#sage green vanity

[charlesmansonatwar]

Master Bath in Boston Inspiration for a large cottage master gray tile and porcelain tile porcelain tile, gray floor and double-sink bathroom remodel with shaker cabinets, green cabinets, a two-piece toilet, white walls, a drop-in sink, quartz countertops, white countertops and a built-in vanity

[spencerscookies]

Boston Master Bath Bathroom

[mariesamuels]

Traditional Powder Room - Bathroom Powder room - mid-sized traditional dark wood floor powder room idea with raised-panel cabinets, white cabinets, a two-piece toilet, green walls, an undermount sink, granite countertops and black countertops

[fushiguho]

The Homemaker & Her Husband ☆ Nanami Kento

☆ WORD COUNT – 7.3k ☆ SYNOPSIS – You’ve been a good wife, really. Fulfilling your role as a homemaker and completing your responsibilities of cooking and cleaning for your overworked husband so that he can provide for his beloved missus. But what happens when one evening after preparing a feast for Nanami, he arrives late and now dinner is ruined… will you let him make it up to you? ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS – Nanami x fem!reader, shameless smut, married couple, traditional gender roles, creampie, impregnation, mentions of femininity, reader is a housewife

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*: ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

A sigh of contentment fell from your lips as you placed a warm pan of rolls on the table, completing the feast you’ve prepared for you and your husband. It was the final—and most crucial—piece of the divine spread you’ve spent the last three hours prepping and crafting. You closed your eyes before inhaling once, reveling in the aroma of your hard work. You could nearly drool at the heavenly combination of piquant and saccharine flavors, all beautifully arranged on a frilly, sage green tablecloth. You had it all; smothered pork chops on a bed of fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower with tahini, homemade buttered rolls, and a New York style cheesecake with strawberry sauce dribbling down the sides.

There was no occasion. No rhyme or reason. There doesn’t need to be. Some days you just wanted to wear a smooth, satin slip dress, paired with the most beautiful diamonds and a gracious heart. Some days you just wanted to prepare a fulfilling meal for your husband to come home to after a long, tiring day at work. And some days you wish that just maybe, society would stop frowning upon the women that take pride in their love for their husband.

When did it become a crime to be comfortable in your divine femininity?

What is so god awful about wanting to be a caregiver? What if it’s divine intuition or fate? What if it’s just the way it ought to be? You aren’t sure, not really. All you know was that you enjoy taking care of the people you love, you always have. Maybe it’s the swell of your heart when he thanks you for taking care of the house while he’s away. Or the smile that mars his face when he comes home to a spotless kitchen and a carefully constructed supper as you prance to embrace him in a hug. Or it could even be the way he really thanks you when the night is said and done and he’s splitting you apart with his cock and fingers.

Soft, bossa nova jazz thrummed through the speakers of the radio that sat atop the fridge. You hummed to yourself as you swayed your hips. The window just above the sink sat open, soft linen curtains dancing in a duet with the wind. It was warm and it smelled of healthy grass and memories to be had. And oh how you missed him dearly, you could die.

You smiled to yourself as you dusted your hands on the front of your plaid apron before swiping your pager off the counter. With quick, nimble fingers, you began to message your husband, letting him know that the door is unlocked and you’ll be waiting for him at the table. He always knows when you’re making a special dinner for him because it’s he who does the grocery shopping, so it isn't ever truly a surprise. Nanami hates surprises anyway.

You undid the bow at the back of your apron before peeling it off and hanging it on its designated hook. With two hands, you smoothed the satin of your cream colored dress, the one that Nanami swore hugged your hips a little too tightly. You washed your hands before skipping upstairs with a girlish smile, the soft hum of bossa nova ebbing as you neared your shared bedroom.

Diligently, you touched up your frazzled hair and makeup. With swaying feet, you smiled in the mirror of your vanity, patting your cheeks with blush just the way he likes. Nanami loves when you doll yourself up for him. He loves the sweet, gourmand perfume you’d put directly behind your ears, the one he swears smells like raspberries and vanilla. He also loves the pretty, sheer lipgloss that adorned your lips, accentuating the dip of your cupid's bow. And oh how he loves when you’d saunter toward him in that bewitched dress with a soft smile playing your glossed lips.

You could hardly wait as you rushed back downstairs, plopping yourself into a chair at the dining table. Impatiently, you waited. With your elbows on the table and your chin resting in the palms of your hands, you eyed the food before you. You flitted your eyes between the front door and the hardwick clock on the counter. Any second now, you thought.

You could no longer hear the thrum of music, far too engrossed in the passage of time. The clock’s golden pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And as time does, it went on. The pendulum continued to swing and time continued to pass and soon, seconds would turn into minutes and minutes into hours.

He’s late.

Now, you sat on the couch, your right knee bouncing restlessly as your arms sat crossed over your chest. You were upset, maybe even beyond it. Disappointed maybe. An irritated sigh fell from your lips. Slowly, you dragged your bare toes along the shag rug on the floor. It’s late and you’ve already paged Nanami four times in the last hour to no avail.

With a huff, you pushed yourself up from the couch before making your way to the kitchen. You began to clear the table of the room temperature food, angrily packing everything away into tupperwares. The sound of the front door opening then closing startled you, pausing your angered movements. The floorboards creaked with the familiar clomp of his leather penny loafers as he neared the kitchen.

“My love, I’m home. I’m so sorry I’m late.” He apologized as he emerged in the arched doorway of the kitchen while simultaneously slipping his suit jacket off his arms and hanging it from the coat rack.

You said nothing as you continued to clean the table, your shoulder cold as you ignored his presence.

Nanami sighed, “You cooked all this for me, baby?” His heart ached in his chest.

“What does it matter? It’s cold anyway.” You cut, your voice sharp and daggered.

Nanami nodded deservedly. Immediately, he sees your anger, acknowledges it, accepts it. He could almost feel the warmth of your seething rage. Warily, he stepped closer to you, his arms open in embrace, but you turned away, shuffling to the opposite end of the table to collect the remaining food.

“Baby,” He frowned, “forgive me. I stayed out late tonight to tie up some loose ends. Satoru called out and I lost track of time.” He explained.

Still, you scoffed.

“But I’m here now and this food looks delicious.” He commended, “Did you eat?”

“I paged you five fucking times. You could’ve called.” You huffed, ignoring his concern.

He dropped his head in shame. He truly was sorry and you knew it. Nanami is sincere. He’s genuine and unfeigned and candid, but he tends to throw himself at his work, muddling the line between it and home. You really can’t fault him for taking pride in what he does, but God, do you wish he’d find a healthy balance between the two.

“Baby, what can I do, hm?” He hummed, “To make it up to you?”

He followed you around the kitchen, his heavy footfalls not far behind. You could feel his warmth as he stood beside you and you could smell what’s left of the cologne he spritzed on his suit this morning. It was then that you finally looked up at him, silently registering his post-work mien. His tapered, blonde hair danced in every which way, loose strands adorning his forehead. His brows furrowed with remorse while his tired eyes pleaded for absolution, begging for your forgiveness like a sinner in church.

Slowly, he sank to his knees before you, his intense gaze never never faltering. You rolled your eyes in disbelief as you turned away. Nanami reached for your hand, pulling you back to him. Before you had the chance to pull away, Nanami dipped his head to plant a chaste kiss to the back of your hand before turning it over and kissing your palm. He continued, leaving several kisses along the expanse of your hand and wrist.

“Look baby, I’m on my knees for you.” He admitted. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do anything… you know I will.”

Nanami was releasing your hand to kiss your legs instead. He trailed sweet, fleeting kisses up and down your shins before gently bunching up the hem of your dress to expose your thighs. He kissed there too, humming and inhaling your scent as he wrapped his arms around the back of your knees, pulling you closer.

His heart ached with contrition as he begged for your pardon, so distraught by his foolishness. Frankly, Nanami yearned not only for you, but your approval as well. It was something he’d go to great lengths to obtain. What is he worthy of if not your mercy? Your validation?

“What is it you want?” He mumbled between kisses, determined to rectify his wrongdoing and put a smile on his pretty girl’s face.

You could feel the slam of your heart against your chest as you looked down at him, his pleading eyes beckoning you to relinquish your anger and find reprieve in him instead. He whispered sweet nothings against your skin—small I love yous and honeyed words of praise. And surely, all the resolve you once had was long gone, swept up and blown out the window, never to be seen again.

The poor lace of your white panties cried in your arousal as your stomach flipped with excitement. The subtle clench of your thighs wouldn’t go unnoticed. You could feel the curl of an all-knowing grin against your skin. “I know you want something.” He whispered. It’s quiet, barely audible, but God, did you hear him.

You bit your inner cheek, contemplative in silence. If you know Nanami at all, you know he never allows you to go to bed angry. It’s one thing he won’t tolerate. He’s made it his personal mission to send you to bed with a smile on that pretty face of yours every night.

“Want me to take care of you tonight?” He breathed, his eyes searching for yours, “Show you how grateful I am for all that you do? Show you just how much I need you… how much you mean to me? Will you let me show you, my love?”

You can't stay mad at him nor could you deny yourself pleasure. How could you? He’s on his knees for you, begging at your feet for forgiveness like an atheist on judgment day. He loves you dearly and he won’t rest until he rights his wrongs. So you really can’t help it when you slowly nod to him, accepting his enticing offer.

A breathy laugh of relief fell from his lips, “Yeah? You’ll let me show you?” He grinned.

You nodded again, reaching out a hand for him. The gracious smile that marred his lips was peerless, almost as if his sole purpose in life is to demonstrate his love and appreciation for you. He eventually rose to his feet, towering above you before taking your hand and silently leading you to the living room. You followed closely as you desperately fought the grin trying to kiss your lips.

Nanami situated himself on the couch, his legs spreading naturally. The striped fabric of his trousers warped with the slow adjustment of his hips, the subtle bulge of his cock resting so prettily in his lap. He looked up at you as he sat quietly, the heat of his stare turning you into a puddle of nothingness before him. How could someone say so much, yet nothing at all? You understand him completely—his intentions, his determination, his carnal desire.

He jerked his head lightly, motioning you to him or rather on him.

Like a moth to flame, you were immensely drawn to him, deeply, uncontrollably. You hardly noticed the shuffle of your feet as you neared him before leaning down to fixate yourself on his lap. A shared breath of relief fell from your lips as they hovered mere centimeters apart. You couldn't hide the small grin that crept on your face. Nanami returned the smile, his much larger and dopey, but his eyes saddened.

“You even got all dolled up for me.” He commented, taking notice of your glossed lips and rosy cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby.” He frowned like before, as if he’s still haunted by his guilty conscience.

You shrugged, “It’s okay.” It comes out as a small whisper. You’re not even sure if you believe yourself. Nanami certainly doesn't, which is why he shook his head in disagreement.

“It’s not. I should have called,” He admitted as his hand reached for your face, cupping your warm cheek in his palm. You leaned into his touch, nodding slowly, wordlessly agreeing. “But m’gonna make it up to you.” He promised.

He was then leaning closer to push his lips onto yours, finally closing the aching distance. You kissed him back promptly, sighing against his mouth as you relaxed into his touch. He wasn’t modest as he kissed you hungrily, your nose pushing against his while you breathed into his mouth. Nanami hummed in satisfaction as he sloppily tasted your mouth. Your lips were so sweet and delicious, so perfectly shaped and carefully glossed.

Soon, you could feel the graze of his tongue along your bottom lip, silently begging for more to which you obliged, granting him access to your willing mouth. You allowed him to taste you from the inside, desperate to feel his tongue exploring your wet mouth. Even the subtle exchange of saliva had your hips stuttering as you sat on his lap.

Nanami’s hands were gripping the fat of your hips, his long fingers splayed along the flesh. The hem of your dress slowly bunched at your waist, exposing the pretty lace of your sheer panties. You couldn’t help the gape of your lips when you gasped at his cock pressing firmly against your clothed cunt. He pushed your hips against him, rocking you back and forth along his growing erection. The friction made you completely dizzy.

You couldn’t help the whiny moans that tumbled past your lips and into his mouth, your sweet voice going straight to his cock as he swallowed your saccharine whimpers. A cry left your lips at the feeling of him bucking his hips forward, further pushing himself against the lace of your underwear. And God, how you were so wet and bothered. Nanami fucking loved when you’d get like this. He swore he could feel your wetness seeping through the fabric of his trousers.

“Always been so sensitive.” He hummed.

His comment had your cheeks burning with crimson. It never took long for you to fall apart like this. He’s hardly touched you and you could already feel yourself unraveling like cheap thread. You crave him like you crave water and oxygen, as if you’d simply die from the sheer lack of him and he could tell. He could always tell.

“M’so grateful for you y’know.” He smiled drunkenly, reminding you of his gratitude, “So pretty ‘n sweet… always takin’ such good care of me.” He continued, dropping his head to kiss your neck softly.

You hummed in agreement, craning your head to the side, granting him more access to the receptive flesh. Nanami’s hands began to slide up your torso and beneath your dress. His warm grip was tight and familiar. He pulled you impossibly close, your chest pressed against his and now your dress was bunched up just below the curve of your breasts.

Nanami brought his gaze up to meet yours, silently begging to take off your dress to which you nodded. You held your arms up for him, allowing him to gather the cream fabric in his hands before pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. He smiled. Nanami loved when you’d opt for not wearing a bra, in fact, he encouraged it and wouldn't have it any other way. He loved that he could make out the shape of your breasts at any given moment. He even loved the prod of your nipples against the fabric of your blouses.

He wasted no time as he was bowing his head to slip one of your nipples into his mouth while his hands worked to push the fat of your breasts together. A trail of hot, openmouthed kisses littered your chest. He hummed in bliss as he tasted your skin. He was nothing but insatiable as he swapped back and forth between your tits, ran his tongue through the valley of your chest, and slipped both of your sweet nipples into his mouth.

Fuck, you could cum right here, just like this, and he knew it of course. The warm press of his cock against your poor pussy while his hot mouth drooled on your tits was pure torture. You were practically putty in his hands—beautiful and completely ruined by him and for him only. You lolled your head back as you bucked your hips, wanton moans falling from your parted lips.

“Grateful for this pretty little body.” He whispered as he felt you up greedily, squeezing and caressing just about any part of you he could reach.

“Na…namin,” You cried.

“I know, baby. I know.” He shushed, “I know you want more. Just wanna appreciate you is all.”

Nanami eventually willed himself away, but only to lift you off of him and set you down on the couch so that he could kneel on the rug in front of you. You sat upright with your back to the backrest of the couch, knees to your chest as they pressed together tightly. With one hand, Nanami was spreading your legs apart before tugging you closer to the edge of the cushion by your ankles.

You couldn’t bear the sight of him between your legs as he began to kiss you through the damp fabric of your panties, darting his tongue out to taste you just a little bit. It was awfully too much. You could hardly breathe as he beckoned for you to raise your hips so that he could pull your soiled panties down your legs, tossing them aside.

“Grateful for this sweet little pussy.” He breathed as he licked a long, ponderous strip, collecting your seeping arousal on the tip of his tongue.

You shuddered as he began to mouth your cunt. He kissed and drooled all over it, moaning and panting against it as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert. As if he were a predator and you his prey. As if he’d simply die if didn’t devour you right here and now, whole, saving absolutely nothing for anybody.

As he sat on his knees between your legs, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping you spread nice and wide for him. You could hardly move, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted the entirety of your pussy on display for him. He needed you to be open and accessible and all for him.

He was still dressed in his business attire as he fucked you with his tongue. The first couple buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone and his spotted tie hung low from his neck. He even wore his loafers and his harness but none of that mattered to him. Maybe he liked the idea of you being completely bare and vulnerable and his only purpose is to be a vessel for your pleasure. Or it could just be the juxtaposition of it all.

“Fuuuck…” You drawled, “feels s’good.”

The swell of his cock was unbearable and you did nothing but push him further. Nanami wouldn't miss the subtle roll of your hips against his face, or the saccharine whimpers that tumbled from your mouth. He sure as hell wouldn’t miss the way you begged him to stuff you with his fingers. God, he could cream his fucking trousers.

He groaned as he slowly sunk his two middle fingers inside of you, “Oh, God, look at that.”

With hooded eyes and a lazy smirk, he watched as your greedy pussy sucked him in, kissing and coating his fingers in your essence. He couldn’t help but to shove those very fingers into his mouth, tasting you from the inside, only to return his fingers back to your pussy without missing a beat. He then dropped his head to wrap his lips around your clit. You whined as his fingers prodded your leaking hole while his tongue beckoned you to an inevitable release.

The obscene squelch of his fingers as he stuffed your drooling hole was sickening. You could only drape an arm over your eyes, shielding your face in embarrassment as he began to curl his fingers forward, pressing against your fluttering walls. With an open mouth you panted, and gasped, and moaned, and babbled, pleading for anything and everything.

And you’re just the sweetest thing ever to him. So pretty and delicious, he thought. Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He lapped up everything you gave him, tonguing and sucking and slurping you up like a man starved. His groans and hums of pleasure as he ran his tongue through you were nothing but kindle to the ever-growing flame in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly to pull you firmly onto his mouth. He let his jaw fall slack while lolling out his tongue, fully mouthing your cunt. Quite literally he stuffed his face with you, devouring you utterly and completely. He was obnoxious as he groaned and panted, deeply huffing and inhaling as if he were on the brink of death and you were his final breath, nursing him back to life.

