#Tumblin Out

[sun-marie]

I was looking through my blog and I realized I don't think I ever? actually posted my Azulow zine piece here? so. oops! 😅

But yeah, last year I had the pleasure to be part of this amazing Azulow zine, Pas de Deux, a digital zine dedicated to the FE Fates pairing Azura/Laslow, which is still available for download!

Please enjoy some Azulow Family fluff in this no-deeprealms AU <3

[nickfowlerrr]

💌 I am wondering about your thoughts on Lance Tucker 👀👀

i hate him so much but also i'm entirely obsessed with him and i love him.

he is so awful but so hot and god just the idea of him!! i mean can you imagine him degrading you and just being so fucking mean while he has his way and takes you any way he pleases???

and he no doubt has a praise kink, so he'll force you to be vocal, too. he wants to hear how good he makes you feel, and he wants to hear you cry out how much you love being used by him.

and he just gets cockier and cockier each time your walls involuntarily squeeze his throbbing length impossibly tighter as he fucks you from behind, his big hands gripping your waist, grabbing at your doughy hips and belly as he gropes you feverishly, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust as your ass slaps against his hips, the room filled with the wet sounds of your fucking, his growls and taunts, your broken moans and mutterings of indescribable pleasure as he calls you a disgusting, pathetic whore for letting him fuck you, again and again. for begging for his big dick to fill up your tight little hole, for wanting him to cum inside you because you're so fucking desperate for every bit of him you can get.

and he fucking loves it when you agree, because you know as well as he does exactly what you are. what you are for him. because you're not just a slut, you're his slut. and as you collapse on his bed, thoroughly worn and leaking him, he smirks as you glare at him when he slaps your ass. you can play off you hate him all you want, but he sees the way you shoot daggers into him and any woman he so shamelessly flirts with near you, he feels you, on nights like these, when you're in bed with him and you think he's asleep. he feels you crawl closer to him, feels when you rest your head on his chest, feels when you snuggle into him.

he lets you think he doesn't, but he does.

and look, he's not one for commitment. he doesn't do all that lovey dovey stuff. but maybe there's something to be said about just how much he enjoys nights like these...and the way he's almost excited to pretend to be sleeping next to you, waiting for you to find him and wrap him in the warmth only you can provide him.

and maybe there's something to be said about the lack of other women he's brought home these past few months, not that you needed to know who he spends his time with, but still, he finds himself wanting to brag about it to you. just so you know how lucky you should feel to be the only one in his bed, no other reason, of course.

and he knows come morning, odds are you'll be gone by the time he wakes up. or, like the past few mornings, maybe you'll stay just a little longer, maybe have some breakfast. but he isn't concerned either way. because he knows, just as well as you do, that you'll be back tonight. and like every other night for the past week straight, you'll be in his bed.

right where he wants you.

right where you want to be.

right where you belong.

[winesoakedwool]

thinkin about critical role c3 culminating in the intermingling of three different groups of heroes from different generations representing a complex coalition of the divine, infernal, and apathetic coming together to combat a plot devised and carried out over a century, whose success or failure may take many forms, but all of which promise a new world order born out of the suffering of many

[that-thoughtful-waffle]

Ive been gone 7 months wdym I didn't miss anything

[singmetheblues]

Well, I rolled and I tumbled and cried the whole night long.

[carelessplum]

I talked about tumblr and explained Goncharov to my co-workers at lunch today 🤭

[number3]

Happy 3rd to whatever the fuck this was

what a week huh?

[shotmrmiller]

kinktober: cockwarming (john price x reader x simon in underground fighter au)

You're no fan of real-time violence.

Movies can never replicate its visceral reality— the sharp metallic tang that clings to the air, mingled with salt and the bitter stench of the swill these local colors call beer. Even worse is having to be the one to patch Simon up with trembling, blood-slick fingers and your molars sunk into the thick of your tongue to keep your lunch where it belongs.

So when Simon sends you Price's way with a firm palm on your arse and his spit still warm on your lips, you're grateful. He'll keep ya busy.

You're not counting his blood money, if that's what he was thinking.

"Course not, love," Price says, the rings on his thick fingers glinting under the dim light overhead as he opens the door to his office. It smells of worn leather, polished wood, and layered on top is the heady aroma of tobacco, rich, unmistakable. (You will not stay if he lights one of those puppies up. You like your lungs how they are.)

"Tha's wha' the bill counter is for." You can feel the warmth of his palm seeping through your clothes— a steady presence at the base of your spine, guiding you forward with a subtle push.

You'd expected him to let you pluck a book off the well-stocked shelf that's been beckoning you since you laid eyes on it and curl up on his couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders. Maybe even chat you up with small talk, ask about your week, school/job, and how you were adjusting to this new life.

Not with his broad front curling around your back, breath warming the shell of your ear, while you stare at the smooth, raised skin on his knuckles— which is less furry than the rest of him— in hopes that you don't fall apart around the thick of his cock. He's got a hand flat on the desk, small finger slanting to the side probably from where it healed wrong, and the other's signing off paperwork you couldn't even try to understand with a clear mind, much less one that's spinning from the sheer want for friction, relief.

Your arse pulses hot from where he'd reprimanded you earlier for squirming too much.

"Quite obedient. Simon's taught ya well." He hisses when you tighten up involuntarily, indignation cutting through the sluggish heat you've been burning in at his remark. Obedient. Taught. As if you're some kind of lap dog, yipping and rolling over for a treat. (Or in this case, a cock.)

"Easy, love. Jus' a joke." The hand he'd had on the desk comes to squeeze at the meat of your ribs, a small gesture, before weaving down to your cunt, fingers spreading, feeling how well split you are around his length, lips spread wide. "I'd hate f'you to turn my own guard dog against me, eh?" His apology comes in jerky little circles, smearing slick over your neglected clit, coarse hair of your mons coated milky white.

Each stroke of his fingers only bows your spine, winding it like one would a key on the back of a doll, your muscles coiling with tension, bodily response not your own after being denied release for god knows how long.

