#and he shows up and they have a good talk and the feelings come out and etc etc and then kiss

[classyrbf]

PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO

prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.

“Not you again,” you sigh.

“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.

You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.

“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.

You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.

“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”

Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.

“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.

“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”

He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.

“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.

“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.

Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”

“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.

“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.

“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.

You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”

“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.

“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 3 | masterlist

-

It’s not unusual for someone to mistake you for the baby’s mama.

How could someone not, at least for a moment? When you take the baby to the grocery store, older people gush over him babbling in his stroller, eager to shower him with compliments in baby-talk or tell you how much you resemble the little tyke. After hearing the same comment for the umpteenth time, you tire of correcting people by saying you’re the babysitter only to watch their face fall, somewhat mortified and feeling as though their comment should’ve been directed to the baby’s actual mother. Which isn’t you. 

It’s less typical for someone to mistake you for John’s wife, though that does happen from time to time.

You’ve become a fixture around the neighbourhood since John hired you at the beginning of the summer, and over the weeks, the other nannies and the stay-at-home moms have started to gradually warm up to you. Before long, you’re being invited on coffee runs and playdates with some of the other women, always careful to ask for John’s permission before bringing his baby into a stranger’s house.

“Just text me the address and their names,” he requests while you stand awkwardly in front of him, John sitting on the bed to finish buttoning up his shirt and fixing his watch around his wrist. You would’ve been fine standing on the other side of the door while he finished changing, but he insisted on inviting you in.

“I will,” you promise, nodding along with his words.

“And call me if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll come get the two of you right away if you need me.”

You swallow. Nod again.

The first time you take the baby for a playdate with a couple of the moms from the park, one catches you in the act of texting John the address of the house as he requested. “Hubby wants to know where you are, huh?”

“Oh,” you choke out, face heating up. “He’s not—”

“Not a control freak, I know. They’re all like that.” Her smile is ebullient, rolling her eyes like you’re in on a joke together when you most assuredly are not. “Why don’t you share your location with him? Mine’s the same way. Here—I’ll show you how.”

She takes your phone and tap-taps something and suddenly you see it in the notifications of your conversation with John. If you bite your lip instead of correcting her assumption about the nature of your and John’s relationship, that’s for you and you alone to know. Your rationale is that any explanation will just make things tense; it’s not like you haven’t seen it happen before. 

It’s far more concerning when John doesn’t correct those assumptions. Particularly when you’re standing right next to him. 

Like at the local water park on a particularly hot weekend, wading in the kiddy pool with the baby nestled tight against your chest in his little swim trunks and floppy hat only for an employee to ask John if his wife would like something to drink. 

“Iced coffee, love?” John asks, taking your stupefied silence as a yes. “Nothing for me, mate. Cheers.” 

Your head spins like a top on that thought until a good while later. The server hands you a glass of iced coffee with condensation already dripping down the sides and John thanks him for you, taking the baby from you and pulling you to his side. You drink your coffee quietly with your thigh flush with his under the water, gripping the glass harder when his free hand squeezes around your waist, laughing at something another parent said to him.

It’s so over for you. There’s no coming back from this. 

The sight of someone of John’s size, a bulky, military man with arms of pure steel dusted with dark hairs, cradling a tiny, chubby baby with a thatch of similar dark hair on his head and big cheeks and roly poly arms unlocks something primal in you. An old, buried need. 

In the family changing room, you stand under an ice cold shower until it breaks the fever slowly consuming you. All you can do is hope it takes. 

In the evening, you sit out on the porch with John at the back of the house until the crickets swell with song, the moon a half-crescent in the sky. A cool breeze makes your shoulders lift a little, huddling into your body to keep warm. 

It’s hard to keep your eyes on the view in front of you and off the man sitting beside you when they want so badly to be running over him. He’s changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old threadbare shirt, the sage green fabric faded after years of being run through the washing machine. It clings to his biceps and the soft pudge of his stomach, a layer of fat over the hard muscle beneath. 

A cigarette dangles from his fingers, thick wrist perched on the arm of the adirondack chair. Every so often he lifts it to his lips for a puff, always breathing out in the opposite direction from you. Considerate of your health, at least, if not his own. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks before ashing his cigarette, and your bottom lip purses when you turn your head to look at him because you thought you were doing a good job suppressing your shivers. 

You stare at him, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at your questioning stare and deliberately glances down, waiting until you notice the way your nipples are protruding through your white tank top. You forgot that you’d taken your bra off earlier for a bit of relief and hadn’t yet had a chance to put it back on. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, crossing your arms to hide as much as possible, humiliation flooding through you. “I’m so sorry—that’s so—I-I’m so sorry.”

John makes a rough sound when he rises to his feet, knees cracking as he does. “S’alright, hun. Lemme get you something to put on.”

The screen door creaks when he goes back inside briefly to fetch something only to come back a few seconds later with a big, cotton sweater that reeks of him. It looks well loved, some remnant of his younger years, and even from a distance, you can smell the distinct smoky aroma clinging to the fabric. 

When he kneels in front of you, you nearly go cross-eyed at the realisation that even on his knees, he’s as tall as you. The bulk of his waist forces your legs to spread around him. 

“C’mon, arms up,” John commands, barely waiting until you’ve raised your arms above your head before helping guide your head and arms into the right holes. 

Dragging the sweater down the way he does forces it to rub over your nipples, sending a shock through you. If you had any less self-control, your teeth might actually chatter together. 

“There we go,” he says, fluffing out the sweater around your waist before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, the gesture coming so naturally to him that you doubt he’s even noticed the placement of his hands. “Much better. That’ll warm you up.”

He isn't wrong. You’ve already worked up a sweat. 

Late night rain.

It comes down in buckets, a dark slate rapping hard against the window pane. A bolt of lightning flickers across the horizon off in the distance. White striations across an otherwise dark sky. About thirty seconds later, thunder rumbles. 

You peek from between the blinds, chewing your lip nervously. You’ve never driven in rain this bad, but with supper done and the dishes washed, there’s no excuse for you to stay any longer. Still, the rain comes down so heavily that despite your timidity, you briefly contemplate asking John if you can stay a little longer. At least until it lets up a bit; until your headlights won’t blind you reflecting off the puddles on the drive home. 

Someone else pulls the blinds further apart.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out in that,” John says from behind you, practically growling his words. Daring you to contradict him. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him right there at your back, staring out the window. He’s so close that you can smell the red sauce on his flannel from dinner and make out the flecks of grey in his beard that are almost masked by the darker hairs. 

“It’s not…that bad…”

“Sweetheart, don’t piss me off,” he warns.

The blinds shuttle back together with a clatter when you finally let go of them. 

“I could—I could take the couch,” you offer. 

