#My room is a combination of several things

[fantasylandbitch]

[nerdie-faerie]

Anytime I buy anything pink I think of all the pink girlies who make pink their personality and wonder if just a lil purchase being in their favourite colour brings them a small amount of happiness. Like what a wonderful thing that most be just to feel joy because of something so small that you might not otherwise notice

[silly-mode-cilia]

hi I like yelling silly little life updates into the silly little void so here we go

I'm leaving for my internship thing on Monday (slay) and my last three weeks have consisted of 1. Finals (best semester since i started college thank u curves and nice teachers for boosting me), 2. Socializing, 3. Medical appointments (my eyes have gotten worse but I'm good otherwise) and 4. Prepping for my trip

And. This past week. I have had a cold, of all things, which is not good timing because I'm trying to finalize and get stuff done and was not understanding why I couldn't focus AND I was on my period but now it's a bit better I have entered the "expelling fluids" phase where I feel fine but the symptoms persist. Chilling.

So trip prep has included setting up my new laptop because the other broke during finals week, the keyboard started malfunctioning and the repair date was past when I would leave so new laptop ended up being the only option (which is nice) but I have to manually set up all my bookmarks still because I forgot my Firefox sync password and that will take a couple hours probably (last I went through and organized them it took a whole day)

And then excessive amounts of laundry that are still not done, realizing I lack more than 1 field work outfit and having to go to REI too many times to finish the pack list. Although a closet clean out was done and I'm satisfied with where the personal style development is headed I like my clothes.

But that's done so now I just have to. Pack.

And then my travel request for a conference got approved (!!) When it was expected to take until like, July so now I'm trying to finalize and coordinate stuff earlier than expected! But that is welcome that is good.

And I also got accepted to Job B which doesn't actually pay but is very few hours so I'm doing the tutoring and the mentoring both and hopefully not going insane! Might drip volunteering if I need to which reminds me I need to email them! okay!

[dreamstar-moonlight]

👆👆👆

The himbo, malewife, goofball -fication of percy jackson is such a crime by both the fans and riordan. It has made Mr not like percabeth as a couple because in all posts and in later books annabeth is such a girlboss, while Percy's dumb and can't fight his way out of a paperbag without her. All the posts are about how annabeth will be an architect and percy would love to be a trophy husband.

Even the humor in the books went from Percy's sharp wit and snark to 'my pancakes can't drown because I'm a son of poseidon.'

And now this recommendation letter bullshit.

Honestly now I'd wish percy just separated from annabeth (but they remain best friends.) He stays home with his family, becomes a camp counselor, helps young demigods, holds God's accountable and eventually becomes a social activist. (I also dislike him doing something marine biology related. It's clear he hates academics but he always wants to help people. Him helping demigods and mortals is such a wholesome profession for him.)

I fully agree with the first half of this, though I slightly disagree with part of the latter.

The later-series and fanon mischaracterization of Percy is at least a solid 50% ableism minimum, full stop. He's being warped into a very stereotyped ADHD character and the exact reason why he's being characterized as "dumb" is because of ableism. Percy is a very intelligent character! That's exactly why he's so in sync with Annabeth and they're such a strong duo! It's just generally Annabeth is more book/academically smart.

I disagree with where you say he hates academics - because that's one of the common misconceptions about his character. Percy doesn't hate learning or academic subjects! He's not even bad at them! We know explicitly that when he is in an accommodating environment he is interested in learning and gets significantly better grades! Percy only dislikes school because it is generally an environment that systematically he struggles with. It's literally just he has a learning disability (two, actually)! That's it! When his learning disability is accommodated for he does well! It's almost like that's what accommodations are all about! We know this from the first series! It's discussed pretty in-depth! Percy isn't a dumb character and he doesn't hate learning, he's just been let down by school systems so much that he's inherently distrustful of them. If they actually accommodate him though then he does just fine!

And that's exactly what CHB was all about and why New Rome University was supposed to be such a big thing for him! CHB is a learning environment geared for demigods. NRU is a demigod college. Both inherently imply an environment meant to cater to and accommodate students with ADHD and dyslexia! They are both systematically structured to be able to accommodate him! Heck, CHB and CJ even both address in the wider themes of the series a metaphor about how ADHD and dyslexia are commonly seen as childhood disabilities, and how it can be more difficult to find accommodations into adulthood because of that attitude but those disabilities don't just go away - that's why CHB is a summer camp but they talk about how demigods outside of CHB don't often fare well. The metaphor there is those who are not getting help or accommodations are struggling. Because that's how that works! This is a fully intentional metaphor from the first series! CHB is never framed as being perfect for demigods, because one of the entire central conflicts of the series is Percy and Luke going back and forth about this flawed system meant to help and support them but still letting people fall through the cracks. The "claim your kids by 13" thing is a metaphor about how acknowledging a child's disabilities (and possibly getting a diagnosis) earlier/as early as possible means they will have more time to learn and build up resources and support for themselves to be able to use later in life. One of CHB's major flaws is that it can accommodate demigods to a certain point, but it can only do so much before those demigods have to leave (the metaphor being accommodating school systems when those disabled students do not have any other forms of accommodations in their lives.)

And that's why Camp Jupiter was framed as being so revolutionary for Percy because it had an environment acknowledging that this is not just a childhood disability, adults with ADHD/dyslexia exist too and still need and deserve accommodations, AND is a place where those accommodations are available. That's why Camp Jupiter and NRU are treated as such special and important things to Percy, because it's essentially Percy being shown this type of thing can and does exist and it is available to him. It is an option he never thought was possible. Percy never thought he'd be able to go to college because he would not be able to go through school without accommodations, but NRU proves otherwise.

The part that's absolutely stupid is Rick then proceeded to retcon NRU so that apparently it's not a full college and Percy still has to take classes at normal mortal college which DEFEATS THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF NRU EXISTING. Rick has fully retconned that demigods struggle past the ages of 16-18 when they're on their own (see above elaborated metaphors) and in doing so we have fully killed all symbolism in literally all of that. It's so stupid. And by having the plot of the CoTG trilogy entirely be that Percy is not actually allowed access to NRU in the first place because he is a son of Poseidon and has to do extra to even be accepted is stupid!

All that to say, I agree the marine biology feels like a huge cop-out and a disservice to his character by reducing him to just a son of Poseidon. The literal only reason why it's the default option people take for him is because oh, fish thing, fish guy. But I feel like everyone ignores the really obvious answer for what Percy would want to do which is - writing. Both his parents are writers/authors and he clearly admires that about them. Percy likes telling stories! He canonically is already a published author in-universe! That's what the books ARE in-universe! The first series fully exists in their universe and Percy is the author! This is explicit canonical information! Percy canonically has help physically writing it down (accommodations) but he is still the credited author! Percy is a writer! Already! Canonically! Why are we making him a marine biologist he already has a profession that ties into his character significantly more. Like you said, Percy likes helping people. That's what the books in-universe are supposed to be for! It's point blank at the beginning of the series! Book one! The thing everybody quotes all the time! The books exist because it is Percy trying to give advice to other demigods who don't know what's going on yet! It's Percy's writing down his experiences to help new demigods understand and contextualize their experiences so they can understand themselves better and figure out what's going on - WHICH IN ITSELF IS ALSO A METAPHOR ABOUT ADHD/DYSLEXIA! Because the core of the series has and always will be built around ADHD/dyslexia! Percy as a protagonist EXPLICITLY was created so that ADHD/dyslexic kids could see themselves as a hero!

Sorry that all was a very tangential rant but my point being: Absolutely. Percy in newer stuff in the franchise and in fanon is horrifically mischaracterized in ways that are functionally either fully ableist (shoutout TSATS for just outright claiming Percy is intentionally lazy and skips school out of disinterest, which is like the number one ableist attitude towards kids with learning disabilities) or a complete erasure of Percy's disabilities. Also I think he should be a writing major not a marine biologist.

[zephyrchama]

“Don’t,” you warned Lucifer. You saw that self-assured grin on his face. You knew what he was planning.

“What? I just came to see what you were doing.” He leaned on your shoulder with enough weight to tilt you several inches sideways, no matter how much you pushed back. “Don’t mind me, carry on.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you retorted, but it was too late. The others were catching on.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Mammon came over and pushed against your other shoulder, tilting you back upright. “What are two of my favorite people doin’?”

You tried to shrug them both off, to no avail. “We’re not doing anything. We can stop this.”

You couldn’t stop it. Asmodeus was on his way and wasted no time crossing his arms over your back, happily leaning into you from behind. You tilted forward. “Hey! What’s happening here?”

You sighed, “we’re not doing this again.”

Asmodeus teased you with honeyed innocence, “doing what, hon? Something on your mind?”

These three demons thought they were so funny.

A passing Satan made eye contact with you. In that exact moment, you used every bit of imaginary telepathy you could muster. Surely Satan would understand. He could save you. He could free you before it really was too late.

He observed what his brothers were doing, nodded, and approached with a congenial grin. Mission failed.

“Traitor!” You regretted ever agreeing to join this exchange program as Satan slowly fell back into you. You didn’t even try to catch him, you were too busy trying to remain upright under the combined weight of four demons. They were hardly even holding back.

You couldn’t see who was running up, being too busy blowing Satan’s blonde hair out of your face, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were all coming for you.

“Let me in on this!” Leviathan said cheerily.

“Yeah!” “Come on!” Asmodeus and Mammon gladly made some room for Leviathan, which was difficult because you were sinking lower and lower, and you felt another weight pile onto your back as Levi cozied up to your torso. This scenario had played out enough times now that the brothers could somehow keep you from falling over like a Jenga tower, but it was still only a matter of time.

Belphegor squeezed his way in between Satan and Lucifer and wordlessly collapsed onto you as if overcome with narcolepsy. He sure looked cozy. He smirked while you lamented, “I’m never forgiving any of you, ever.”

“Beel? Are you coming?” Lucifer summoned the cherry on top of this ridiculous parfait. You braced as Beelzebub licked the crumbs off his fingers in preparation. He knew what had to be done.

“Are you ready?” At least he had the decency to ask, unlike six other degenerates. The six lumps of dead weight each grabbed a part of your body, shifting from leans to awkward hugs. There was no way to run.

With an exaggerated “hah!”, Beelzebub’s weight and outstretched arms were enough to send everyone crashing down. You were protected from any real damage by the shell of demon brothers, but they soon had you pinned down against someone’s chest in the world’s most embarrassing cuddle pile.

“Aren’t you guys too old for this?” you asked. “By like, ten thousand years?”

“We were just checking up on you,” Lucifer said.

“Yeah, how did this happen? Hmm..!” Asmodeus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Satan draped his leg over yours and not-so-accidentally kicked Lucifer. “You should have told us what you were doing.”

“I think it’s fun.” Belphegor was the only one to admit the truth.

Hands were running through your hair and over your stomach. Somebody was pushing the edge of your mouth up into a smile with their finger. If these guy were so touch-starved, they could have just said so, like sane people.

“My! What do we have here?”

You groaned, partially because everybody was really heavy and partially because you really didn’t need Diavolo to arrive just then.

“My lord, it appears we have walked in on something quite interesting.” Et tu, Barbatos?

”Indeed! Is there room for two more?”

Your “no!” was drowned out by seven resounding yeses.

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed

Seulgi x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K

The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.

"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."

You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."

"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."

"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.

Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.

"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"

Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."

The blood drains from your face as realization hits.

Fuck.

Those folders.

The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...

"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.

"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."

"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"

"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."

Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.

"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."

"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"

"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"

Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.

"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."

Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?

"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."

You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."

"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."

Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.

"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"

Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.

"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."

Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."

Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."

The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."

"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"

You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.

"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."

That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.

You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.

"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."

You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.

Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.

"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.

Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."

You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.

"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.

"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."

You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."

You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.

"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."

You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.

Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."

You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."

"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."

You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.

"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."

"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."

But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."

You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.

"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."

You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.

"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."

"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."

You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.

"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."

Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.

"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."

You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."

"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."

You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.

"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."

She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.

"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."

You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."

Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.

Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.

After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."

She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."

Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."

You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.

"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.

"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."

You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.

"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."

You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.

"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."

Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.

"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.

"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."

You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."

"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."

You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.

Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."

You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.

"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.

"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"

"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."

The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.

You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."

You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.

"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."

She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.

"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."

"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"

Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"

You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."

"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."

"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"

"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."

Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.

"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."

"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.

"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.

"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."

Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."

You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.

"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."

"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.

"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"

"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."

Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."

"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."

The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.

"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."

"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."

You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.

"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."

"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."

A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.

"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."

You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.

"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.

"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."

"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”

Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”

“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”

She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”

“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”

“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”

“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”

You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?

The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...

The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.

"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."

She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"

"Want to come find out for yourself?"

"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."

You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."

Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.

"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.

You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.

"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.

Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.

"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"

"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."

You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.

"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."

You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.

"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.

"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”

She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.

You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.

"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.

You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.

"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.

You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.

Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.

You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.

"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.

You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.

"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”

She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.

You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.

"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.

"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."

Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.

She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.

You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.

"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."

You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.

"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.

You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.

"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."

She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.

"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.

When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.

"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."

Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.

You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."

"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"

You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."

Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.

"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"

You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.

The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.

"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"

Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”

You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."

Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."

Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.

"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."

She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."

You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."

"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.

"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.

"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"

You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.

When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.

She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.

"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."

She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.

"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."

"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."

The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.

"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."

You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.

"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."

"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.

—

After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.

"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.

She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."

"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."

"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."

Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.

Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"

You grin, pushing your plate aside.

"Who’s pretending?”