How could someone be so pussywhipped? So drunk? So blinded by their own unceasing need to please? So much so that he doesn't even think twice when you cry for him to go lower, begging him to taste and appreciate you everywhere. He silently obliged, sharing a breath with you as he gathered your seeping arousal on the tips of his fingers so that he could drag them between the slit of your ass.

With both hands, he spread you further apart, warm palms on the fat of your ass, and his balls painfully swollen at the lewd sight of your holes throbbing and pulsing around nothing. Nanami gathered saliva in his mouth before puckering his lips and lolling out his tongue, messily drooling onto your pussy and asshole. He watched with a half-lidded stare as his saliva landed with a plap, slowly dripping from your cunt, to the space inbetween, until finally spilling onto your puckered hole.

Nanami dipped his head, quickly darting out his tongue to chase his spit so that he could push it into your ass. You gasped as his tongue probed and licked and tasted you. Fuck, you could cum just like that. You felt it—that deep, gnawing urge to release yourself with a buck of your hips and cry of his sweet name. God, you could fucking feel it.

“Yeeeah—my baby needs me everywhere, hmm?” He slurred drunkenly between drags of his tongue, “Needs me to appreciate her everywhere… even her pretty little asshole.”

You nodded dumbly with your pupils dilated and glazed over, your wet lips parted, and your eyebrows knitted. You could hardly recall how you ended up here… thighs pressed to your chest with your husband’s tongue and fingers delving in and out of your sloppy holes like some insatiable whore.

Is that what you are? Some insatiable whore whose only purpose in life is to be a slutty little housewife? It must be true though, right? It’s you who's getting your pussy and asshole slobbered on. You who’s feeling yourself up as you get devoured, groping and squeezing your breasts like a pornstar. And you who’s nodding off and choking over your words, begging to cum like your life depends on it. But maybe you end up like this in every life. Is it fate? Destiny? Is it just how it ought to be? Does it even matter?

You weren’t sure or maybe you just didn't care. How could you? Not with the way his thumb was slowly sinking into your asshole while his tongue licked through your sweet folds. Not with the way he was beginning to press his other thumb to your clit, beckoning you to cum in his mouth like the good girl he knows you are. And definitely not with the way your stomach was starting to tighten and coil with that all too familiar feeling.

“Nami!” You choked, your chest heaving as you panted and bucked.

You couldn’t fight your frown as he pulled away to smile up at you, the corners of his lips tugging into an all-knowing grin and his pussy drunk eyes boring holes into yours. You dripped down his face—the tip of his nose, his swollen lips and chin glistening in your arousal and his own saliva. It was debauched and lewd and entirely shameless but none of that mattered. It never mattered when he had you like this—so vulnerable, so helpless, so willing and meek. Maybe that’s the exact reason he craves you when he's away. Because he loses all sense of himself when he’s between your thighs. So lost in the objective of pleasuring you, in his need to satisfy.

“Want you to cum on my tongue so I can fuck all of my appreciation into you.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning your cunt, “You want that?”

You nodded hastily, humming and gasping in approval as you pushed your hips forward, chasing his hovering lips. Of course you want that and he knows it. He knows you’re unraveling at the seams, holding onto the fleeting semblance of sanity you grasp as you spiral toward an inevitable orgasm. He just knows it’ll tear you apart, sending you so far gone that he’s sure it’ll have tears threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks. If Nanami knows anything at all, he knows you—in and out like the back of his hand. He knows what your body needs, how much you can take, how deep he can go, and even how hard you’ll cum for him.

And it’s not just you. He too feels himself on the brink of orgasm, his poor cock threatening to spill into his Calvin Klein briefs, but not yet, not now. It was torture, his swollen balls pressed to the fat of his thigh and his heavy cock weeping precum all while being compressed by the restricting fabric of his trousers. God, it was absolute torture, but he would wait forever if it meant having his tongue and fingers inside of you.

“Nami, m’cumming… oh, God.” You cried.

It happened all too fast. Your poor brain couldn't register the orgasm that worked through your entire being. The feeling of your abdomen tightening and the flutter of your soft walls as his tongue helped you through it rendered you breathless. Your mind fell blank as he guided you through your orgasm, cooing words of praise and gratitude, leaving you a whimpering, stuttering mess.

Nanami moaned and panted as he drank you up, swallowing and enjoying everything you gave him. It’s almost animalistic the way he nearly unhinges his jaw to taste more of you if it were even possible. He’s a primal animal in his habitat, devouring his prey like it’s the last meal he’d ever have. It’s almost too good that it pains you, it’s too much.

You can’t stop your legs from closing around his head. “I can’t, baby...” You whine as you push him away with a little more force than intended.

Nanami drunkenly stumbles backwards onto the floor with a thud, his hands falling back to catch him and still, he smiles lazily. Well, it’s more of a crooked smirk. His usual ironed dress shirt now wore wrinkles and his normally manicured hair danced in a frenzy along his nape and forehead, blonde strands falling down to frame his face. He sat with his knees bent and his hands resting behind him to stabilize himself. His cheeks burned with crimson and his chest heaved.

“You really are so beautiful, my love,” He admired, “and I’m so grateful for you, your love, your compassion, your emotional complexity. I really am.” He breathed.

He’s babbling and you smile, heart swelling at his sentiment and vulnerability. His love is evident. It’s in your face, it’s overbearing, it’s real. “I love you more than you know.” You smile sweetly, holding your arms out for him to come to you.

Nanami pushed himself up from the floor to fall into your arms. “I love you with all that I am.” He admitted in a whisper, baring his soul.

His lips catch yours, pulling you into a tender kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “I want to make love to you.” He breathed. You nod to him, sealing your answering with another sloppy kiss. You hardly notice Nanami gently pulling you off the couch to carry you upstairs, nearly tripping as he attempts to slip his loafers off in the process.

Blindly, he stumbled through the doorway of your shared bedroom. He laid you on the perfectly done up bed and cursed to himself at the salacious side of you—your bare body on display for him, swollen cunt exposed between your legs, silently begging for more, your fucked-out face and tousled hair. Nanami fought the urge to cum as he undressed himself before you, finally ridding himself of his clothes.

As you waited, you couldn’t help the hand that snaked between your legs so that you could touch yourself. Your other hand found its way to your mouth, your fingers pushed past your lips and you sucked sweetly as you watched Nanami unfasten the buttons of his dress shirt.

As he undid the clasp of his brown leather belt, he shook his head and laughed to himself. It’s more of a breathy chuckle as he grins in disbelief. “You just might be the death of me.” He jested as he pushed his briefs down his thighs, baring his swollen cock. It jumped free, bouncing to kiss his navel.

Your stomach swirled in excitement as he neared the bed, kneeling onto the edge of the mattress. You crawled toward him, reaching for his cock so that you could pump him in your hand. It’s warm, heavy, desperate. It hurts. Nanami hissed at the contact, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut. He couldn’t hide the throaty moans that tumbled past his lips nor did he want to. He needs you to know exactly how he feels.

“Can… can you spit on it? Fuuuck,” He gasped, his stomach caving as you immediately gathered saliva in your mouth, lolling out your tongue so that you could drool onto the swollen head of his cock. “God, I love you.” He gaped as a hand came up to cup your cheek.

You smiled up at him, your cheeks glowing as you stroked him sweetly. “I need you to fuck me, Nami.” You whispered. It’s quiet, benign, and sincere and you meant it so deeply.

Nanami nodded, watching like a hawk as you laid back for him, spreading your legs and showing him exactly how you wanted him. It didn’t take long for him to situate himself between your thighs, tucking your legs on either side of his hips. With his cock in his palm, he dragged the leaking tip along the expanse of your cunt, spreading and collecting your arousal. You writhed beneath him as you rolled your hips, searching for the relief you so desperately craved.

You shook your head, “Unh unh, just fuck me.” You blurted impatiently.

He smiled down at you, cocking his head to the right just a bit, laughing lightly before nodding in accordance. You braced yourself as he began to push the head of his cock inside of you with his thumb. The two of you sharing a gasp, your mouths agape as you both watched him slowly sink inside of you. Already, it was too much, and you weren’t even fully stuffed.

The moans that fell from your lips were nothing but needy, sultry whines and little gasps of air. Nanami groaned in response to your pretty little sounds, his voice low and guttural. There was nothing he loved more than your sweet voice, especially when you’d get all needy and whiny like this. He almost couldn’t help himself as he pushed his cock further inside of you, his hands reaching for the curve of your waist to pull you onto him, tucking himself as deep as he possibly could.

“Nanamin…” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting as your lips parted.

“I know,” He cooed, “but you can take it, yeah? You always do.”

He smiled sweetly as he drew his hips back, reveling in the way your arousal kissed him in a sheen layer. He held his breath as he pushed his hips forward like before, stuffing you to the brim. He gauged your expression, watching as your face contorted in pleasure, searching for your silent needs so that he can fuck you just how you like.

Slowly, he subconsciously nodded to himself as he pulled out of you. He nodded as if this was the answer to everything he’s ever questioned in life. “Yes, baby… fuck.” He stifled as he lolled his head back, “My sweet girl, always takin’ me so well.”

You are his sweet girl. His sweet girl that likes to get her pussy licked and fucked. His sweet girl that begs for all of her slutty holes to be stuffed and fingered. His sweet girl who pretends to be upset so that he’ll have to fuck her to put a smile on her face. And his sweet girl who is never satisfied, no matter how many times she cums.

“More.” You whispered.

He let you reach for his face and pull him close. You panted as you slotted lips against his, hooking your feet together behind him, encouraging him to fuck you like he’s meant to. You kissed him sloppily, your tongue lapping and sliding against his, licking and tasting him from the inside, remnants of your cum still lingering on his tongue.

Nanami pulled away, a gossamer of saliva connecting his bottom lip to yours, that same idle smirk playing his wet lips. “God, you need it don’t you?” He exhaled in a single breath, his eyes searching for yours in the dimly lit room.

You nodded eagerly, lifting your head to chase his fleeting lips. He kissed you back like before except this time, he was unhooking your legs to grip the back of your thighs, pinning them to the duvet and spreading you completely open for him. You want to get fucked? He’ll do just that. You deserve it after all.

The warm stretch of his cock as he split you open made your head spin. You sucked him in greedily, your wet walls kissing him so sweetly. He filled you so well, almost too perfectly, like he was hand tailored for you and you only. You could hardly breathe as he leaned forward, angling his hips slightly downward to lick at your neck. You whined as he licked a long, ponderous strip from your collar bone, to the shell of your ear, sealing it with a kiss, his thrusts still heavy and sharp, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix.

Each time his hips collided with yours, the sound of skin against skin was all that could be heard along with your choked whimpers and huffs of his breath against your neck, his thrusts heavy and deep. Nanami was losing himself as he fucked you, heavy balls slapping the thick of your ass, fat cock bullying its way deeper and deeper inside of you. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cum inside of you, tainting you with his seed, claiming you all for himself for eternity.

“My sweet girl needed me to fuck her like this, huh?” He cooed, his hand sliding up your stomach to grip your cheeks gingerly, forcing your lips into a pout. “Needed me to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness like some kind of slut,” He kissed you sweetly, “I love it… makes me so hard… it hurts, baby. But I love it so much.” He babbled, kissing you sloppily between breaths.

It was a mess, all of it. Your cunt glistened in a sinful mixture of arousal while Nanami kissed you messily with his tongue lolled out, even the subtle exchange of saliva had you so aroused that you could cry, only adding to the wet mess the two of you created. You curled your toes as your eyes welled with tears, his thumb pressing against your clit, lips slotted against yours. It was all too much, your poor head was so empty and sore.

“I love when you turn me into this,” He confessed, his infatuation for you so ardently evident, “even think about you at work too y’know… get me so fuckin’ worked up… m’always so hard when I think about you. You make me crazy, I swear.” He inhaled a tight breath as he fought the gnawing urge to cum.

You gasped as he slipped out of you to lay down on the bed, pulling you with him. He put you on your side and tucked himself behind you, gripping the back of your thigh and hiking your leg to slip his cock back inside of you with a groan. Desperately, he fucked himself into you from the behind, his warm breaths lost in your neck, cock slipping in and out of you, wet balls kissing your ass with an obscene schlop.

“Think about you too, Nami.” You whispered, turning your head to meet his face, “M-missed you so much—fuck…”

Nanami grinned lazily, his nose brushing yours, “Yeah? You missed me baby? Do you touch yourself when I’m away? Thinkin’ ‘bout me fucking you just like this while you play with that pretty pussy?” His voice honeyed and sweet, thick with genuine curiosity and lust.

You hummed in agreement, huffing out short breaths in sync with the thrust of his hips. You could feel yourself slipping into a place of no return, a place so far gone, so depraved, that you were afraid you’d lose yourself and cream all over him, ruining the freshly washed sheets. Your walls squeezed the length of his cock, begging him to spill inside of you and Nanami was feral as he fucked you stupid, cresent-shaped nails digging into your thighs, his breath hitching with each inhale.

“Want your c-cum,” You slurred, your pretty face contouring in your own need to release, “want you to cum inside of me… show me how much you really love ‘n appreciate me with your babies. Need your babies, Nami… please?”

His cock twitched, “F-fuck, is that what you need? Will that make you happy, sweetheart?”

You mouthed a silent plea, nodding to him with parted lips. He gripped your face softly, bringing you close to taste your swollen lips for the umpteenth time tonight. There was nothing you needed more. Absolutely nothing on earth would satisfy you more than taking all of his cum like a good girl should. You dreamt of getting knocked up by Nanami, your stomach so cute and round as you waddled around the house with a gracious smile.

“Say it, baby, please, will you?” He begged softly, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppier, “Say you want me to breed you and make you a mommy… please, baby, fuck.” He gasped as his impending orgasm coiled in his abdomen, threatening to tear him apart.

“Need you to make me a mommy, Nanami… been such a good girl for you. I deserve it, please.” You brainlessly babbled.

​​“Fuck, fuck, fuck—okay, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, “Gonna give my good girl all of my cum, such a pretty fuckin’ girl… deserves all my cum—oh my God.”

He whined shamelessly, his erratic breaths soon turned into broken ones, each of them interrupted with a whimper or hiss. His chest heaved as his lower stomach began to tighten, his wet cock throbbing inside of you, the head weeping against your cervix. Eventually, that winding coil in the pit of his stomach snapped, releasing itself in several spurts of thick, milky cum, coating your walls in his viscous seed. Still, he bucked his hips into you, his cock accidently slipping out a few times and pushing against you clit from the force of his thrusts only for your greedy hand to reach down to tuck him back inside, allowing him to fuck his cum as deep as he could, none of it going to waste.

“You gonna cum for me, hm? Make a mess after you’ve just cleaned the house?” He cooed, reaching a hand down your body to play with your clit, tracing small, tight circles around the sensitive bud, encouraging your looming orgasm.

You squeaked a small yes in response, eyes falling shut as you felt your orgasm swelling. His voice only pushed you further, his encouraging words and sweet nothings coaxing you. He was sending you so far, stringing you along so thin, beckoning you to cum all over him and make a mess. His cum seeped from your pussy, dribbling onto the satin sheets in a sinful puddle beneath you and you could only whine as your soft walls fluttered around him.

He pressed his lips to your shoulder, kissing you sweetly, “Cum for me, my pretty baby, c’mon.” He encouraged, “Cum for me like I know you need to—yessss, baby, yes cum just like that… all over my cock, fuck.”

After ensuring you were thouroughly fucked through your orgasm, his thrusts slowed and eventually, his hips stilled completely. He slipped out of you, nearly cumming again as he watched your pulsing cunt push out his seed, his cock too dripping in a sweet layer of cum and arousal. He almost couldn’t help the hand that slipped between your legs, fingers finding your pussy to gather his cum on the tips, pummeling it deeper inside of you.

It was too much, too sensitive. You shook your head as you whined in overwhelming pleasure, pushing your thighs together and forcing his hand away. Nanami hushed you with a kiss, explaining that he would prefer his cum not to go to waste. He just wanted to make sure his seed was planted, make sure that you’d get pregnant and there was no doubt you’d end up plump and full with his baby. He turned you to face him, shuffling close so his nose could touch yours.

“You’d make the most beautiful mother.” He smiled gently, peeling the disheveled hair off of your face, baring your blushed cheeks and sweat-ridden forehead.

His heart swelled when you beamed in return, your eyes fluttering sheepishly as sleep loomed. Nanami thought you looked prettiest like this, so raw and exposed in your post-orgasmic state. He could see right through you like a glass house in broad daylight. There was almost an internal glow within you, a radiating brightness that consumed everything in its wake and he adored that about you. Possibly the reason he fell so hard all those years ago.

“You really are so beautiful to me.” He breathed as if coming to the realization all over again, “I love you and it hurts my heart when I disappoint you.” He frowned.

You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Nami. Just don’t let it happen again, hm?” You partly joked as you squinted, shooting him playful daggers.

He kissed your nose too, “It won’t happen again.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*: ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

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[ambrozjas]

the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader (separate)

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.

darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.

“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.

darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.

“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.

“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.

“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”

“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.

“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.

“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.

one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.

“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”

soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.

“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“

“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.

you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.

“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.

“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.

you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.

“oh, no.”

“oh, yes.”

“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”

and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.

you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.

he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.

when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.

once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.

“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.

dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”

“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.

“tastes sweet.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”

“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.

“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.

“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.

“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.

“you do it too.”

“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.

“whatever you say, doll.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.

“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.

“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.

“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.

“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”

as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.

he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.

“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.

“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”

“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.

when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.

you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.