“Sweetheart,” John sighs, looking down at you meaningfully.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not gonna take the big, comfy bed and leave you with the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “And don’t even try arguing. I won’t hear it.”

There’s not much you can say to dissuade him after that. The furrow of his brow lets you know he’s made up his mind; no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides, there’s a not-so-secret part of you that’s relieved that you don’t have to drive home in this weather. You’re an average driver on a good day. You don’t need your last moments before shuffling off this mortal coil to involve hydroplaning on the highway before ramming into the guardrail. 

John gives you a shirt of his to change into for after your shower, which you spend far too long in, scrubbing your body with his shower gel and quivering under the warm water. When you pull it on, you bring the collar up to your nose to smell. The same patent smoky scent, musky like ambergris and leather. Intoxicating. It makes the blood rush through your ear like a conch shell, the ocean swirling behind your eardrum. 

You hadn’t asked for underwear, content at first to keep on the same pair, but after your shower, you cringe at the thought of putting your day-old panties back on. Besides, his shirt is long enough to cover anything indecent. 

He sits on the edge of the bed when you come out, the concern on his brow melting away at the sight of you. 

“Practically a dress on you, isn’t it?” John says, voice a little wondrous. His eyes drag over you, tip to toe. 

You fiddle with the ends of it. “…Are you sure you want me to take the bed?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair. It’s yours for the night.” His lips quirk up at the corners when you frown. “Don’t worry about me—I’ve slept in worse places before.”

“Like where?” you ask dubiously.

“Tents. Abandoned buildings. Shacks. In the back of a moving van a few times. You wouldn’t believe half the places we used to make camp. Definitely no place for pretty girls like you.”

His condescending tone vaguely annoys you, but it’s hard to dig into your irritation when he thumbs the edge of the shirt you’re wearing and you realise that he’s just a few raised inches away from noticing that you don’t have any panties on. You should’ve just put your old ones back on, but it’s far too late now. 

You clear your throat instead. “We could…um…we could share.” 

You don’t know what possesses you to offer to share the bed, but the words are already gone, out of your mouth and in the air. John cocks an eyebrow.

“Unless you don’t want to,” you amend. 

“Don’t know about that, sweetheart,” he rasps. “…I snore like a bear.”

“That’s okay. I’m a pretty deep sleeper.”

John scrutinises you a bit longer, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You know he’d squash your offer in a second if he found any wariness in your gaze. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes, letting go of your shirt and slapping his thighs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up and can’t fall back asleep because of my snoring.”

After his shower, during which you lie on your side facing away from the bathroom door, stomach fraught with nerves as you consider the fact that he’s naked in the ensuite, you hear him come out and rummage around in the dresser for a change of clothes. You lie beside him with your stomach twisted in knots, your hands shoved under the pillow and staring resolutely at the wall. 

The appropriateness of sleeping in the same bed beside your boss isn't lost on you, but you're too far into this now.

The bed dips when he settles onto the other side, and the sudden absence of light when he switches the bedside lamp off nearly makes you cheep. 

He breathes heavily, you notice, particularly when he finally falls asleep. It’s a deep, rumbling sound—not entirely unlike a bear, though you can’t really confirm that for certain seeing as how you’ve never slept beside a bear before. 

Those are the thoughts that would signal the approach of sleep if you weren’t soon to be engulfed by it. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to a rough hand stroking your back leisurely. There’s a hard chest under you, your cheek propped up on a pillowy pec that rises and falls with his breaths. Sleep bobs around in you like a toulouse decanter. You struggle to keep an eye open, certain that there’s something you need to tend to, but then his hand slides down your back again to curve over your rump and sleep drags you back down. 

You wake up again to your breath wafting back into your mouth, your face shoved into the crook of a man’s neck. Humid, hot. You’re lipping at the skin of his neck, little tongue darting out to lap up a bead of sweat, salty on your tongue. 

Your cunt pulses against his leg, toes curling when John drags his hand up your thigh and hitches it higher up around his waist. 

“Baby?” he groans, his voice still rusty from sleep. The sound is a rough burr up your spine. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Couldn’ get comfy.”

“You hot?” he asks.

The denial on the tip of your tongue slips back down your throat when he plants his foot on the bed and draws his leg up, pressing the meat of his thigh into your throbbing sex. 

“Here, lemme help you—” he groans, reaching down to ruck up your shirt, dragging it up over your breasts and helping manoeuvre your arms out of the holes. It gets tossed off the bed onto the floor. 

Now your breasts are flat on his chest, smushed against his ribcage. It registers somewhere in the back of your head as inappropriate, but sleep pushes that thought away, focusing instead on the discomfort of moving around when you just want to settle back down and go back to bed. 

It must be the heat making you act this way. 

“Shit—sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, shifting under you. “M’hot too.”

He plants a hand on your ass and heaves you up his chest, giving him enough room to wiggle out of his boxers. It pushes your breasts right into his face, your nipples mere inches from his mouth. When his tongue pokes out to wet his upper lip, it nicks your pebbled nipple. 

A hard length presses against your butt when you’re slid back down, the tip wet when it catches against your skin. 

“Jus’ ignore it, sweetie,” John mumbles, petting a hand down your back. 

You lie like that for a while, splayed over his body. Want simmering just under your skin. Flustered and exhausted all at once, sleep-drained; not a drop of strength in your muscles. 

The heat is just—

Scorching. Dizzying. You feel featherbrained, slipping in and out of sleep, biting off the whimpers that threaten to crawl up your throat when John tucks his hands into the crevice of your thighs to wrench them apart, spreading them around his hips again. 

Distantly, you remember that the man under you is at least twenty years your senior. Your employer at that. A man now palming your butt, sinking his fingers into the flesh and rumbling low in his throat. 

It’s wrong—flagrantly wrong. You know that you should say something, that you should get up and tell him that you’re going to sleep on the couch instead. But your tongue is too thick for your mouth. And your thoughts are a sticky paste. The pulse between your thighs empties out all the common sense from your head. 

His palms are slick on your skin. 

Your breathing grows shallow when a hard length suddenly pushes between your thighs as well. 

When the mushroomed head nudges at your opening, you flinch, heart thumping ferociously against your chest. 

“John—John—” you breathe, panicked. As if to warn him. As if he weren’t planting both feet on the bed and lifting his hips. 

As if it wasn’t his hands, warm on your waist, dragging you down onto the shaft spearing into you. 

Your blood is molten hot in your veins. Sticky hands and sticky fingers curl into his chest hair. Your head thumps against his pecs, too weak to hold it up, lipping at the damp skin of his chest. 

“It hurts—” you bleat, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know,” John pants. He draws his hips back just to press forward again, deeper this time. Filling you up more than before. “I’m sorry, baby—I can’t, it’s just…too good. Shit.”