[delusional-day-dreamer]

U My Everything - p.b

‣ paige x grumpy reader: part two here!

‣ wc: 3178

‣‣ synopsis: paige's harmless joke is taken a little too personally by her sensitive and grumpy girlfriend; slight angst? but very fluffy by the end! (the song is most relevant for the end part of the fic as it's inspired by KK's 05/31/24 live, can u tell I live for uconn lives?)

‣‣‣ a/n: I'M SORRY, i know y'all chose emily in the poll but I alr finished this one and I've promised myself I would try to release at least one fic a day; emily's will be out very very soon, writing smut for the first time is just very nerve wracking lmao. this is lightly based off the, good morning gorgeous, tiktok trend going around rn; Also, I'm so sorry for the amount of times I use y'all, like, literally, and really because I try to make my dialogue and what not as realistic as possible, but as a Southern Californian they're literally engraved into my vocabulary 😭😭.

Rolling over in bed half-conscious, your arms reach out, patting around the bed in an attempt to locate your girlfriend's warmth without having to open your eyes. However, to your sheer disappointment, your fingers are met with cold, rumpled sheets on Paige's side of the bed.

Now fully conscious with confusion as to how your girlfriend managed to slip from bed without you realizing, the pounding in your head became all the more severe as you sat up in bed, frustrated that the one person who could comfort you simply with their presence was nowhere to be found.

With your right hand massaging the temple, attempting to soothe the deep ache that had settled into the front portion of your head, your left hand blindly felt around your nightstand for your phone, knowing Paige wouldn't have left you alone in bed without so much as a simple text message. But to your surprise, her name was absent from your list of notifications.

Even more annoyed than before, you forced yourself out of her bed, stumbling your way to her adjacent bathroom, wincing at the sudden intrusion that was fluorescent lighting. By the time you began brushing your teeth, you heard the front door open, hearing Paige call your name as she entered the dorm.

"Bathroom," you yelled out to her, despite your head screaming at you to shut up and crawl back under the safety of Paige's comforter.

"Hey baby," Paige greeted as she entered the bathroom while you spit toothpaste into the sink, coming up behind you to hug your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. As you stood back up to meet her gaze in the mirror's reflection, you saw her tuck her bottom lip into her mouth, clearly trying to hide her shit-eating grin.

"Well don't you look... interesting this morning," she teased, the sarcasm apparent in her low voice. You knew her mocking was all in good fun, the two of you often poking fun at each other for little things. But perhaps it was the headache still waging war in your skull, or the final three midterms you had to take later today, or your remanent annoyance at having to wake up alone, despite her knowing your favorite part of the day was waking up, warm and all loved up in her arms, or perhaps it was the fact that looking in the mirror, you genuinely looked wrecked this morning.

Your curly hair was reduced to nothing but a puff of frizz overnight, sticking out in all directions, your eyebags particularly prominent this morning, combined with the pesky anxiety breakout that had settled into your forehead a few days prior, you just couldn't handle her jokes today.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out Paige," you shot back, setting your toothbrush back in its cup holder, exiting her hold to wipe your hands on the small towel before pushing past her to get dressed in her room.

Paige followed close behind you, curious as to why you were giving her so much attitude so early in the day, especially over such a harmless statement.

"What's up with you, this is the first time I've even seen you this morning," She questioned from her seat on the unmade bed as you began changing your clothes with your back facing her, which was another thing that struck out to her as odd. After dating for over a year now, the two of you were incredibly comfortable with each other, and it was rare for you to completely turn your back on her, even when changing.

"Nothing, I'm just not in the mood today," you grumbled, tugging your, her, sweatshirt over your head. Heading over to her floor length mirror with your makeup bag and necessary hair products in hand, you settle down on the floor in front of it, convinced to improve your appearance a bit before you head off to your exams today. Still ignoring Paige's presence in the room, you began getting ready.

Hearing her scoff as you started applying your makeup, she got up and began making the bed, intent on ignoring your bratty mood until you fixed it. You knew you were being petty and acting bitchy to your girlfriend, who had technically done nothing wrong, you just couldn't force yourself to drop the attitude. By the time you finished your makeup and smoothed out your slickback, you managed to go the entire twenty minutes without so much as looking at your girlfriend through the mirror, who had now perched herself on her side of the bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

Your headache hadn't subsided yet, but now that you were more awake, you had gotten used to the throbbing sensation. Making your way over to your side of her bed, you collected your phone, headphones, watch, school bag, and other items from your nightstand and around the area to get ready to leave.

"Your heading out already? You still have over an hour before your first class," Paige finally addressed you, putting her phone in her lap to look at you as you packed your things.

"Yeah I'm gonna head to the library early so I can review before my first midterm," You answered, speaking to her normally for the first time in the last hour she had returned.

"But what about breakfast, you're not gonna be able to concentrate and stuff when you're all hangry," she said, only slightly teasing you with her statement.

"I'll just grab something to eat from the coffee shop next to the library, I was gonna stop by and get matcha from there anyways," you responded, a small part inside of you glad that despite your attitude, Paige made sure that you were well taken care of.

"Dude I still don't understand how you drink that stuff, tastes like straight grass," she had dropped her concern and switched back to joking, her automatic setting. "But I guess it's fitting," she continued, "cause yk, cows just love their grass," she sighed, holding back her laughter at what she thought was a brilliant joke.

In her defense, if it was any other morning, you would've joined in on her teasing, either mooing at her in response or poking fun at her in return.

But today, it just ticked you off even further. I mean, you were clearly already in a bad mood, stressed the fuck out, hangry (but Paige didn't need to know she was right), and the sharp pressure in your head was only getting worse. Plus, Paige had already easily finished off her midterm exams two days prior, which meant she didn't truly understand why you were so worked up over your exams. And the worst part, your bloating and exhaustion really did make you feel a little bit like a cow.

“P I'm just not in the mood to deal with you right now," you sighed, exasperation laced in your tone. "I already feel bad enough this morning, I can't handle you piling more onto my plate, I'll see you later," you barely even said goodbye to her properly as you gathered your stuff, put on your shoes, and left her dorm.

The second you closed her door behind you, you could feel the pit forming in your stomach, full of regret and shame. You knew it was unfair to be so rude to Paige when she was just trying to lighten your mood, but your anxiety always caused you to last out at anyone who tried to help you. You made a mental note while walking to your favorite coffee shop to apologize and make it up to her when you saw her in the evening, after the stress from midterm week had diffused and your raging headache calmed down.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You were flipping through your study notes and flashcards while listening to one of Paige's playlist on the lowest volume possible when you saw your phone screen light up from next to you. Deciding it would be good to take a quick thirty second break, you reach for your phone and matcha latte at the same time, clicking on the text message you received from Paige.

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

From P 💜:

I'm so sorry for making fun of you this morning baby, I know you're stressed about your tests today and I had no intentions of making you feel worse with my jokes, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit because I know how bad your anxiety can get. Good luck on your test today killer, i love you 🤍.

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

Shit, now you really felt bad for snapping at her earlier today. All remnants of your misplaced anger had long since disappeared, now replaced with embarrassment. She was right, your anxiety was hitting you hard today, but that was no excuse for bitching out your girlfriend just for trying to improve your mood. You quickly hearted her message and began typing out a short response, as you knew you needed to apologize in-person for your behaviour.

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

To P 💜:

Thank you so much P, I'll see you later tonight baby. I love you too 🤍

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

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally reached the floor of Paige's dorm room, exhausted from your long and mentally tiring day of midterms, but you were finally done, your headache was finally gone, and you now had the weekend to relax and spend time with your girlfriend.

As you reached for your keys in your pocket, you heard the loud commotion of voices that you recognized to be KK, Aubrey, Sarah, Allie, and Paige in the living room. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be over, as the team always spent hung out together outside of practice, and since you started spending more time at Paige's dorm, you had quickly stocked her near bare kitchen full of snacks, baked goods, and home-cooked meals the girls loved to steal.

You entered the living room greeting everyone as you took off your shoes, making a beeline straight to where Paige was sitting on the couch. You stood in between the space of her legs, wrapping your free arm around her shoulders to lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey P," you spoke softly, looking down at the small smile that had settled on her face.

"Hey yourself, how were you midterms? Today was your last day right?" She questioned as her fingertips began running up and down the back of your legging covered thigh.

"They were fine, I think I did good on majority of them. My math midterm was a little shaky, but not too bad yk?" You answered her quietly, afraid to pop the little bubble of peace you two had created around yourselves among the chaos of the living room's occupants.

"I," you began, as your hand had made its way to the front of her face as you pushed back a small piece of hair that had escaped out of her bun. "Will you come in the room with me real quick?" You asked her, practically whispering at this point.

"Yeah of course baby," she answered quickly, letting her hand travel up your body to rest at the small of your back as she stood up, leading you past everyone to her bedroom.

"We'll be right back," she announced to the group as the two of walked by. "Oooo, Paige is in trouble," KK sang out as the two of you reached her closed room door, Paige still standing behind you. She turned the knob quickly, gently pushing you into the room first as she turned around to stick her tongue out at KK before she closed the door.

By the time she turned around from the door to face you, she barely had a moment to adjust to your body barreling into her, as you had already dropped your bag off next to her desk. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, being able to sense that you just needed to be held for a minute before speaking.

She lightly rubbed your back and shoulders with her hands, knowing exactly what it was that immediately calmed you down. You stayed silent in her comforting embrace for a few more minutes, having craved her touch all day when you were around campus.

"I'm sorry," you finally spoke up, unburying your head from her chest to look her in the eyes. "I was really rude to you for no reason this morning. My headache when I woke up and all the stress I had was completely unrelated to you, but I still ended up taking it out on you," you sighed before continuing, "I really appreciate the fact that you were trying to cheer me up this morning, even though I was being a total bitch. And you are never a burden or someone who adds more onto my plate, I love you and I'm so sorry I said that to you, I would never want you to feel that way and-" as your eyes began to well up with tears, the last of your apology was cut off by Paige.

"Hey hey it's okay baby," she pulled you slightly away from her as the tears began flowing from your eyes. "I know you," she maintained eye contact as she reassured you, "And I know you would never act like that normally, you are not a bitch. You were just stressed out and not feeling well. I understand, and I promise I'm not mad at you at all," her right hand moved up from your back to your face, wiping the tears streaming down your face.

"Thank you P, I have no idea what I would do without you," you sniffled lightly, your hand coming up to wipe your face as well. "I love you so much, you have no idea," you professed.

"I love you too y/n/n," she whispered as her hands wrapping around your waist as she pulled you into her, leaning down slightly to kiss you. Your hands flew up the moment your lips connected, one cradling her jaw while the other rested on the base of her neck. The kiss was slow and languid, an apology met with forgiveness as your lips moved together.

The loud rumbling of your stomach, interrupted your sweet moment with Paige, forcing the two of you to separate as a giggle slipped out of her.

"Didn't realize a small kiss made you that hungry for me," she smiled, now at peace knowing that you were no longer upset. "Shut up," you smiled back, lightly hitting her chest as you broke away from her. "I am for real hungry though, but I need to shower first," you told her as you moved around the room, grabbing your towel and a fresh pair of pajamas to change into.

"I'm pretty sure Aubrey is ordering Domino's so I'll tell her to add in something for you, and it'll probably be here by the time you get out," she kissed your cheek as you went to exit the room, heading for a quick shower as she remained in her room.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

As you entered the living room, curls freshly washed, a soft pair of Paige's sweatpants resting low on your hips, and a small off the shoulder sweatshirt over your sleep tank top, you witness KK showing her tik tok live her "hips dance", if it could even be referred to as that.

"Oh wow," Paige commented dryly at the sight while getting up from the couch so she could grab her laptop from the kitchen counter. You moved past her to Aubrey's desk, grabbing a piece of garlic knots from the Domino's box she left partially open (i don't think she actually bought any but I'm craving them so i added it in here). You rested your hip against the table, waving at the live while KK queued up Sexyy Red on her Siri.

Everyone knew you and Paige were a couple, when Paige accidentally hard-launched you by posting a cute couples pic on her main instagram story instead of her close friends. But since then, the two of you kept a private but not secret relationship, very occasionally posting together, but fans often saw candids of the two of you on dates or together in the team's lives or other events.

You licked the remaining cheese and butter off your fingers as you watched Paige, KK, and Aubrey dance in front of the camera to "U My Everything", smiling at their so-called dance moves, especially Paige's.

"Man we go together tell them hoes we go together," Paige sang, before doing her little "attitude now walk" move, making you double over with laughter at her with the other two girls.

You scratched the back of your neck as you continued to watch the girls mess around, too tired from your day to join them, but content just from watching them. As the second chorus approached, Paige walked up to your leaned figure on the desk, grabbing your bare waist and pulling you into her as she sang.

"Bae, I love you, you my everything, I'm your main bitch, fuck a wedding ring," you laughed at her awful singing, but you couldn't deny the blush that rose to your cheeks at the thought of her singing you the lyrics while very clearly in the live's frame. "We both in fast cars and we switchin' lanes, when I'm away from you, you always on my brain," she continued, adding in her sassy facial expressions with the corresponding lyrics.

You couldn't help but laugh at her actions, the pure giddiness coursing through your veins was a complete 180 from your mood this morning, and you couldn't help but think there was nowhere that would make you happier than in her arms.

Thank you for reading all the way through! The recent support has been crazy and I appreciate all of you! Should I make a part two to this with smut so r can properly apologize to p.... 😏😏😏

[arpicityandneed]

My Turn

18+ f!reader. best friends steve and bucky. dirty talk. bisexual steve. bisexual bucky.