The sharp tap on the door goes completely unnoticed by you, but not Price. His pace remains steady, continuous, as Simon walks in through the door with crimson peppered on his cream wifebeater.

"John." Through bleary eyes, you see Simon settle in the chair across from you both, legs long, knuckles angry red and swollen as he palms himself over his denim. "Gaz may or may not 'ave goaded Soap into a fight."

Price's hand stops abruptly, desperation clogging your throat, the coil beneath your navel cranked so tight you might just scream. His voice rattles you from behind. "And?"

Simon's got his jeans bunched to his knees now, cock resting heavy atop his thighs, quads' ridges shifting as he gets comfortable. He might just be a tad bigger than what you've got sitting snugly against the plug of your womb.

"They're tumblin' outside, among civil folk. I doubt gettin' 'em out will be as painless this time 'round."

Price snarls and you find yourself empty, straddling Simon's hips, your inner thighs burning at the width. "Bloody fuckin'—," the sound of his belt buckle peters off soon after he walks out the door.

Your hands can feel Simon's shoulders flexing as he runs a fist up his length, eyes heavy lidded and focused on the creamy slick dampening your curls. His cock sits long on your stomach.

"'ave a seat, then." Amusement curls his lip, usual pink scar on his lip stretched silver. Your knees don't reach the cushion he's on properly, so you place your feet right above his own for leverage, legs folded tight.

His fingers dimple your waist as you lower yourself onto him, breath rushing out of your lungs as he fills you, aching, burning, a stretch you'll never really get used to, the pinch deep in your core causing discomfort to clump your lashes together until you're flush against him.

"Sit real pretty now. Gotta wait f'r Price t'give me my earnin's."

You're gonna rip his ear off with your teeth if you don't get to come soon.

"Claws in," he mutters, thumbing your pebbled nipple through your shirt. "Won't be too long."

(It was too long but worth every bloody second in the end.)

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[entertainment]

just tumblin' in with Dallas Liu and Ian Ousley to check out some Avatar: The Last Airbender fanart (and potentially inspire some new art??)

[zaldritzosrose]

Can't Stay Away (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)

Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a flirt, hot and heavy making out, fingering, lashings of sexual tension.

I've taken a couple of liberties with the veils the Bene Gesserit/Irulan seem to wear - making it an honour to see a Sister/Princess' face and given meaning to the paint on Feyd before the arena...because why not it's my story!

(There will be a part 2...maybe 3...I have no self control)

Words: 3508

THANK YOU to @tumblin-theworldaway for not only being patient over this but for listening to my months of related brain rot! I love you!

Being second to the Imperial heir had not always felt like a task. As a child, you did not mind being sent off to other tasks while Irulan was coached in the ways of an Empress. Your father had you both trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, and as a child it made you feel incredibly important. Being at the Reverend Mother’s side, and at times the only time you were ever praised for something you had achieved.

But the older you got, the more the feeling of being ignored crept in. Men would seek out Irulan's favour, not yours. Visitors would spend hours speaking to the elder princess before speaking to you. Irulan was the interesting one. She was heir, it made sense for her to be the one they wished to gain the favour of.

Second daughter, second best. You understood it, deep down, but that did not stop the hurt it caused.

Despite this, you always accompanied your father and sister on the planetary tours, following along as the Emperor would visit all his people and be lavished with grand feasts and parties as a welcome. Every House from Arrakis to Zanovar were granted a visit from their Emperor, some were happier about it than others.

Despite the tensions on Arrakis, the word of the ‘Messiah’ reaching the Emperor’s ears and being ignored and the rumours that the Emperor had ordered the end of House Atreides, the Imperial Tours continued.

Giedi Prime was the next stop. The home of the Harkonnens. You had heard of the Harkonnens. Fearsome warriors. Terrifying. Bloodthirsty. Brutal. In all honesty, they had fascinated you for the longest time. The manipulations that led to their rise. Their bloodstained history with House Atreides. You had read as much as you had been able to find.

And their welcome? A tournament, a battle of strength and brutality to impress their Emperor. Harking back to days of old when knights would compete in feats of battle prowess to show off. Men from all the Great Houses and more came to compete, including Feyd-Rautha. The Baron's nephew did not hesitate to volunteer to represent his people in something so prestigious.

The Imperial Ship landed and you, your sister and the Emperor were quickly greeted by the Baron and his nephews. You stood to your father’s left, Irulan at his right. Feyd’s eyes stayed on you, though you had not noticed yet. Trailing from the gold and pearl veil over your face, down to the matching white lace and gold dress that both clung and flowed over your body perfectly. He glanced briefly at Irulan, her silver and chainmail contrasting you, but his eyes ultimately returned to you.

"Your Imperial Graces, may I introduce my nephews," the Baron began, gesturing first to his elder nephew and then the younger as he spoke.

"Beast-Rabban and Feyd-Rautha."

Both men bowed, following their uncle's lead. First to the Emperor, then Irulan and then you. The order of importance seemed clear, as usual. But as his head raised, Feyd met your gaze and held it. Cool blue eyes boring into yours and you could not look away.

Your father nodded his head in thanks as did Irulan, but you...

You still stared at Feyd. Something about him, the way he held your gaze. The faint smirk forming on his lips. You could not do anything but stare.

His smile widened, black painted teeth on show as he stepped forward and taking your hand in his, a gesture that shocked even you. His lips found the back of it, pressing a surprisingly gentle but lingering kiss to your skin. No one ever focused on you like this, not when you stood by Irulan. It was something you had gotten quite accustomed to.

But the rough scratch of his fingers around yours, the heat of his lips on your skin, was enough to have you blushing. Then he spoke. His voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess."

The Emperor and the Baron led you, Irulan and the Baron’s nephews back inside the Harkonnen fortress. Despite trying not to, your focus always seemed to return to Feyd. The way he moved with confidence, the small glances he gave you with that smirk still on his lips.

Irulan was at your father’s side, as usual. Rabban walked beside the Baron. Which left you and Feyd behind that line. You were not purposely walking at his side, but you soon noticed that Feyd had fallen into step with you. Slowing his pace to match yours.