Resolve in tatters. Shattered like his willpower, like his determination not to fuck the girl twenty years his junior sleeping beside him in his bed. 

His hips pump up into yours, bouncing you in his lap. Each thrust plunging his cock deeper into your pussy. It’d be painful if you weren’t so wet, but you’re dripping, arousal making you leak around his shaft and slickening his way. 

Sleep still rattles around in your brain, but not even the fog of sleep can shake the ever intensifying realisation that you’re fucking your boss. No two ways around it—breasts naked against his hirsute chest; pussy wet and stuffed to the hilt with a big dick. Knocked senseless by it. 

The veins of his cock drag over the viscid walls of your cunt with every thrust. He must like the involuntary noises you make because he loses his rhythm when you cry out, growling out a string of unintelligible curses. His body feels bigger like this somehow, biceps and forearms bulging where they’re wrapped around your waist, hips forcing your legs to spread wide around him, the ache sinking deep into your muscle, into your bones.  

When you look up at him, his eyes are more hooded than usual, the blue of his irises so dark that they’re almost black. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, big arms like steel bands around your waist, holding you tight to his chest so you have nowhere to run. “Jus’ let…jus’ let daddy come and—oh Christ, fuck, fuck…—jus’ lemme come and we’ll go back to bed, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m gonna…” you pant, trailing off when he gets a little rough, pumping harder up into you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his length makes your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah, yeah, you—you come too, baby. Jus’ need to take the edge off, both of us.”

You squeal when he reaches a hand down to dig his fingers into your butt cheek and it makes you tense up, walls tightening around his dick. One well-placed swat hard enough to make the flesh of your ass jiggle and you come, clenching up so tight that his next few thrusts are slowed by your spasming walls, forcing him to really cram his cock into your hole. 

“Christ, that’s cute,” John growls, his pupils blown out. 

It hurts to come that hard; makes your belly cramp up and everything. Whatever gibberish spills from your mouth gets lost in the aftermath. 

That’s when the temperature goes from hot to blistering. The muscles of his thighs tense, straining with his impending release. Even his grip around your waist gets tighter, his self-control steamrolled under his approaching climax, oblivious to the way you squeal and squirm when it threads the delicate needle of being too much. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises, voice treading gravel. “M’gonna mess your pussy up a bit—”

“Wait—wait—” you gasp, trying fruitlessly to lift yourself up, his arms keeping you pinned tight to his chest. “You’re gonna—John, you’re gonna come inside me—”

His hips thrust up hard at your words, one last rough pump that has him digging his heels into the mattress and clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck protruding. You feel it flood inside you, hot spurts of cum right up against your womb. He curses when he comes, eyelids sliding shut, lost in the sensation of emptying himself into you. 

A few last, punishing thrusts that make your teeth clack together. More heat spurting into you. A murmured oh fuck before his legs slide back down the bed, spreading out over the mattress. 

The blanket is somewhere at the foot of the bed, all scrunched up and nearly dangling off the edge. You only start to shiver when the sweat on your back finally begins to cool. 

When he pulls you off his cock, you whimper, a hot flash snaking through you. Oh Christ did he plug you up good. Stringy, viscous cum leaks from your hole, leaving a little puddle on his thigh when you slide off his chest and to the side a bit. 

“Oh baby,” he tuts softly, reaching between your legs to feel where you’re wet and a little swollen. “Sorry, sweetheart…wanna get cleaned up?”

“No…” you rasp, so dazed that you can’t even lift your cheek off his chest. 

Exhaustion has never ridden you this hard before, but considering the circumstances…—perhaps you’re lucky to be conscious at all, is all you mean. There’s not a chance of you having enough energy to do anything as rigorous as showering though. 

“Okay, baby. Little kiss?” John asks in a murmur, lifting your head up by your chin and swooping down for a kiss. Not even giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth is on yours. 

His lips glide slick against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needs a good, deep kiss to ground him. A wet twisting of tongues; a thick finger stroking up your neck. He can’t stop touching you. Running a hand up your spine and curving it back down over your ass. Featherlight touches meant to calm you down. His kisses grow sticky, lingering; each one almost the last until he pulls you in for another. 

“Go back to sleep, okay?” John says, still speaking low enough to push you back under. He smooths his hand down your back again. 

You fall back asleep with a load in your belly and your head in a tizzy. The you of tomorrow is going to have a lot to contend with from the you of tonight.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader decides to show up at a frat house party after almost a week of radio silence.

꒰ part one ꒱ — ꒰ part two ꒱— ꒰ part three ꒱

you were telling the truth when you told kitty and nick that you were super busy. the timing of being swamped with classes and assignments, coupled with the betrayal and hurt of being isolated from the frat formal, actually worked in your favour. it provided a much-needed distraction.

your classes kept you somewhat sane. yet, the constant buzzing of your phone from chris became a source of anxiety, which made you eventually decide to put your phone on do not disturb.

you hated doing that to him—it felt hard and unkind—but you needed to focus. each time his name lit up the screen, guilt and frustration washed over you, but you knew you had to prioritise your studies.

it might seem hypocritical to say you had no time for distractions, especially since you still made time to meet up with kitty and nick for lunch. their company was a pleasant break from the weight of your responsibilities.

you even found yourself opening up about chris, wearing your heart on your sleeve as you shared the confusion and frustration you felt — letting them know that you struggle to articulate how difficult it is to figure out your emotions of what's right and wrong, especially since you weren't even officially dating him.

they listened to you patiently, letting you spill your thoughts while they threw in the occasional sarcastic remark about chris, and eventually, they gently nudged you toward the idea of talking to him.

after some hesitation, you agreed. deep down, you knew you had to. you're not a mean person; you don't have a mean bone in your body, and ignoring chris' calls and texts felt like the closest you'd ever come to being unkind. that realisation weighed heavy on you.

however, the thought of facing him made your stomach churn. the idea of seeing chris after having been 'mean' left you on edge, your heart racing at the possibilities. but, you reminded yourself that communication is essential, even when it feels so daunting.

talking to him felt like a long shot, but you were willing to take that leap.

friday afternoon arrives quicker than you initially anticipated, and your palms feel clammy as you walk beside your friend, heading toward the familiar frat house that's already overflowing with students, laughing, and the thumping bass of loud music.

as you approach the entrance, your lips part in surprise when some of the frat brothers notice you — their wide, goofy grins spread across their faces, and they wave at you drunkenly. you smile shyly in response, turning their waves with a small, but kind, gesture before your friend pulls you further into the house.

it doesn't take long for your eyes to land on chris. he's sprawled on the couch, man-spreading, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. he's glancing up at a guy standing over him holding a wad of cash, and you watch as chris holds the joint between his lips before dipping his hand into his pocket, pulling out a baggie of colourful pills and handing it over in exchange for cash.