~

"Tell me again where you want it baby." Your new husband had you in his lap thumbing your clit while you rode him. Your thighs were shaking but you were desperate, tears of frustration on your pretty lashes as you balanced yourself with both hands on his shoulders.

"Inside, Stevie, please?" His hands were roaming over your body possessively, gripping the fat of your ass and thrusting his soaked cock up into you with every down stroke of yours.

"Don't make the sweet thing cry Stevie." Bucky groans as he palms himself through his slacks, waiting his turn for once in honor of your wedding night. Usually he and Steve would've flipped a coin or fought for who got to bully their way inside your pussy first.

"I'm not gonna Buck, she's just so pretty when she begs. My wife." Steve's baby blues were dancing with mischief as Bucky cursed.

"You met her first by accident, Rogers. I'm older-" Bucky started growling the same damn argument they'd been having since they decided they wanted a baby and therefore a wedding. (They were too old fashioned for anything else.)

"Boys, can we argue later?" You cut in breathlessly, and Steves arm wrapped around your waist. Your only warning before he took over- fucking you up and down his shaft like a rag doll as he groaned,

"Alright baby. I gotta do right by my Mrs don't I?" With the smuggest grin you'd ever seen his balls twitched, and spurt after spurt of cum filled you fluttering walls.

"Goddamnit, Stevie." You would've comforted your other boyfriend if you could focus. But Steve's thumb was rubbing your clit as you seized up, coming hard and milking his cock for all he had to give.

You collapsed against his chest.

"You gonna be good for Bucky baby? You got one more in you?" Steve murmured gently as he rocked you on his softening shaft, his cum leaking out of you and drenching his balls in your combined juices.

"Mhm. Want him inside too." You smiled as you kissed him, soft and sweet like you had several hours earlier in front of all your friends and family.

"My turn." You hadn't heard him move but you weren't surprised when you were lifted and bent over the massive bed, Bucky was hardly a patient man once he had the green light.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're dripping." Bucky's voice was hoarse. But Steve, who was laying down close enough for you to tongue at his soft cock, just snorted.

"Don't complain like you don't love it, jerk." Steve guided his shaft into your mouth and murmured softly, "Clean me up baby."

"'M not complaining punk, it's a compliment." You moaned around Steve as Bucky took one good lick of your stuffed pussy before straightening and dragging his cock head through the mess. "Your cum tastes better inside her by the way."

"Shut up, you love my cum anyway you can get it, Barnes."

"Maybe." One smooth thrust and you were full once more, and Bucky goes from teasing his boyfriend to cursing how good you feel. "I gotta say doll. You're kind of a slut."

"B-Bucky!" Your scolding would be more effective if your pussy didn't clench around him from his words and the memories flooding you brain of watching Bucky swallow down Steves cock.

"Greedy fucking pussy-" His moans were loud, shameless. "Back me up here Stevie."

"He's not wrong sweetie. Youre an absolute slut for us. But just us, yeah?" Steve sounds proud. Proud that on his wedding night his wife is being tag teamed by him and his best friend.

Fuck.

You were going to cum, hard and Bucky- the smug bastard- wasn't going to let it happen quietly.

"Someone likes being reminded how needy her pussy is. Clenching down so hard on me doll." Bucky fucked different than Steve. Harder, filthier. His hands were dragging you back onto his fat cock until the audible slap of his hips against your ass echoed around the room. He was getting close you could tell. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit, aching to add to the cum already slicking him inside you. "Should've waited till after the honeymoon to let me fuck her Steve."

His hand snaked around to find your clit and with quick tight circles over your swollen nub you came apart with a cry.

"Yeah, Buck? And why's that.." Steves eyes were narrowed like he was annoyed at being told what to do, but you knew the truth. His cock was growing hard in your mouth again. Bucky thrusted hard inside you before he started to unload, grinding into you as if to make sure his seed took first.

"Cause now we're never gonna know who knocked her up first till the baby's born."

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Fantasy 3

Kill or Be Killed

Label Mature 18+

Summary

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen is being eyed by the Emperor to replace the current Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. After proving his worth in the gladiatorial arena it shows the Baron just how much the people of Giedi Prime adore Feyd Rautha.

The Baron knows his time is coming to an end when the Emperors right hand Count Fenring comes to observe Feyd in action.

The only thing the Baron feels will cripple Feyds greatness, is you his defiant new Baroness. You soften Feyds resolve and lower his brutality one kind word and gesture at a time. You encourage his free will as a natural born leader against his tyrannical uncle.

When the Baron takes drastic measure and separates Feyd from his beloved Baroness he sealed his fate. The Baron assumed the infatuation would end with time apart and an unending supply of pleasure slaves. He miscalculated poorly and now Feyd is coming to collect his Baroness and exact revenge on his tormenting uncle.

Starts blood /fights/ politics Ends hot dark romance smut 🫠

⚠️Hard Core Smut⚠️

Public edging• fingering under a table•coercion• light fem dom •restraint kink•cock rings•size kink•Feyd in heat•Sub Feyd•pain kink•nipple clamps •sexual stimulant• oral sex on Feyd•oral from Feyd• Feyd masturbating• Feyd ejaculate•semi public sex in a pool• rough sex •spankings•orgasms •creampies

🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia

⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️

Part 1•Part 2•Part 3•Part 4•Part 5•Part 6•Part 7

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies⌛️ Based on events from Dune part 2 film+ novel:Feyd story line change 💝Not for my softies 🆕 Skip to Cat Daddy ➡️

I thought this would be done in 48 hrs… until I started writing the first fight scene of my life 🥴 I’m also so appreciative I’m entertaining you 👌🏼😭 im working my a** off love you guys.

⚔️ Multiple requests combined ⚔️ -Semi public fingering -Feyd Immediate need for gratification in public. -Feyd in heat -Even more graphic s*x… -Feyd very rough but reader needs it. -Sub Feyd (restrained and dominated). -Feyd kneeling to earn s*x. -Feyd pxssy drunk for the baroness -Sex in a ‘Dune style’ pool? -Feyd obsessed with Baroness to his own detriment. -Feyd giving an unhealthy amount of spankings *blushing from these ☺️ thank you for the requests

Kill or Be Killed

It is the morning of the Gladiatorial Fights on Geidi Prime. The war like sound of horns and drums resound the capitol. Every pillar and building is hung with banners reading: ‘The 100th Kill of Na Baron Feyd Rautha on the Celebration of his Nativity’. It has been made into a global holiday, the people of the planet flock to the event.

The triangular arena is so large it can be seen from space. The black stadium is in the center of the capital of Giedi Prime. It is an architectural marvel thirty stories high. The hundreds of thousands cheering in the audience can be heard for miles.

All the great houses are in attendance. Dozens of high end viewing rooms and balconies are filled with several hundred interplanetary leaders and dignitaries. The rest of the stadium is filled to the brim with the populous of Geidi Prime.

All in attendance pay homage to the birthday of the Barons nephew Na Baron Feyd Rautha. After the fall of House Atreides the Harkonnens have become the most powerful family dynasty. They amass the most wealth and the farthest reaching army in the galaxy. The other houses bow to their will.

The Barons viewing room is the highest and most luxurious in the arena. It is a twenty story tower that connects to the stadium floor. There is a an elevation room to quickly ascend and descend him for the momentous occasion.

The Barons is beaming on this day as he speaks to dignitary’s just outside of his luxury viewing section. He is seated in his hover chair not needing to move a muscle, just sit back and bask in the glory his nephews display of power this day.

He is interrupted by his Lord in Waiting who informs him two important guests wish to join him in his viewing section. When the Baron sees it is the Emperors right hand man he lets out a deep laugh “What a special occasion this must be” the Baron says as Count Fenring and his wife Lady Margot approach.

They are visiting observers from the Imperial Court. “Welcome my Count and Lady it is a pleasure to see you” The Baron says acting surprised, yet he has been expecting them all along. Count and Lady Fenring bow with polite smiles. Though they have more serious matters to discuss.

They are seated in the luxury sky box above the triangular arena. Horns blaring below, they are tiers above the other sections. Some in the lower tiers are looking up waving chanting for the Baron. He waves answering the call and they cheers.

"My dear Baron" the Count says leaning to the Barons ear “I wish to discuss the reason why I am here today. The Emperor wishes me to report on whether you’ve chosen a worthy successor. There’s nothing like the arena to expose the persons true valor beneath, eh?" He elbows the Baron taunting him.He knows about his habit of drugging Feyds opponents.

The Baron is wise to his game. He has given his nephew a worthy opponent on his birthday, a healthy and alert Atreides soldier just as Feyd requested. What once worried the Baron now seems a brilliant request by Feyd to prove his honor. “Oh Feyd-Rautha will show you his true Valor” the Baron says with confidence. They hear a final horn as the onlookers stare down into the arena.

Feyd Rautha emerges into the fighting pit. A long knife in his right hand, a short knife in his left.

The greeting cheers lift from all the galleries. Feyd Rautha pauses to accept it, looking up and scanning the faces to find the one he wants to see the most but there are so many.

Feyd Rautha holds up his knives to the sun, and salutes the three corners of the arena in the ancient manner.

The adjustment of his body shield takes only a moment. He clicks on the device at his waist. It covers him entirely in a transparent blue color. It will withstand fast attacks, slower ones can penetrate the field giving him time to defend. His uncle insisted for this fight especially he never turns off his sheild. It is his only guarantee against death if all else fails.

The crowd lowers to a murmur with everyone waiting in suspense.

Feyd steps back and faces his uncles tower. He places his right fist over his chest and kneels "I dedicate this victory to... " And he pauses, knowing his uncle forbade him from dedicating the most honorable fight of his life to you. His uncle leans forward in his seat. He will have him mercilessly flogged if he dedicates this to his Baroness.

"... to Na Baroness Harkonnen!" Feyd shouts. The crowd erupts into cheers of elation. His uncle scowls in disgust. Feyd has dedicated his wins to his uncle for over a decade.

The Baron lets out a sigh Feyd did honor the pledge he made on his wedding day to the populous, he said he would dedicate his victory to his Baroness. Maybe he will have you flogged in-front of Feyd instead, his obvious weakness. The crowd erupts into cheers chanting for Feyd.

Your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters applaud you. They begin letting out the ancient calls of a successful mating from your home world making you laugh. The thirteen of you are crowded together on the luxury balcony. You are far across the opposite end of the arena from the Baron.

Your sisters have been kind, the first to fully acknowledge and appreciate your pregnancy. They press their fingers on your womb and bow in reverence sending messages to the unborn. They constantly speak to you of your home world and brought you many luxurious gifts.

They see your anxiety increasing when you can’t stop looking over at Feyd as they speak with you. Placing their calming hands on you and your unborn they relax you. Once your mind is free from fear you are no longer apprehensive about Feyd during the fights. You join them to observe him.

“So this is the young man the Reverend Mother meant, this is the a bloodline we must preserve. The father of the future Kwisatz Haderach” They murmur collectively.

You stare through your binoculars at his striking form. He looks very powerful in his black armor wielding his blades. As if he can feel your gaze he finally turns over his shoulder looking for you behind him. He can not find you but you see his eyes, cold calculating and empty. You can not wait to restore life to him again.

Feyd refocuses, his uncle said no distractions. He nods to his nine barb-men checking their equipment with a measuring stare. They swing their barbs, hooks glistening signaling they are prepared.

Feyd turns facing the big red door across from him which the special Atreidies soldier will emerge.

Instead a low humming arises from the two black doors on his left .

As they slide open a large sluggish gladiator emerges from the first door. He sheilds his eyes from the sunlight and walks with a stupor. A second gladiator drags his feet as he exits the other door. His dazed out eyes lock on Feyd and he snarls as he lifts his heavy sword prepared to fight.

Feyd clicks his tongue enraged his uncle has gone back on his plan and not given him a fight with a warrior.

The larger gladiator slave approaches him first, yelling as he raises his sword swinging down with a slow blow Feyd easily dodges.

His feet glide across the sand stopping right behind the second gladiator slicing him across the back of the legs severing his tendons behind his knees. The gladiator falls forward to the ground. Feyd kicks him over and stabs him in the chest blood prays from the dying gladiators mouth as he locks eyes with him in death.

He retrieves his swords just as the first gladiator lunges, weapon raised high over his head. Feyd pivots and stabs him through the torso until it meets the handle. The gladiator sword drops behind him. Feyd presses his foot to the dying gladiators stomach kicking him off of his blade spraying drops of blood into the air.

The crowd erupts into cheers. Feyd paces waiting for the next door to open in the arena.

In the Barons skybox Count and Lady Fenring are not impressed looking through their binoculars. It was too easy for Feyd there was no challenge. The gladiators were obviously kept as slaves, malnourished and heavily drugged. They begin whispering angrily to each other over the Harkonnens deceitful ways within earshot of the Baron.

The Baron hovers forward in his chair staring at the large red door about to open.”Happy birthday my dearest nephew” he says aloud making the Lady and Count look back into the arena.

Feyd focuses all his awareness on the red door hearing it gear up.

The red door slams open.

Out charges a tall, muscular man. His head is shaved and he as dark pitted eyes. His skin is bronzed he wears a black loincloth with a small sword tucked in his waist belt. He holds his long sword, tilted slightly outward in the stance of an expert fighter. He advances into the arena, with his sheild turning its side toward Feyd Rautha and his group of men.

"I like not the look of this one” says one of Feyds barb-men. "Are you sure he’s drugged, m’Lord?"