You kept your gaze forward, but you could feel his eyes on you. Like a predator and you were no more than prey. You knew you would be the one to break the silence before Feyd did.

“Are you looking forward to the tournament, Feyd?” You asked, glancing to the side to see him, as expected, staring at you as he walked.

Feyd hummed low in response before answering. You began to wonder how he was being so mindful of where he was going, whilst keeping his eyes on you.

“A fight is always welcome, princess. Are you excited for it?”

You did not answer immediately. No answer you gave, you felt, was ever interesting enough. Or at least, not in your past experiences. But, to your surprise, Feyd seemed genuinely interested.

“I am intrigued, to say the least. It is not often a House welcomes us with such an event.”

Feyd only nodded, before holding out his hand to stop you moving further forward. It was only then that you noticed you had reached the doors to the Harkonnen fortress. You had been so distracted by the man beside you, you had ignored your surroundings.

“After you, princess,” Feyd offered, holding out an arm to allow you to walk ahead.

You walked on, hearing Feyd’s boots against the floor behind you. Your father, sister and the Baron and his nephew were ahead of you. And your father had not looked back once to check on you, something you were well used to. But Feyd had noticed too.

His head tilted in curiosity but said nothing on the topic. He followed you inside, eyes glancing occasionally between you and your father, noticing the seemingly longing look you held. As the Baron led the Emperor and Irulan into the dining hall, you seemed to hang back, like you were waiting for permission to follow them.

When that did not come, you folded your hands before you and turned from the door.

“Are you not joining them?” Feyd asked, genuinely surprised at the situation.

Your head hung low, and you simply shook it.

“Not if I am not invited. Irulan is heir, not I,” You said simply and began walking away without a second glance.

You assumed Feyd would join his uncle and brother. But the sound of footsteps behind you told you otherwise. You did not look back as you walked, though in truth, you had no idea where you were walking to. You simply wished to be away. Feyd followed silently, only interfering when he felt the need to steer you somewhere specific.

“Princess, follow me, I have somewhere more comfortable you could wait over walking the halls?”

Feyd was not sure why, but he felt the need to be at your side. A strange draw that seemed to tug at his gut and keep him at your side. He was a man of pleasure, or so most people said. He held little care for the feelings of others.

Yet with you, he wanted to know. No, he needed to know. To know what bothered you. To know why your eyes dipped to the floor after looking at your father and sister. Why you seemed surprised from the moment he paid you attention upon your arrival. He was curious as to why you seemed to try to hide your presence at any given moment.

But he said nothing. He would not even know where to begin if he wanted to. Instead, he walked in silence, leading you to a wide balcony that looked out on to the expanse of Giedi Prime.

You took your seat and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence until you were called by one of your father’s attendants.

You listened politely as you walked beside your sister, Irulan’s arm linked with yours this time as you followed your father and the Baron towards the arena. Irulan talked on about how the tournament would work, that you, her and some other noble ladies from the Houses would choose their own champion to fight the tournament in their name.

It reminded you of the tourneys of old. Where knights fought for princesses and ladies to win favour. You had read so many stories, fairytales of times that were now a faraway memory. The idea fascinated you as much as the Harkonnens did. You were about to ask Irulan more, when your father turned to speak. To both of you, for once.

“My daughters, you will allow the ladies from the Great Houses to choose their champions, then you will choose.”

That confused you both, but you had little choice but to agree. He was the Emperor first, your father second.

You watched warriors from each Great House and some minor Houses line up before you, Irulan and the other gathered ladies with interest. And you could not hide your smile when Feyd stepped forward and joined them.

One by one, champions were picked. Irulan chose first out of the two of you, not surprisingly choosing a Corrino soldier as her champion. There were more warriors than ladies to choose, and Feyd remained in those waiting. That surprised you. He was known for his fighting ability, so you did not understand why he had not been chosen. Which only solidified your own choice.

“Princess, your choice of champion please?” the Harkonnen announcer asked, gesturing to the men before you.

Purely for the suspense, you paused before answering. Mere seconds, allowing you to enjoy the small amount of attention focused solely on you.

“I choose Feyd-Rautha.”

Everyone looked shocked, including your father and sister. Everyone, but Feyd. His smirk wide as he stepped forward, taking your hand as he had when you arrived. Eyes locked to yours as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

“I shall win well for you, my princess.”

You were not sure if it was traditional, but Feyd had asked you to see him before the tournament. A guard led you silently to a round chamber, with only a black stone table in the centre, holding weapons of different kinds. You stood out so starkly against the black stone, the faint lights making the pearls on your veil shimmer ever so slightly.

Feyd was stood in the centre, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks you realised he wore only an intricately wrapped loin cloth.

“Princess, I appreciate you agreeing to come,” Feyd called as he strode to your side.

He smirked as he watched you avert your gaze from his bare chest. In his hand, he held a bowl of what looked like black paint. It was only when he tapped the stone bowl did your eyes find it. You looked back at him curiously.

“You are my champion, it would be rude not to,” you said softly, your eyes still looking at the bowl.

It was only then that you noticed there was no one else in the room. Something that seemed extremely unusual.

“Do you normally prepare for a fight alone?” you asked, eyes flitting around the room and back to him, now trained solely on his face.

Feyd chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that you found yourself wanting to hear again.

“No, usually I am surrounded by servants and guards. But I thought I would try something different today. It’s a special day after all.”

He held the bowl up, tipping it slightly to move the paint. Your eyes watched it with interest, it slowly dawning on you what it was for. You had read up on the Harkonnens and Giedi Prime before you arrived, there was more lore to research than you had anticipated. One thing, now, came to your mind.

“Am I to paint you, Feyd?”

That earned you another chuckle. Though Feyd was actually quite surprised you knew of any Harkonnen traditions.

“I thought it would be interesting, to prepare your champion for battle, hmm?” he asked, holding the bowl out to you, careful however not to get the ink black liquid on your white dress.