"where have y'beeeeen?" a voice jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn just in time to see nate approaching, his arms swinging wide as he embraces you in a drunken hug. his cheek smushes against yours, and you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed on his breath. "i felt like fuckin' hansel 'n gretal leavin' a trail of apples f'you to find your way back, kid."

his words making you giggle, and your friend steps in to help untangle you from nate's affectionate grip, causing him to huff dramatically as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her waist instead.

"come on," your friend urges, trying to tug nate away from you. "let her go speak to chris."

"good luck... been a fuckin' asshole all week," nate murmurs with a drunken slur, and your smile begins to falter, a wave of unease washing over you. you know all too well that you're likely the reason for chris' mood. as nate stumbles backward, he turns his head, pointing at you with a grin, "m'serious about them apples! they're in the fridge f'you!"

as they move away, the laughter and music fade into the background, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what's about to happen. your stomach swirls and churns with each step, the anticipation and anxiety building as you near chris, who remains unaware of your presence — too absorbed in taking a hit of his joint and counting the crumpled bills in his hand.

just as you're about to stand directly in front of him, his eyes flit up to meet yours. you give him a timid smile, hoping for a sliver of recognition or even warmth, but it falters and falls when he looks away, completely ignoring you.

the sting of his dismissal hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you feel like you might be sick.

this wasn't how you had planned it in your head. you weren't supposed to be ignored... you were supposed to talk, to find some common ground, and hopefully, to be fine again.

your head is spinning, and your mind is clouded with confusion and hurt. the room starts to close in around you, the drunken students moving like a tidal wave, and you panic, your heart hammering against your chest.

in the midst of your spiralling, you catch sight of matt and kitty sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you. kitty pushes herself off of matt's lap, and matt follows closely behind, both seeming to make a beeline for you. but before you can even fully process their approach, your arm is suddenly caught in a tight grasp.

you're whisked away upstairs before you can even blink, the world around you blurring as you're pulled away from the chaos. panic surges through you, but gradually, a sense of relief washes over you when you're yanked into a familiar bedroom—chris' bedroom—and shock courses through you as you turn to see that it was him who brought you up here.

"relax," he grumbles, shutting the bedroom door behind you, which partially mutes the music from downstairs. "fuckin' dramatic for no reason."

even with his blunt, harsh words, there's an odd comfort in them, and you hate the realisation of how much you have missed him. the urge to suddenly hug him overwhelms you, but you hold back, wrapping your arms around yourself instead.

"nice of you to finally fuckin' show up," he continues, his gaze piercing as it drills into you, making you chew down on your plush bottom lip. he scoffs, shaking his head. "what? got nothin' to say? just—just gonna come here 'n show your face? all silent 'n shit?"

"i was busy," you respond, grasping at the same words you've been using all week, and the second scoff that escapes him makes you frown.

"right, right... 'cos it uh, didn't seem like you were busy when you were meetin' up with kitty and nick, yeah?"

"they met me for lunch on campus," you explain, your eyebrows furrowing a little. "i was still on campus.."

"what's your problem?" his question catches you off guard, and you blink, momentarily stunned. "like, what is goin' on? two weeks ago, you were fuckin' fine, and now you're ignorin' me? did i do somethin'?"

you take a deep breath, your eyes flitting to the side, searching for the right words before you murmur, "you didn't tell me about the formal."

"oh my god," your gaze snaps back to chris as he takes off his hat, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. a laugh of disbelief escapes his lips. "that—that's what this is about? 'cos... 'cos i didn't tell you about a fraternity formal that you have no interest in?"

you frown softly, "when did i—"

"kid, y'don't even like fuckin' frat parties, what makes you think you'd like a formal?" he huffs, rubbing at his jaw frustratingly. "y'wouldn't have even gone."

"it's the thought that counts," you reply, a bit more defensively than intended. you fidget on the spot, your fingers twisting together nervously as you try to steady your racing heart. "i... i would've liked to have been asked or something."

"yeah? so i could stand there 'n hear you say no?" chris shoots back, rolling his tongue across his teeth. "kid, i knew you would say no. that's why i didn't fuckin' ask — knew you wouldn't like that shit."

"but why didn't you tell me about it in the first place?" you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, that frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface as you swallow thickly. "is it because you was taking her?"

"not everythin' i do needs to be told t'you, kid," chris responds sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. he then pulls a face, "her?"

"cherry." you whisper her name, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tight knot forming in your stomach.

"che—i didn't take cherry," he stares at you incredulously, his brows knitting together. "why the fuck would i take cherry? i went alone, dumbass."

his reaction catches you off guard, and you can't help but push. "but everyone saw you with her? and the photos?"

"yeah, she was there, but i didn't fuckin' take her — she was feignin' for them fuckin' pills, kid," The bluntness of his words strike you hard, and suddenly, embarrassment washes over you. you realise you had jumped to conclusions, just like everyone else, and you look down, biting your tongue as you desperately search for something to say.

silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, and your gaze finds its way back to chris, who is already staring at you as if he's trying to decipher your thoughts. he tilts his head slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, a posture that feels confrontational.

"besides," he begins, his tone shifting to something more matter-of-fact, "shouldn't really matter to you who i go with, right? 'cos we're not datin', kid. we're just sleepin' together, yeah?"

his words hang in the air like a cold reminder, and you nod your head slowly in response.

"do y'wanna stop?" he asks suddenly.

you didn't expect that question, and your heart races. "what?"

"m'givin' you an out, kid.. d'you wanna stop?" his gaze is unwavering, searching your face for an answer, and you can sense the weight of the choice he's placing in front of you.

you think over his question for a moment, and you think hard, weighing the options. ending this arrangement with him would certainly be a lot less complicated, but the thought leaves you hallow.

chris has become the normal for you. he's apart of your routine, a presence that even though frustrates the hell out of you and makes you so confused, he also brings you an odd comfort and excitement. and not only are you experiencing new sexual things with him, you are enjoying the pleasures that come with it too.

"no," you answer softly, "no, not really."

"alright..." chris hums, and you watch as his shoulders seem to relax, his arms uncrossing from his chest at your response. he nods his head, licking his lips to wet them, before he asks, "you stayin' over or you plannin' on bein' busy again?"

your face heats up, your nose scrunching up and your lips forming into a small pout as your murmur. "i was serious about being busy..."

"yeah, okay, bun."

© STURNIOZ

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: Chan comes back home from the Gym, making up his mind to divert his head from a lingering insecurity about his body by working all night. But you make him realise how much you love his Greek God physique.