“Stand ready” Feyd says with a grin. He revels in the thrill his blood is coursing knowing his life is at risk.

“He stands like a true fighter," his other barb-men says.

Feyd Rautha advanced two steps onto the sand, and studies the man.

It is not a soldier it is one of Duke Leto Atreides best sword fighters! A chill runs through Feyd exciting him. He remembers how his uncle prized this warrior as a trophy when he was captured on Arrakis.

Another of Feyds barb-men speaks up "m’Lord have the men set a barb or two in his knife arm to try him."

"I’ll set my own barbs!" Feyd snaps he’s been craving combat.

Feyd advances another five paces into the arena, playing out the moment, studying the swordsman.

Already, he knows, the experts in the stands above him are aware that something is wrong.

“We should stop the fight this one is not drugged” says the Barons Lord in waiting

"See how he stands. He should be agitated and attacking. See how he conserves his strength, how he waits! He should not wait!" The Lord in waiting continues to panic.

“Don’t ruin my nephews birthday” the Baron shrugs him off and brings up his binoculars

"Hai, Harkonnen!" the man calls. "Are you prepared to die?"

Feyd feels the excitement rising in his chest as he grips his long blade.

Deathly stillness grips the arena. Captured fighters have never issued a challenge to Na Baron.

A tight smile spreads across Feyds lips.

"Hai! Hai!" the man challenges him again and creeps forward two steps.

Feyd aims his sword almost in a greeting.

The swordsman pounces

A timed side blow misses severing the tendons of Feyds left leg by the fraction of an inch.

One of Feyds barb-men instantly hooks the man leaving a barbed shaft in his right forearm pulling back his second attack on Feyd. The hook completely buries in his flesh where the man can not withdraw it.

Feyd yells at his barb-men “GET BACK!” The nine of them encircling Feyd to protect him look to each other in confusion.

You see Feyds anger rising as you watch from the balcony. He wants to fight and prove his valor but his uncle has so many safe guards installed. One by one he is stripping them away.

The swordsman backs up, lashing the barbed shaft to his arm with his weapon. "I do not feel your little needle Harkonnen!" he shouts. He creeps forward. ”And I too can hide behind my sheild” he mocks Feyd as he bends his body backward to give it the greatest surface of protection from his half-shield.

After several challenges from the swordsman Feyd decide to give the audience a show they have never seen before. He reaches his hand to his waist and clicks off his sheild. The action does not escape the crowd everyone is stunned as they gasp.

“DAMN YOU FEYD!” The Baron shouts. He slams his fist on his chair knocking over his drink in his booth. It was the most important thing he said to him, wear the sheild to protect your life. He almost trembles knowing his future Baron is risking his life to prove himself.

Feyds barb-men know this is a mistake and call out to him begging to help.

He waves them back

Swiftly, Feyd Rautha moves to the center of the arena where all can clearly see. He crouches and waits for the advancing swordsmen.

"I do not fear you, Harkonnen swine I’ll have you dead beside me!" The swordsman yells

Feyd-Rautha grins so far the swordsman taunts are the only things that have landed.

The swordsman lunges and they dodge each before clanging sword to knife. The swordsman is on the defense. Feyd begins slicing his knife and sword together trying to gut the mans torso. The man keeps pace retreating backwards defending Feyds onslaught.

The swordsman locks his stance and stabs his sword upward at the advancing Feyd who leans back avoiding a stab through his chin. The swordsman sees Feyd off kilter and goes for another slice.

Feyd sees his movements and goes for the short stab. The swordsman shifts and quickly grabs Feyds blade handle before he can pierce his ribs. Both men struggle for power holding the handle of Feyds short blade.

Feyd aims the blade to the man neck going for the kill beginning to struggle from exhaustion. At that instant the strength of the swordsman tips the knife back at Feyd.

Feyd watches as the blade shakily inches closer and closer directly for his left eye "You will DIE, Harkonnen!" The soldier yells. Feyd lets out a maniacal laugh experiencing one of the best thrills of his life, he locks eyes with the tip of the blade and then the swordsman as he faces his certain death. “JUST DIE!" The swordsman shouts exerting all of his strength.

Feyd regains the knife and plunges the blade into the swordsman throat . He holds him close by the back of his head sword still imbedded “You fought well Atreides” Feyd whispers. He pulls out his blade and lets the man suffocates on his own blood.

He steps back a space between them sufficient enough for his long blade. Feyd heavily slashes down the soldiers chest with all his strength. He draws a deep gash severing his pectoral muscles. The agony is instant for the swords man. He drops his blade to the ground.

The man disengages himself, staggering backwards

Feyd Rautha stands in silence tilting his head to the side with a cold eeriness. His eyes watch the slowed motions of the man.

Feyd stands tall and inhales enjoying the man’s slow suffering. There is a look on the swordsman’s face now for every watcher to recognize. Death was written there.

The man staggers forward one dragging step at a time reaching for Feyd while clutching his throat.

Feyd draws back at each step to give death its space.

Sadness contorts his mouth. He slumps, then stiffens and falls face down at Feyd Rauthas feet.

Feyd advances in the silent arena, he puts his boot under the swordsman torso and rolls him onto his back to give the galleries a clear view.

There is an eruption of noise from the stands and galleries around him. They are cheering with wild abandonment.

Feyd-Rautha turns, looking up to them and raises his knife triumphantly in the air. He keeps his arm out stretched as he walks the length of the arena declaring his victory.

All are cheering in adulation except the Baron. He sits with hands to his chin in deep contemplation on Feyds defiance. The Count and his lady, both stare down at Feyd, their faces impressed with smiles to tell the good news to the Emperor. Feyd-Rautha is a worthy successor, a skilled fighter with valor, admired by his people.

Your sisters are thrilled by his skill and stunned by his brutality. As you witness hundred of thousand chanting his name and screaming for him as he walks through the arena you understand how much of an influence a Feyd has over the entire populous of Giedi Prime, they adore him.

His birthday is a holiday, his family controls the largest army in the galaxy and he is rich beyond all measure. He can take over and rule any time he wants.

Na Baron Feyd Rauthas Birthday Celebration

You and your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters walk down the long dark main halls of the Harkonnen fortress. All beautifully dressed in gowns. It is night fall and fireworks explode flickering light around the halls through the glass ceiling. The entire city is lit up in celebration of Na Baron Feyd Rauthas birthday.

You are wearing the black dress Feyd personally had designed for you. The hooded gown is sleeveless and backless with a high thigh split. A special snap seam installed to protected your modesty. The fabric of the gown swishes as you walk in heels. Your excitement growing as you are about to see Feyd again.

You arrive at the glass dome. It is an enormous structure with a 360 degree view of the city skyline. As the doors open you are greeted with the sound of Giedi Prime music the large dome is decorated with banners honoring Feyd Rautha. There is a decorated platform stage and six long tables arranged in rows to seat several hundred to dine and be entertained for the evening.

The Baron ordered you to be brought at latest moment possible to minimize your time and contact with Feyd on his birthday. You are to be sent directly back to your quarters after his ascension ceremony. Feyd is cunning and calculated he has already planned for this.

The dome is filled with dignitaries, nobles and the Harkonnen inner circle. They nod or bow as you enter depending on their status. Your Bene Gesserit sisters are gestured to a separate table. You are taken to sit with Feyd. As you reach the center of the dome you take a glance at him.

He stands from his seat at the head of the table. Wearing all black. He is dressed high collar with a regal cape that crosses his chest. He has a silver medallion of his family crest pinned to the left side at his shoulder. He looks like a very handsome dark prince.

Feyd sees you and already he wants you. So stunning in the dress he had made for you his heart rate increases. He misses you by his side, it’s been days. It’s at that moment he realizes he will be Baron and proudly rule with you at his side.

As you approach him your doe yes meet with his hunters gaze. You have to catch your breath as you are standing next to him the heat is practically radiating from him. The servant pulls out your chair and seats you at the head of the table beside Feyd.

His eyes never leave your profile, finally you take a glance over at him and smile. His hands caresses your shoulder. You lean in and give him a chaste kiss. His lips linger he needs to be inside of you again. He can’t live any other way.

“It was an honor to dedicate my 100th win to you today my Baroness” he confesses. You smile at him adoring the affectionate name. It is the first time he hasn’t called you his pet. You appreciatively plant another kiss on his lips as a reward this one is slower.

He gets riled more with each kiss you give him, the longer you sit next to him the more he has an urge to breed you. He fidgets with his signet ring on his pinky trying to channel down his sexual craving for you. He hopes the ceremony is over soon so he can reclaim you. He traces his finger over your neck your love marks from him have completely faded.

His eyes never look away from you. He trails his fingers down your back, down your shoulder, he can’t keep his hands off you. Unable to contain himself any longer he reaches beneath the table places his hand on your thigh at the slit. His fingers caress and feel your soft skin there. You let out a breath as he pulls one leg away from the other. You feel his fingers inch between your thighs as you start to go weak.

“Feyd…” he cuts you off leaning in close to your ear. He pushes his hand between your legs resting at your pussy “I had this dress made especially for my birthday” he says smiling against your ear “Because I knew..” he pops one snap of your seam “ I was going to have you..” he pops the second one “sitting right next to me” his finger slides open the third seam. You are completely exposed.

He is so calculated and sensual your core pulls tight as your breathing increases from his touch. You want him. “Take me to your chamber” you plead in a whisper to him “It’s a ceremony in my honor we’ll have to wait”’ he smirks giving you a kiss on the shell of your ear. “But I want to enjoy a little gift first” he says glancing between your legs.

He presses his fingers onto your folds finding your clit, as he pinches it and you let out a breath. Your thoughts are cut short as you grip the chair. He’s found your entrance and begins pushing his fingers inside of you. He nuzzles his nose against your ear and plants soft kisses on your jaw. When he fully inserts his fingers deeply inside your tight walls you begin falling apart. Your mind goes fuzzy as you try to remain composed.

Feyd rests his head against yours and peeks up through his lashes. He notices Count Fenring and Lady Margot watching him intently at the table. He smirks and turns you to face to him.

Your cheeks are flushed your eyes are pleading. You are drawing too much attention. He places two fingers under your chin pulling you into a kiss. Even though everyone in the vicinity knows what he’s doing at the head of the table no one dares to intervene. They avert their eyes, Feyd Rautha reigns supreme in the Harkonnen fortress especially on his birthday.

You feel overwhelmed with passion as he slowly thrusts his fingers curling them into you. His eyes search yours, he knows you are going to cum you’ve been without him too long. He fingers you faster and your walls begin to throb. As he kisses you he collects your first small moan in his mouth.

You begin to panic realizing he’s going to make you silently cum in front of all the most important people in the galaxy it makes your core even tighter. He rests his left arm around you and gently guides your lips to his neck holding you against to him.

As your lips press on his sensitive flesh you begin to suck and bite his neck to keep yourself quiet. His fingers move deeply inside of you and rub against a certain spot that makes your wall begin to rhythmically flutter. When the feeling becomes too pleasurable you instantly cum for him and bite his neck to stifle your moans.

His throat tenses and releases as your walls clench on his fingers. He holds your face to his neck wanting you to bite him once more. You sink your teeth into his neck even harder the second time as you come down leaving a mark. You hear him groan and feel a chill run through his body as you release your bite.

You quickly whisper “Did I hurt you?” He whispers back in your ear “ Yes…I want more.” He brings your hand to his cock and you feel you how hard he is from your bite. So many ideas form in your mind recently discovering his kink cabinet. You give him a soft kiss on his neck over the bite mark. You know what your birthday gift to him will be.

His name is suddenly called by his uncle.

“Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!” His uncle calls him to the stage Feyd quickly slips his fingers and lips from you. He whispers in your ear “After I receive my award make an excuse to leave and find my Page he will sneak you to my quarters” he instructs. You give him a quick kiss and he heads up to the stage. He discreetly sucks his fingers enjoying your taste as he walks up the upstairs.

Feyd approaches his uncle standing tall and reluctantly kneels in front of him. The Baron places around his neck the ancient Prime Giedi stone necklace signifying he has reached his ascension.

As the audience erupts in applause he stands back up staring down at his obese weak uncle. The only thing in his way of having you and becoming Baron is this detestable old man too evil to die.

Feyd smiles to himself, ruling Giedi Prime as Baron with his Baroness is his first goal. Becoming Emperor with you as his Empress is next.

“Feyd come speak with me in my chambers I have something I’d like to tell you in private. It’ll only take a moment” His uncle requests. Feyd looks to the table seeing you are gone. His frustration sets in wanting to be with you.

Normally he would enjoy escaping his birth day festivities but this time he wanted to be with you instead. Every second being taken from being with you infuriates him.

Once Feyd is at the Barons chambers he is stopped by the guards. Feyd waits several minutes until he is allowed to enter. His uncle as always using power plays to make him wait.

The guards open the door to his personal spa room. The Baron sits in his tub smoking hookah, two pleasure slaves on his right.

Feyd has been waiting for an opportune moment to set his plan in motion and this just might be it.

He smirks to himself at the brilliant idea he formed the day his uncle removed you from him. The day he swore he’d kill him. He will drug one of his uncles pleasure slaves with a slow acting toxin in the blood stream. One that will kill the Baron from prolonged contact. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen will die a slow and painful death. Leaving the throne to his already appointed successor. Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.

Feyd stands up taller breaking the long silence “You summoned me uncle?” He asks growing impatient. “Yes Feyd it’s about your Baroness. You've refused every pleasure slave sent to you and I understand now you’re going to save your cock for her …forever.”