You nodded, confusing him when you turned away from him. But what you did next, was not what he expected. Slowly, you lifted the veil that had covered your face since your arrival. Finally revealing your full appearance to him.

And you were beautiful.

“Then I suppose it is only fair I let you look at me while I do so.”

What Feyd did not realise, was the importance of what seemed like a small gesture. Almost all those trained by the Bene Gesserit veiled themselves in some way. The Princesses most of all. But Feyd knew even now, he was being honoured by you.

“Thank you, princess.” Was all he could manage, any words he said would never be quite enough, he felt.

You returned to his side, only now looking down at the full form of him. Thick muscle covered him from shoulder and down. A body sculpted for war, it seemed. And it was now a body that would fight in your name.

Feyd held out the bowl, watching with curious eyes as you took it and moved to stand at his back. He opened his mouth to instruct you but was stopped by the cold sensation of paint on his skin. You felt him stiffen a little and continued to paint as you explained.

“I have done my research before coming here. My father always tells me it is best to know our hosts,” you said simply, as if that should be enough to explain why you so easily began painting him.

He said nothing as you finished his back, the feeling of the paint drying telling him where you had painted each square and line. It fascinated him that you had so quickly learned the symbols necessary.

But when you moved to his front, he felt a wave of anticipation run through him. Tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he waited for you to begin. He could feel the warmth of your hands more intensely now he could see you.

You started on his chest, painting the four thick lines on his pectorals first. He watched the concentration on your face, the way your teeth gently nibbled your lower lip as your made sure every stroke was perfect.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you did not dare look up. The whole situation was intimate enough, without meeting his gaze. Feyd heard the soft breath you took to prepare yourself as you moved lower, pausing only briefly before you began to paint his stomach.

“Do you really believe these help you?” you suddenly asked, as though distracting yourself from the path your fingers took over the ridges of hid abdominals.

Feyd’s jaw clenched at the gentleness of your touch, the feeling sending goosebumps over his pale skin. He did his best to concentrate on answering your question about the symbols.

“It is the belief in them that makes them important, so yes, I do.”

You hummed in response, and Feyd’s breath caught in his throat when you began to kneel as your painted nearer his hips.

The tension in the air was thick. No sounds in the room except the scrape of your fingers against the bowl and the soft puffs of your combined breathing. Feyd tried his best to concentrate solely on the paint being smeared on his skin, but having you so close had desire settling in his belly.

Soon, you were done.

“There, I hope I have done a good enough job…” Feyd smiled at the mix of hope and pride in your eyes. But when you moved to take your hand away from his skin, he grabbed it quickly. His body acting on instinct and the words leaving him before his brain could control them.

“Would I be too forward in asking for a kiss, princess. For luck?”

You were struck silent by the question, but an aching part of you began urging you to allow him one kiss. No harm could come from it, right?

Tentatively, you stepped forward after setting bowl down on a table nearby. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek, letting them linger for mere seconds. But that was not what Feyd wanted.

You had barely stepped back before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He revelled in the small squeak of surprise that left you and he appreciated the fact you were not trying to push him away.

Your face was mere inches from his as his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to his as he pressed him plump lips to yours. The feeling was electric the moment your lips met, your own hand gripping the back of his neck. Not caring for the paint that was now smeared down the skin there.

You pressed yourself harder against him, letting your body mould to his as he deepened the kiss. Tongue swiping against the flesh of your lip, asking for entry which you happily granted. The moment his tongue found yours, Feyd was like a man possessed. Gripping your face tighter as your tongue soon surrendered to his, tangling together in a clash of teeth.

The paint on his body, barely dried, smeared against your dress but you could not have cared less. Your only thoughts were Feyd. The feel of his arm on your waist and hand on your face. The taste of him, combined with the black paint on his teeth. You were entirely intoxicated by him.

You were not sure when he had backed you towards the table, but you did not stop him when he lifted you quickly on to it. There was something so delicious about the danger of the whole situation. While realistically, you barely knew him, you could feel your body surrendering to every kiss and touch. The very fibres of you desperate to feel more of him already.

Feyd groaned into your mouth when you made space for him to slip between your legs, your dress parting either side to accommodate the movement. His hands took purchase your thighs while yours found his shoulders. Your paint-stained fingers leaving fingerprints all over his alabaster skin.

The room felt like it had heated as his lips began to trail down your jaw and to your neck, following a path until he reached the swell of your breasts, just visible with the cut of your dress. His hands kneading the flesh of your thighs, the combination forcing breathy moans to slip from your lips.

Feyd revelled in every one of them. The dig of nails into his shoulder when he nipped at your collarbone, the soft moan when his hands found the apex of your thighs and squeezed.

“I will win for you, my princess…” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck as his fingers continued their path to your core.

And you were powerless to stop him, your body listening now solely to your base instincts. The first brush of his fingers over your underwear had your head falling back.

“Win for me, and I will reward you…” you sighed out, as his fingers slipped deftly beneath the fabric.

Feyd could barely concentrate on your promise, slipping his fingers further and further between your folds until he was buried to the knuckles. The smallest curl of the digits had you moaning his name.

“Reward me how?” he asked, already feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your release crept forward.

He could barely help himself, thrusting and curling his fingers over and over. Feeling the soft gush of your slick coating his fingers and palm with each movement.

You could hardly form words, Feyd’s fingers somehow speeding up again. You could only moan as you release surprised you, tugging Feyd by neck to kiss him as you spilled around his fingers.

He slowed his movements as you relaxed, not pulling them out until he could feel your muscles stop spasming. Your jaw went slack as you saw him reach for the bowl of paint, mixing your juices with the black liquid and painting over the now smudged symbols you had adorned him with. The smug grin on his face making your skin tingle.

You slowly came back to yourself, eyes meeting his as you finally answered.

“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”

Dune Taglist (requested and people I know who like Dune):

@blissfulphilospher @tumblin-theworldaway

@lady-phasma @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe @alexagirlie

(if you want to be tagged in or removed from future posts, let me know!)