“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[eudaimaniacs]

strawberries - part ii (logan howlett x female reader) | part i

character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)

word count: 1.4k words

warning/s: smut, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, and one mention of somnophilia

notes: i am feeling a bit better now and finished writing the sequel for my last post. i can't wait to write more since my semestral break is coming (might need some requests for inspiration). enjoy reading!

The smell of fresh and fruity strawberry jam infused the cozy cottage air. You watch Holly as she is tempted to taste it by asking you if she can.

“No, honey. The jam is still hot, and we need to cool it down,” you instructed the eager young girl sitting on the countertop.

It was dinnertime, and you decided to prepare both breakfast and supper. You called Holly to help you prepare the tools and jars needed for the jam. The process took longer as you cared for an energetic and hungry three-year-old. Holly snuck a few strawberries to eat, and you told her that if she had more, there would be less strawberry jam to enjoy. The young girl cried out to her dad, almost taking her away from the kitchen. Logan thankfully calmed Holly down, and she was back to being excited about eating it for breakfast.

“It’s time to prepare for dinner, Holly. Tell your dad it’s time to eat,” you carried your daughter and let her run off to Logan. Holly giggled as she excitedly sprinted to show your husband the fresh strawberry jam and the food the two of you made. You grinned as you prepared the plates and utensils and set them on the wooden table. You went back to the kitchen to get the steak, potatoes, mixed vegetables, and chicken nuggets for Holly.

As you put on the last meal, the middle of the table was decorated with the most beautiful bouquet. Blooming blush peonies and white daisies complimented the sage green table runner you recently bought weeks ago. Holly held a pink peony as she struggled to sit on the chair to eat.

“Bought a last-minute gift for this beautiful dinner, [Y/N],” Logan gushed as he kissed your forehead and sat down. You prayed a short grace before eating, and the three of you began to consume supper. Holly started the usual dinnertime conversations with her tales of imaginary friends, the strawberry jam you made with her, and the jokes she and Logan would make.

As your daughter told the latest fairytale she read, you focused on eating the steak and tried not to touch Logan for the upcoming event tonight. He could smell your arousal even with the delicious food on the table. You were excited to spend the night with Logan, making a new child and sibling for Holly to play with.

While you ate the last steak on your plate, your daughter innocently asks, “Mommy, Daddy, can I get a little sister or brother?”

You and Logan dropped both of your utensils as Holly caught the attention of the two of you. You struggled to answer the question as you glanced at Logan, who was flustered. She had never asked or even hinted that she wanted a sibling in this household. You and Logan wanted another child but agreed to wait some years before having a second child. You went to the nearest neighborhood for Holly to play with children her age, but you sensed that she could get lonely when she’s stuck at home.

“Sure, you can, bub,” Logan replied as he ruffs the soft hair of the young girl. Holly giggled and thanked him before finishing the leftover food on her plate. You chuckle as you see Logan smirk, knowing you two will fulfill the first child’s wish.

You turn on the ballerina music box as you lull Holly, tired from the day of excitement. She groggily remarks how she’s looking forward to tasting the strawberry jam tomorrow morning. You pat her head as you watch her slowly close her eyes and dream until the sun breaks out. You kiss her forehead and head out to go to the bedroom.

“Is she asleep?”

You sit at the vanity chair to brush your hair and see Logan wearing his tank top. Your eyes wander to the tight denim jeans and unbuckled belt. Oh, he was waiting.

You sigh and softly stare at Logan, “Seems like she’s going to have a great dream tonight.”

The dim, yellowish lamp decorating the bedroom made you ethereal and radiant in this intimate setting. Logan intensely stared as he sat on the bed, waiting for you to stop brushing your hair. You hum as you remove your nightrobe little by little. Your heart was pumping faster as you and Logan would make another child. You hear Logan shuffling out of bed and standing next to you.

“Getting impatient here, princess,” Logan’s guttural voice made you shiver. He tucked your hair and imprinted your neck. You moan at the sensation of his tongue marking you. You grab his arm as Logan continues to kiss and bite your neck.

Out of breath, Logan growled, “Let’s go to bed, [Y/N].” He seized your hand and gently pushed you on the mattress. You slowly took off his tank top, exposing his magnificent build and chest hair that will always make you weak. You spread your legs as Logan held himself from tearing off your nightgown. Your lustful and sleepy eyes tell him that you want him, you need him.

Logan clutched the hem of your nightgown and slowly took it off. You sigh as you feel the cold air crashing over your exposed body. The man on top growled as he saw your soft breasts and the transparent, lacy cream panties covering your arousal. You wrap your legs around Logan as your desires of getting fucked and bred by him rise more.

“Too eager, princess?” Logan whispered as he squeezed and massaged your boobs and perked your nipples.

“Oh, yes, fuck. Please give me another child, Lo. Want another kid,” you moaned as you grind yourself on his jeans. Logan chuckled at your impatience and granted both of your wishes. He unzips his pants, takes off his underwear, and slowly enters inside of you. You whine at Logan’s massive size and immediately embrace his broad back. You scratch his back at the intense pleasure. Logan’s drive to breed you until the sun peeks out of the curtains made it more exciting.

He didn’t give the usual rough and fast sex, wanting to be more passionate as he gave you another child. The sight of you carrying his child made him hard, and your commitment to your family made Logan weak and soft. The two of you silently moaned, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful, sleeping daughter. You tapped Logan’s hand, signaling that you were close.

“Want me to fill you up, princess?” Logan huskily said as he quickened his pace.

At a loss for words, you try to reply and state how much you want to be filled with his warm cum and have Logan’s child again. He chuckled as he heard your weak whispers and whines, trying to articulate the upcoming orgasm. Logan positioned your legs over his shoulders, making sure that his seed went inside of you.

“Here it comes, [Y/N]!” Logan growled as he released his warm cum to your tight walls. You moaned at the feeling of his sticky substance coating your pussy. Logan immediately lay beside your shaking, out-of-breath body. You snuggle against his chest as he kisses your head and massages your back.

“Thought we were going to fuck until morning, Lo,” you sleepily remark. You were tired; however, you expected Logan to ensure you were bred. Your lustful and exhausted eyes look at Logan’s soft ones to hear his explanation.

Logan passionately kisses you, your sweet, honey-like taste coating his tastebuds. You yawn as you nestled in his chest, hearing the soft thumping of his heart.

“I wish we could, [Y/N], but we promised to eat strawberry jam with Holly tomorrow morning,” Logan whispered. You giggle at the remembrance that the two of you have to wake up early and eat breakfast with your daughter. You were excited to have another child finally and for Holly to have a sibling to play with.

“You need to sleep, princess. If I get hard again, I might fuck my seed again inside of you,” Logan remarked. You slapped his chest as you lightly scolded him and reminded him that you two needed to be awake in the morning. You hum yourself to sleep and feel your lids closing little by little. The last thing you hear is the soft groans of Logan sleeping. The two of you are in a tight and loving embrace, and you are filled with Logan’s love for you and his growing family. All you could dream of was the taste of your homemade strawberry jam and the conception of you and Logan’s second child.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[hollythius]

IT’S A SYMBOL OF OUR FRIENDSHIP! | secret relationship headcannons

featuring | alhaitam, kaveh, tighnari, childe

prompt | as secret lovers, your favorite pastime is buying incognito matching items for you and your partner. but after so many grandiose, lovingly picked items start to alert your friends— well, what do you say?

tldr | i love secret relationship tropes 🫶 especially when it’s by choice and not necessity. reader is gn, i tried to be funny (it didn’t work), help i cant write any of these characters, uhh enjoy!! reblogs help btw! this got way off topic, uhhhh i’m having fun with these hehe

ALHAITAM — matching rings

the great sage was rarely fond of people, and even rarer was when he purposefully went out of his way to do something for another person. thus, after you had gotten over the initial shock of his confession— wham! he had pulled you aside to hand you a box that held matching rings. you almost fainted, the insanity of your precious haitham not understanding the implications of such jewelry threw you for a loop. however, you accepted it as a sort of promise ring, the silver band wrapped with green, vine-like markings. kaveh was the first to notice. “what’s that you’ve got there?” he smirked. his pointer finger directed at alhaitam’s middle finger where the ring rested. “oh, and what’s this? y/n has one too? oh my!” and alhaitam, sweet, red faced alhaitam, simply said, “it’s a gesture of our friendship!” you shook your head, smiling. kaveh laughed. you knew he was starting to suspect you anyway.

KAVEH — matching earrings

having your boyfriend’s roommate intrude on the two of you was rare, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. you were beginning to think it was on purpose— alhaitam was smart, and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize your relationship. (especially with how affectionate kaveh was sometimes) “y/n, help me put them in,” kaveh whines. “hold on, kaveh. here,” you finished putting your own earrings in, before coming over to kaveh. you press a kiss to his temple, which leads to him kissing your wrist— soon the earrings are left forgotten on the vanity and your collective priority is to kiss each other to death. these ministrations hold your attention so tightly that you don’t hear the knock at the door. or the ‘i’m coming in’ from alhaitham. well, he was bound to find out one way or another.

TIGHNARI — matching bracelets

tighnari’s tongue stuck out a little when he was focused— a cute habit of his that you had yet to comment on. now, he was focused on latching a clasp on a bracelet he had bought you. on his wrist was a matching one: gold and green with incredible luster. he was struggling. “need help, nari?” you ask, giggling. “no. m’fine.” he was certainly not fine, with how long it was taking him. “you’re so cute,” you say softly, tighnari looking up at you annoyed. “and?” you laugh again, the clasp on your bracelet still not closed. you kiss the top of his head, chuckling. “i think you need some help, hon.”

CHILDE — matching scarves

the chilly weather of snezhnaya warranted thick coats, long bottoms, and heavy boots. hats or earmuffs were common, but scarves were practically a staple fashion item. they could be worn multiple ways, styled impeccably, and still keep you warm. so when childe gifted you a red scarf that perfectly matched his own, you melted. “is this for me?” you whispered, childe chuckling at the awe in your tone. “uh-huh. look, it matches mine! and red’s a common color here, so it doesn’t look suspicious,” he said. but the real test would be when he was out in public. the red on his face could easily be explained away as from the cold, but you knew that the rosy tint was him blushing. you buried your face in your own scarf, embarrassed. childe just thought it made you look cuter.

[roseodelle]

Arcane Pt2 - Eris Vanserra x Unnamed OC

Eris’s best kept secret is infiltrated.

No use of y/n

WC: 1326

Warnings: Angst, Violence

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

The forest is charred. Their wards are broken, and the glamours have fallen. The cottage is in shambles. Once a beautiful home for them both, smoke now drifts upward from the rubble. Trampled are the flowers and vegetable garden she’d tended to dearly for so many years. The smell makes him sick to his stomach, and he falls to his knees. There’s nothing left.

His chest heaves, his hands gripping and pulling at his short red hair. Tears begin to fall from his face as reality sets in and the sobs begin. It’d happened so quickly. In his quarters of the Forest House one moment, standing above his beheaded brothers the next. Beron will be after him; he knows. He’ll send the hounds and guards before he himself comes to smite him down. He has minutes, if that. He’d killed his brothers. He’d have killed his father, too, if he didn’t know better. But while Eris was strong, Beron was stronger.

Her body... her body lay ahead of him in the destruction of their home. What will Beron do to her, even in death, he wonders? He won’t find out. He will not let Beron desecrate her further. She deserves dignity in her death, and he will give it to her. His love. His grace. His empathy and compassion. His brilliance. His mate. He failed her. How didn’t he know? Why didn’t he feel the intrusion on the ward? Why didn’t he feel her through the bond? Why didn’t she call for him? Why leave her side of the bond closed to him, even near death? Why shield him from his failure, from her pain and fear?

Rising from the scorched earth, he takes an unsteady step forward. His right foot lands on a shard of stained glass that once belonged to the beautiful front door. She’d been so proud to have found it. A great discovery: a decrepit old wooden door with a stained glass window. His chest tightens again. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here. With uneven steps, he walks through the rubble. The sitting room was once such a beautiful space. They’d spent so many hours and so many years together in that room. Once lively shades of green and orange are now a burnt charcoal gray. The kitchen was the same. Only the innermost walls of the home still stand as he makes his way down the hall.

He needs to find her. He dreads finding her. He tries again to tug on that string, that bright orange thread, tying them together. Nothing. He feels nothing. Minutes, he reminds himself. He has minutes until the sentries come. Before Beron comes with vengeance. 

Their bedroom lay just a few steps ahead. The door was broken, leaning sideways on it’s hinges. The smell is stronger here. Putrid death mixes with the remaining scent of his life. Only faint hints of jasmine and sage rise above the remnants of an angry, relentless flame. The scent of his brother was a bitter aftertaste. He marches on.

Their bed was left unmade. The lxurious golden sham is now a horrid black. Down pillows burned to a crisp. Intricate woodwork smolders, and her scent is stronger here, but he still can’t see her. He passes their bed and her vanity. Flower pots and dirt litter the floor, and the burgundy rug he found on a trip to Adriatta is torn into shreds. She’d put up a fight. Good girl. His chest heaves, vomit rises in his throat, and he shakes his head, steadying himself again. He needs to get her out and take her somewhere Beron cannot find her. Where he cannot do her more harm. Where she can rest.

He finds her in the closet. She’s curled inward on herself, her beautiful dress bloody and torn. Her back is still, and the familiar rise and fall of her breath are nonexistent. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He’s shaking again, tears burning his cheeks. Unsteady hands reach toward her burned body. The skin of her back was blistered and damaged beyond repair. There’s so much blood. From her face to her chest, her arms, and her legs. She’s covered in cuts and burns. His sobs become stronger and louder as he reaches for her. She’s not breathing.

“My love.” He brokenly whispers, begs, and pleads with her as he pulls her destroyed body into his arms. He turns her face toward him. Unmarred by the fire of his brother. Her eyes remain closed, the stillness of her chest breaking his soul into pieces. He rests his cheek on hers, his tears making their home on her skin. 

“My love, please. Please wake up.” He chokes back a sob, running his hand along her arm and along her spine in an effort to wake her, but he knows. He knows she’s gone.

“Please. Come back to me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He’ll die here, he decides. How could he take his place as High Lord without her by his side? Let Beron strike him down. Let his father's fire end his life as he holds his mate in his arms. He’d die with her. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to her cold lips, and he closes his eyes. Let him die here.

Two hundred years. Two hundred years of safety. Serenity. Peace. Over. All over. His heavy sobs shake his shoulders and shake the still body in his arms, and as he holds her tighter, he still runs his hands over her arm and back. His hand finally rests on her wrist, checking for a pulse he knows he won’t find. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.” He repeats until the words run together in an incomprehensible mumble, his fingers digging too tightly into her wrist, hoping to feel something he knows he will not. He wasn’t here. He didn’t protect her. For two hundred years, he’d kept her safe. It wasn’t enough. He had failed her. 

His breath stalls in his throat, eyes widening in shock. Denial floods through him as he tugs again at the bond that remains silent, but he felt it. It was so faint, so faint, but it was there. Her pulse.

“My love, my love, please.” He straightens, pulling her tighter to his chest and forcing her face toward his once again. Her beautiful eyes remain closed, but he feels it again. It's so faint, but it’s there. She lives.

His demeanor shifts, his mask falling into place as he assesses the situation anew. She’s mortally wounded. She will not live, not unless she receives help he cannot give her. Cannot provide for her. Not with Beron’s sentries so close behind him. Minutes, he reminds himself. He has but a few minutes with her before they come for him. Before Beron comes from her. Seconds, he amends, another faint pulse coming through much later than the last.

He’s on the border of three courts. He has two options. He can beg for sanctuary in the Summer court. Tarquin is known to be just and kind. But Beron will follow. Beron will follow him across Prythian. Tarquin would not be able to provide the safety or care she requires. Nor Kalias in the Winter Court, who would likely attempt to freeze Eris on sight. 

There is only one true option, he realizes. The Night Court sees Eris as the ruthless, conniving killer he made sure he was known as, but his mate was not like him. Not like the mask he wore. The mask he perfected over two hundred years to protect her. Tensions between Eris and the court were harsh on both sides, but it may be the only place Beron will not follow.

It’s the only option, he knows. And as another weak pulse graces his fingertips and the rustle of leaves alerts him to the first sentry sent for him, he knows what he must do.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 23: A new beginning

A/N: last one 😭😭 Hope you guys enjoy 🩷

Previous chapters ☞ HERE ☜

8.0k words

One year later. 

I stood behind Vanessa, carefully pulling up the zipper of her wedding dress. The delicate fabric gleamed in the soft light of the room, accentuating every elegant curve. Vanessa glanced at herself in the mirror, her breath catching as she took in her reflection.

"Oh my God," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe this is real."

"Hey, no tears," I warned, a laugh escaping my lips as I quickly grabbed a tissue from the vanity. 

"Your makeup will smudge, and then we'll have to start all over."

Vanessa let out a shaky laugh, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears. "You're right. I can't ruin all your hard work."

As I dabbed at the corners of her eyes, her mom walked into the room. She paused, her gaze softening as she took in the sight of her daughter in her wedding dress.

"Are we almost ready?" her mom asked, her voice filled with awe.

Vanessa turned to face her mom, a radiant smile lighting up her face. "Yes, Mom. I'm ready."

Her mom's eyes welled up with tears as she approached Vanessa. "You look beautiful, honey," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Vanessa's mom moved in for a hug, but I quickly stepped in, holding up my hands with a grin. "Whoa, hold on! No smudging my masterpiece."