He swishes his hand through the air as if trying wipe away the idea “What a waste, do you know how much your pleasure slaves beg for you? What does your wife have a cunt made of gold? ”He asks off handedly. “If you keep talking about my wife’s cunt I’m going to down you in that tub” Feyd says with his hidden rage seeping through.

His uncle chokes out a laugh “Dont be hasty, you’ll rule Giedi Prime soon enough. But I need you to show her who you really are, why you haven’t terrified her yet I don’t understand. I saw your blood lust in the arena today how much longer do you think she’ll allow that hmm?

You must dominate her and break her. If you do that, if I see you break the spirit in her defiant eyes then I’ll know you have absolute control of her. I will grant you my blessing to become Baron.” He takes a drag from his hookah pipe “But know this Feyd,I will never have a woman rule my people with my nephew as a puppet.”

Feyd knows no matter what he does his uncle will find another excuse to deny him of having you. He will use you as his weakness just as he does now. There is no pleasing the man he is a bottomless pit.

There is one way Feyd can change his fate. He points to his pleasure slaves “Uncle how can you discern which is your favorite?” He asks. “Oh they have no names or faces they are an object of satisfaction” he chuckles smoking on his pipe. Hmmm Feyd thinks, to himself, so I will have to poison them both.

Pleasurable Pain

The Page unlocks the door to Feyds room handing you the key and bows leaving your presence. You smile as you enter remembering his room all over again. As you remove your heels you already know how want to surprise him tonight.

On his birthday you are going to use his own kinks on him. You quickly take his display case keys and unlock the kink cabinet door. You pull aside several items and blend them on the sex toy table at the foot of his bed. A few cock rings, the glowing liquid, black nipple clamps, and four restraints. You will start with what you know.

You lift the blanket from his bed and lock a chained cuff to each post replacing the blanket hiding them in plain sight. You are quite pleased with yourself.

When Feyd enters the chamber looking stressed you almost change your mind to make love to him instead. You rush to him “What is it what happened?” You hold his face he looks even more stunning in the low lighting of his chamber. He immediately begins kissing you cradling your head in his hands. He pulls your hood down revealing your hair.

“I’ve done something that will secure our future. I didn’t realize the things I would do to get you back until you were taken away from me” he admits. You search his eyes “Your ascension?“ you ask trying to narrow down what he means. “Yes it will be sooner than expected, no one will be able to separate you from me again” he says tracing his thumb down the side of your face.

“I dreamt of you every night you weren’t with me“ he says softly kissing you lips “In my dreams I would fuck you” he whispers as he kisses you neck “I would fuck you until my cum spilled out of you” he says as he stops to look you in the eyes “and when I woke up I wanted you even more” he confesses. You begin slowly kissing each other lost in a passionate reunion.

You softly break the kiss looking into his eyes.

“Come with me “ you say and take his hand leading him to the bed. You sit on the edge and he begins to take his place on top of you but you stop him placing your foot at his waist keeping him at a bay. He smirks looking down at your dainty foot holding him back and then up into your eyes meeting your heated gaze.

“Take off all your clothing for me” you request. He immediately unclasps his cape letting it fall to the floor. You bite you lip watching how quickly he undresses for you.

You realize he listens and will do everything you say. Your eyes light up once he’s completely naked.

“Kneel”you point it the space infront of you. Feyd drops down on his knees infront of you

After witnessing the power and strength he has over an entire planet seeing him completely naked kneeling at your feet is surreal. You test your limits “Play with your cock Feyd-Rautha” you command.

When you see him grab his shaft in his fist and begin to pump his cock you immediately get wet. Chills cover the expanse of your body as he keeps going never breaking eye contact with you

” Feyd.. stop..” you say voice faltering from arousal. You spread your legs open in your gown. He can already see you glistening folds. “Come please me” your voice is just above a whisper due to your passion for him.

He places his hands at your waist and you rest your palms back on the bed. He tilts your hips in his hands to aim upward to his face. He grabs your legs one at a time placing them over his pale muscular shoulders. He scoops one hand around your hips pulling your pussy toward his face, sliding between your thighs on his shoulders. You let out a moan as his mouth connects between your legs.

You immediately place your hand on his head holding him close. “Feyd you feel so good” you praise him as he licks you with his warm tongue making your clit begins to pulse. He’s becoming your weakness.

You look up in then mirror on the ceiling and see he’s stroking his cock in his other hand. He’s overwhelmed with arousal as he eats your pussy. It drives you insane. You moan from the sight you need to please him.

“Feyd lay on the bed” you request breathlessly. He removes his mouth from you licking his lips. You stand as he climbs to rest in the middle. You look at his musclular pale body laying on the black sheets. His cock is already hard from eating you out and playing with himself. You lose your focus but quickly recover with your plan.

You climb on the bed and straddle his abs. You completely dressed with him naked. He places one hand on your hip and the other under your clit. You pull his hands away and his eyes look surprised.

You take his right hand and stretch his arm to lay flat on the bed. You lift the sheet and bring out the hidden leather restraint wrapping it around his wrist pulling the buckle tight. He has a wicked smile as he stares at you realizing your cleverness.

With one hand already strapped he willingly lays the other one down. You wrap and pull tight his second wrist restraint. His eyes flash with excitement from your surprise. You climb off of him and he spreads his legs letting you strap both ankles.

You stand back and admire your work, the physically dominating Feyd Rautha restrained on a bed for your pleasure. It exhilarates you beyond compare. The fact that he can’t move excites you even more you trail your hand from his ankle to his thigh.

You reach his chest and lightly scratch your nails down to his rock hard abs “If I hurt you will you tell me?” You ask sweetly. His cock twitches “Yes Baroness” he answers. The way he says your title makes your core hot “What will you say so I know if it hurts too much?”you ask innocently. You can’t help yourself as you slide your fingertip along his stiff cock.

“Red door” he says with an already established phrase. “Have you ever used ‘red door’ before?” You ask curiously. He has a devious smile as he tilts his head back reminiscing. He quickly meets your gaze again “No” he says confidently.

You are not the pain inflicting type but you see how he enjoys it so you will try for him.

You take your dress off until you are completely bare. He stares, eyes looking at your face and then your body. His heart rate increases finally seeing you exposed to him after being without you for days.

You go to the sex toy table and pick up a thick rubber ring to fit around his girth. You climb on the bed kneeling between his thighs. His cock is so large the way it towers between his thighs makes you overcome with arousal.

You regain your focus and bring the cock ring to place on him. He stops you “I want the tighter one the purple one” he requests. You smile at his boldness and exchange the rings at the table.

Before you climb on the bed he directs you further “In my night stand get the vial with the shimmering liquid inside of it.” he adds “What is it?” You ask finding the vial. “it’s lubricant..and it’s sweet“ he says with a grin that makes you blush.

You bring it with you and kneel between his legs. You glide the lube all over his already hard cock. It feels good to him as you coat his shaft up to his tip. His chest begins rising and falling as he stares at you enamored.

You take your hands and place the purple ring above his tip he watches intently. You glide the tight ring slowly all the way down his cock. He exhales sharply feeling it roll as you settle it at the base.

You watch as his tip becomes pinker and then his shaft as his tip turns red. His veins begin to show prominently pulsing. The urge to suck him or ride him is overwhelming but you also know he wants to be tortured.

You need his touch to continue, crawling up to him you begin kissing his lips. He kisses you back so needy for you. It’s been days he doesn’t want to let you go. You break the kiss and look him in his eyes “You’ll cum on my command” you say it just the way you remember him saying it to you “Yes Baroness “He says it so obediently you smile and kiss him one more time.

As you climb over his chest he stares up at your pussy inches from his face. He opens his mouth begging to taste you. But you flip around. Your face inches over his cock your pussy directly in his face.

He begins groaning as he feels you suck on him, tasting his cock sweet from the lubricant drives you insane with lust. Your pussy is spread in his face as you kneel and suck him. He yanks his wrist against the right restraint to touch you forgetting it’s chained.

He tilts his head back and watches you in the mirror on his ceiling. Your beautiful waist and back, your head slowly bobbing in his cock, he swallows thickly. He fights to stop his hips from thrusting in your mouth as you suck him so deeply. He knows you are enjoying the sweet lubricant on his cock.

He tilts his head down to see your folds are glistening more just from sucking him. When he sees your delicate fingers slide Into your pussy he loses all his resolve “ free me” he begs. You ignore him and slide your fingers in and out of your entrance sweetly moaning on his cock. He tosses his head back against the pillows chest heaving you are pleasurably torturing him.

Suddenly you stop sucking him and get up. You slowly run your finger through your slit collecting your wetness for him “Is this what you crave?” You ask bringing your fingers to his mouth. He readily sucks the arousal from you. When his eyelids flutter you quickly remove your finger from with mouth. “More ” he demands. His voice is deeper full of unbridled lust.

You reach and pinch his nipple hard instead watching his reaction. “Harder!” he commands. His voice rising from sexual frustration. He’s getting so aggressive it’s making you go timid.

You see the deep rooted insanity in his eyes wanting to feel pain. You know what he needs and go to the sex toy table returning with black nipple clamps. You kneel on the bed beside him.

His cock twitches and he tilts his hips from the bed almost unable to contain his excitement as he sees you dangle the black chain over his chest. These are different, inside the black metal clamps there are tiny needle spikes to inflict even more pain.

You clamp one nipple and then the other. You squeeze the clamps making the spikes pinch even harder into his delicate skin. You finally get a groan from him. He opens his mouth taking deep breaths as his eyes go wide feeling the arousal forming in his groin from the pain.

You gently take the chain and hold it in your fist. You pull the chain up and his nipples begin slowly stretching being pierced by the spikes. An agonizing scream finally rips from his throat as his body goes rigid, he breathes like he can’t get air to his lungs. You feel so tormented that he likes this.

You lean over and kiss him in his greatest moment of pain shocking his body rendering him senseless. His cock gets harder and begins to twitch. You release him from the kiss and pull the chain tighter.

He lets out a choked off moan as he cums without you even touching him. His cock spasms as he releases rope of after rope. His sperm covers his abs and his thighs. You release your hold on the chain and his breathing finally returns to normal. He rests his head back trying to process what happened.

You lean close to him again caressing his forehead with your hand. You shake your head in mock disappointment “I didn’t say you could cum” you say with a smile. You unclamp his nipples one at a time. The tiny piercings made from the spikes left pin pricks of blood on his nipples.

He has a wicked grin as he stares at you then he throws his head back and lets out a maniacal laugh. He realizes you are doing everything he did to you on the first night. “Let me kiss you” he says in appreciation. He is heavily panting enjoying your game his mind at ease now that the clamps are off. You shake your head no “let me kiss where you need it the most” he begs looking at the wetness between your thighs “no reward for you yet” you say sweetly.

You leave him tied and dab the blood from his nipples and clean him up wiping all the cum from him.

When he played this game before he was usually being flogged choked and humiliated by his pleasure slaves, lots of spit swapping and pain. It would take him over an hour to finally cum and they would fight over who drank it.

Then he would tie and torture them not caring for their pleasure but enjoying the way they screamed like unhinged animals as he fucked them to the point of injury. Looking back it feels like an out of body experience. He can’t even trace back to when it began but he believes as an adolescent his uncle must’ve made the arrangements.

He is deep in thought as you settle between his legs again. This time you have the glowing arousal fluid he doesn’t take notice. You slip his cock ring off. You are going to coat his length and have him push the arousal fluid it inside of you.

Of all his sex things you love this liquid the most the orgasms are so intense you feel the pleasure in every space of your body like your are floating in ecstasy.

You watch his eyes widen but you’ve already slathered his cock tip. “This is for females its going to make me cum instantly “ he cries out. You immediately close the bottle you didn’t realize.

He begins to feel his cock tip pulsing he closes his eyes and grits his teeth as his face flushes. “What do I do!” You panic. He opens his eyes and stares at you he can’t even think his cock is hardening as all the blood rushes to his tip and begins pulsing. His pupils have gone so wide the only color showing is black “I’m going to cum” is all he manages to say.

You quickly climb on his lap and sink down on his length. You feel the pinch of stretching on his size too quickly as you both let out moans.

Feyd is going listless breathing through his teeth, he holds out with every fibre of his being wanting to give you an orgasm. He is grateful you didn’t coat his full cock.

You place your hands on his chest and begin to ride him. The arousal fluid spreads quickly hitting directly into your cervix.“ Feyd your cock feels so good” you moan out as you clench on him.

You begin riding up and down on him wanting the feeling to last forever. He bucks his hips back into you as you both make sounds of pleasure. The arousal fluid softens your walls so well you want more you want him harder and deeper.

You work so hard your pace begins to falter you can’t even ride him, the feeling is so intense you just moan with your hands on his abs. “free me” his voice brings you back to the planet.

You lock eyes with him and nod. You reach and unbuckle one of his hands and then the other. He rises up against you with his powerful chest and wraps you in his arms hugging you tightly.

With his ankles still in restraints he places one hand on the bed for leverage and hold you to him as he slams his cock up into you.

You scream he’s going so hard. You hug him around his neck feeling his abs contracting as he thrusts. He begins pounding into you. The arousal fluid working perfectly the harder he fucks the more pleasurable it feels for you. As you gasp for air he grunts against your ear fucking you to pieces.

He doesn’t slow down not once for anything his hips clap between your legs until you cum. Your clit pluses as your walls flutter and begin to milk his cock. You place your mouth on his moaning throat as you bite him as hard as you can. He deeply groans from the pain and bursts rope after rope inside of you filling you with his cum. You whimper on his neck the feeling is so euphoric.