Warnings: Smut🔞 Body insecurities, kisses, hickeys, oral (m.receiving), praising.

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This one shot was requested by this ask, thank you so much for dropping this idea on my inbox!!

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 2.3k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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The scent of the lavender candle spread across the atmosphere of the warm living room as you sat on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket and your book, waiting for your boyfriend to come back home from the Gym.

After a lovely lunch and cuddles, Chan decided to hop into the gym for a quick session for the week.

Your eyes read across the pages of the book, your mind concentrating on getting lost in the world of fiction when the sound of the keys on the front door distracted you.

The door opened and Chan entered, looking tired after his workout session but still devastatingly attractive. His loose t-shirt clung to his damp skin and his hair was tousled from the effort. His gym bag hung from his shoulder, he gave you a soft smile when he saw you curled up on the couch.

"Hey, baby," he said, his voice low and warm as he dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes.

"Hi, Chan," you replied, setting your book aside and pulling the blanket tighter around you. "Tough session?”

He shrugged, walking toward you and sinking down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. His muscles flexed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Just... needed to clear my head."

You frowned, sensing the heaviness in his tone. Sliding closer, placing your cheek on his arm, feeling the heat radiating off him. "What's on your mind?"

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's nothing," he muttered, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

"Chan," you said softly, tilting your head to catch his eyes. "Talk to me.”

He finally looked up, his dark eyes swirling with vulnerability. "It's stupid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I’ve been feeling off about how I look lately. Like I’m not enough."

Your heart clenched at his words. "What?" you said, incredulous. "Chan, you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. And not just because of how you look—though let me tell you, your body is like a freaking work of art."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he still looked uncertain. "You’re just saying that.”

"No," you insisted, sliding into his lap and straddling him, the blanket falling away. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you leaned in, your lips hovering over his.

"I mean it.”

Chan brushed a stray strand of hair being your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always making me feel good with your words sweetheart. But I think it's just me. I could do better… I'll just do some work to get it off my head.”

He said softly, as if he was accepting defeat to his insecurities and no way in hell you're going to make him feel that way.

“Chan…” You let your lips brush his, a soft, teasing kiss that made him shudder unexpectedly, his gaze turning dark. “Every inch of you drives me crazy. And if you don’t believe me…”

Your lips trailed down to his jawline and neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles through his tank top.

"...I’ll just have to show you.”

Chan let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your waist as his eyes darkened with intensity. “Baby,”

Before he said anything, you placed your index finger on his lips, hushing him. “Shh… you always make me feel good Chan. Tonight it's my turn.”

From explosive nights to loving mornings, Chan always made you feel like the centre of his world. He would never make you question anything about yourself. But when he does it to himself? Now that's unfair.

Chan groaned against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer. His body was warm beneath you, his skin damp from his workout but still so inviting. You kissed him harder, pouring every ounce of love and admiration into it, desperate to erase the doubts that had crept into his mind.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands moving to cup his face. "You don’t see yourself the way I see you," you murmured. "Every time I look at you, I see strength, kindness, and beauty. And that body of yours? It’s a masterpiece, Chan. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

He exhaled deeply, his hands sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“And you’re irresistible,” you countered, tugging his t-shirt upward.

He hesitated for a moment, a soft pink blooming his cheeks and a flicker of doubt crossing his features, but you didn’t let him pull away. “Nope. None of that,” you said firmly. “You’re perfect, Chan. Let me love you, please.”

Your plea sent something electric shooting straight through his body, after another second of hesitation, you took the black t-shirt over his head, your eyes drinking in the sight in front of you.

How can this man question his body? He was breathtaking in every possible way. Broad shoulders, chiselled, defined abs any man would envy. He was everything.

You kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. Your lips moved against his as your hands explored his shoulders and chest.

"Baby..." he breathed as you began trailing kisses down his jawline and neck, sucking on his sensitive skin leaving purplish red marks, your tongue flicking out to taste the salty sheen of his skin.

When your lips met his Adam's apple, it moved up and down as he let out a low, guttural groan, his head tipping back to give you better access. Your tongue traced the curve of his throat before your teeth grazed the skin, drawing a shiver from him.

His body trembled under your touch, and you could feel his self-control slipping. "You're driving me insane," Chan murmured, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to reality.

"Good," you whispered against his skin, your lips curving into a smile as you continued your slow exploration. "That’s exactly what I’m trying to do."

Your hands slid down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips. You leaned back just slightly to admire him, your gaze roaming over every dip and curve of his torso. The soft candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his abs and the strength of his arms.

You slowly started moving downwards, making a trail of hot wet kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking ever so softly over his areola, nails tracing his hard abs. Your fingers came back up to gently play with his nipples, Chan let out a heavy sigh.

You couldn't help but smirk at the way you have almost full control over him, finally and wondrously making all the way down, trailing kisses and licking every muscle of his abs, your lips reaching all the dips and valleys it could.

You kneeled before him as your hands played with his belt, your eyes flicked up to meet his.

Chan’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling as he watched you with a mix of anticipation and adoration. The candle and the dim light cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look almost unreal, like a god brought to life, sculpted just for you.

Your fingers worked deftly, unbuckling his belt and sliding it free that made him tense. "You okay, Christopher?" you teased, your voice low and sultry.

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. The way you said his name, in that voice you only use when you take charge, made him dizzy.

"You’re making it really hard to think right now.”

"Relax Chris. I wanna show you how much I love you," you replied, pulling his shorts down revealing his Calvin Klein boxers. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the V definition, your lips lingering as your hands roamed over his thighs and palmed his growing bulge.

Chan groaned louder, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he fought to keep his composure. "You’re really something else, you know that?"

"Only for you," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

You slid his shorts down further, your fingers continuing to brush against the growing hardness beneath the fabric of his boxers. Chan hissed softly at the contact, his head tipping back as he let you take the lead.

"You’re so handsome," you murmured, your hands gliding over his thighs and up to his hips. "Do you have any idea how much I love every part of you?"

His eyes met yours again, and for a moment, all his insecurities seemed to fade. "I think I’m starting to believe it," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your heart ache in the best way.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile, “And I’m not stopping until you do.”

Chan inhaled a long breath when you leaned forward, pressing another kiss to his hipbone before sliding his boxers down, your touch gentle and revealing his beautiful, velvet shaft proudly springing free from the confines.

Fuck.

He was impossibly hard, veins running through his length, the soft tip already leaking pre cum making your mouth water, ready to take him.

You stacked your hands on the base of his cock, kissing and licking the pretty tip before fully taking him in. Chan's head fell back, his hands gripping the couch, chest rising and falling, his length hardening more.

You started slow, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, savouring the salty taste of him mixed with the faint hint of his cologne still radiating off his skin.