The three of us burst into laughter, the tension of the moment easing as Vanessa's mom stepped back, her eyes still filled with love and pride.

Her mom smiled and kissed Vanessa on the cheek before leaving the room. "I'll go check on the guests," she said, her voice warm. "They're all eagerly waiting for the bride."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Laura and Raven walked in, their eyes widening as they took in Vanessa's appearance.

"What do you guys think?" I asked, turning to them with a grin.

Laura's eyes sparkled as she looked Vanessa up and down. "You look so beautiful, Vanessa," she said, her voice filled with admiration.

Raven, holding a glass of champagne, shook her head in mock disbelief. "I'm so jealous of you right now," she said with a playful smirk before taking a long sip of her drink.

Vanessa blushed at their compliments, her hands nervously smoothing the fabric of her dress. "Thank you, guys. It means so much to have you all here with me."

We all stood together for a moment, just taking in the significance of the day. Vanessa had chosen us to be her bridesmaids, and I was honored to be her maid of honor. Our sage green dresses complemented the rustic elegance of the venue perfectly, and everything felt like it was falling into place.

The excitement in the room was palpable as we gathered around Vanessa, making sure everything was perfect before the ceremony. This moment was the culmination of a year filled with growth, healing, and love, not just for Vanessa and Wade but for all of us. 

Finally, the time had come. Vanessa took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she steadied herself. "Okay," she said, her voice filled with resolve. "Let's do this."

We all exchanged looks, smiles breaking out on our faces. we all grabbed our small flower bouquets and Laura opened the door, and we began to make our way down to where everyone was waiting for the bride. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for my friend, knowing she was about to start a new chapter in her life.

The barn had been transformed into a dreamlike venue, with twinkling lights hanging from the beams and flowers adorning every surface. As we walked toward the front, where Wade stood waiting with a mixture of nerves and excitement in his eyes, I caught Logan's gaze from the side.

As I looked at him, a thought crept into my mind, one that I hadn't fully allowed myself to entertain until now. I imagined myself in Vanessa's shoes, walking down the aisle toward the man of my dreams. The image was vivid, almost tangible-the soft rustle of a wedding gown, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the quiet anticipation of the room, and Logan standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for me with that same steady, loving gaze.

For a moment, I was lost in that vision, my heart swelling with the possibility of a future I hadn't dared to dream about. The idea of being the one to take that walk, to make that lifelong commitment, sent a thrill through me that I couldn't ignore.

When I snapped back to the present, Logan was still looking at me, his eyes filled with a warmth that made my heart skip a beat. There was a promise in his gaze, one that spoke of a future that wasn't just a dream but a very real possibility.

I smiled softly to myself, feeling a sense of peace and excitement wash over me. Today was Vanessa and Wade's day, but I couldn't help but feel that it was also a day of new beginnings for me, too. as I reached at the end of the isle, I moved to the side to let raven and Laura walked next to me. from where I was standing, I could hear wades heartbeat. I looked at him and calmed his nerves, trying to not let it distract him from the best day of his life. he senses what I was doing and he mouths, thank you and I give him a small smile. i looked next to wade and looked at Logan once more giving him a small smile.

Wade had chosen Logan to be his best man, a decision that had initially annoyed Logan, though I knew deep down he didn't mind. In fact, over the past year, Logan had become one of Wade's closest friends. Their banter, though often sarcastic and sharp, had turned into a deep, unspoken bond. Logan might grumble about Wade's antics, but I could see the fondness in his eyes, the way he always had Wade's back when it truly mattered.

Beside Logan stood Hank, who, despite their vastly different personalities, had also grown close to Wade. It was surprising to see how well they complemented each other-Hank's intellectual curiosity and Wade's chaotic energy somehow balancing out in a way that just worked. Their friendship was unexpected but genuine, a testament to the way our little family had evolved over time.

And at the end of the line, Peter stood as the ring bearer, his usual mischievous grin replaced by a look of serious concentration as he held the rings. Peter and Laura had been dating for a few months now, and seeing Laura happy again, a lightness in her eyes that had been missing for so long, filled me with a sense of peace. Having her back in my life, and seeing her thrive, was priceless.

The music changed, and I turned my attention to where Vanessa was standing at the end of the aisle. The soft notes of the piano captured the moment perfectly as she took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto Wade's. Her gaze was filled with love and kindness, a look that spoke volumes. Wade, in turn, was trying hard not to cry, but I saw the tears slowly escaping down his cheeks.

I glanced around the audience, taking in the faces of everyone we knew. Our friends were all here-Scott, Storm, and Charles, who was seated next to Erik, now his partner. Ellie was there too, along with their girlfriend Yukio, and Colossus, Althea, Dopinder, and other friends and mutants who had become a part of our extended family. The room was filled with warmth and affection, the love that had brought us all together evident in every smile and tear.

As watch Vanessa slowly walk, my head reminded me of how we got to this point. A few months ago, my memories started to come back little by little. One day, while I was asleep, I found myself in a dream, standing in a vast, ethereal field bathed in a soft, purple glow. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, and I felt a familiar presence nearby.

The other me, the powerful and darker version of myself I had encountered before, appeared before me. Her eyes, usually filled with intensity and a sense of foreboding, were now calm, almost serene.

"You've changed the path of your life," she said, her voice echoing softly in the dreamscape. "That day on the battlefield, when you chose to stand with the X-Men, you altered more than just your own fate."

I stared at her, trying to understand the full weight of her words. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering slightly.

"Giving peace to Erik, freeing him from the burden of his pain, set off a chain reaction," she explained. "The darkness that once threatened to consume you, to consume all of us, has been diminished. You've proven that the future isn't set in stone, that it can be changed with the right choices."

I felt a wave of relief and hope wash over me, but there was still a lingering doubt in my mind. "But what about you?" I asked. "Are you still a part of me?"

She smiled, a gentle and knowing expression. "I will always be a part of you, but I am no longer the force that drives you. You've taken control of your own destiny, and in doing so, you've given both of us a chance to live in peace."

The dream began to fade, and I felt myself being pulled back to the waking world. As I slowly opened my eyes, I realized that the weight that had been pressing on me for so long was finally lifting. The memories, the pain, the fear-they were all still there, but they no longer had the same hold over me.

I had chosen a different path, one filled with love, family, and hope. And in doing so, I had changed not just my own future, but the future of those around me.

The ceremony went by quickly, a beautiful blur of vows, exchanged rings, and tearful smiles. Before we knew it, it was time for the party to begin. The barn had been transformed into a lively party venue, with tables set up for dining and a spacious dance floor waiting to be filled. Twinkling lights continued to cast a warm glow, and the energy in the room was infectious as everyone prepared to let loose and enjoy the evening.

As the guests moved from the ceremony to the reception area, I could hear the buzz of excited conversations and the clinking of glasses. The air was filled with the scent of delicious food, and a live band had started playing soft, upbeat tunes to set the mood.

Vanessa and Wade entered the reception to a round of applause and cheers, their smiles brighter than ever. They shared a quick, joyful kiss before heading straight to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. The room fell into a hush as they swayed together, completely lost in each other. It was a moment of pure love and happiness, and I couldn't help but feel a little emotional watching them.

Logan was by my side, his arm wrapped around my waist as we watched the newlyweds. "They look so happy," I whispered, leaning into him.

He nodded, his eyes soft as he watched the couple on the dance floor. "They deserve it," he said quietly. "After everything they've been through, it's good to see them like this."

As Vanessa and Wade's dance came to an end, the guests erupted in applause, and the atmosphere shifted from tender to lively. The band picked up the pace, playing a more upbeat tune that beckoned everyone to join in on the dance floor.

"Come on," Logan said, pulling me toward the dance floor with a rare, playful grin. "Let's show them how it's done."

I laughed, letting him lead me into the crowd. The music was infectious, and soon we were surrounded by friends, all of us dancing and laughing as the night truly began. Laura and Peter were dancing nearby, their moves more playful and energetic than romantic, but it was clear they were having a blast. Wade was in his element, pulling off ridiculous dance moves that had Vanessa laughing so hard she had to hold onto him for support.

We danced until my feet started to hurt. I yelled through the loud music. "I need a break!" 

Logan nodded, a playful smirk on his face as he leaned in close to my ear. "I was wondering how long you'd last."

I playfully swatted at his arm, laughing as I caught my breath. "Hey, I lasted longer than you thought!"

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist as we made our way off the dance floor. "You did, Bub. You definitely did."

We found a small table off to the side, away from the main crowd but still close enough to feel the energy of the party. I slipped off my heels, sighing in relief as I wiggled my toes. "Ah, much better."

Logan leaned back in his chair, his gaze soft as he watched me. "You look like you're having the time of your life."

"I am," I admitted, looking around at our friends, all of whom were immersed in the celebration. "It's been such a long time since we've all been able to just... enjoy ourselves, you know? No missions, no threats hanging over our heads. Just us, living in the moment."

Logan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it feels good. Really good."

I reached across the table, taking his hand in mine. "I'm glad we're here together. After everything we've been through... it's nice to just be us."

Logan squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

I looked at him, my heart pounding as I contemplated the secret I had been holding on to for a week. The weight of it felt even heavier now, knowing that I couldn't keep it from him much longer.

One week ago...

Laura and I had gone to the mall to buy Vanessa a wedding present. We were laughing, talking about what kind of gift would make Wade burst into tears, when suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere. I clutched my stomach as we passed by a pizza place, the smell of the food turning my stomach. Without a word, I bolted to the nearest bathroom, barely making it in time before I puked.

Laura was right behind me, her face pale with worry. "Oh my god, are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

I rinsed my mouth out and splashed some water on my face, trying to steady my breathing. "Yeah... I think so," I said, though I didn't sound convincing, even to myself. "I probably ate something bad."

Laura looked at me skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied my face. "Maybe we should go home. You don't look so great."

I nodded, grateful for her suggestion. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

But as the day went on, the nausea didn't go away. In fact, it seemed to get worse. Everything smelled terrible, even things that I usually loved. My powers felt erratic, like they were being affected by whatever was going on with my body. I was exhausted, and nothing seemed to help.

Then, something clicked in my mind, a realization that hit me like a ton of bricks.

Could it be...?

I quickly walked into my bathroom, my mind racing as I searched through the drawers for the pregnancy test Vanessa had left behind a few months ago. My hands trembled as I found it, quickly opening the box and following the instructions. The minutes felt like hours as I waited for the result, the tiny window on the test holding the answer to a question I hadn't even known I was asking.

As the minutes dragged on, I couldn't sit still. I paced back and forth in the living room, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of possibilities and fears. Every few seconds, I glanced at the test sitting on the counter, willing time to move faster.

Just then, Laura walked out of her room, looking at me with a mix of confusion and concern. "Violet, what's going on? You're making me dizzy just watching you."

I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding as I tried to find the right words. "I... I think I might be pregnant," I finally admitted, the words feeling surreal as they left my mouth.

Laura's eyes widened, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"

I nodded, my gaze flicking back to the test on the counter. "I just took a test. I'm waiting for the result."

Laura walked over, her footsteps hesitant as she joined me in front of the bathroom counter. We both stared at the little window on the test, the silence between us thick with anticipation.

"How long does it take?" Laura asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Just a few more seconds," I replied, my voice trembling with nerves.

Finally, the result began to appear. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as the faint lines slowly came into view. Two lines. Positive.

"Oh my god," Laura whispered, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the test. "Violet, you're..."

"Pregnant," I finished, my voice shaking with a mix of shock, fear, and a strange sense of excitement. "I'm pregnant."

The reality of it hit me like a tidal wave, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. I was going to have a baby. Logan's baby.

Laura wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. "Violet, this is amazing! Are you okay? How do you feel?"

I hugged her back, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. "I don't know," I admitted, my voice muffled against her shoulder. "I'm scared, but... I'm also kind of happy? I didn't expect this, but now that it's real... I think I'm happy."

Laura pulled back, a huge smile on her face. "Logan's going to be over the moon when you tell him."

I nodded, my thoughts drifting to Logan and how he would react to the news. I knew I needed to tell him, but didn't know when or how. But first, I had to come to terms with it myself.

"Yeah," I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I think he will be."

Present

I found myself lost in thought as Logan's thumb gently traced circles over my knuckles. The music, the laughter, the lights-they all seemed to blur into the background as I considered the secret I'd been holding onto for a week now.

Could this be the right moment to tell him?

I glanced at Logan, his eyes filled with a warmth that made my heart swell. He looked so content, so at peace. Part of me wanted to wait, to hold onto this moment just a little longer before changing everything. But another part of me knew that Logan deserved to know-deserved to share in the joy and the uncertainty that had been swirling inside me ever since I took that test.

I took a deep breath, the sound of the party fading even further as I gathered the courage to speak. "Logan," I began, my voice soft but steady, "there's something I need to tell you."

His eyes locked onto mine, the seriousness in my tone catching his attention immediately. "What is it, Bub?"

I hesitated for only a moment longer, then decided to just say it. "I'm pregnant."

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stop. The world around us, the music, the laughter-it all disappeared as Logan's eyes widened in surprise. His grip on my hand tightened just slightly, his expression shifting from shock to something I couldn't quite place.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, almost as if he needed to hear the word again to believe it.

I nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at my lips. "Yes, Logan. We're going to have a baby."

For a moment, his face went blank, and my heart dropped. Panic surged through me. Maybe telling him wasn't the right choice. Maybe I should've waited longer, given him more time. Did he even want to be a father?

I began to backpedal, the words tumbling out of me in a rush. "We don't have to keep it, Logan. I mean, there are a lot of options, and if you're not ready, we can-"

But before I could finish, Logan moved. In an instant, he wrapped me in his arms, pulling me close in a hug so tight it almost took my breath away. The panic that had been rising in me dissipated as I felt the strength of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against mine.

"Violet," he murmured into my hair, his voice thick with emotion, "I want this. I want us. I want our family."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I clung to him, relief flooding through me. The fear, the uncertainty-it all melted away in the warmth of his words, leaving only love and the promise of what was to come.

"I'm so glad," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I was so scared, Logan. I didn't know how you'd feel."

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his hands still holding me close. "I'm not going anywhere, Violet. We're in this together, every step of the way."

I nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude and love wash over me. "Together," I echoed, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them side by side.

Logan leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, then to my lips, his touch tender and reassuring. "We're going to be okay, V," he whispered against my lips. "All four of us."

I smiled through my tears, the weight of the world lifting from my shoulders. "All four of us," I repeated, the words filling me with a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time.

7 months later

As I struggled to slip into my yellow dress, the fabric stretching over my swollen belly, I couldn't help but feel a rush of joy. Today was my baby shower, a day I had been looking forward to for months. Vanessa had taken the reins on planning everything, and though Logan and I had decided to keep the baby's gender a surprise, Vanessa knew and was bursting with excitement. The anticipation made me both nervous and eager to finally learn the secret she had been holding onto.

We had decided to host the baby shower at the mansion. It was the perfect place-spacious, familiar, and home to so many of the people we loved. Plus, it was a lot more practical than trying to cram everyone into our apartment, especially with my ever-growing belly making it harder to move around.

My pregnancy had been mostly smooth. The baby felt like it weighed a ton, making my back ache constantly, but other than that, everything had been fine. After the first month, the nausea had faded, giving way to the strangest cravings. I couldn't get enough of anything covered in chocolate or spicy chips, which I had to sneak because Logan was adamant about me eating healthier. I couldn't help but smile, thinking about the stash of spicy chips and Nutella I had hidden away for moments just like this.

After finally managing to get dressed, I grabbed my trusty jar of Nutella and a spoon, ready for a little pre-party snack. Waddling down the stairs, I was savoring a mouthful of chocolatey goodness when I ran into Hank and Peter, who were on their way up.

"Wow there," Hank said with a concerned look, immediately reaching out to steady me. "Let us help you down the stairs."

I tried to protest, rolling my eyes. "Guys, I'm not a baby. I can walk perfectly fine."

Peter, always quick with a joke, grinned. "Yeah, but with that belly, you walk like one. Better safe than sorry!"

I huffed, half-amused and half-annoyed, but I let them guide me down the rest of the stairs. It was hard to stay irritated when they were just trying to help. Besides, I knew how much they all cared, and that made it easier to accept their overprotectiveness.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I took a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. Today was going to be a big day, filled with surprises, laughter, and probably a few tears. And despite the discomfort of carrying what felt like a small planet in my belly, I couldn't wait to share this moment with everyone.

As I walked into the living room, I was greeted by a sea of blue and pink. The entire room was filled with decorations-balloons in every shade of blue and pink hung from the ceiling, streamers draped across the walls, and tables were covered with treats and food that matched the theme. The atmosphere was festive, buzzing with excitement, and it was clear that Vanessa had gone all out.

Everyone was dressed in either blue or pink, their outfits proudly displaying their guesses for the baby's gender. It was heartwarming to see so many people gathered here, all of them eager to celebrate this special moment with us. Familiar faces beamed at me from across the room-Scott, Storm, Charles, Laura, Wade, and even Erik, who gave me a warm smile from where he stood near the snack table, a plate of food already in hand.

Vanessa spotted me and hurried over, her face lighting up as she took in my expression. "What do you think?" she asked, a hint of pride in her voice.

"It's amazing," was all I could say, my voice filled with gratitude and emotion.

As everyone noticed me standing there, the excitement in the room seemed to double. Friends and family started to gather around, each person wanting to share in the joy of the moment. They greeted me with warm smiles, kind words, and, of course, gentle rubs on my belly.