He feels his cock empty inside of you as he holds you in his lap panting heavily in your ear. You release your teeth from his neck. You have clearly marked him. You see the deep red circle of your bite and plant a kiss. He hugs you closer and presses your head to rest on his shoulder. He strokes down your back and rests his head to yours enjoying the intimate moment.

You suddenly sit up remembering he’s still restrained. You turn to the side in his lap unbuckling one ankle and then the other. He pulls his knees up bringing you back to him in his lap. “You want to see some thing” he asks with a smile. “Of course” you say. “It’s something I do every year on my birthday.” He admits. You both get out of bed. He puts a black cloaked robe on you then he puts one on himself and you sneak out of his chambers.

Secret Celebration

He holds your hand and guides you through the fortress trying to remain unseen. There are still guests in the halls . When he peeks around a corner and sees a group of delegates he puts a finger to his lips signaling you to remain silent . He waits until they aren’t looking then takes your hand and you slip unseen into a darkened corridor. He finally brings you up a large flight of stairs to a pair of stone doors at the top.

As you enter everything is black marble it is a large space with a giant scale window as a back drop with a view of the Capitol. All the lights are off only the moonlight shines through the gigantic window.

From what you can tell it looks like a spa lobby. He takes you to a smaller corridor with several opaque glass doors. He stops at the sixth one and pushes it open.

There is a floor to ceiling window viewing the capital and a large indoor rock pool in the center of the room. Feyd pulls his robe off and gets in halfway. He waits for you to remove your cloak and holds his hand out to make sure you get in safely over the flat marble edge.

The water is warm and relaxing. You smile as you sink in to your neck and then submerge your head fully. You resurface and it is quite dark in the room aside from the city lights and the glowing moon shining in the window. You look over and see Feyd resting back against a marble edge. He gestures you to come.

You swim over to the shallow end and he pulls you next to him.

Feyd rests his head back against the marble ledge to stare at the city lights, you join him and do the same “Get ready” he says. Suddenly one by one fireworks begin to burst across the entire city until they expand the entire skyline. It lights up the entire room.

You sit up and stare at the white bursts for miles you hear the sound of horns and drums begin. The entire capitol is having an enormous celebration for him.

“Feyd aren’t you supposed to be at your party?” you suddenly realize in shock” he grabs you by the upper arm pulling you to straddle his lap in the water. “I’d rather be here with you ” he says with certainty.

You stare at his full lips and into his blue eyes you are falling madly for him your mind starts racing remembering all of your Bene Gesserit training your first loyalty is to the order. You try to look back at the fireworks to gather your mind but he quickly brings his hand out of the water guiding your face back to his.

Your breathing is labored as you stare into his eyes. He gazes into yours like you are his only object of affection in the entire universe, before you realize it you are kissing him.

It’s heavier and different it makes your heart ache from guilt. As you kiss him the guilt of your betrayal to the Bene Gesserits worries you less and less until not at all.

“I want to fuck you while we watch the fire works he says” he says. You look in his eyes and smile, he loves sex so much. He stands up holding you and you wrap your legs around his waist kissing him as he carries you through the water to the other ledge closer to the window. He grabs your slippery waist turning you over chest flat on the marble ledge.

He reaches his hand between your legs beneath the water. He checks your entrance the water sealed you tight you aren’t ready. He lifts your waist out of the water so your stomach and chest are on the marble ledge. Then he kneels as devours your pussy from behind.

Your moans echo the room not expecting it. As you begin to get wet he slides his finger in working you open. Your mind is going blank just taking everything he’s giving you. He rests one knee on the underwater ledge to be level with you. When presses his cock tip to your entrance and you gasp. Your heart is already pounding wildly in your chest.

His cock penetrates you hard stuffing you full. You let out a deep moan as you try to adjust to his size. This time he lets you. He pulls you back into the water so your knees rest on the ledge. He places one foot on the on the floor and the other on then ledge with you.

When he thrusts into you the water makes you move all around. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and presses your chest flat on the marble for more leverage. As his thrusts get harder you whimper and moan trying to stay sane.

He loves the feeling of your cunt being stretched around his thick cock. He pulls you back to him and begins to whisper in your ear as he thrusts unable to contain his arousal for you “You enjoy being stretched around my cock don’t you, I love the sounds you make for me.” You can’t form words only deeper moans as you nod.

He presses himself fully inside of you smacking his hips into you as his cock pushes into your cervix “I can barely fit inside of you and still your pussy tries to suck me in” he says voice straining voice full of arousal as he thrusts harder. He feels you clench on him and he groans in pleasure. His cock twitches knowing his reward when he makes you cum. He gives your cheeks a nice smack for feeling too good.

He leans over you pressing your chest flat on the marble. He places his hands on top of yours intertwining his fingers locking you down.

He licks a long wide stripe up the middle of your back starting between your shoulder blades.

You begin letting out pleasurable moans. Your eyes close enjoying the feeling of his wet slick tongue exploring your body.

When he turns animalistic like this it sends chills up your spine triggering your climax. Your nipples harden as he settles his tongue at the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks there with such fervor your throat pulses as he creates the bruise, you rhythmically clench on his cock.

He bites his black teeth into the delicate skin of your throat and your walls begin throbbing as the tightness in your core intensifies. He takes one arms to wrap around your torso pulling you back to him and shortens his thrusts.

They begin to pierce through your tight walls as he sucks more loving bruises into your neck. You are moaning so loudly it’s edging him on. He begins to grunt against your neck feeling his cock swell tighter ready to cum.

Feyd suddenly stops his movements, holding you still. He hears voices from the lobby. You are both panting loudly as he covers your mouth.

He hears the hushed voice of one of his uncle’s his advisors “Yes he is here m’Lord however he’s in the throes of passion with his Baroness and it being his birthday I didn’t want to disturb him.” “The throes of passion?!“ his uncle angrily whispers

“Yes m’Lord it was louder before but if were quiet maybe you can still hear them.” They all fall silent to listen . Feyd remembers his uncles words about dominating you into submission and he smirks. “ To get them to leave I’m going to need you to scream like bloody murder for me” he whispers and you nod.

He pushes you down flat against the marble lifting your submerged half out of the water. He pins you down with his hand at the back of your neck as he begins to use you.

“Time to fill my tight little cunt up” he yells spanking you as he thrusts. The distraction sends shocks through your body and makes your clit pulse. He spanks you again and you let out a loud moan as your mind goes fuzzy.

His breaths get heavier as he plows his cock harder into you and your body goes listless. Your moans are unending as he fucks you onto the marble.

“Scream for me! “ he yells and he spanks you hard as you moan in pleasure. He spanks you again and again and again until it begins to hurt and your brain clicks you are supposed to pretend scream in pain. The sound rips from you throat so loudly it reverberates the walls. It sends a chill through Feyd.

The Baron and his men look to each other all too stunned to speak “The boy listens after all “ the Baron finally speaks up with an grin “He’s finally training that defiant wife of his, I just need to hear it a moment more and we can leave” the Baron listens as you scream “Feyd please…no …please…stop!” followed by a blood curdling scream .

A deep laugh reverberates in the Barons chest he loves the terrified screams of women. Especially being caused by a Harkonnen “She won’t be right for weeks, once the healers stitch her up she will no longer be a problem” the Baron chuckles to his men as they depart the spa.

Feyd hears the noises of his uncle and his advisors leaving the spa.

He pulls you back up against him and covers your mouth to make you orgasm without them hearing. He pinches your clit until it begins throbbing then he rubs it increasing in pressure until you are overwhelmed moaning into his hand.

He thrusts into you at his hardest. Pummeling into your body until he can no longer hold out. He releases his load into you as you both orgasm. You moan pleasurably as your walls milk him of his seed. His hips stutter as he groans emptying his cock into you. He releases your mouth and it takes you both several moments to recover.

The fireworks slowly begin to die down and you rest your head back against his shoulder. He always fucks you until you’re exhausted. “Feyd I’m tired” you admit. “Your chambers are closer let’s sleep there tonight” he decides. You collect your robes and sneak out together.

A Change of Fate

When you get to your chambers your handmaiden sleepily opens the door. When she sees Feyd-Rautha her eyes widen in fear “m’Lord, Na Baroness “she stutters as she bows ushering you inside . She dare not remind Feyd of his uncles rule of his visitation restriction for fear he will slit her throat.

Feyd looks around your sitting area at all the books you’ve collected from the library on your tables. He notices one stack in particular. Every spine on each book reads ‘Harkonnen’ his eyes widen in apprehension, you’ve been digging into his family history.

You open the doors to your chambers and he sees the room is full of color and life. Accustomed to the monotone grayscale of the fortress he is stunned. There are vibrant flowers , paintings, candles, decorative vases and sculptures through our your bed chamber. All of the linens are patterned in shimmering colors of gold and powder blue. A pillow of each color and shape matches the bedding.

There are gifts all over your room some even unopened. When he slowly realizes they are for your pregnancy he hesitates unable to say anything. You see the concerned look in his eyes and smile lovingly gesturing him to come to you.

He holds you close and you take your hand to his temple. Your fingers delicately caress him there to transfer him calming energy. After a moment his eyes soften and he feels the apprehension of fatherhood lifting and changing.

His fear is replaced with serenity. The female he cares for the most is carrying his heir and he will cherish her. Whether he can be a good father or not is a test of time. His mind begins expanding onto a new intrusive thought.

He can barely even remember his own father, he has only known the Baron. He struggles to recall a distorted memory . His uncle screaming at him that his father had betrayed the Harkonnen name and he would no longer be the alias Feyd-Rautha Rabban but now Harkonnen. It is a core memory he can stem his resentment from.

You grow weary and place your hand on his chest. You are barely able to keep your eyes open. His eyes refocus and realize it is very late. He locks his feelings deep inside of him self again. He needs to be prepared for another fateful event happening soon.

As you go to rinse your face and cleanse your mouth. He calls your hand maiden, “Find my Page have him bring my clothing and personal effects here I’m staying the night” she nods hesitantly and departs.

She finds his Page relaying Feyds message and ensures her reputation by reporting Feyds defiance to the Barons Lord in waiting. The Lord in waiting shoos her away something far more misfortunate has happened in the Barons chamber. He and two of his pleasure slaves are found naked and unresponsive. Their skin displaying a faint purple hue. Fearing disease or an airborne poison they seal the chamber until the healers can arrive.

You emerge from the basin room yawning as you disrobe and climb into bed. Feyd looks over you and smiles as he takes his robe off and climbs into bed next to you.

He stretches in the feeling of your silk sheets caressing him all over his body. He pulls you to him and brings your arm across his chest making you hug him. You press a kiss to the bite mark on his neck“ Happy Birthday Feyd” you say as you close your eyes. He smiles and pets your head. Slaying a warrior and getting his Baroness back have been his favorite gifts. Another secret joy fills his heart as you both drift off to sleep.

Early the next morning there is a banging at the door. Feyd sits up and gets dressed already rehearsed. The handmaiden opens the door and allows the visitors entry into the seating room. Once Feyd is dressed he kneels at the side of your bed as you sleep, he strokes his thumb down your jaw, if all goes according to plan he can have you forever. He stands up prepared for the onslaught of the day.

He emerges from the bed chamber into the entry sitting room . Three advisors and six guards are waiting. The lead advisor bows “Lord Feyd Rautha the Baron has fallen ill, your presence is requested at once” Feyd doesn’t respond he tightly presses his lips not to smile and gestures them to lead. He follows them out of the room to the medical bay of the fortress.

Word travels quickly through the fortress and into the populous during the early morning hours on Giedi Prime. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is dying.

To Be Continued…

Part 4 Madness & Mayhem Harkonnen Reunion |Feyds Depraved Kink |Long Live the Baron4

⚔️ Fic Tag List: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @jessica987 @hardcoredisneynerd @faegoddessog @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney

[necrotic-nightshade]

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been somewhere other than my house

Fuck

[tasteracha]

kinktober - day one

kink: breeding kink with chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. talk of birth control. unprotected sex. afab!reader.

the thing is, you don’t even want kids. or at least, not right now, not in the place in life you were. you’re sure that if you ever did end up wanting kids that you would want them with chan though, the most perfect and gentle soul with the perfect balance of sweet and spicy that you would love to see passed down the genetic line. even so, it doesn’t explain why the thought of him spilling inside of you and filling you up to the brim makes you shiver in unabridged desire.

it’s a thought that you’ve kept to yourself until now. for all of his quick jokes and dirty humor, chan is pretty tame in bed - he knows what he likes, what you like, and rarely strays from it. he’s always been willing to try new things, whether it results in the best fuck of your combined lives or with the two of you giggling all over each other, but for some reason this one is different.

it’s only after he’s pulled out two orgasms from you, one with his fingers and the other with his mouth, that you let it slip out right as he’s slipping himself into you. 

“oh, fuck,” you grunt, bearing down on chan’s dick as he bottoms out. “knock me up baby, come on.”

“wait, really?” he stops moving just as he’s almost pulled out, mouth gaped open, leaving your core pulsing around nothing and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “i just mean, we haven’t talked about it, shouldn’t we get married firs-”

“no not really, i’m on birth control, dumbass,” you raise yourself up, glutes on fire as you try and fuck yourself on his cock, taking the both of your breaths away for a moment. “it’s just really hot to imagine. now fill me up with your babies, please.”

you don’t know if it’s your tone or your words, crude as they were, but his eyes harden just a bit and he slams his hips down with enough force that yours press up against the mattress again, making you see stars. 