Chan’s breath hitched, a deep groan escaping his lips as you wrapped your lips around him, taking him in torturous inch by inch into your mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. His hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to thread them through your hair and guide your movements.

But he didn’t need to—you were perfectly in control, and it was driving him insane.

You hollowed your cheeks, creating a delicious suction as you bobbed your head enthusiastically, your hands working in tandem to cover what your mouth couldn’t. Chan’s hips jerked slightly, a low growl escaping him as he let go of the last shreds of his restraint.

"God, you feel so good.” His voice was thick and unfolded like layers of velvet.

Your eyes flicked up to meet him as you hummed around him and stroked the faintish hairy skin above his length sending down vibrations that made his entire body shudder.

The sight of him, his head tilted back, the perfect view of the column of his hickey covered throat, parted lips, chest heaving, defined torse was enough to spur you on.

You increased your pace, your tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft, tracing every vein and ridge. Your warm mouth on his cock made blood rush through his body like an erratic tsunami, all his insecurities washing away like sand under the tide.

Chan’s hands finally found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out a broken moan.

"I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that," he warned, his voice rough and thick like gravel.

You pulled back slightly, letting your tongue press and circle around the tip of his length before releasing him with a soft pop. Your hand replaced your mouth, stroking him slowly as you smiled up at him.

"I love how you feel down my throat," you teased, your voice sounding gentle yet so sexy, he let out a shaky laugh, his head falling back against the couch.

Your entire focus was making Chan feel like a king, you continued your pace on sucking on his cock, your movements becoming more fervent as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.

Every moan, every curse that spilled from his lips was music to your ears, and you felt your own arousal pooling as you lost yourself in the act of loving him.

"Baby... I’m so close, fuck," he panted, his tightening grip finding its way back into your hair as his thighs trembled beneath your touch. His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room as he surrendered completely to the pleasure you were giving him.

With one final swirl of your tongue and a firm stroke of your hand, you felt him tense, his body going rigid as he let out a shuddering gasp. White warmth spilled down your throat, and you swallowed every drop of his cum like you had starved, savouring the taste as you milked him through his release.

Chan collapsed back against the couch, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You slowly pulled back, strings of saliva attaching from your lips onto his length.

Wiping the corner of your mouth with a satisfied smirk, you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his quivering abdomen. And one for each ridge of his defined abs.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

"You’re flawless, my Chan.” You chuckled, brushing your lips against the sensitive spot just beneath the tip.

He let out a breathless laugh, his head—both of them—buzzing with the aftershocks. His hand reached out to pull you up into his arms. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he said, his tone rough, looking almost shell shocked.

"Not a bad way to go," you teased, nuzzling into his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Chan kissed the top of your head, his voice steady and warm as he whispered, "Thank you. For loving me the way you do."

"I will always love you." You replied, your heart swelling with adoration as you both basked in the afterglow of the moment.

"I want you to see yourself the way I see you," you murmured, your voice soft but firm. "Strong. Gorgeous. Perfect."

Chan smiled warmly, his heart swelling with adoration, the room filling with nothing but the sound of ragged breaths as your mouths collided and the lingering scent of the lavender candle.

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Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[fadedtoneverland]

ice on my teeth | c.sn

❤︎ synopsis — san’s been feeling a little bold lately after his most recent comeback

pairing: idol!choi san x afab!reader

theme: smut ❣︎

a/n: ice on my teeth slaps and san in the mv has me feeling some type of way. enjoy this fic i cranked out from the horniest crevices of my mind. banner credits to @sylusz

cw: no gendered pronouns for the reader. top!san. bottom!reader. pet names (baby, babe, honey). vaginal fingering. oral sex (f receiving). slight overstimulation. reader is hormonal for san. san is a bit of a freak

san was so unfairly hot.

and he knew it.

it was insanely obvious that he took advantage of that fact too, because this comeback, his stylists went all out for every single one of his looks.

as the partner of choi san himself, you had special privileges of freely roaming photoshoots and music video shootings whenever ateez prepared for their latest comeback. it’s a special opportunity that all of ateez partner’s got, per the request of the members themselves.

and damn, did your man really aim to make you go feral this time around.

the new golden hour part 2 ep was an absolute banger, hongjoong even gave you the luxury to have an early listen to one of the songs on the album. of course, with banger songs, comes with a banger music video.

a music video that was a little too sexy for your own sanity.

the entire process was a thrill for ateez, but an agonizing time for you. you were forced to sit behind the camera crew while they took the most sinful shots of your boyfriend, trying to be discreet with how you rubbed your thighs together every time san flashed one of his sultry, sexy smirks that he’d usually give you in the bedroom.

it’s like god was laughing at your misfortune from the clouds with a popcorn bucket in hand. oh how you so badly wanted to jump your man’s bones and suck his dick right then and there, but you knew better than to create that oddly graphic scenario.

there was one particular scene that was being filmed, where san was looking up into the camera through intricately decorated chains and jewelry, shooting his iconic dark, sultry eyes. san was dressed in nothing but a fur coat and pants, lowered ever so slightly to teasingly show off his dolce gabbana boxers.

and he definitely knew he was affecting you in such a way, because every time you even catch his gaze, he always flashes you that cocky ass smirk, which only fuels your desire to just wipe than smile off with your lips on his.

this man should be illegal.

finally, after what seemed to be a lifetime of undressing san with your eyes, the music video filming was finally over, and you got to take your man home to your place.

san had already told mingi and seonghwa ahead of time that he’d be staying over at your place for some “quality time with his partner”.

a few hickeys and one sloppy make out later, the tension had finally boiled over into a heated dance of passion and lust between the two of you, with san pushing you down onto your duvet, his large hands roaming over your body, worshipping your clear skin.

“gorgeous.” san panted out, lathering wet kisses over your stomach, pushing your shirt up to your chest to grant himself more access to your body.

breathy sighs escaped your wet lips, and your gaze drifted down to the masterpiece of a man between your legs. a breathless chuckle erupted from your throat.

“someone’s eager.” you teased. san responded with a nip to your inner thigh, making you gasp.

“you’re one to talk.” san lowly groaned while practically ripping off your pants in one swift motion, which only made your panties even more soaked.

“i saw how you were looking at me during the filming. you’re not that slick, honey.”

you laughed, though it came out more high-pitched than expected. “can you blame me? you were looking so damn hot for that camera.”