"You're glowing, Violet," Storm said, her eyes filled with warmth as she placed a hand on my stomach.

Raven, standing beside her, grinned and added, "I can't wait to meet this little one! You're going to be such an amazing mom."

As I looked around, taking in the love and support from everyone, I suddenly realized someone was missing. I glanced over at Vanessa. "Where's Logan?" I asked.

"Oh, he's with Wade, getting the cake," she replied with a reassuring smile. "They should be here any minute."

" You better have picked chocolate cake" I told Vanessa as I was getting annoyed by the handsy mutants in front of me. 

Vanessa chuckled, a playful glint in her eye. "Of course, I made sure it was chocolate. I know better than to mess with your cravings!" She winked, and I couldn't help but laugh.

As I gently nudged away hands that were overly eager to rub my belly, I added, "they better not mess the cake up."

Vanessa grinned. "Yeah, thats why I sent Logan with him just in case."

I laughed, walking over the dessert table, my mouth watering at the options.

Just then, the front door opened, and Logan walked in, carrying a large, beautifully decorated cake with Wade trailing behind him, holding another box, likely filled with additional treats. Logan's eyes immediately found mine, and a smile spread across his face.

"Did someone say chocolate cake?" Wade announced as he set the box down on the table, dramatically lifting the lid to reveal an assortment of desserts. "Because I brought enough to feed an army."

I shook my head, amused. "You didn't have to bring the whole bakery, Wade."

Wade shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just making sure you and the little one are well-fed. Plus, who can say no to cake?"

Logan came over to me, setting the cake down gently on the table before wrapping an arm around my waist. "Everything good, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing my side.

"Perfect," I replied, leaning into him. "But I'm going to need that cake soon."

Vanessa clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention with a wide smile. "Okay, everyone, let's get started with the baby shower games!" she announced, her excitement infectious.

The guests cheered, gathering around as Vanessa began explaining the first game. "We're going to start with the classic 'Guess the Baby Food' game," she said, holding up a tray of small jars with mysterious labels covering the original names. "You'll each get a spoonful of baby food, and you have to guess what flavor it is. No cheating!"

Groans and laughter erupted from the group as Wade dramatically pretended to gag. "Baby food? Really, Vanessa? You know my delicate palate can't handle that!"

"Come on, Wade, just do it." Vanessa teased back, handing out small spoons to everyone.

Logan looked at me with a playful smirk. "I'll bet you I can guess more flavors than you."

I raised an eyebrow, my competitive spirit kicking in. "You're on, Logan. Loser has to change all the diapers for a week."

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss my temple. "Deal."

Vanessa went around, giving each person a taste of the mystery baby food. The room was filled with laughter and exaggerated reactions as people tried to guess the strange and often unappetizing flavors. Logan grimaced as he tasted something particularly unpleasant, while Wade loudly complained about the "green sludge" he was sure was supposed to be peas.

After a few rounds of guessing and lots of laughter, Vanessa revealed the answers. "And the winner is... drumroll, please..."

Everyone tapped their hands on their legs, creating a drumroll sound.

"Violet!" Vanessa announced, holding up a small prize wrapped in pastel-colored paper. "You guessed the most flavors correctly!"

I grinned, accepting the prize with a mock bow. "Looks like you're on diaper duty, Logan."

He shook his head, laughing. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

The games continued, with everyone fully immersed in the fun. We played "Baby Charades," where guests had to act out different baby-related scenarios, and "Pin the Pacifier on the Baby," which resulted in a lot of playful shoving and misplaced pacifiers.

As the afternoon wore on, the room was filled with the sound of laughter, teasing, and the warmth of friends and family celebrating together. Logan and I shared more than a few knowing looks, both of us grateful for the love and support that surrounded us.

It was finally time to cut the cake and reveal the gender of our baby. Vanessa, who had been waiting for this moment with barely contained excitement, brought the cake to the center of the room. The cake was beautifully decorated with delicate swirls of frosting, adorned with tiny baby-themed decorations, but it was the inside that held the real surprise.

Everyone gathered around, their excitement palpable. Logan stood beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist, as we both took hold of the knife. The room fell silent, the anticipation thick in the air.

"Ready?" Logan whispered, his voice filled with both excitement and nerves.I nodded, smiling up at him. "Ready."

Together, we slowly pushed the knife into the cake, cutting through the layers with ease. The moment the knife made contact with the center, the room seemed to hold its breath. Logan and I carefully pulled out the first slice, revealing the color inside.

A collective gasp filled the room as everyone saw the vibrant pink cake. "It's a girl!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with joy.

Cheers erupted around us, making me feel the love and happiness radiating from them. Logan's smile was so wide it lit up the entire room, and he pulled me into a hug, lifting me off the ground as he spun me around.

"We're having a little girl," Logan said, his voice thick with emotion as he set me back down. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked around the room, taking in the faces of our friends and family who were all celebrating with us. It was a moment of pure happiness, one that I knew I would treasure forever.

Wade, who had been holding back tears himself, stepped forward and threw his arms around both of us. "A mini Violet! The world isn't ready!" he exclaimed, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

As we all dug into the cake, the room filled with chatter and excitement about the baby's future. Vanessa and Laura were already planning out the nursery, discussing color schemes and baby names with a level of enthusiasm that made me laugh.

Logan kept me close, his hand never leaving mine as we mingled with our guests. Every now and then, he'd lean in to whisper something sweet in my ear or place a protective hand on my growing belly. It was clear that he was just as overjoyed as I was, already embracing his role as a father with the same fierce dedication he showed in everything he did.

As the celebration continued, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This baby was already so loved, and I knew that with Logan by my side, we were ready to face whatever the future held. Surrounded by the people who meant the most to us, I felt a deep sense of contentment and happiness, knowing that our little family was about to grow in the most wonderful way.

One month later

I woke up to an intense pain in my stomach, sharp and unrelenting. It was 1 a.m., and the apartment was eerily quiet. Logan wasn't here; he had gone on one last mission, promising to stay by my side for the final weeks of my pregnancy. I sat up, hoping the pain would ease, but it only grew more intense, radiating through my body in waves. Panic began to set in as I fumbled through the covers, trying to find my phone.

Another contraction hit, stronger this time, and I couldn't hold back the scream that tore from my throat. My hands shook as I finally located my phone, the screen glaringly bright in the darkness. I scrolled through my contacts, heart racing. Logan was out of reach, Laura was all the way at the mansion, and the pain was only getting worse.

Then it hit me-I wasn't alone. Vanessa and Wade were literally my neighbors. I quickly dialed Vanessa's number, praying she would pick up.

The phone rang once, twice, before I heard the groggy but concerned voice on the other end. "Violet? What's wrong?"

"Vanessa," I gasped, another contraction stealing my breath. "It's the baby. I think... I think she's coming. The pain-it's too much."

There was a moment of silence, then I heard the unmistakable rustling of sheets and the urgency in Vanessa's voice as she called out to Wade. "Wade! Get up! It's time!"

"Violet, hang tight. We're coming over right now," Vanessa assured me, her voice calm despite the situation. "Just breathe, okay? We'll be there in a second."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, trying to focus on my breathing as she had taught me during our many pregnancy chats. But the contractions were relentless, and fear gripped me as I realized how fast everything was happening. The baby was too early but the contractions were continuing in a rapid pace.

Within what felt like no time at all, I heard the front door burst open, and then Vanessa and Wade were in my bedroom, both looking wide awake and fully alert despite the early hour.

"Oh, honey," Vanessa breathed, rushing to my side. She placed a reassuring hand on my arm while Wade looked at me, eyes wide but determined.

"Alright, we're going to get you to the hospital," Wade said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Everything's going to be fine. I'm practically a trained midwife. I've seen like a hundred birthing videos."

Vanessa shot him a look. "Not helping, Wade. Grab her bag and let's go."

Wade nodded, quickly moving to grab the hospital bag I had packed weeks ago, just in case. Vanessa helped me stand, supporting me as we slowly made our way to the door.

Another contraction hit just as we reached the hallway, and I doubled over, clutching Vanessa for support. She held me up, rubbing my back soothingly. "You're doing great, Violet. Just a little more, and we'll be at the hospital."

Wade was already out the door, running ahead to start the car that Charles gave to them as a wedding present. Vanessa stayed with me, guiding me through each step, each breath, as we made our way downstairs.

By the time we reached the car, the contractions were coming fast and hard, and I could barely think through the pain. Wade helped me into the backseat, where Vanessa climbed in beside me, holding my hand tightly.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road!" Wade announced as he floored the gas, speeding toward the hospital. Vanessa kept her focus on me, her calm presence a lifeline in the chaos.

"Just keep breathing, Violet," she said softly. "We're almost there. You're so strong, you've got this."

I nodded, trying to focus on her words, on the fact that soon I would be meeting my baby girl. The thought filled me with a mix of fear and excitement, but I knew that as long as I had my friends by my side, I could face anything.

As we hurried toward the hospital entrance, each step felt like a battle. The pain was becoming unbearable, radiating through my entire body. I reached out instinctively, grabbing Wade's arm as another contraction hit me like a wave. My grip was tight, almost desperate, and I heard him let out a small wince, though he quickly tried to mask it with a reassuring smile.

"Easy there, Violet," he joked, though his voice was strained. "I need that arm to hold your baby later."

Despite the pain, I managed a weak smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. But the reality of what was happening was impossible to ignore. My breaths were coming out in short, frantic gasps, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as the contractions came closer together, each one more intense than the last.

Vanessa, who was on my other side, squeezed my hand. "We're almost there, Violet. Just a few more steps. You're doing amazing."

I nodded, biting down on my lip to keep from crying out. The automatic doors of the hospital slid open, and the cool, sterile air hit me, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from my body. A nurse spotted us immediately, her eyes widening as she took in the scene.

"We need a wheelchair!" Vanessa called out, her voice firm but calm. Within moments, a wheelchair was brought over, and Wade helped me into it with surprising gentleness.

As I sat down, a sharp pain shot through me, and I couldn't hold back the cry that escaped my lips. Wade crouched down in front of me, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it.

"Hey, listen to me," he said, his voice steady. "You're going to be fine. We're all here with you, and you're going to bring that little girl into the world like a champ."

I nodded, clinging to his words as the nurse began to wheel me toward the maternity ward. they both stayed right by my side, never letting go of my hands. The ride down the hallway felt both too long and too short, the fluorescent lights overhead blurring together as I focused on just getting through each contraction.

Finally, we reached the delivery room. The medical staff quickly took over, guiding me onto the bed. Vanessa hovered nearby, her presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

As the doctor came in and introduced herself, I felt a sudden surge of panic. Logan wasn't here. He should be here, holding my hand, telling me everything would be okay. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying, and I could feel the tears starting to fall.

Wade was across the room, pacing back and forth with his phone pressed to his ear. His usual joking demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, he was dead serious, frantically trying to get in touch with Logan. Every time he hit a dead end, I could see the frustration building in his expression.

"Come on peanut, pick up!" he muttered, dialing yet another number. I watched as he paused, listening intently for a response. When none came, he cursed under his breath and tried the next number on his list.

"Wade, what's going on?" I managed to ask between contractions, my voice strained.

Wade looked over at me, his face a mixture of determination and worry. "I'm trying to get Logan here, but he's off the grid. I'm calling everyone-Scott, Storm, Peter-you name it. Someone's gotta be able to reach him."

Vanessa, who was still holding my hand, gave Wade a reassuring nod. "He'll get through, Violet. Wade won't stop until he does."

Wade gave a quick thumbs-up before turning his attention back to the phone. "Come on, Logan, pick up the damn phone," he muttered, hitting redial for what felt like the hundredth time.The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Wade's determination was unwavering; he was clearly willing to call every single X-Man on the planet if that's what it took to get Logan home.

Finally, I saw Wade's expression change. His eyes widened slightly, and he stopped pacing. "Finally! Logan, listen up!" he nearly shouted into the phone. "Violet's in labor. You need to get your hairy butt back here right now!"

I couldn't hear Logan's response, but the tension in Wade's shoulders eased slightly as he listened. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. She's doing great, but you better hurry up before you miss the whole show."

Wade paused, nodding at whatever Logan was saying on the other end. "Good. Get here fast, man. We've got this covered, but you need to be here." 

He hung up the phone and turned back to me, a wide grin on his face. "Logan's on his way. He's gonna make it, I hope."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I nodded, tears of gratitude filling my eyes. "Thank you, Wade. Thank you so much."

Logan was on his way, and with Wade and Vanessa by my side, I knew I could do this.

"Where the hell is Logan!!!???" I groaned, the pain making my voice sharp as I began to push. Wade and Vanessa were right next to me, each holding one of my hands, their faces etched with concern.

"I know, I know, but you've got this, Violet," Wade said, his usual sarcasm gone, replaced by genuine worry and determination. "Just keep breathing, okay? Logan's gonna walk in any second now, I promise."

Vanessa squeezed my hand gently, her eyes locked on mine, offering silent encouragement. "You're doing amazing, Violet. Just a little more."

The doctor at the foot of the bed, calm and composed, looked up at me. "Violet, you need to start pushing with the next contraction. You're doing great, but we need to keep going."

I nodded, trying to focus on the doctor's instructions, but the pain was overwhelming, and all I could think about was Logan. Where was he? I needed him here, now.

Another contraction hit me like a wave, and I gritted my teeth, gripping Wade and Vanessa's hands as I pushed with all my strength. The room was a blur of activity, nurses moving around me, the doctor's voice a steady guide through the chaos.

"Good, Violet, that's good," the doctor encouraged. "Keep pushing, you're almost there."I could barely process the words. All I could do was focus on the pain and the desperate need to see Logan walk through that door. My breath came in ragged gasps, and I pushed again, harder this time, feeling the intense pressure.

"Come on, Violet, you're doing it!" Vanessa cheered, her voice filled with pride and love.

"Logan's gonna kick himself if he misses this," Wade added, trying to keep the mood light, even as I squeezed his hand so hard he winced.

I took a deep breath, drawing on every ounce of strength I had left. I could feel the baby moving, the pressure increasing, and I knew it wouldn't be long now. 

"Push, Violet, push!" the doctor urged, and I did, giving it everything I had.

The room seemed to fade away as I focused on pushing, the pain intensifying with each wave that coursed through my body. Wade and Vanessa's voices were distant, muffled by the pounding of my heart in my ears. All I could think about was getting through this, bringing my baby into the world, and hoping that Logan would somehow walk through that door before it was all over.

"Just one more big push, Violet!" the doctor called out, their voice the only thing anchoring me to the moment.

I took a deep breath, gathered every bit of strength I had left, and pushed with everything I had. The pain was overwhelming, but then, suddenly, it was followed by a sensation of release. I gasped, my body trembling as I collapsed back onto the bed, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

There was a brief moment of silence, a heartbeat where time seemed to stand still, and then the room was filled with the sound of a baby's first cry. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

"You did it, Violet," Vanessa said, her voice choked with emotion, tears streaming down her face.

Wade let out a breath he had been holding, his grip on my hand loosening as he leaned over to kiss my forehead. "You're a freakin' superhero, Violet. You did it."

The doctor carefully lifted my baby, and I watched in awe as they gently placed the tiny, wriggling form on my chest. I felt a rush of overwhelming love and relief as I looked down at my child, tears spilling down my cheeks. My baby. Our baby.

"Congratulations, Violet," the doctor said softly. "It's a beautiful, healthy baby girl."I looked down at my daughter, her tiny face scrunched up as she cried, her little fists waving in the air. She was perfect in every way, and I couldn't believe she was finally here.

I kissed her soft forehead, my tears mixing with her own as I whispered, "Welcome to the world, little one. I'm your mama, and I'm going to love you forever."

The door to the room burst open suddenly, and there was Logan, his eyes wide with panic and relief, his chest heaving as if he had run a marathon. "Violet! I'm so sorry-"

But I didn't need to hear anything else. The sight of him was enough to make my heart swell with love. "Logan," I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked up at him, our daughter still cradled in my arms. "She's here."

Logan's eyes softened as he walked over, his gaze never leaving our baby. He reached out a tentative hand, gently brushing his fingers over her tiny head, his face a mixture of awe and pure love. "She's... she's perfect," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

He leaned down to kiss me, his lips lingering against mine as he whispered, "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, Violet. I tried to get back as fast as I could."

"You're here now," I replied, my voice thick with tears. "That's all that matters."

Logan sat down beside me on the bed, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as we both looked down at our daughter, who had finally stopped crying and was now gazing up at us with wide, curious eyes.

The nurse, who had been quietly observing, gave us a gentle smile. "What would be the name of your baby girl?" she asked softly.

I looked down at our little miracle, the name already forming in my heart, a name that felt right, that felt like it was meant for her. 

"Scarlett," I said, my voice soft but certain. "Scarlett Howlett Williams."

A/N: And that's the end! Thank you to those who have supported me throughout this story. I hope you enjoyed the ending. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️

I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭

Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!

Rush! - Matty Healy

A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!! (edit: this is non-canon, so it doesnt have anything to do with the plot of MPIND or its sequel, Before you go)

wc: 9k

content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.) 

Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing. 

“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.

“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.  

“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction). 

Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway. 

Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair 

“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.  

“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him. 

“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space. 

“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves 

“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty. 

“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.

“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk. 

“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed. 

“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out. 

Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at? 

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him. 

“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air. 

“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating. 

The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside. 

“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him. 

“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.

“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach. 

“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did. 

“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way. 

“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!” 

“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans. 

Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it. 

“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin. 

“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses. 

“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless. 