“how can i deny you anything when you ask so nicely?” he says, punctuating every other word with a harsh thrust and you for a moment you can’t even remember what he was talking about with the way your thoughts are tangled up.

“you’d give me anything, hmm?” your voice comes out in whisps, your breath utterly taken away by him. 

he gets a bit animalistic then, like he’s trying to get into the mood, to match you on your level at his own pace - which seems to be fast, if the way he’s drilling into you like a jackhammer has anything to say about it. 

“you’re going to look so good with my baby inside of you,” he rubs at your lower belly before pushing down, stimulating you from either side as he continues fucking into you so slowly. he’s finally letting himself lean into it, the logic that he was trying to work around suddenly forgotten in lieu of ramming into you like he would die if he stopped. 

“come on,” you twist your hips a bit, letting him hit new spots within you that send your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “come in me, you can do it baby.”

you know you won’t be able to come again until you feel his release inside of you, costing your walls like a painting. you continue urging him, sweet words in his ears and whispered encouragements that make his arms tighten just a little bit more around you until he comes with a growl. his movements go slack, little aborted thrusts, and he buries his head into your neck just as you come around his length. 

it takes the two of you several moments to come down from your highs, the sound of your panting covering the entire room.

“no!” you cry out almost involuntarily when he moves to pull out, the slightest budge that causes some of the cum inside of you to slip out. your hands grasp at his hips, holding him against you and the movement drives him further inside of you than he had been all night. you shake in oversensitivity, the tiny drag of him against your walls burning so good.

he’s not entirely unaffected either, shown by the way he all but collapses on top of you. he’s covering you completely, his weight on top of you and his softening cock inside of you a comfort. 

“do you think it took?” he massages at your belly, right where his cock was. if you weren’t also as hazy as him, you might have snarked back at him about how it’s very unlikely that it did, but any comment you might have made fizzled out with one look at his dazed face. his eyes were soft, clouded over a bit and he had a small smile on his face as he looked up at you from where his head was resting on your chest. 

kinktober masterlist

[gwaindrifter]

fuck

[sarahghetti]

moving day; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.

warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

word count: 9.9k

notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.

He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.

(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.

He just couldn’t move on.)

But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.

It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.

The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.

However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.

Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.

It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.

(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.

Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.

But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.

Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)

-

Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.

They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.

When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”

Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.

Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”

“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.

“Still—”

“Oh, don’t start—”

At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.

Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.

It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.

“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”

Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”

“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”

It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.

And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.

They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.

There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.

In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.

.

.

.

Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.

There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.

(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.

Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.

Steven likes having something just for him.)

Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.

“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—

Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.

In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”

Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”

“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”

“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”

“What? No—what?”

“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”

“Steven!”

-

“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.

They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.

“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”

He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.

“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”

“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.

(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’

Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)

“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”

Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”

“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”

Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”

He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.

He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.

You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”

Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.

Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.

So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”

“What?”

“What?”

“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”

Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.

“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—

—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.

“How do I look?”

The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.

Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.

God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”

You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”

“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.

A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.

His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”

You light up. “Really?”

“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”

Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”

Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.

It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.

Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.

Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.

“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."

Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”

Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”

And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.

“About time, innit?”

-

Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.

The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—

You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.

(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)

So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.

After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.

Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”

You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—

“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.

“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.

“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”

The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”

“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”

“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.

You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.

“You can open—”

You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.

“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”

You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.

They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.

When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.

“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.

.

.

.

You are the bane of Jake’s existence.

First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?

Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.

Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.

But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.

Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.

(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.

Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)

In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.

So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.

Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.

-

Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?

Jake has his car.

Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.

The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.

That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.

It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.

He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.

(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.

That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.

How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.

How do they know?)

There’s a rustling in the bedroom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

“Marc?”

You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.

He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”

A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”

You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”

If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.

But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.

You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.

“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.

There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.

For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.

-

Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.

You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”

Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”

Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”

That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”

You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”

Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”

“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.

“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”

His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”

A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.

He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—

That third sarcophagus—

Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?

Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.

“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.

Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—

To the right—

-

So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.

He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.

The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.

But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—

You are the bane of his existence.

Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.

He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.

They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.

-

You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.

But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”

The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.

That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—

“Jake.”

The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.

“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.

“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”

A wave of dread washes over you.

He’s not talking about last night.

No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.

He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”

Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.

There’s no way—

“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”

You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.

You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—

You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—

You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.

No. You can’t believe it.

You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.

None of it makes sense.

It—it can’t—

The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.

They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.

They call you princesa.

-

It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.

Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.

He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—

It’s best to steer clear for a while.

Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.

“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”

No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.

You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.

Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.

Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—

Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.

He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.

Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.

It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.

His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.

(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)

Then—your keys turn in the door.

.

.

.

Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.

“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.

“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”

“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”

“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”

You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.

“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”

Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”

Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”

He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.

That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.

Let Jake try and beat that.

“Oi! Share!”

Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”

“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”

Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.

All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”

Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”

“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”

“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”

“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"

“Are you kidding me?”

Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.

He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.

“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”

He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.

Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.

Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.

It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.

“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”

He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.

Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”

The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.

“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.

The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”

“Jesus, man.”

Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”

The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.

He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.

Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”

It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.

“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”

Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”

They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.

It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.

In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—

Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.

And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.

[bbystark]

♡ hate needing you ♡

logan howlette (wolverine) x reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: you have daddy issues, logan just has issues. together you make quite the toxic combination. based on this request by @v3lv3tf0x

⚠︎ smut, including oral, p in v, etc. unhealthy relationship, very very very minor dubcon. angst :(

a/n: girl i haven't written smut in forever, i was in front of my computer for two hours sweatin. won't be proofreading since it's almost 5k words and mommy is tired. eat it up!!!!

You and Logan are in a dangerous cycle. You know he barely even tolerates you, probably only likes you for the release he gets, both literally and figuratively. You’re not any better, clinging onto him for attention, seeking his validation to soothe your insecurities. You don’t even get much from him, and that’s exactly the thing that made it so dangerous for you. He dangles just enough in front of you to reel you in, only to shove you back just out of arm's reach. 

Neither of you really realize it. At the surface you’re both aware you have a fair share of issues, things that you should really be working on as individuals. In the beginning of your toxic little dance Logan wanted nothing to do with it, and you similarly knew it was a dangerous path to head down. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It all really started the first moment you laid eyes on him. You were recruited by Charles, another traumatized mutant that could make a difference. You met Logan weeks after you’d moved into the mansion, coming back in the middle of the night smelling like whiskey and cigars. That alone had heat rising to your cheeks. You were in the kitchen in a cute pajama set, shorts riding up as you lounged on a chair and satisfied your midnight craving. When he walked into the kitchen doorway, massive shoulders making the frame seem small, you suddenly had a very different midnight craving. He was half glaring at you, still tipsy and angsty from his all-day bender. It sent a thrill through you, like you were being reprimanded. You felt the sudden need to be in his good graces, to replace his glare with a smile.  

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked while moving to the refrigerator and digging through the freezer. He pulls out a frost covered bottle of whiskey. 

“I’m y/n,” you watch as he sits across the table from you, chair protesting his weight. “y/n y/l/n. I started a few weeks ago.” 

He gives you a look, opening the bottle with his teeth and spitting the cork somewhere. You couldn’t help but stare. He takes it the wrong way in his hazy state, eyes connecting with yours as he takes several pulls from the bottle. 

“Got a staring problem? If you wanted some you coulda just asked bub.” He leans over the table, clumsily pouring a shot into your empty water cup. You blush a little, feeling silly as you take the cup and swirl the liquid around. It’s not at all what you wanted, but you felt like you had to impress him for some reason. 

He watched as you took a drink, eyebrows bunched together as you willed yourself not to spit it back into the cup. You coughed a little after it finally went down, wincing at the heat coating your throat. “That was disgusting.” 

He threw his head back and laughed. It’s deep and rich and suddenly you’re laughing too. “Shoulda known you couldn’t handle it, little thing like you in those cute little pjs. Doesn’t exactly scream whiskey lover.” 

You gave him a shy smile, and Logan tried very hard not to smile back, opting to take another swig of his “disgusting” whiskey instead. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Logan.” 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning Logan had woken up with a headache he knew would be gone within the next 15 minutes. He briefly recalls making it home, meeting you on his quest for more liquor. He’s almost embarrassed when he remembers he had laughed with you, even flirted a little. He had no interest in anything serious, not even a friend. He didn’t need one. 

He leaves his room in search of coffee and breakfast, almost startled when he saw you a few doors down. You happened to be leaving too, having an early training session. He can’t help but let his eyes wander, taking in your much too tight and very girly workout attire. He clears his throat when he finds he’s been looking at your ass a little too long, and you whip around. 

“Oh! Logan, hi. I didn’t see you there.” You notice he’s in the same clothes as last night. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” 

“Looks like it.” He’s not smiling, sober and more guarded than he was the night before. “Cute clothes.” 

He means it in a patronizing way, reverting back to his unpleasant demeanor. You don’t take it like that though, and everything in him is telling him to walk away when he sees pink dusting your cheeks. 

“Thanks Logan,” you’re beaming. “I’m running late so I should go, but I’ll see you around?” 

He doesn’t answer as you turn away and walk towards the gym. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It’s like that for weeks. You never have any substantial conversations, only running into each other for short moments where you give him twirls to show off your latest outfit or ask if he likes how you did your hair that day. Sometimes he snaps at you, says your braids look like a rats nest or your top is too bright. Other times he gives you small hums of appreciation, a quick “looks good”. You thrive for the validation, and he doesn’t notice that you’ve slowly stopped wearing the things that garner a sour reaction from him. 

He thinks you look pretty in everything, really, but he can’t stop himself from trying to put up a wall between you two, cutting off whatever ideas you have about being with him. He never goes too far, knows you take most of his insults as teasing, maybe even flirting. 

However, after a few weeks of your little back and forth he does take it too far. He’s a little too tipsy and a little too desperate, and when he knocks on your door, you answer a little too fast. You’re in a big tshirt and fuzzy socks, looking so fucking soft and innocent as you peer up at him. “Logan? Everything all right?” 

No, it wasn’t. He was drunk and angry about a lot of things, as usual. He desperately craved to not be angry, even if just for a second. He wanted something sweet and soft to bury himself into. That’s why he was here. He wasn’t dumb, even if you really didn’t know much about each other, he knew you had a crush. Knew you would say yes to whatever he asks. He feels bad that he’s here, but not enough to stop himself. 

“Logan?” His nostrils are flaring and he hasn’t moved an inch since you opened the door. You’re beginning to get nervous. Before you can process it, he’s crossed the space separating you in one large step and pulled you into him. You almost slam into his body, your hands landing on his chest. He weaves a hand into your hair on the back of your head and pulls, your mouth opening in shock. He uses it as an opportunity to lower his head to yours, looking into your eyes before smashing his lips to yours. 

It’s almost painful, the way he kisses you. But it’s also full of desperation and messy and neither of you can get enough. His tongue licks at your teeth and you surprise him by taking it in, sucking it gently. A low groan echoes in his chest, and you realize you’re throbbing already. He pulls away slightly, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip and slowly releasing. You open your eyes, getting a glimpse at his dark pupils before he promptly spins you around, one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip. He puts slight pressure on your shoulder, and you get the memo, slowly leaning forward until your front is flush with your mattress, your arms curled up on either side of you. 

The position is vulnerable, and you find yourself pressing your thighs together and squirming in nervousness. He hasn’t said a single word to you, and you’re already dripping, feeling almost uncomfortably moist in your panties. You meet his eyes, shivering when his hands start exploring the pudgy skin of your thighs. The eye contact is too much, and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You couldn’t believe you were here; you had fantasized about it plenty of times but now it was happening and it all felt so fast and yet not fast enough. The last thing you expected was him making the first move, you still weren’t convinced the man even like you. Yet here you were, bent over for him. 

  He pulls your shirt up and past your ass, an appreciative mumble falling from his lips when he discovers you’re only in panties. You can feel his callouses gently scrape your skin as he puts his hands on your ass, gently massaging. He takes his time, all other thoughts outside of fucking you slowly becoming silent. This is what he wanted, what he needed. A simple distraction. He spreads your cheeks lightly, and you clench around nothing when you feel a puff of air on your clothed folds. 

Logan’s cock is already half hard and twitching at the sight of you. Hell, he was chubbed the second he started kissing you. He chalks that up to his dry streak and not because it’s you he was kissing. Sweet little you, who’s ruined her panties, and he hasn’t even really acknowledged you. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears you whine and shift your hips closer to his face. “Please Logan. Want you.” You’re looking at him from the mattress, face flushed and lips puffy from his biting. You looked fucked out and all he’s done is kiss you. The thought spurs him on as moans lowly. He tears your panties from your hips, the sting of the fabric biting into skin almost too much in your needy state. They give easily, and his hands are back on your ass, spreading you open for him once again. This time he sees all of you, pretty folds glistening in the low light of your room and your clit uncomfortably swollen. 

It’s a sight Logan will remember for a long time. “Jesus love, all this for me huh?” 

Of course it was for him. You’d do anything he’d ask. Or didn’t ask, for christ sakes you were naked for him after the first kiss and no prior discussion. You didn’t care. Too lost in the high of what was to come. 

You give him a whimper, you were going to break if he didn’t give you some type of stimulation soon. “All for you Logan, always, please just touch me, fuck me, anything you want just- please- do something.” Your desperation paired with the arch in your back as you search for friction has him throwing all decorum out of the window. 