[jobean12-blog]

https://www.tumblr.com/mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler/764923950712143872

Miss Jo! Pretty please can we have something with Javi or Marcus or Joel based on this post? With a cherry on top? Kthxbye!!! 🩷😘

Worth the Wait

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Since the moment you and Marcus have met it's been charged and when you finally get the chance to act on it, it explodes.

Author's Note: This isn't necessarily part of my usual Marcus and princess/wife reader story. This is just what I want. HAHA! And when @tumblin-theworldaway shared the incredible photo below with me and then @blackwidownat2814 shared this incredible post with me, I knew I had to do something because I literally cannot with this man. Anyway, thank you to my dear friends mentioned above for sharing and thirsting with me, I love and appreciate you and thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: there is definite softness, lots of tension, it's hot and heavy and they can't get enough of each other smut- all of it. He's so yummy I might die.

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

His skin is on fire.

You can feel your pulse in your throat as you stare.

It’s hard to breathe. To think.

He looks up and down the length of your body, your perfection reflected in the heat shining in his eyes.

There’s no sound other than the mix of your heavy breathing and then he steps closer.

The heat of his body so close to yours makes your voice come out thick. “General.”

Just the sound of the accolade on your lips tips him into desperate hunger.

A long stretch of silence passes where he just looks at you, staring, eyes fixed on yours. But it’s not static. It’s a transition in his expression from unbridled desire to sincerity, and it steals your breath.

“Are you hard General?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

A gasp catches in his throat, and he swallows.

“Are you wet?” he counters.

A small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth and your attention shifts to his lips. It’s intentional, the way your eyes take forever as you look at his nose, his cheeks and then his lips again.

“Are you thinking of kissing me?” you ask him.

He stares right back at your mouth.

You lean in and press your lips to his warm, soft, and then you suck before a gentle bite, one that makes a rough growl roll up his throat.

He stretches forward and his large palms cup your face. Your hands fist into the lush fabric of his tunic and the kiss turns explosive.

The feel of his hands, his lips…you perceive it in every part of you and you want him to devour you.

As if sensing your urgency, he pulls back and takes your hand, gently tugging you away from hidden shadows and toward his chambers.

He watches as you walk over to his bed and slowly unravel the toga from your body. It slides off your skin, revealing your nakedness inch by inch.

His expression is full of awe, and he waits only a moment, savoring the sight of you, before he moves with slow but purposeful steps until his chest brushes yours with his ragged breathing.

Your name is an urgent whisper on his lips, and you reach up to carefully pull his cloak free of his broad shoulders. Piece by piece you undress him, your hands sure and deliberate but still trembling with the feel of his warm skin beneath your fingers.

Your fingertips trace the outline of his face, the rough hair that lines his jaw, the angle and slope of his nose, and the soft plushness of his lips. You stretch into him, pressing your bare chest to his, and he lets out a shaking groan, sliding his hand down your side to grasp your hip.

He lays you on his bed and settles between your legs, taking your knee and pulling your leg over his hip.

You can feel him against you, rigid and hot.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

“It’s all I want Marcus.”

His mouth drops to your collarbone, tracing the delicate outline, then your neck, where his lips play along your skin as they move upwards toward your chin. He nibbles lightly then soothes the spot with his tongue.

Your head cranes back with a silent plea for more and he gives it to you. The scratch of his beard ignites your skin, and the softness of his lips relieves it as he sweeps his mouth over your jaw to nibble your chin again, a hot trail of lips and teeth.

“Gods woman…”

He cuts himself off when his mouth finds yours already open and searching for his. You grip the back of his neck, urging him to kiss you harder, to touch you.

The sound you make when his thumb slides across your nipple is nearly one of pain and he does it again, and again, in small, pressing circles.

Your heart pounds beneath his hand as he holds you there for his mouth and bends, sucking wetly, biting sharply, and his hips press forward and back, pushing himself right up against your clit until you’re scratching at his shoulders trying to get his weight to push you into the soft cushions, push your legs apart, push into you.

You let your hand slip between your bodies, grasping at his silken skin, and stroke him. He begins to move forward and back, lips distracted and hungry over yours.

You’ve spent weeks with him, stealing glances and staring, soft touches when no one is looking, dreaming about what’s beneath his robes; the slowest most torturous foreplay, and there’s a fever under your skin that makes you impatient.

And he’s unable to remain still over you, stubbly jaw razing across your sensitive nipples as he kisses down your ribs. He fumbles between you, his fingers sliding lower and easily into you. His thumb grazes your clit over and over and you’re so swollen, desperate, and pushing up off the bed so he can reach deeper with his long, thick fingers.

His cock brushes against your thigh and then his hand disappears and he’s there, closer, and with a small, synchronized gasps he’s pushing forward and sliding into you.

“Oh Gods,” he says. And “fuck me,”

It turns into a frenzy. He’s moving. Not just moving but absolutely fucking you. So deep. In and out, groaning into your neck.

He plants his knees into the mattress and moves, there is nothing but the sound in the darkness around you; the iron railings of the bed creaking in protest and his grunting and moaning as he fucks you, fast and messy.

His calloused fingertips slip over your chin and mouth, and he follows with his tongue and teeth. Your hands are everywhere, his chest, his hips, his stomach.

The words that start to slide from your parted lips are cut off by pleasure. You’re begging with unintelligible sounds for him to keep doing whatever he’s doing that’s so good. You’re screaming under him, his rhythm frantic through your release and you’re amazed at how he looks, moving over you.

You’ve seen him stand tall and strong over everyone else in the room, seen his face light and careless with a laugh crinkling the corners of his eyes, and seen his rath, expression hard and face bloodied from battle.

But you’ve never seen him like this. Naked, damp with sweat, with his hands propped beside your neck as he stares down the length of your bodies, watching himself. Arms flexed, lip caught between his teeth, relishing the sight of him slipping in and out of you.

“I can’t,” he murmurs. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

He bends, his curls falling over his face and brushing your forehead. His mouth moves to yours and then down, sucking at your jaw while his hips slow to a gentle rock but still he pushes so deep.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asks. “Wanted you?”