You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.

Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder. 

Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes. 

Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now. 

“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust. 

“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet. 

“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.

Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point. 

“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess. 

His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself. 

“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses. 

Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning. 

He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more. 

Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face. 

“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door. 

“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-

“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face. 

“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.

The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff. 

Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.

“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited. 

“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks. 

Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer. 

“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests. 

“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket. 

Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo. 

George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side. 

“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself. 

“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.

George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse. 

A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.

“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh. 

His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.

The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.

“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.

“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time. 

“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty 

“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.

Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.

“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.

“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off. 

“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize. 

His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop. 

“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room. 

“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot. 

You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.

The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight. 

You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross. 

“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’. 

“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.  

Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.

“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps. 

Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted. 

“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down. 

“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end. 

“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement. 

“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.” 

The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next. 

Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something. 

A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all. 

Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents. 

“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw. 

“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly. 

“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?” 

A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you. 

“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard. 

“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’. 

“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–” 

You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. 

“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view. 

You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling. 

The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.

Jesus christ.

Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.  

His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him. 

“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not. 

An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.

“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.

“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.” 

You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.

He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead. 

Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.

“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car. 

“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front. 

“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips. 

“No.” 

“W-what?” 

His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done. 

“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you. 

Towering over him, you observe. 

It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it. 

Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room. 

You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints. 

“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions. 

“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.  

“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. 

Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free. 

“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?” 

Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest. 

“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.

“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds

“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.

“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.

“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.

“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.

“Look at what you do to me.” 

His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted. 

“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking. 

“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant. 

“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”  

“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again. 

“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin. 

“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.    

“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house. 

You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought. 

“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane. 

“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck. 

Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand. 

“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand. 

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him. 

“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements. 

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.

It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug. 

You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south. 

You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him. 

“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely. 

“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy. 

“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak. 

“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white. 

You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body. 

Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. 

“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest. 

“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief. 

“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.

“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close. 

“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh. 

“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead. 

“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain. 

“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze. 

“Was it?” 

“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest. 

“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.  

“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice. 

“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.

Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization 

“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. 

“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief. 

“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”  

“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.

“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him. 

Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so. 

Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you. 

“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up. 

“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city. 

Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.

Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses. 

“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.

You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box. 

A small one.  

read part two here xx

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

The Taming of Man: chapter two - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

Yet another chapter of this getting cranked out, slowly waiting for burnout to catch up to me :/ Hope you Enjoy!

ONCE AGAIN, This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.

Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters, Shirtless Katsuki, and copious amounts of grass-touching

words: 2,684

"Do you vow allegiance to your land?"

"I do."

"Do you vow allegiance to your people?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to never leave, and to spend every day hereafter in your country?"

"..."

"ugh," your handmaid Ururaka sighed, shaking her head and shutting the aged book in her lap. "You can't hesitate! How do you expect to be crowned if you hesitate," she scolded, her brow furrowing.

"I know, I know," you groaned, hanging your head in your hands. It was going to be your 20th birthday in a month, and as princess of the fae you would have to go through your coronation to become queen of the fae. you have to make an oath, the same oath you were just practicing, in order to be placed on the throne. The people took this very seriously, and if they sensed you were being disingenuous they wouldn't allow your crowning.

"I just...what if there's good out there? what if things have changed?" You peered at your trusted servant seated across from you from between your fingers, watching as she looked displeased and sighed again. "And what if there's not? You know what happened, you've heard the stories," she explained, gentle yet firm.

You sat back up, looking out through the baby-blue stained window right next to you. You watched as children played in the courtyard, golden glitter shooting from their fingers as they "shot" at each other. Pegasus' pulled wagons of fruit and grain in, men and women unloading them and carrying the bags into the door that led to the royal kitchen. Life was so quaint, so perfect, so comfortable, and yet so...boring.

"I don't see the issue if I already go out there," you grumbled, crossing your arms with eyes locked on the scene before you. Ochako rubbed her tired eyes, quite frankly sick of your bullshit, and just stood from her chair. "You know the issue, a Queen doesn't leave her people," she said pointedly, coming around behind you and beginning to braid your hair into a bun. The tension was going to give you a headache, you just knew it.

your lips pressed together at her words, and sighing in defeat you said, "fine...but I'm not a queen yet." Ochako let out a sniff of amusement, smiling a little to herself. "you know how your mother would feel if I let you go," she reasoned, scooping a little gel from a container on the vanity behind her and slicking back your baby hairs.

"well yeah, that's what secrets are for," you laughed, wincing a little as you felt your hair twist in her skilled hands. Ochako was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing her options. "...don't expect me to lie if you get caught."

You nodded eagerly, and she gave an affirming nod back as she finished your hair. "There," she said in an accomplished tone, happy with the bun, and you stood to hug her. "Thank you," you exclaimed, grabbing your basket and rushing out. You'd want to wash your clothes, you loved how the water made them feel. "It's not like I'm allowed to say no anyways," she called after you, raising and dropping her arms dejectedly.

You zoomed past servants and scholars, your bare feet pounding against the opal halls of the palace you called home. Room after room you passed, the library, the billiards room, the study, all to get to the window just before the stairs. After all, why go down 5 flights of stairs when you could hop out a window? You popped it open, looking down to check if that abandoned wagon was still there, and blithely hopped out. Your sage green skirt and white underskirts caught a little wind, blinding you for a second, before you landed on the wagon full of hippogriff down.

You didn't feel a thing, although the pile was difficult to climb out of. You plunged your hand into the dense fluff, grabbing a rope before clambering out of the feathers. Your feet sunk into mud as you walked towards the giant wall that protected the castle, the white material gleaming in the sun. You threw the rope over the side, listening for the sound of metal hitting metal as the weighted end clanged against an anchor. Perfect.

Tugging it first to be sure it was secure, you began to climb up the side of the wall, your corset making it increasingly uncomfortable. Your feet stuck a little to the wall, thankfully not slipping, and it took you a full minute to climb all the way to the top. Once you reached it, you stood for a second surveying the area, taking a breath of fresh air and watching for anyone who might see you.

Seeing nobody, you grinned and jumped down, knees bending as you hit the ground. You began to run, giggling happily and undoing the bun Ochako worked so hard on. You were practically flying, running far from the palace that kept you feeling imprisoned. You could feel the eyes of the birds and chipmunks, you could hear them giggling with you.

You started to slow down, your legs beginning to hurt, and you stopped to sit on a rock. Catching your breath, you looked around, examining the forest you called your second home. The sun dappled through the trees, the grass releasing a gold shimmer with each disturbance, and the scent of the spindling vines covered in white flowers citric and sweet.

You smiled, stretching a little and standing back up. From now on, you walked leisurely, sure no one would catch up to you, even if they realized you were gone. While walking, you began to hum, singing the song of your country. It was ingrained in your history, a legend many took incredibly seriously. You yourself believed it, but you didn't think it was so relevant now.

It took you a while, but you finally reached the babbling brook you were so fond of. It shimmered different colors from different angles, sometimes purple, sometimes red, sometimes every color in between. You kept walking down the side of it, singing your song the whole way, until you reached the perfect spot. In the very center of this part of the stream was a ring of water club mushrooms, each cluster a different color.

Carefully, you balanced on rocks peaking out the top of the brook, not wanting to fall and get swept away. Once you reached the circle, you took a deep breath, holding it and hopping into the center.

Suddenly, you were underwater, slowly treading up to the surface. You reached the top, swallowing up air and climbing out. The second you left the water, you and your clothes were dry, as was your basket. You looked around, taking in the smell of the multicolored flowers. You set down your basket on the giant tree stump, its number of rings somewhere in the thousands, and skipped through the flowers and to the trees as you sang your song. "See me now, oh ray of light in the moondance," you sang, hitting each note perfectly. It always satisfied you when you could do that.

You grabbed at the pink Tea Fruit hanging low on the branches, taking a bite. It was something like the mix between a pear and a plum, rich flavor with a crispy crunch. The juice dribbled down your chin, staining your shirt, and you smiled as you took a couple more to snack on while you sat.

Making your way to the giant stump and singing your tune the whole way, you plopped down and ate your fruit, listening to the sound of the forest. Birds joined you in song, fluttering down and sitting with you. You gave them the core of your fruit, allowing them to peck at it. A deer pranced in, a deer you knew well. You pressed your forehead to hers, staring into her big, clear eyes. You held a fruit to her mouth, smiling as she gladly took it and settled at your feet.

The next couple hours went like this, enjoying the sun, fresh air, and water. Animals came and went as they pleased. The scent of wild flowers filled your nostrils. All the while you sang your song, and all the while you thought about the outside. You had never gone farther than the little ring of trees, and any time you tried to look much farther, all you could see was mist.

As much as you wanted to explore, it unsettled you. Something primal told you no, told you to stay in your safe little field...and yet something else a little louder told you something was out there for you. Something big. You sighed, looking up towards the sky and shaking your head. You restarted your song for what felt like the billionth time, not even questioning why you wouldn't stop. You just...did. You felt like you were preforming for a waiting crowd.

Treading the water with your feet, you watched that same glittering effect change and shift. Suddenly, the once twittering birds around you fluttered, flying off in groups. You watched in confusion, looking towards the opposite direction of the flock, wondering if you should be scared too. You could hear footsteps, and smell the scent of blood.

Your singing stopped, and you looked even closer. You could just barely see the outline of a man, and despite your better judgment you got up and walked closer. Now you could see him completely, he was a man who was incredibly attractive. He looked like the sun.

His hair was light blonde, glowing even, and his eyes, fuck, those eyes. Sharp and intense ruby red, like he held the manifestation of pure passion in them. His build was strong, each and every muscle chiseled and defined, especially noticeable as he was lacking a shirt. You could see scales trailing up his forearms, an orange-red and nearly translucent. Lastly, a chain of animal tooth, amber, and cat's eye hung on his neck...

You knew what he was. You knew what The Dragonborne did to your people...You should be scared...but, this Dragonborne hasn't done anything, right? And this feeling in your chest, the swelling of emotion like destiny was pulling on your heartstrings, it didn't mean nothing, right?

Katsuki was surprised to see you notice him, and twice as surprised to see you walk towards him. What was he thinking, coming all the way out here? This was crazy. He shouldn't fear you...He didn't fear you! who said that?

"Hey," he barked, stepping closer to you. You didn't back down. "Hey," you said inquisitively, your hands twitching a little as you wanted to reach out and touch him. "W-who are you," he growled, a little bit of steam blowing out of his nose. stuttering? what, was he five? He cursed himself in his head, hating that he of all people would fall nervous in front of a beautiful woman.

"Who are you," you countered, at this point you were just echoing what he was saying. You shook your head, not wanting to be so...annoying. "I-I'm (Y/n)," you blurted out, sticking your hand out for him to shake. he pushed it to the side, getting closer and crossing his arms. "How did you get here? Where are you from," he interrogated, staring you down.

You just stared back, not one to be intimidated, and pursed your lips a little. "uh, I swam, and Gildflå," you chortled, a little attitude in your tone as you gestured vaguely to the creek. He looked where you pointed, glancing back and forth as his scowl deepened. Who the fuck does this chick think she is? He's never heard of any Gildflå, and he knows every country in the world. "You think I'm joking," he scoffed, glaring daggers at you.

"No...I mean, if you are, you're not very funny," you tittered, looking past him now. "And I could ask you the same thing, where are you from, how did you get here?" He rolled his eyes, but answered all the same. "I'm from Forrmidūl, and I walked." He was nothing if not honest. "What's Forrmidūl?" You didn't know? nobody this side of the planet didn't know. "alright, now you're joking." You laughed and shook you head, walking back to the stump and taking a seat. He followed without even thinking, like a lost puppy, and sat next to you. "I wish I was. I'm not really from here," you sighed.

...you really weren't from here. Katsuki knew when people were lying, he could smell it, and he couldn't smell the sweet yet bitter scent of deception on you. He took your appearance, from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes, completely enamored. You wore a ring that had engravings of a language he's never heard before, inlaid with gemstones he's never seen.

"...You're a faerie." He didn't sound shocked, or happy, or devious. He was just making a statement, an observation. You looked away from him, down at your hands, and smiled a little. "aaand you're a Dragonborne," you sighed, glancing back at him. "...What's it like," you ask quietly, brows creasing with confusion, perhaps even desperation. "What's what like," he grumbled, patience as thin as ever.

"Out there," you stated, tilting your head towards where he came from. You were so clueless, he almost felt bad for you. almost. He rolled her eyes, looking down at the water. "Dangerous. 's not a place little faerie girls who don't know shit," he said scornfully.

You laughed a little, looking up at the sky as it began to slowly fade into orange. "Well...What if you made me know shit," you offered, looking over at him with pleading eyes. Now it was his turn to laugh, his eyes meeting yours. "Yeah? What'd I get in return?"

you hummed in thought, bringing your knees to your chest. "I could...heal that," you said with a teasing tone, pointing at his wounds. He was about to just scoff and get up to leave, but something in him told him to accept. He wanted to spend more time with you.

"...You know magic," he asked gruffly. You nodded eagerly, gold flakes coming from the tips of your fingers just to prove it. "I can make potions too," you proposed, wanting any reason to both learn about the outside and keep spending time with him.

He thought for a moment, looking at the water as he did so. People who could do magic so easily were rare, if not impossible to find. "...every day you bring me a potion of my choosing, I'll give you a lesson."

You grinned widely and practically jumped up with joy, immediately giving him a squeezing hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you squealed. He was stunned for a moment, but quickly pushed you off. "yeah yeah, I'm the best, whatever, shut up," he groaned, standing up. "Bring me a healing potion tomorrow, and I'll teach you then."

you nodded happily, that gorgeous smile unwavering. "Will you be shirtless tomorrow too," you teased, your eyes holding mischief. He froze, shocked for a second, before turning scarlet and growling. "You want this or not," he shouted, practically foaming at the mouth.

You just laughed, waving him off as he walked back to the woods and kept his arms crossed over his chest. You were just about to leave too, when you realized something important. "Wait!"

He begrudgingly turned around, shouting, "what," as loud as you were. "What's your name," you asked, a curious look on your face. He paused, pressing his lips together. "...You gonna cast a spell on me or somthin'?"

You chuckled, you never knew such a myth existed here. "No, You're just hot and I figured that'd be important," you called back. He tensed, redness flooding from his face to his neck, before whipping around towards the forest. "It's Katsuki," he grumbled, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You laughed, yelling, "Byeee Katsuki!"

Stupid girl. Doesn't even know how good his name sounded coming from her damn mouth.

Stupid feelings.

Ahhhh it's startingggg! please please please let me know how you feel, is it bad, is it good, are you completely confused, etc. I just love getting feedback, and if you have any questions please direct them to my Ask Me Anything box :)

Taglist: @xxiamabookdragonxx @the-galaxy-fiend

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Glory and gore go hand in hand part 2

Dark Fic!

Mob! Donnie x OC Ava Charles

Warnings: Violence, almost sexual assault, blood mention, fighting/fist fighting, Stockholm syndrome kind of, kidnapping, vomit mention, 

Summary: Loosely based on the film Red Eye. Ava thinks she’s found a way to escape after her failed seduction attempt, but the streets of New York can be more dangerous than she anticipated. 

A/N: Sorry it took me over 2 years to update it to a part 2. Hope it was worth the wait (It isn’t, trust me lol). If I ever get around to doing as part 3 there will be some NFSW stuff coming up, trust and believe. Much love to you all xox

The room was spinning. You took a quick glance at the clock next to the bed and saw “07:43″ before whatever was in your stomach threatened to come back up. Pulling the covers off your body you made a dash for the bathroom and puked up not much of anything. There was a throbbing inside your skull that you didn’t think would go away any time soon- a concussion, you guessed, was the cause of all of this.

Memories came back. Lips on yours, the warmth of a body pressed against you, sudden movement and then everything going dark. It was too much, you had to push that out of your mind. Picking yourself up from your knees in front of the toilet you made your way back to the bedroom. Donnie was waiting in there for you. He looked refreshed. He smelt like cologne and had clearly changed since you last saw him. You, on the other hand, had messy hair, clumps of sleep in your still tired eyes and your mouth tasted like bile. What a sight you must have been.

You climbed back into the bed without acknowledging him, he didn’t deserve it. The spinning had started to slow down and sitting still was the only thing stopping you from spilling your guts again.

“Good morning, sleepy head. I trust you slept well” There was mockery in his voice.

“Oh, like a log. Thanks to you” there was no hiding the resentment in your voice. You still weren’t looking at him but heard something get thrown on the bed. Looking over it was a single packaged croissant and a bottle of Gatorade- the blue one. Ugh. Begrudgingly you drank from the bottle and ate what he gave you. You hadn’t eaten since the afternoon the day before and it showed by the way you wolfed it down. Donatello watched you intently, much to your discomfort.

“Look, about last night...” you began

“You mean you pointing a gun at me and threatening to kill me? Is that what you’re talking about?”

So he wasn’t going to let it go. Shit. 

“Can you blame me?” you blurted out. Goddamn it, this guy really is holding you hostage, planning on killing your father (possibly you as well) and your one attempt to save your family is going to be taken as a personal slight against him? 

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

“No, don’t suppose I can. I can still be angry about it, however.”

��Makes two of us” you muttered. That elicited a smile from him, clearly your self hatred was amusing.