“good.” san punched out with a grunt, his head diving between your legs. catching the elastic band of your panties between his teeth, he dragged down the sodden fabric in a teasing manner, slowly egging you on and heightening your arousal.

when you finally kicked off the delicate fabric yourself, the bare sight of your glittering, wet cunt, was all it took for san to lose control.

san has always been an impatient man when it came to you, so he wasted no time spreading your thighs apart, licking up your slit in one, fat stripe, and then beginning to feast on you, moaning wantonly into your sensitive skin.

your moans were shameless and loud, fingers immediately darting down to tangle in san’s raven hair, tugging on the strands periodically as san devoured your pussy with his skilled tongue.

“fuck, i’ll never get tired of this taste,” san grunted into your skin, letting out a moan as his tongue lathered over your sensitive folds. “it’s just so damn good.”

a high pitched whine escaped your lips. “h-hah.. sannie…”

“yeah, that’s it, baby. say my name.” san continued to worship your dripping core, his lips latched around your clit and sucking hard, flicking his tongue over it every now and then. your moans only got louder each time, and san just reveled in your pleasure, getting off on it.

san’s cock was so hard in his pants it was almost painful, begging to be freed and just fuck your pussy silly. but san was focused on you, and only you, wanting to hear your sounds and your pleasure.

a tiny trail of saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth, moans and whines coming from your throat nonstop as san ate you out like it was the last time he was ever gonna taste pussy. his calloused hands gripped the plush of your thighs tightly every time they closed instinctively around your head, spreading them apart and keeping them locked in that position.

“no. keep them open for me, babe.” san hashed out with a slight whine in his voice. he then licked a quick line up his two fingers before plunging them inside of you, relishing the loud gasp that came from your mouth.

“wanna make you feel good. please.”

the desperation in his voice made your velvety walls clench around his digits, and san groaned loudly at the feeling. hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders, san dived back in to abuse your clit with his tongue, while his fingers beckoned inside of your cunt to drive you crazy.

god were you a mess, the way san’s fingers just dragged against your spongy walls in all the right places, plus how he was prodding your sensitive pearl with his tongue. it’s like this man was trying to kill you.

every single sound that escaped your mouth only made san redouble his efforts, reducing you to his babbling, incoherent mess. your fingers tightened in san’s hair, pulling harshly at his messy black locks, and your hips bucked up to meet with san’s tongue and finger movements.

“s-san- san i can’t— a-ah~…” you whined rather loudly. san chuckled into your skin, the deep sound resonating within his chest.

and san’s gaze never left your face. his sharp, catlike eyes were dark. so dark that there was almost no white left in them, nothing but pure lust present in those black orbs.

“fuck. keep doing that for me.” san groans before removing his fingers, and spearing his tongue into your pink pucker. that about made you lose it right then and there.

“come for me, honey.”

it’s like his words cast some sort of spell on your body, because you came right then and there. your white essence flooded his tongue, and he eagerly swallowed up the sweet taste, groaning loudly and keeping his face stuffed between your thighs.

but even after your mind-shattering orgasm, san didn’t relent with his tongue movements. his continued ministrations left you a broken, whimpering mess, desperately pushing his head to try and find some sort of relief.

“s-sannie— san- it’s too much- please-!” you cried out, choked up moans coming from you.

san responded with a low whine, pushing his tongue harshly between your folds, as if to physically disagree. san’s head then came up from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

“nuh-uh, honey. we’re not stopping now.” san cooed softly. you would’ve melted at the sound of his honeyed words if it weren’t for your body being so sensitive.

pushing his pants down, his hard, leaking cock jutted out from between his legs. the tip was an angry red, demanding to be pleasured. as he shimmied himself between your legs and hooked them around his waist, you knew you’d be in for a long night.

then again, it wasn’t like you minded.

“we ain’t stopping ‘till i get to cum. and i’ll be sure to fill you up so good, babe.”

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fadedtoneverland © 2024 | do not steal, modify or repost ANY of my work.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[byjove-cannibalcove]

my uncle (who 15 years later is a super anti-trans pro-trump guy) when i told him i was trans as a teenager: starts explaining to me that i should date older divorced women "because if they are used goods theyll just be glad anyone is willing to take them, which is how (2007 version of the phrase 'low value men') like us get 9s and 10s, ive NEVER dated below a 7, hot girls get desperate when they're older" --(coincidentally we stopped to eat and even though i was not attempting to pass i walked into the womens bathroom and a man saw me doing it and GRABBED ME and scolded me and tried to push me towards the men room and i froze up, squeaked, hurried into the womens room, he went and got a manager, i had to go 'no im a girl' like it was.. not fun! a very BAD first accidental passing situation! i only felt miserable embarrassed and in danger. )

a year or so later, coming out to my dad id only recently met as being a 16ish year old Lesbian (because i didnt trust him enough to come out as trans): 'oh okay, cool, lets go to hooters and oggle the waitresses, they are hot but stupid haha, i like stupid girls the most (note, his gf was 20 years younger than him) but id FUCK Sarah Palin, im only going to vote for Mccain just because Palin is HOT, hey did you hear they made a porn of her lookalike? yeah i know she hates gay people (and you are gay) but who cares, shes fUCKABLE i dont care what shes SAYING i just care about her BOOBS'

when i was about 18 during the training week for my first ever job at krogers i managed to pass without realizing it until the dudes invited just me (not the 1 girl) to eat lunch with them and just IMMEDIATELY started talking about fucking girls, girls being worthless if they were ugly and 'if theyre ugly just fuck em in the mouth hahaha' and HEY you know what i did NOT feel liek one of the boys, i felt like i was IN DANGER if they clocked me!! i did not feel like id gotten a special pass to the Fun Misogyny World where id get paid more, i was a 5'2" spotty teen boy working his first ever job as a grocery bagger who was now kind of scared his new coworkers might kill him, because ALL id done to pass was have short hair, be naturally kinda ugly, and have a gender-neutral nickname. none of my bosses thought i was a guy, they could find out at any second (as soon as we got back from lunch, evern) , that i was a worthless ugly girl that had invaded their space for their private conversatoin and maybe theyd decide to to show me what they meant!!!???

i have pretty much never managed to pass Ever Again after that point as far as i know, just a handful of times where a service worker went 'sir' to me, so these are pretty much the only times ive ever passed and it wasnt super fun!! so like!! maybe if youre a big huge strong tough trans guy with a spine of steel, complete confidence in your ability to pass and defend yourself, are in a highpowered/skilled enough environment to not worry about your job opportunities, maybe in that case invitations to the Fun Special Misogyny Club are being handed out even if you disclose that youre trans and hey, maybe its even fun to be there! ... but acting like thats the DEFAULT is just insane.

I'm this close to just sending that trans inclusive radical misogynist post, the one about how there's loads of guys who'll go "oh, you're a man now, great, come shit talk women with us" to every blog insisting that trans men can't have male privilege and it's transandrophobia to say they do. Not every trans man has this experience but it's actually pretty common even for out trans men to be seen as, if not "real" men depending on who you ask, certainly non-women, and encouraged to perform misogyny as part of their social transition.