He licks from your clit to your dripping hole, nose dragging through the velvet wetness you’ve produced. He groans as he wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks for a few moments before returning to lapping at your folds. Your mind almost goes blank, tingles erupting throughout your body. One of your hands reach behind you blindly, trying to find some part of him to touch, keep you grounded. He notices and grabs your wrist, briefly pulling away from your sloppy cunt to grab your other wrist roughly, holding both in one hand as he continues eating you out like he’s starving. 

You whimper at the constrictions he’s put you under, fists opening and closing in time with your toes curling as he pushes you to your peak. Your hips start to move on their own accord, and he finds himself chasing your wetness with every jerk of your hips. He growls when you twitch away a tad too much. “Be a good girl and stay still.” 

You freeze immediately, and somehow even more blood rushes to your already puffy pussy. Good girl. You would be, you promised yourself. You’d be a good girl for him. 

He pats your ass at your obedience, fingers slowly finding a pace on your clit. You want to writhe around and give yourself more friction, but you don’t, you want Logan to see that you’re being good and listening. You feel two fingers drag through your folds and moan when he begins slowly pressing them into your warm walls. You can feel his knuckles catch and you let out a curse as his fingers curl and bump that special spot that makes you go cross-eyed. 

Logan is enraptured as he watches your hole flutter around his fingers, feeling a primal need to replace it with his cock. He curls his fingers over and over, watching your face as you whimper and moan into your sheets. His name falls from your lips, and he knows you're close. He pulls away then, your hips fall onto the bed, your knees wobbling. You’re about to protest until you see him reaching for his buckle, hastily pulling his belt from the loops then unzipping his fly. He shoves his pants down just enough to pull his cock out, hard and leaking. He gives himself a few pumps, squeezing at the base. You push yourself up, supporting yourself on your forearms as he puts one knee on the bed, leaning over you. 

You get a better view of him from here, tip a soft red and pretty veins swollen with need. You almost want to reach out and take over for him. He uses his free hand to grab your chin, pulling your face to look at him. “You ready for me princess?” 

You can only nod in response, teeth chewing on your lip nervously. His hand moves to wrap gently around your throat, hunching over to kiss you once more. Your neck strains as you try to kiss him impossibly deeper, craving the way he tasted. He’s the one who ends the kiss again, and you numbly wish you could just sit here and kiss him for hours. He pats your cheek smiling down at you. “Good girl.” 

He moves off the bed, grabbing your hips and manhandling you into an upright position again. You feel even more wetness leak from you at how effortless he can move you around. You gasp when his tip drags through your folds, head catching on your clit. He does this a few times while gathering your wrists into his hands once more, using his other to begin pressing his aching cock into your warm walls. The tip pops in, and you feel yourself clench, hard. He lets out a loud moan. 

“Fuck darlin, gonna strangle the damn thing.” You only moan in return and he smirks, using his hands that hold your wrists as leverage, pulling you back to sink onto his cock even further. 

You close your eyes at the stretch, the pain being just enough to blur into mind numbing pleasure and fullness. His hips are flush to yours now, and he presses himself into your ass even more, addicted to the feeling of being balls deep inside you. He pulls out slowly, before snapping his hips forward. Your whole body moves with the force, and he tightens the grip he has on your wrists. He sets an unrelenting pace, your moans almost drowned out by his grunts and occasional shouts of curses. 

You can feel every inch of him, adjusted to his size and clenching around him every time his balls slapped your clit. He releases your wrists in favor of grabbing your hips, slamming into them with a ferocity that you would feel in the morning. You’re far too turned on to care at the moment. 

“Fuck Logan, just like that, I’m close, please-” He silences you with a slap to your ass, mind going blank with need when he sees red blooming across the soft skin. You clench harder this time. He’s grunting with every hard thrust he makes. “C’mon good girl, give it to me.” 

That’s all it takes, your limbs go numb as your orgasm washes over you, euphoria blooming from your stomach and spreading to your fingertips. Logan roars as he finishes, hearing your name fall from his lips like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. He likes hearing your moans more than he would like to admit. 

His thrusts gradually slow, before coming to a stop, still twitching inside you as you go through the aftershocks. You catch your breath, panting and suddenly feeling very humid. He slips out of you carefully, almost tempted for round 2 when he catches a glimpse of his spend leaking from you. His head is starting to clear a little, and he realizes he’s put himself in an awkward position. 

You’re smiling up at him, pupils still blown and hair messy. He finds himself not knowing what to say to you. So, he doesn’t say anything, just pulls his pants up and goes to your bathroom, coming back out with a rag. He tosses it to you. You clean yourself up, also feeling slightly awkward. He’s sitting at the edge of your bed, watching you. 

“Do you wanna like, cuddle, maybe?” 

He gives you a look and you almost wish you hadn’t asked. He rolls his eyes and stands; you think he’s going to leave until he’s pulling back your duvet and jerking his head towards you. You comply immediately, feeling giddy. Logan knows he should leave. Not give you any more mixed signals than he already has. But the guilt is starting to wiggle back into his brain, and he can’t say no. 

He’s in jeans, and above the covers, but you’re comfortable regardless. Your head is on his chest, fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. You don’t say much to each other, but silently you’re happier than you have been in a long time. He came and seeked you out, fucked you good and hard, and now he’s (almost) cuddling you after. You’re over the moon. You fall asleep on his chest, satisfied and tired. 

He leaves almost immediately after your eyes close. You wake up the next morning feeling hollow. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan is afraid that night was like an invitation for more to you. The following weeks you’re stuck to him like glue, finding whatever room he’s in and sitting with him. “Accidentally” making too much dinner and forcing him to share a meal with you. You still ask him stupid questions, “do you like my nails?”, “look at my form, isn’t it better than last week?”, “do these shoes look dumb?”. 

It’s getting on his nerves. However, he does figure out the best way to get you to shut up is to get you on your knees with his cock down your throat.

Logan has shoved all guilt deep down, rationalizing his shitty behavior with the logic that you’re both using each other. It’s what he tells himself when he finds himself at your door multiple times a week half hard and in need of release. 

Then, once again, Logan takes it too far. He comes back from a mission with the X-men, already on edge after a disagreement with Scott. All he wants is to take off for a week with his motorcycle and drink so much his body will have to regenerate a whole new liver from scratch. He almost runs into you, too busy storming to his stash of whiskey to bother being aware of his surroundings. He instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling back, steadying you before letting go. 

“Logan! You’re back!” Your eager voice is too much for him right now. “I finally finished the book I stole from you, I really liked it! I was about to eat lunch if you want me to make you something and maybe we can talk-” 

“No.” Logan is glaring at you. 

“What?” 

“I said no kid. You’re up my ass 24/7, can’t even settle in after a mission without you finding me and being fucking annoying.” He’s snarling at you, face inches from yours and using his height to intimidate. It works, and you shrink into yourself.

“Logan I’m sorr-”

“Save it, your desperate little attempts at getting my approval are pathetic. Almost makes me feel sorry for you. Leave me the fuck out of it, I don’t want anything to do with you. You got that?” He doesn’t let you answer, pushing it out of his mind when he sees your eyes sparkle with tears. He continues stomping down the hall. 

You watch as he leaves, shocked tears making their way down your cheeks. You had no idea you had pushed things too far with Logan. Wasn’t he the one just a few short weeks ago pounding on your door and then pounding you without as much as a hello? You knew he would get irritated with you, make snippy comments and roll his eyes at you constantly. But without fail he’d always come back and make it up with a sweet smile the next day. This time was different. There was no teasing, no hint of affection hidden behind the insult. This time he was serious. 

He didn’t want you around. You feel the pressure of a panic attack coming on, putting a hand on your chest and pressing hard to try to hold it together. You knew this would happen. You put all your eggs into one basket and now you’re screwed. You didn’t mean to pin so much of your self worth onto Logan, but it was hard not to when a simple compliment from him had your confidence higher than it had ever been your entire life. Even the insults were addicting, deluding yourself into believing he wouldn’t tease you so much if part of him didn’t enjoy having you around. 

You feel stupid, and angry, angry that you once again put your trust into a man who didn’t care for it. Part of you wants to run after him, scream, cry, kiss him, anything to get him to see how he hurt you, get him to come back. You scoff at yourself. Fat chance. If he didn’t want you around, then you wouldn’t be around. 

Your panic has subsided for the moment, but you make your way to your room, feeling like a good cry in the comfort of your own space might help the pit in your stomach. Hours later, cried out and nursing a massive headache, you realize it didn’t help at all.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan hasn’t seen you in days. He tries not to think about it. He knows he snapped a little too hard, said some things he didn’t completely mean, but he figured you’d be over it now. That you’d stop pouting and find him, asking if he liked some stupid skirt or hair clip. He hates that he misses your little fashion shows. He caves, and eventually begrudgingly asks Scott if she’s seen you. 

“Y/n? Yeah I saw her a few hours ago getting food. Why? Finally figure out she’s avoiding you?” 

Logan bristles at that. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

Scott continues, pressing his luck. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what you said this time, but maybe next time you should be a man and let her down easy, or better yet, don’t lead her on in the first place. She’s hurt man, and that’s on you. Leave it alone for once.” 

Logan is dangerously close to starting a fight, claws inching out of his knuckles. Scott decided he’s made his point, and leaves without giving Logan a second glance. He has half a mind to follow the fucker, but he stays put. 

Scott thought that him saying something would be helpful, he didn’t know you all that well but from what Jean has told him, Logan has a way of leaving the worst kinds of marks on people. He figured if you wouldn’t stand up to Logan, maybe he could advocate on your behalf.

He doesn’t know that, if anything, Logan wants to deny the truth even harder now that Scott decided to act like he knew everything. He wants to believe the opposite of what Scott told him. You weren’t upset, you were just busy. He wasn’t leading you on, you knew what you were signing up for. What the fuck did Scott know? 

Leave it alone.

He should, he really should. For your sake. You might be overbearing and too excited at times, but you don’t deserve the way he treats you. He wishes he could do it, treat you right and be there for you. But he can’t, and there’s no use imagining it. There’s a mile-thick concrete wall around his perimeter, designed to keep him from experiencing the person he loves ripped away from him. He can’t go through that again. 

He wants to though; it makes him sick when he realizes. At some point between hours of animalistic sex and your soft smiles he had lost a little piece of himself to you.

 He goes into a blind rage, punching the wall behind him and slicing anything within arm's reach. He’s angry at himself for not walking away the first day he met you, for being drunk and stupid and making your first experience with him too pleasant. He could’ve ignored you, never even learned your name and kept it that way. But he didn’t. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he really was the one who started all of this.

Rather than take any responsibility or process his feelings, he finds himself marching to your room, footsteps heavy and rhythmic. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy again, doesn’t want to be angry at Scott or himself or the world. So, he’s back where he started, outside your door. 

You open it timidly, eyes dim and hair not put up like usual. You look depressed. You are depressed, not that you would tell him that. You feel numb as you stare up at him, having a good idea of why he was here. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into a hug. He lifts you slightly, walking you over to your bed and sitting down carefully, bringing you onto his lap. Your muscles are tense, he’s never hugged you before, it feels weirdly intimate. You can’t bring yourself to push him away. 

“M’sorry. M’so so sorry.” He whispers into your hair, smoothing the baby hairs sticking up with a gentle hand. You lose it when he kisses your forehead with more tenderness than you'd ever experienced. You’re softly crying, grasping onto his shirt and shoving your face into his chest. 

You don’t want to keep doing this over and over. You want to feel okay without Logan around, you don’t want to need him. Unfortunately, as he’s kissing his way down your neck and mumbling “Let me make it better, at least for a little while,” you don’t have it in you to break the cycle today.

[the-offside-rule]

Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover

Requested: yes

Swift Series

Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas

Warnings: nope

Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.

Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."

Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?

She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."

"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"

"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.

Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."

"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"

"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."

"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"

[slippery-minghus]

*sigh* it seems so silly compared to the gaping maw of depression i dealt with when i was young and the shit i've been through and grown to deal with so well, that i could possibly have seasonal depression... but then i look at how much i've been struggling since the days started getting shorter.

yeah, i could chalk it all up to the big changes in my life- changing jobs, my sweet bean chloe passing (a month, today)- but is that enough to have thrown my life into such unusual-for-me disarray?

my home is surprisingly clean, and the things slipping through the cracks are not from fatigue but from forgetfulness. it just hasn't crossed my mind to tidy the table. to bring the freezing plants inside. to cook for myself. not at any time that's helpful at least.

and in all of that i find myself actually wanting to be out and doing things. two weeks ago i started hiking, and all i want to do is be outside. to be in a different type of quiet from home. a different kind of stillness. and i can't parse how much of that is grief, how much is wanting every drop of sunlight, how much is wanting to... i don't know.

and i've been so forgetful. so forgetful. it's like i'm not even on this planet half the time, with how much slips my attention. and since chloe passed... the self depreciation has been hard to keep at bay. i've been talking to myself with more cruelty than i have in years. and every thing that slips my mind is more fuel for the fire. every typo i make another nail in my coffin. (and i make so many typos)

i've forgotten where i was going with this, beyond that now i want to cry, and i am so very tired. i feel like i havent been living my own life. and maybe that's grief. maybe it's seasonal depression. (i remember what this was about now) but it's been long enough since she passed, and i've been through so much that seasonal depression shouldn't be able to happen to me, that i really shouldn't be feeling this way. which only adds to the flame of self hate...

i dont know. i shouldn't let pathetic things like this wear me down so much. this is nothing compared to the hell i grew up in, and i think i've gotten awfully soft. ten years ago, this level of discomfort wouldn't have even been a blip on my radar. i shouldn't be so... pathetic