In the morning light you got to have a proper look at the room. It was lovely. Cream walls with sage green accents, a vanity table next to the window and a huge wardrobe and set of drawers. Your head was still spinning and your stomach hadn’t quite settled, still promising to twist and contort to make you puke up what you’d just consumed. His cologne wasn’t helping. The dude smelt like a perfume section at a department store, no, the smell wasn’t intensifying, he’d just gotten closer.

Now sitting on the bed, Donatello placed a hand on your thigh a looked into your eyes. He didn’t speak straight away, as if he was waiting for something from you but you didn’t know what.

"What?” you said rather indignantly “Why are you staring at me?”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a smile, a devilish one at that.

“I think we need to set a few ground rules, to keep everyone happy. First rule, no making a scene. You involve anyone else in what’s going on, your dad dies. Rule number two, no leaving the hotel room. I think this one is pretty self explanatory. And rule number three is: you hold a gun to me again, I do worse than knock you out”

Who are these rules supposed to keep happy? You thought. They only protected him. But, he was looking at you expectantly.

“Sure, whatever” you muttered “Have your rules and then fucking kill me”

“Oh, I plan to. No be a darling and go clean yourself up. I can smell the vomit from here”

Embarrassed, pissed off and still, quite frankly, scared of this man you took yourself to the bathroom and had the longest shower of your life. Any way you didn’t have to be in the same room as him, looking at his smug fucking face.

________________________________________________

The day was much of the same, Donatello mostly took calls and conducted some kind of business online. You didn’t pay much attention, you didn’t really care. In your mind there was a countdown. 6 days. 6 days until his “employer” decided what to do with you and your father. 

By late evening you could hear your stomach growling, you didn’t want to go to the mini fridge in the living room because that’s where he was so you just suffered the hunger pangs and stayed in your room. Occasionally he would come to check on you. Sometimes he’d speak, most of the time he’d simply make sure you were still there. The final time he came in, he spoke again.

“I’m going to get dinner. What do you want?”

“Nothing” you sulked

He rolled his eyes and took a few more steps inside the room “you know you won’t starve to death in 24 hours, right? Might as well just take the free food”

“Fine. Something with Salmon”

At that he left. He left! The second you heard the door to the hall close, you were up and out of bed rushing to the handle but, it was locked. What the fuck kind of hotel locks you in your room? This made no sense. You knelt on the floor, an overwhelming feeling of despair creeping up through your body until it formed into tears. You were never leaving this room. You wondered how he’d do it- kill you, that is. Would it be quick? Painful? Who would find you? Would anyone ever find you? You weren’t sure how long you’d spent on the floor, forehead pressed against the door crying but that’s when you heard footsteps coming back towards the room. Fuck, surely he wasn’t back already? A knock at the door-

“Housekeeping, can I come in?”

Hope! You wiped away your tears and stood.

“Yes, yes come in! I’ve umm, I’ve lost my key. Can you let yourself in?”

The door gently opened and a middle aged, friendly faced woman stood there. Her name tag read “Sandy” and you’d never been happier to see someone in your life.

“Just here to change the sheets and such. Won’t be long, dear”

You grinned at her “Take all the time you need, I was just popping out, actually” with that you practically shoved past her and made your way, as quickly as your condition would allow, down the hall. Donatello would probably take the elevator so you took the stairs, looking over your shoulder at every little noise to make sure no one was behind you.Eventually you made it to the lobby, this would be the hard part. He could be back any second. All you had to do was make it out into the street, couldn’t risk using the lobby phone to call your father. From the door way, you scanned the lobby. Not many people, a queue of 2 lining up to be checked in, the clerk behind the desk and 3 people sat on a sofa in front of the fireplace drinking and talking. No Donatello. You took a deep breath and briskly walked towards the door.

The November air was unforgiving and in the rush of finding a way out you hadn’t brought your coat. You were freezing, had no idea where you were and no money. You didn’t think this through but at least you were out. Free! But apparently freedom meant risking hypothermia. You hustled down the street, unable to take in the beauty of the freshly fallen snow, or the gentle glow of the street lamps as you rushed under them. Maybe there was a coffee shop or somewhere you could ask to use their phone. Do you call the cops or your dad first? If you call your dad, he can call the cops, you supposed, and even if something happened, you’d get to hear his voice one last time. No! You pushed that thought out of your mind. You had to get to a phone.

Some little artisanal coffee shop stood on the corner, you rushed towards it trying to dart around the 3 men who stood in your path, that’s when you felt a hand gripping your arm. You spun around, partially from shock and partially from the hand pulling you towards them. It was the 3 men. They were big and broad and visibly drunk now that you got a closer look.

“sweetheart!” the one gripping your arm slurred out “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here in the cold? No jacket no nothing. Let me warm you up” He pulled you towards him. You tried to free your arm but his grip tightened.

You began to seize up, shivering out of fear as well as the cold. Suddenly the street looked emptier than you remembered, it was late, after all, and the terrible weather would keep most people in. 

“come on, give us a kiss” the second one said leaning towards you. You realised you hadn’t said a single word, it’s a if the fear had frozen your voice box. You put your free hand on the first guy’s chest and used all your strength to push him back, the alcohol made him not so nimble on his feet and he tilted slightly- loosening his grip just enough for you to free your arm and run. But you couldn’t run, not really. Every step you took made the stitches around your abdomen burn and cry out for you to stop. After two blocks, you had to stop running. 

you were ahead of them and they were drunk. There was a dimly lit ally to your left, maybe if you hid behind the dumpster there, they’d give up? It was worth a try.

Crouching, now, in your position behind a dumpster you tried to steady your breathing as much as you could. Footsteps approached and then voices.

“C’mon sweetheart!” One called out “We just wanna get you out the cold! I’ve got something nice and warm for you here” 

You shuddered shuddered at the thought but, before you could take another breath the third one jumped out at you.

“I got ‘er!” he screamed at the others, pulling you up from your crouch by the back of your shirt. 

They all cheered in unison and gathered around you. This was it. You traded one danger for another. They grabbed at you, trying to reach under your shirt, pawing at your body as you twisted and turned to try to escape but their grips on you were firmer this time.

“Not letting you get away again, little darl-”

Suddenly he was on the floor. There was blood on the snow around where his face lay and he was out cold. The other two let go of you and turned to face their aggressor, dropping you to the ground as they did.

You covered your face with your hands, you heard the second guy’s face collided with something hard, the dumpster was your guess. He gave out a pained cry as his skull was bashed into it again and again until you heard his body drop into the snow.

“L-look I don’t want no trouble” the third one said backing away. “It was just a little fun was all” You heard his squeal as whoever it was laid into him. It didn’t take long but he was begging and gasping for air before one final blow silenced him. You didn’t want to look, you couldn’t. Whoever this was surely had to be worse than what you’d faced already today. Your shoulders slumped and hot tears fell down your face as you hoped the cold would take you.

“You ready to go back?” A familiar voice asked you. 

Donatello.

You looked up, his face didn’t seem angry in fact, he looked almost concerned. The shadows that surrounded him made his look taller and bigger than ever. For once you were grateful to see him. He took a few more steps towards you, taking off his winter coat and draping it over your shoulders before reaching down to help you up. You don’t know if it was the cold or the shock or the adrenaline wearing off, but once you were on your feet, you wrapped your arms around his waist and sobbed into his chest. He held you back, learning down to press his face against your head.

“Come one, lets get you back into the warm” he said against your hair.

You nodded.

[mahiiimahiiii]

A/n: Hi folks! This is from my late night writing folder- I wanted an excuse to write nobility durgetash. May I present:

Our Lady Of Debauchery...(and other things)

(Durgetash)| DUrge x Lord Enver Gortash | named durge

Our music choice:

+*+

Tyrants palace, known to the locals as a den of debauchery was filled. Carriages of all colors and sizes flocked to the grand staircase, each holding its precious cargo- nobles.

The tyrants right hand wasn't used to this.

Wynne, child of bhaal sat on a dressing room chair attended too excitable human staff attempting to style her recently washed and un-pressed hair.

As a drow, her hair had two settings- unruly and wildly beautiful curls, or silky and pin straight hair (often times recently pressed with a steel comb). She held back tears as they continued to pull her hair into an updo, lining it with pins and sweeping her bangs into waves. She looked like the ads of women she so envied as a child, whatever that was to a drow. They set curls next to her eyes spinning her around to apply makeup... It would've been simpler to using a transforming scroll at this point

Her study as she liked to call it was colored a deep green, the walls embelised with a golden flower pattern, and dark wood paneling. Instead of a bed it held a shelved nook coated in lavender sheets and pillows. A hearth and a lavish blue rug lay to the other side of the bed with a dark wood desk with matching chair, a large plus armchair sat next to the hearth and sat at her vanity, decorated with bottles of cremes and combs.

The girls whispered about the guests, a young elven magistrate with long silver hair was found out to be a bachelor, he gave lord gortash a run for his money. Orin would be making appearance was well as another famous lord from across ferun, sent an invite for the temptations he would bring. She only had one plan and one target, the next in lead for the flaming fist. The dread fours mole has been chosen, a lord named Ravenguard.

This would be the first step in their plan, it should and it must go well.

The dress fit over her shoulders and was pulled down, corset pulled taught by two other women. This was abnormal, she felt uncomfortable in all the layers. .

She had forgone the heels deciding that a nice pair of embroidered flats should suffice.

She must admit this dress was lovely, and she would be it's first tester. The sage green complemented her soft brown skin and silky silver hair, pink florals decorated the base and hems, a delicate embroidery.

Gortash had chosen this dress for her, as often the lording would prefer for the future lady gortash to be at least fashionably adept.

She would just prefer to wear a button down and loose slacks

She sighed clipping in her singular pearl earring, a heavy teardrop shape, another gift from her lover. She made the final adjustments, dusting rouge onto her nose and oiled charcoal onto her lids, her eyes darkened by the deep colors. The assassin sighed with contempt taking a final look in the mirror. She looked decent enough to perhaps pass as a noble.

Wynne cleaned her hands off, the trail of the dress lagging behind. "Is master gortash ready? Our appearance is within ten to twenty minutes."

"He's been ready ma'am, waiting for you in the parlor for a bit now"

She chuffed, lifting up the train of her gown greatly disturbed by the lack of movement. How she hated this, Enver Gortash will never hear the end of this. He was no lord to her, simply an officer of the law seeking out the greater ideal of grand design, something she sought out for purpose. It was lucky- when she suggested to her long time lover about it. It was even luckier when the szarr family had allowed her to use the Library without incident. Or it could be the blessings her father continually blessed her with as the more successful child.

And now, one little dance, one small appearance, one night of suffering- and then it will be back to pants.

"Enver? Darling? Are you ready?"

She called out.

A confirming hum sounded from down the hall, his eyes lit up when he saw her. their warm and rich depths drinking her in . His hair was slicked back, this was not a good look for him.

"You look gorgeous! My beautiful huntress..." He cupped her chin kissing the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. "You look delicious...ugh, what a shame we have an event to attend." His eyes glittered.

"I hate this." She frowned "I hate your hair that way. I hate heels, I hate dresses, I hate people, I want to go lay under my blanket and have a large glass of wine and dwarf meat pies."

"Come now, don't be a downer. Does your blade not hunger for a cull? You'll be getting a sweet bloody treat later on- I'll let you keep the flesh."

She paused, thoughtful. "I do like flesh....."

"That's the spirit darling. Come now, we should be announced soon." He shook out his hair, no longer slicked back but slightly long and unruly. She liked it that way- as wild as his dark eyes.

From the parlor the manor house changed, dark flooring to beautiful creme tile, matching creme walls and chestnut panneling. Gold, and blue accents and paintings of nymphs and sleepy goats lined the walls.

One portrait was new, a woman with brown skin, deep burgundy eyes with a sad expression, her lips held a solum pout. Her hair was silvery blue, almost ethereal- she wore a simple blue dress and held items of selune.

"My heart- is that portrait new?" she admired the details as they passed. They walked arm in arm one of his hand petting her hand attached.

"It is indeed" he rumbled "I asked for your likeness- is it to your expectations?"

"Do I always look that sad then." She tilted her head, attempting to force a smile. Her lips found it hard to mold around.

He shrugged "I suppose, perhaps that's what the artist saw in your face. Asked them to use the portrait you gave me."

"ha! My father's portrait of me hm? I do look sad in that photo, mainly because I was hungry ."

"Perhaps we shall take more photos. Maybe we will capture your beautiful smile-" he plants a gentle kiss on her lips, his stubble gently scratching against her smooth skin.

They exhaled, contented, and anticipated the rush of noise following their announcement

"Enver, I am never doing this again. "

"I don't expect you too my darling"

The doors opened up and their names were announced

*Lady Wynne, paladin of selune and Lord Gortash of Wyrmere*

She shifted, uncomfortable at the attention. "I would much rather a discreet entrance but if this is the... Tradition. I shall do it."

She waved to the eyes and turned her way a cheesed smile plastered on her face.

"Think of it as any other scenario where I ask you to blend, remember you can be out of the dress after the first dance. Then our goal is to take out the target." He hummed, one hand on her waist. "Now because we are hosting this gala we must sit at the head of the table.

"Ugh just say I'm sick for that- Ill with the plague or some shit."

"Of course my darling." He helped her down the grand staircase, wary of her footing in the dress. She managed to look like she was floating down the stairs, she had an impression to make, this was her first noble circle appearance after all

The hall was loud, filled with a symphony voices each as distinct as a snowflake. Temples and churches sent their representatives, a contented looking, tall teifling escorted you to your seats. Her smile bright and her hands warm. Karlach her name was. One of Gortash's best.

Karlach was it? Beautiful creature she was. Would be a joy to see her innards.

Unfortunately within the realms of polite company such actions or thoughts are shamed.

Wynne smiled and introduced herself to the swarming hive of chatter, hands shook, flesh on flesh. Her ears rang with sound much louder than before: string instruments.

A dance had begun a good sign to keep her eyes peeled. A slight ping from her earring sent her catching Envers eye, he nodded toward the floor, before stopped by a shorter man dressed in a brilliant green frock.

They shook hands and fondly discussed things like old friends. The tyrant waved her over a tired "hold-it-together" smile on his face.

"Here's the lady of the hour!" He hummed taking her hand "lady Wynne, this is ... Lord? Astarion"

"Please - it's just Astarion, Astarion Anuncinn. At you and the lord's service." He paused "I am.. unfamiliar with the custom of meeting drow - is there a specific greeting?"

Her ears wiggled in odd excitement, "while I find it imensly charmed that you would ask, a handshake is fine. Our culture is no different than the norm."

The magistrate paused for a second, his eyes were gentle and thoughtful. "I'm sorry I hadn't meant to offend you" curls framed his face, silvery like spider silk, or a fine Iron. His milky white face bloomed with a faint pink in his cheeks, beautiful streaks of watercolor. How he'd make a pretty corpse.

"I can assure you none was taken. Now, astarion was it? What do you do for work?"

She hadn't expected to become this social. Hadn't expected someone charming such as the magistrate. His voice sung of an un-quenchable desire for something. Knowledge? Hunger? Power? Men and their secrets.

"hm? Me?" His hand was gloved "my lady, we have been hardly introduced- and you're already prying! How naughty." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles delicately. "Charmed. would you like to go somewhere quiet to discuss then?"

"Oh no!" She hummed "I'd like to leave period."

He raised his brow, something sparkling in his eye. "why does a sweet treat like you want to leave? I'm sure you'd be the belle of the ball"

"That's the point- I do not like the attention." His hand covered hers in a comforting way, his hands were cool, a low thrumming pulse emminating from them, though not sure from whom it was.

He hummed slowly, almost quizzical. His long lashes lowered and looking through them, "then why are you here."

She had never expected a question so personal. "I suppose.. it is my duty ultimately, as is every noble. Though I do not consider myself amongst their *ilk*"

He adjusted his ruffle collar "neither do I, I appear for my father often. He's less inclined to show up to parties like this." He paused for a moment "would you like to dance? Or perhaps we can find another quiet area to experience each other's company... Completely."

She hummed rocking back on her heels. "I am unsure how these parties work. Would you be willing to teach me?"

His smile was wide, cupids lip pulled taught and ready to fire. "I would quite like too."

*Don't get too carried away love. Remember to have a job to do*

He held out his hand, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Wynne gingerly set her hand in his.

A string quartet played a slow and alluring rhythm as he spun her about. Careful and mindful of her feet- soft padded heels clicking against the floor

Perhaps this was the last time in her life she would have fun. Perhaps she should savor it.

Who knew.

[antiquitiesandlabyrinths]

Kemeticism Under the Advice of Ptah-Hotep: Maxim 1

In my first post I discussed the importance of listening, and the value of Ptah-Hotep's lessons. While this is a paramount lesson, it is also just a precursor to understanding and comprehending the actual maxims of Ptah-Hotep, which we will now read.

Translation of Maxim 1

Don’t be conceited about your own knowledge. Take advice from the ignorant as well as from the wise, since there is no single person who embodies perfection nor any craftsman who has reached the limits of excellence. The perfect word is as rare as an emerald yet it may be found among the maidservants working at the millstone.

Breakdown:

Lesson

Jacq’s translation

Direct translation

Do not be prideful over your knowledge and it’s sources.

“Don’t be conceited about your own knowledge… take advice from the ignorant as well as from the wise.”

“May your heart not be filled with vanity* because of what you know… take counsel with both the ignorant and the sage.”

There is not one person who can be perfect

“… there is no single person who embodies perfection nor any craftsman who has reached the limits of excellence.”

“No one attains perfection in the art**…”

Good advice (the perfect word) and wisdom is rare yet can be found among the common workers and strange places

“The perfect word is as rare as an emerald yet it may be found among the maidservants working at the millstone.”