You smile into his neck before kissing it gently.

“For as long as I have,” you admit. “From the moment we first saw each other.”

He grabs your hip, holding you in place and kissing your shoulder, his lips moving up your neck, to your ear. “Since that moment, yes. But I think even before that…”

He begins to move harder, in earnest, with firm hands and the deep shove of his body in yours and his unapologetically wild mouth.

Every thrust pulls a hoarse grunt from his throat, and he tilts your hips, greedy for more, while his fingers slip between you to rub. You can tell he knows how close you are when he pulls back to watch, his eyes so close to yours, teeth pressed to your jaw as he growls out tiny sounds of encouragement.

You close your eyes under the weight of your orgasm, but he bites down on your chin, hissing a low warning, “open,” and grabbing your ass to pull you harder against him.

Your release explodes around him, and he gasps your name, hips faltering and then gaining speed before he grunts into your neck and you feel him shake over you, pushing deep and spilling inside you.

His breath is warm and rapid against your neck, his hand sliding up over your breast and down your waist, along the curve of your hip, your thigh, and back again, over, and over.

He meets your gaze and kisses you once, softly, before pulling out. You watch as he grabs a cloth by the beside and cleans you, his touch gentle, even though there’s so much man to his movements, to him; the shadow of hair below his navel, the muscular line of his shoulders and the way his large hands slide down over your stomach and between your legs before he lays back down next to you.

You love the possessive flat plane of his palm, the confident command of his fingers when he touches you.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs into your neck.

“I’m more than,” you answer, trembling under his light caresses.

He nods and kisses your collarbone, lightly tracing a trail of kisses up your neck. He lingers at your chin, and you feel him smile into your skin.

“What?” you ask, feeling your own smile grow.

“I left marks,” he nearly growls, his cock already an urgent presence against your thigh again, heavy and pressing.

Already, again, it feels feral, grabbing and biting. He flips you onto your stomach, sliding his cock between your legs as he sucks on the back of your shoulder. His touch is frantic but somehow assured. There’s no ‘can I?.’ No ‘do you want.’

He lifts your hips, thighs bracketing yours, and pushes back into you, groaning at the warmth, the softness, and the view he has from behind you.

Your sounds are wild and desperate, and his hands are curled tightly around your hips.

It’s too much.

You need more.

“It’s too good,” he grates out. “You are perfection.”

His hips circle, tender then brutal, making you cry out before he hits deep, and you clench around him. He comes again, the curls that frame his forehead sticking to the drops of sweat.

He falls heavily over you, but quickly wraps you up in his arms and turns you both over, tucking himself behind you.

His lips press to your neck, voice thick with sleep and emotion.

“The day has been long, and my body craves sleep but nothing more than you. I don’t know how long I can rest knowing you’re here. In my bed.”

You hum in agreement, smiling into the corded muscles of the arm he’s tucked under your neck and wrapped around you.

“I’ll wake wanting more,” he whispers, partly rueful and partly in warning.

“And I will always give it you.” You mutter the words before your eyes close and your breathing steadies in rhythm with his.

[sammy8d257]

"There's a room where the light won't find you, Holding hands while the walls come tumblin' down, When you do I'll be right behind you

So glad we've almost made it, So sad they had to fade it,

Everybody Wants to Rule the World~"

-Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears

And here it is! The long awaited AvA "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" MAP is complete!

I can't believe it's out for everyone to watch. It was such a delight to work with everyone on this project and I can't even begin to imagine how excited everyone is to finally see the results of all their hard work!

40 parts with 35 participants! And you know what? Everyone absolutely kicked it out of the park

Please take the time you check out everyone's credits below and give them your support!

In a separate post I'll share the MAP Call image, the Thumbnail, and the Credits image without their words because I think they make great backgrounds!

And I hope you enjoy this crowning MAP!

Credits (Check out the Video Description for Full Credit Links!):

Intro & Part 23: Sammy8D257 (yours truly)

Part 1: Pegg @sticksfight

Part 2 & 20: Mary @mary-games-and-arts

Part 3 & 13: NivousNiv @nzn43

Part 4: Rubtix @rubtix-a-betz

Part 5: zkylearnstherope @zkylearnstherope

Part 6: AveryBug [Youtube]

Part 7: Whirld @whirld-of-color

Part 8: Sticky @sticks-without-stones

Part 9 & 25: Vita1/Galactic Bastard [Youtube]

Part 10: Wildcrest [Youtube]

Part 11: Eclipnet @eclipnet

Part 12: Urantum [Youtube]

Part 14: Danrishy @danrishy-ava

Part 15: Marsh @marshmallowart

Part 16: Lara Prisma @lara-prisma-avm-ask-blog

Part 17: Jack What-Stasis @what-stasis

Part 18: KikoQueenoftheRats @kikoqueenofrats

Part 19: dazeyyt [Youtube]

Part 21 & 33: Maechery @maechery

Part 22: Ghosty [Youtube]

Part 24: Reptilia @reptilia0freptiles

Part 26: FireflyFlareNight @fireflyflarenight

Part 27: Ella @ellathebirb

Part 28: Celentinel [Youtube]

Part 29: Ravienski [Youtube]

Part 30: Wxlfy @wolfydoesstuff

Part 31: Oaks @veryoaki

Part 32: Sabre @sabretoothedhorse @ohhhsosleepy

Part 34: Flanik @flanik

Part 35: Theo/Purple @cindersnows

Part 36: Yumesz [carrd]

Part 37: Jadeactuallysucks @jadeactuallysucks

Part 38: Storge @storgicdealer

Outro: Allu @allunary (w/ bkgs help from NivousNiv)

Thumbnail Credits:

Victim: NivousNiv

Purple: Maechery

King: Lara Prisma

Dark: FireflyFlareNight

Background: Sammy8D257

[cera-writes]

How about Nightcrawler falling for Remy's honorary sibling?