“A perfect word is more hidden than the green stone*** yet one can find it with the serving women who work the millstone****.”

* - Vanity here means large, or great of heart. Ptah-Hotep has two variants of this expression which both translate literally as large or great of heart; one in a negative sense, i.e a self-inflated ego or sense of importance, and the other in a positive sense meaning generous and magnanimous. Here he is using the negative term, âa-ib.

** - Art is something which goes beyond the reaches of simply craftsmanship in Egyptian culture. It indicates the ability to make matter beautiful and harmonious in its’ symbology. It allows celestial energy to manifest itself in physical matter; to incarnate itself through a craftsman’s work.

*** - Green stone could refer to either emeralds, turquoises, or amazonites. Either way, the word used here, oudjat, had a root meaning of growth and blossoming.

**** - Millstone here is referred to as a benout in the original Egyptian. The root of the word, ben, can also be translated as the primordial stone on which creation was first manifested. On this first stone the benou bird first took flight.

This maxim, while uncomplicated, does deal with a couple subjects, the most pertinent of which is pride. Pride is the centerpiece of discussion for this lesson, and just the same, pride is a centerpiece of suffering and failure within one’s life. Pride about our knowledge — both individually and as a species — is something very ingrained in our society, but it has not benefited us in any way. In fact, it has closed our minds to the possibility of gaining knowledge from sources we deem inappropriate.

Our minds are shaped by our society and our surrounding culture, and that culture decides where it is appropriate to learn and where it is not. For example, in many cultures, school is an appropriate place to learn; spending time with homeless people or drug addicts is not. However, as Ptah-Hotep says, the perfect word — and thus the perfect wisdom — can be found in very strange places, even among common workers, servants, and slaves. And in fact there are many people who are homeless or are/were drug users who have a great deal of wisdom to give to the world; they are part of the undesirables class, but this does not make them different from other humans as a whole. Even the pride or joy you may have that you are different or more fortunate than these people is misplaced; what one thinks of as guaranteed can be taken away in an instant. The goal of realizing this is not to be constantly vigilant in making sure nothing is taken from you, but to instead accept the natural order, and not to judge others based on preconceived notions about whether or not they are valuable as a person.

In the end, it is not so hard for someone who is very rich and assured of their position in the world to suddenly lose everything and become part of the undesirables class that they once discriminated against. All of us are prone to change, not just in our souls but in our position in life. As Ptah-Hotep says, no one attains perfection in the art, and one person’s ignorance is another person’s realization, as everyone’s experiences in life are different.

There is a sort of equality that Ptah-Hotep preaches here; in the first note, concerning pride about knowledge, there is another translation that instead states this as, “Do not be proud on account of your knowledge, but discuss with the ignorant as with the wise”. Sometimes there is nothing to gain from conversing with the ignorant, but it is good to do it nonetheless. In this way, you can share your own knowledge, as simply keeping company with the wise can help one grow and learn.

Overall, the main lesson to take away from this maxim is to not be prideful about your knowledge and do not be overly selective over where you attain this knowledge. The second lesson is more simple, which is that no one person is perfect, and the ignorance or failing that a wise person has may be knowledge and wisdom that an ignorant person has. Wisdom and knowledge can come from all places, even from nature and from within the soul. It is good to accept wisdom from all people, as someone’s social standing does not indicate the openness of their heart, nor their closeness to divinity and the perfect word and art.

[aldbooks]

A Strange Melody - Chapter 8

@sunshinebingo

Read on AO3

All throughout dinner, the entire table’s attention was fixed on Morrigan as she recounted her visit to the continent. Everyone listened with rapt attention, even Gwyn- despite the gnawing unease that had begun to build since the woman’s arrival. She spoke of people and places that Gwyn had never - and likely would never - see, and she wished to absorb every detail. Even as her jealousy threatened to eat her alive.

She was fully aware of every shift of Azriel’s gaze in Morrigan's direction, every smile he gave her, and  every one she gave him in return. It was clear there was some history between them which everyone else seemed to be aware of, and Gwyn found herself retreating further and further inside herself with every passing moment.

At some point, she felt a steady gaze on her and a soft prodding of her mind, and turned to find Rhysand watching her with a knowing expression. Don’t give up now little syren, it isn’t time to retreat just yet, he said.

Not a syren , she corrected.

The corner of his lips twitched. The point stands. Don’t give up, you still have time. 

You knew he was in love with her, she accused. He said nothing, which was confirmation enough. Why would you let me come here knowing he loved another? 

There was a long silence as Rhysand studied her. Az’s feelings for Mor are- complicated. But you have captured his attention. The game isn’t over yet. 

I have one more day left, at best, and he has already been absent for a significant part of my time here. What could i possibly accomplish in the few hours I have left now that she has returned? 

Again, Rhysand said nothing, but there was sympathy in his eyes as he gave her a small smile before retreating from her mind. No one else seemed to have taken notice of their exchange, still too absorbed in the stories their friend was telling. No one but Rhysand seemed to notice when she quietly slipped away from the room after dinner and returned to her room where she curled up in bed, Azriel’s cloak clutched against her chest.

Thunder and the pounding of rain against her windows greeted Gwyn the next morning. With a sigh full of melancholy, she remained where she was for several long minutes, listening to the storm before dragging herself from bed to stand at the window, staring out at the muted gray skies and angry ocean below. As soon as she saw the water, she felt the pull to return. It made her limbs ache and caused a pulling sensation in her chest. She knew then that despite her bargain with Rhys, the magic was already wearing off. In reality, she had already extended well beyond the 24 hours usually granted for land walking. She would be lucky to make it until nightfall before she was forced to return.

When the twins arrived to prepare her for the day, she did not fight them, allowing them to dress her in a soft, sage green gown and twist her hair into a thick braid. After they left, she sat at the vanity, studying her reflection as she contemplated not going down to breakfast and simply sneaking off while the others were preoccupied. However, despite how things with Azriel had turned out, she had made a friend of Nesta and even Feyre and did not want to leave without some sort of goodbye.

Taking a steadying breath, she stood and moved towards the door. She paused when she found an empty hallway waiting for her, no Azriel in sight- but then, why should she expect him to be waiting for her? Morrigan had returned. He had others to occupy him.

Wrapping her arms around her middle to ward off the slight chill that had invaded the palace thanks to the storm, Gwyn made her way down to breakfast much later than she had the last two days. She stopped short when she found only the women seated around the table. 

Waving her over to the chair beside her, Nesta explained. “You just missed the boys. A report arrived from one of the Illyrian camps that necessitated some discussion. They should be back by luncheon.”

Gwyn took the seat beside Nesta, mechanically filling her plate despite her lack of appetite and listened to the others discuss their plans for the day. The storm outside prohibited any sort of outdoor activity, leaving them little more to do than lounge about the palace which Morrigan lamented, apparently wishing to go shopping. 

“So, Gwyneth,” Morrigan said, turning a curious stare on Gwyn. “How long are you intending to stay with us?”

Gwyn froze. Why did she ask? Was she so eager to be rid of a potential rival for her lover’s affections? She needn’t worry. “Actually,” she said, placing her hands in her lap and giving up any pretense of eating. “I had intended to return home this afternoon.”

“So soon?” Nesta asked, setting down the pastry she’d been nibbling on. 

“I- there are some things I should attend to after being gone so long,” she answered vaguely. Which was not entirely untrue. She had never spent this much time away from her home and she wished to ensure the reef surrounding her little abode was well, especially due to the storm which would occasionally cause ships to run aground, causing damage to the delicate ecosystems.

“You’ve only been here two days,” Nesta protested. “Surely you can manage a few more. Is there not anyone else who can see to your affairs while you’re gone?”

Gwyn smiled sadly. “I’m afraid not.” She had vaguely mentioned to her and Feyre that she lived alone but had not gone into any detail. They both gave her knowing looks in return that spoke of a shared grief. 

Morrigan, who had said nothing so far, watched her with a curious expression. “Do you need a lift home? I could winnow you back to your island and return for you once you’ve seen to your business,” she suggested.

Despite Gwyn’s initial inclination, she found she actually liked the woman, which made it even worse to know she had been the one to steal Azriel’s heart long before she had arrived. Morrigan was kind, intelligent, and in possession of a sharp wit. All of this on top of her unearthly beauty… it was no wonder Azriel had fallen for her. What hope had Gwyn ever had?

“Thank you,” Gwyn replied sincerely. “But my business will take more than a few hours. I would expect to be needed for some time. I rarely leave the- my home. I thank you for your generosity and hospitality while I have been here, though. Truly.” She bowed her head in the queen’s direction.

The look Feyre gave her was full of knowing and Gwyn wondered if her husband had told her of the bargain they had made. If so, she seemed as unwilling to interfere as he had been. There would be no invitation, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she desired one any longer. As nice as it would be to see these women again, she wasn’t sure she could stomach watching Azriel pine for another.

The four of them parted ways after breakfast, each retreating to their own corner of the palace to entertain themselves. Gwyn feigned a desire for more rest and returned to her room. With her goodbyes given, she saw little reason to linger. She had not said goodbye to Azriel, of course, though she doubted he would truly miss her. Still, he had been kind to her and she wanted to leave some kind of thanks. 

Plucking one of the pristine white lilies from the vase in her rooms, She tied the scarf around the stem and left it by Azriel’s door. She had no need for such things beneath the surface as the water would only rot the fabric. But the bracelet and carved star she would take with her and cherish always. 

Stripping out of her borrowed clothes, she laid them carefully out on the bed and wrapped Azriel’s cloak around herself once more as she took one last look around the room and made her way out to the balcony where she and Azriel had left for their flight two days before. As soon as she stepped outside, she was pelted with rain, soaking through her flimsy covering in seconds as she slowly made her way to the edge of the balcony.

Peering over the edge, she again felt the insistent pull of the ocean and closed her eyes against it to bask in one last moment on land. Releasing a sigh, she carefully climbed atop the railing before dropping the cloak behind her and stepping off the ledge into the welcoming abyss below.

[juniper-soo]

[ciswoman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [JUNIPER SOO]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [HAVANA ROSE LIU]. You must be the [TWENTY SIX] year old [POP SINGER]. Word is you’re [DETERMINED] but can also be a bit [IMPULSIVE] and your favorite song is [GODDESS BY LAUFEY]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

@aurorabayaesthetic

Full Name: Juniper Sage Soo Nickname(s): June, Juni, Juju, Juni Sage, Juni Soo, Jujubee, Jellybean (family only) Age: 26 Birthday: February 2nd, 1998 Astrological Sign: Aquarius Place of Birth: Westmorland, California Parents: Esther Soo (45) and Kenneth Hughes (47) (stepfather) Siblings: Clover Soo-Hughes (11) (half-sister) Children: N/A Pets: Binx (1 year old black cat) *Relationships: Rhett Harris - ex boyfriend/ex bandmate, Mack Montgomery - ex bandmate, Eleanor Alcott - ex bandmate, Rina Cicero (NPC) - ex bandmate Scars: One on her finger from years of playing guitar a little too roughly Tattoos: A musical note on the nape of her neck Other Physical Distinctions: Very striking blue-ish green eyes Sexual Orientation & Gender: Questioning ;; Ciswoman Occupation: Pop Singer with Vanity Records *subject to change as roles are taken

bullet points

tw: mention of an age gap relationship, cults, mentions of corporal punishment religious trauma, talks of homophobia, talks of a side character unaliving oneself, mention of a car accident, mention of a heart attack

○ the story of juniper soo's life starts strangely: behind the walls of a commune (later classified as a cult) to a nineteen-year-old runaway and the forty-five-year-old 'head' of said commune. it was there on a cloudy day in february her life would begin and would never cease it's extraordinarily odd path.

○  juniper doesn't talk much about her childhood because she doesn't remember much of it. trauma works in funny ways like that. she remembers her mother being her closest friend, that there were only a limited amount of books and media they were allowed to consume, and that the 'father' (her father) ruled with an iron fist. but again, a lot of it is fuzzy for her.

○ one memory that does stay with her is a childhood crush she had on one of the other girls in her commune's school. they were caught after playing 'house' with one another and an innocent kiss cost them thirty lashes. as she continues to question where her sexuality lies today, this story tends to pop up in her memory from time to time. she knows she is attracted to femme and masc people, but she's only ever been with masc people until recently. it's all still very new to her and the stinging memory of that day doesn't help the confusion.

○ at the age of seven, her mother was able to escape the commune with her thanks to the help of a delivery man who frequented the grounds: kenneth 'kenny' hughes. they snuck out after one of his runs, hiding amongst the boxes in the back of his truck. her mom went to the police to report his crimes, ones she still refused to explain to her young daughter, and the commune was soon investigated.

○ her mom and kenny continued to have a strong friendship over the years as he helped the soo's to settle in aurora bay. friendship turned in to dating and by the time juniper was thirteen, they were married. juniper adores kenny and vice versa. now that she's older and can comprehend more of the horrors he saved her from, she only holds the highest respect for her stepfather.

○ her birth father, lucius ira malone (later revealed to have been born david richard jackson) decided to take himself out before he was able to be prosecuted for his numerous crimes (some juniper still doesn't know the extent of to this day). though she feels anger at the childhood she missed out on, she feels nothing for the man who fathered her. he was never her father. if any one asks, kenny is her real dad.

○ being an isolated child for the first seven years of your life tended to turn you into the weird kid once juniper started public school. however, elementary school students are thankfully more forgiving and she soon found her groove. she even turned in to something of a social butterfly, constantly texting or talking to friends as adolescence hit.

○ ever since she was young, juniper has been singing. it started as a technique from her speech teacher to help quell a stutter she was left with after having delayed speech education growing up. but even as the stutter faded, there was nothing more juniper wanted to do than sing. esther quickly got her daughter into singing lessons and there was no looking back. every moment of her free time seems to be dedicated to her craft.

○ when juniper was fifteen, esther and kenny welcomed a beautiful baby girl named clover into their little family. juniper adores her baby sister, often calling her her baby. clover is her muse, her heart, her soul. she is absolutely the type of big sister who would kill or die for her baby sister.

○ juniper is a witchy girl! she will read your tarot after sage-ing your ex boyfriend out of your apartment and gladly send nothing but bad vibes his way ✌️

○ in her freshman year of college, juniper met a cute drummer and his bandmates. it seemed almost like a strike of pure fate that they crossed paths. they just so happened to be looking for a lead singer and she quickly jumped on the opportunity to audition. to her utter excitement, they were interested in her. the cute drummer (who se did eventually remember he went by harris(she's horrible with names)) seemed interested in more ways than one, much to her delight.

○ soon, her bandmates were her closest friends and harris was her boyfriend. juniper had never felt this way about another person. she swore she could spend every moment of the day talking about music and creating art with him (intermixed with moments of kisses, of course). he was not only the love of her life but her best friend; a true soulmate. harris was the only person she ever told about her past and many nights were spent sharing the hardships of life between them. she swore he was her forever. and with the contract and tour being offered, juniper just knew they would take over the music world together. how wrong she would be.

○  after harris' car accident, juniper started out a dutiful girlfriend: every moment spent by his bedside, making sure he had anything and everything to make his stay more comfortable, and consoling him any time doubt came creeping in. but the time kept ticking by and, much to her utter shock, a new contract soon came her way. a separate, solo contract. one that came with a huge advance. sure, they were interested in her more 'pop' stuff (demos she had made as a little side project from the band that had started out as simply an exercise in genre branching) but how could she say no? her parents would never have to worry about money again with this opportunity (she overheard their discussions after the lights went out), her precious clover could be set for life and chase any dream she had. juniper will never know why she left the way she did (a handwritten note and a picture of them with the words 'always love, always yours' written on the back left on harris' nightside table) and she will always regret not talking to him before she went to LA. but time can't be changed.

○ so, she got everything she wanted, right? her first album rose to a number 1, platinum album in a matter of months. juniper was named in billboard's 27 under 27 as 'a pop sensation for our generation' and 'a new reigning pop princess'. she was able to buy herself and her family houses in a gated community she had driven by hundreds of times and only fantasized about living in. little girls, ones that reminded her so much of clover, wrote to her about how she was such an inspiration and they wanted to be just like her. she was living a dream. but behind the scenes? it's been a struggle as she becomes more and more of a product rather than an artist. every project seems to come from her agent and her record company. every demo she sends in is manipulated and mangled beyond recognition. they say she'll have her 'indie, unplugged moment' soon, but soon never seems to come.

○ about a month ago, kenny suffered a mild heart attack while working around the house. though he has seemed to be able to walk away with only a diet change and some new medication, the doctors warned that it could only get worse with age. juniper had nightmares thinking of her being away if something happened and she couldn't be there physically with her family. so, with some begging and pleading, juniper has moved back full time into her barely used house in aurora bay with the promise of driving in to LA to work and doing a tour every year to year and a half. but now she is walking amongst the shadows of the past. what happens when she meets them face to face again?

wanted connections / plots

platonic

○ childhood friends from aurora bay ○ close friends ○ neighbor ○ ex turned good friend ○ acts like a couple for the media ○ co-workers/other celebrities ○ frenemies ○ her ride or die ○ besties ○ fans/stans

antagonistic

○ people she burned by leaving aurora bay/rhett ○ juniper!haters #junipersoosucksarmy

romantic

○ the femme person/people she is experimenting/had experimented with ○ slow burn ○ tinder date(s) ○ enemies to lovers ○ friends to lovers ○ hookups ○ hookup she won't admit to