Moonlight Sonata

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Tags: fluff, humor, flirting, baking, slight competition, developing feelings

The scent of fresh pastries mingled in the air, a peculiar scent that had become strangely comforting to Kurt Wagner.

He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you knead dough with surprising finesse for someone who could lift a priceless artifact from a guarded vault without breaking a sweat. You hadn't even noticed him yet. You were in your own little world it seemed.

Gambit, ever the charmer, had introduced you to the X-Men as a "distant cousin" from New Orleans with a knack for "acquiring rare finds." Professor X, ever the pragmatist, saw the potential in your unique ability to manipulate probability, making you an invaluable asset for training the team. But over time, Kurt had discovered you were more than just a valuable asset.

You possessed a dry wit that rivaled Logan's, a fierce protectiveness that mirrored Ororo's, and a surprising talent for pastry. Your μπεκλαβές (mezeklaves), a flaky Greek cheese pie, had become a favorite amongst the X-Men, even the health-conscious ones (though they wouldn't admit it).

Tonight, however, the kitchen was empty except for you. Kurt, ever the teleporter with a conscience, decided to make his presence known with a gentle, "Guten Abend."

You whirled around, a dusting of flour on your cheek, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Kurt! Ya scared the bejeezus outta me." Your voice was laced with an accent similar to Gambit's, which Kurt found endearing.

Kurt chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the shadows themselves. "Apologies, Meine Freund. I did not mean to startle you." He bamfed beside you, the brimstone scent that clung to him momentarily overwhelmed by the aroma of butter and sugar.

"No harm done," you said, patting some flour off your apron. "Just surprised to see you here. Thought you preferred the… darker corners."

"There is a certain charm to moonlight," Kurt admitted, "but the company is even more delightful."

Your smile faltered slightly, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. "Are you… complimentin' me, fuzzy elf?"

"Only stating a fact," Kurt replied, his own blue fur dusting a faint pink. "You bring a certain… warmth to the kitchen. A welcome change from the usual… chaos."

Your smile returned, wider this time. "Well, someone has to keep Remy in line," you said, a playful jab at your honorary brother. "Though between you and me, I'm the better cook. Jus' don't tell him that."

Their conversation flowed easily, filled with shared stories and laughter. As the night deepened, Kurt found himself lingering longer, captivated by the way your mischievous glint sort of mirrored Remy's in your eyes. When you finally stretched, a hint of weariness in your movements, Kurt surprised himself by blurting out, "Perhaps you would… care to join me for a walk… under the actual moonlight, I mean."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just the moonlight, huh, Kurt? No shadows, no surprise teleports to some forgotten realm?"

Kurt felt a familiar warmth creep up his neck. "Only… pleasant company, my friend. I assure you."

You considered him for a moment, then a slow smile spread across your face. "Alright, Kurt. But if you try anythin', I won't hesitate to manipulate the odds and send you tumblin' into a vat of flour."

A teasing glint flickered in your eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but grin back. "A vat of flour, you say? Sounds like a messy proposition. Perhaps a stroll on the balcony would be a safer choice?" He gestured towards the large glass doors leading outside, moonlight already casting an ethereal glow on the patio furniture.

You dusted a stray bit of flour off your shoulder, your gaze lingering on him for a beat longer than necessary. "Maybe you're right, fuzzy elf. Sides, I wouldn't want to risk ruinin' these." You gestured towards a fragrant pan of pastries cooling on the counter. "Remy's been braggin' about my skills to Stormy all week. Gotta keep up appearances, right?"

Kurt chuckled, a warmth blooming in his chest. "Storm wouldn't dare challenge your culinary prowess, even with Remy vouching for her. But perhaps I could offer a different kind of challenge on our walk?"

You quirked an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your voice. "Oh yeah? And what kind of challenge might that be, Nightcrawler?"

Kurt leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How about a test of your probability manipulation skills? We could see who can find the most… interesting object under the moonlight."

A slow smile spread across your face, the mischievous glint in your eyes mirroring his own. "Now that's a challenge I can get behind. Just don't come cryin' to me if you end up teleporting into the Danger Room by accident."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. "Never underestimate Kurt Wagner, Schatz. Let's just say, I have a certain… affinity for finding unexpected things."

With a playful wink, you grabbed a clean dish towel and wiped your hands. "Alright then, furball. Lead the way. But be warned, I have a knack for finding trouble… and sometimes, trouble finds me."

Kurt offered you his arm, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Then perhaps tonight, trouble will find something delightful instead."

Together, you stepped out onto the moonlit balcony, the promise of a playful competition and a blossoming connection hanging heavy in the cool night air.

[jjsgirly]

can't outdo the doer … exbf!rafe cameron ! 18+, mdni. ༄.°

"rayyy," you called out to your ex-boyfriend as you ascended up the stairs of tannyhill, away from the loud music downstairs and the drunken teens dancing, speech slurred.

you trailed down the hallway with a lopsided, drunken grin and towards rafe's bedroom door, coming to a stop once you reached it and grabbed the knob, swinging it open with a second thought.

"ray, i—" you started but quickly closed your mouth as soon as your eyes landed on the obscene scene before you, half-lidded eyes widening.

some girl arched over, her face pressed directly into the mattress of rafe's bed as he was behind her, balls deep inside of her, his large hand gripping at the back of her head, driving his cock into her with no remorse, groaning with pinched brows, both their bodies covered in a sheen layer of sweat, and you could hear cries of pleasure muffled into the sheets.

you stood there in the doorway watching, your eyes focused on the girl rather than rafe, though that changed as soon as he lifted his head up from her form beneath him, a smarmy smile spreading across his handsome features as he gazed at you smugly, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"look, baby," he crooned condescendingly as he harshly pulled the girl's head back so she could look up, her face fucked out with a dazed expression and drool dribbling down her chin as she looked over at you. "we have a guest, huh? a lil' voyeur. say hi, why don't you?"

the girl let out a whimper in response before rafe pushed her head back down, fucking into her with sharp, harsh thrusts, her body slipping down the mattress with each deep pump, her hands gripping onto the sheets like a lifeline.

the dirty-blond continued to stare at you, his arrogant smirk still present. "cute, isn't she? came tumblin' into my arms, drunk and ditzy, thought i'd fuck her into the mattress," he chuckled, his words heavy with haughtiness with you knowing they meant absolutely nothing; he was doing this in an attempt to mess with you, like the bastard he was.

but even so, you couldn't help but smirk, and you watched with a glint in your eyes as you watched his expression falter for a split second, his smirk thinning out just a bit.

moving your hand away from the doorknob, you used your foot to close it and approached the end of the bed, where the girl's front half was positioned, and looked down at her, reaching your hand out to lift her head up with a gentle touch.

she looked up at you, mouth agape from the way rafe was drilling into her, eyes watery, red, and puffy from having been crying, her entire face flushed with a cute pink color. you almost felt a bit bad, knowing how rough rafe could be in bed; she was probably exhausted and sore, but you knew he wouldn't stop fucking her until he was finished.

you dropped her head and lifted your gaze to meet the blues of his eyes, darkened with insolence, and simply laughed in his face, causing his cocky expression to fall, replaced with a look of scorn, a vein popping in his forehead.

"she looks like me, don't she?" you hummed and watched as the dirty-blond's lips parted a bit, hearing a high-pitched whine escape the girl's lips as you assumed he dug into her harder, the sounds of his thrusts getting a bit louder, along with the creaking of the bedsprings.

it was true, she did look a lot like you, down to the way your face would scrunch up in pleasure whenever rafe fucked you nice and deep, hitting that gooey spot inside of you with every pump of his cock, kissing your cervix, just as you assumed he was doing with her.

you drifted from the end of the bed and stalked closer to rafe, coming around to the side of the bed and tilting your chin up slightly at him, leaning in close to him, his eyes trained on you like a predator's, watching his prey intently.

"did you think i wouldn't notice?" you questioned him demeaningly, bringing a hand up to grasp onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side, feeling how it hardened in your hold, his teeth gritting together, more deplorable sounds being pulled from the girl beneath him.

"that's cute, ray. are you also gonna call out my name when you come inside of her?" the words slipped from your lips with mockery, a sneer gracing them as you let go and backed away, swearing that you saw him chase after you for a moment before huffing out a breath, like he was fighting with himself.

with a small snigger, you stepped away and back towards the door, giving a small wave with a feigned reply of politeness, "have fun," before opening it and slipping back out into the hallway, closing the door with a quiet click.

you listened, the noises of bed rocking increasing with cries of rafe's name and degrading words, along with a few smacks, until you heard it with a victorious grin plastered across your face—your name falling from your ex-boyfriend's lips with a hint of a pleading whimper.

© jjsgirly on tumblr ! do not copy or transfer my work onto any other platform, please.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very much appreciated. ♡

[semperamans]

How genius of you to include that bit about Benny listening from the other side of the wall?!? Holy shit!! BUT I raise you Benny watching. Can you picture it? It's a simple mistake as he trudges in from the bar, a glance ventured through a crack in the door. He doesn't know you and Johnny designed it that way to gauge his curiosity. Your hand reaches for him, begging for him to come closer, but the words don't come out with Johnny stealing the breath from your lungs. So Johnny grunts, "Go on and give her what she wants. She's such a good girl. You wouldn't disappoint my little babydoll would you?"

oh i just - i need a nap (i just woke up)

benny stands there all deer-in-headlights as you beg for him. he’s heard you like this before - so loud for such a little thing - but he’s never had the pleasure of hearin’ his own name tumblin’ outta those rose colored lips. it’s one long whimper of benny.benny.benny.benny as you drop your forehead to the mattress, shoving your ass into the air, allowing johnny to massage the rounds of your flesh as he fucks you with the fervor of a crazed man. he is crazy. s’gotta be because shouldn’t this whole thing upset him? there are so many tangles in the blurred lines. so much love and too many people and it’s not natural, johnny thinks, but neither is how tight you’re squeezin’ his cock. “go on baby,” johnny coos, runnin’ his fingers down your spine. benny’s cock twitches in anticipation. “ask ‘em. use your words.”

“benny,” you plead, soft voice still muffled by the comforter. johnny tuts. wrapping your hair around his knuckles, yanking just hard enough to bow your back. the angle is delicious; johnny can feel every buttery fold of your gushing wetness and god benny’d love this.

“try again, pretty. you can do it.” his sentence is cut up, cut off by his own grunts of pleasure because jesus christ no one feels like you do.

“benny, t-touch me. love me. benny, please.” your hand reaches for him, shuddering with the oxytocin overload pulsing through your veins. “love you, benny. please.”

n’benny’s got that look in his eyes and johnny knows he’s gonna give in - gonna give it up - n’sure enough those blues flick up, holding johnny in all his glory. he’s so pretty, johnny thinks: cock hard, bulging in his jeans, eyes wide, hungry.

“go on,” johnny says amid the sound of your wet squelch. “fuck - give ‘er what she wants. she’s such a good girl. aren’t you baby? who you gonna be good for?”

“our benny,” you sob, letters wet and round. “our benny. our benny.” you promise in time with johnny’s thrusts.

“s’it baby.” johnny praises, rewarding you with a scratchy kiss on your shoulder blade. “m’gonna pull out n’let benny have a go. s’that okay?”

“yes yes yes. love you. love benny.”

“i know ya do baby, n’benny’s gonna take such good care of ya.” johnny looks at benny again who looks like he could cry “aren’t you?”

“yeah,” benny whispers. johnny almost loses him to the squeak of the bed springs and the thump of the headboard and the sheer power of your love and devotion. “g’nna be so good to her. promise.”

johnny knows. he knows. fuck he knows he’s so lucky to be in love with the two of you. he’s got such a pretty view: your red round cheeks jiggling against his hip bones, benny’s slow walk toward you, his veiny hand on your cheek, the way you stare up at him like he’s god himself.

“hi baby,” benny whispers. “gonna take care of you.”

he seals his promise with a kiss - tasting the depth of your devotion - and the rest is history.