[babygorewhore]

You can be just friends…right?

Best friend Rafe Cameron x alt!fem reader!

Being polar opposites of Rafe Cameron at first you clashed but eventually, you became close. After driving you to his house to celebrate an accomplishment, Rafe sees Topper hitting on you and finally lets himself be vulnerable.

Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll for helping me with the headers and letting me brainstorm! @cyberangel-graphics divider credit!

Warnings! Reader is inspired by Wednesday Addams! Season 4 era Rafe. Canon! Rafe! Oral! Fem receiving, praise, he lightly holds readers neck, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, barely edited because I’m ill.

“For someone who dresses like a witch, you take the girliest drinks.” Rafe set the coffee cup in front of you and sat across from you. You gave him a side glance while typing on your laptop, mumbling a thanks.

Rafe Cameron, an unlikely companion you met in your junior year in high school while he was a senior a long time ago. The friendship evolved after a healthy rivalry because you met his horrible attitude with dry wit.

But you had a fondness for the crash out oldest Cameron offspring. Who was arranging meetings and “handling business.” As he liked to put it. You were writing up the latest chapter of your fan fiction. A popular story that got good traction. It was also something Rafe never ceased to tease you about whenever he glanced at the words you came up with.

Rafe insisted on driving you to local animal shelter you volunteered at twice a week because normally you walked or drove the quote, “Death trap.” That he threatened to have removed from your garage.

And due to his busy schedule, this was one of the few times during the week you were able to physically spend time together.

“You hear the news about Sarah and uh, John B?” Rafe bright your attention away from the musing of your thoughts and you met his icy stare.

“My relationship with your middle sister is polite at best, Rafe. So, no.” You quipped and he exhaled sharply.

“Why do you talk like that-nevermind. Nah, she’s having a baby and I need help picking out a gift. She doesn’t know the gender yet but I could use your help.” He sounded…pained and you gently closed your laptop.

Your black nail polish shined, the skull ring on your ring finger a gift from Rafe six months ago. “Babies aren’t exactly my specialty, Rafe and seeing you as an Uncle is really funny but can’t you get Wheezie to help you?”

“Wow, okay, I come to you with a genuine question and you’re blowing me off.” He accused and you lightly kicked him with a boot.

“Enough with the dramatics. I’ll sign my name on the card and we’ll consider that my contribution.”

“A card? For what?” You huffed at his lack of knowledge.

“I suppose I can…try.”

That interaction concluded a typical day between you both. Later that week, Rafe landed a massive business deal that secured a lot of money. Naturally, your outgoing best friend wanted to celebrate. His definition of having a good time and yours differed massively.

Rafe announced that he was having a party and you were coming. He didn’t ask. Knowing you’d say no so instead his solution was to show up to your apartment, holding a black bag and a large cup of coffee.

“Don’t look at me like that, Monster High. Just take the bag.” Rafe ordered and you accepted it. He stepped inside your home, leaned against the wall and made a motion with his hand.

“Go change and I’m taking you to my place.” He saw the way your nose crinkled and his hands set firmly on your shoulders.

Physical contact wasn’t uncommon from Rafe but lately it happened a lot more. Brushes against your back, a hand on the knee or smoothing away your hair. You weren’t the best at guessing intentions so it made you feel conflicted.

You liked it. You liked the gestures. And you were embarrassed to. Your best friend made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in commitments and verbalizing his emotions definitely wasn’t his strong suit.

You wrote it off as pure thoughtless action as you changed clothing in your bedroom. You glanced in the mirror, already knowing it fit perfectly. It was a black dress, shorter than you normally wore and the bodice hugged your curves.

You came out, after customizing the outfit with fishnets and chunky shoes. Rafe straightened, his tall form stiffening at the sight of you approaching him. His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.

“Let’s go.”

You had busied yourself with setting up the music, straightening furniture and making sure the pool sparking until Rafe basically hauled you to socialize. You knew the guests but didn’t particularly enjoy them. But Rafe liked attention. He liked being around people who admired him and earning respect. He walked off, momentarily distracted by Barry and you took the opportunity to speed walk to the kitchen.

You poured yourself a soda, revealing in the brief moment of quiet when you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you saw Topper side step and stand before you. He gave you a friendly smile and instinctively pulled you into a greeting hug. You barely returned it, grimacing at the unwelcome contact and stood awkwardly.

“Hello.”

“Hey, how you doing? You look beautiful.” You almost felt…bad for him. You knew he meant it but he was just so…not your type.

“Thank you, Topper. How are you?” You felt like chewing glass at the small talk but he seemed to take it the wrong way. Topper moved even closer, mustering all the charm he could.

“Better now that I’m talking to you, pretty girl. What made you decide to join a party? It’s not your scene, huh?”

God, you wanted the earth to swallow you. But if you left, you’d be back with the crowd and loud music. Sweaty bodies and the sweltering sun. You debated sending a smoke signal but Topper’s hand fell on your arm.

Your eyes widened and he leaned down to whisper. “I mean we can always go somewhere more private.”

“For what?” You questioned and moved your head back.

“Jesus, I leave for two seconds and you’re already chomping at the bit, bro.” Rafe’s voice sounded more like salvation but the anger in his eyes took you aback.

“She’s off limits, man and I’ve told you that shit more than once. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Rafe touched his fingers to his temples and you looked back and forth between the males.

“I didn’t realize that she was collared by you, Rafe. Thought you were just friends?” Topper shot back and you peered at Rafe.

“It’s not a big deal, Rafe. Why are you acting like this?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“Just leave her alone. She obviously doesn’t like you.” Rafe gave Topper a threatening glare and you rolled your eyes.

You crossed your arms and stepped directly in front of your best friend.

“What’s going on with you? Lately, you’ve been different. Short tempered, more than before and now this. Is there something going on?”

Your direct question made Rafe take hold of your elbow. “cmon. I don’t wanna do this right here.”

“No. You can tell me here. Now.” You sternly replied and swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe looked on the verge of losing his mind and he looked at Topper. “Will you take a fucking hint, dude? Go!” He shooed him and you heard footsteps descending.

You held your ground and stared him in the eye. “I’m waiting.”

“Look. I know this was a weird, shitty way to do this and you know I’m not good at the whole feeling thing. But I wanted to do something nice for you tonight. I wanted you to-I wanted to tell you that you’re important to me.” He was stumbling and scratching the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow. “So…you throw a party, knowing I don’t like them, drive me here after buying me this dress just to tell me I’m important?” You parroted and he groaned.

“No! I mean-yeah but-damn it.” Rafe stopped speaking but cupped the back of your head. You gasped as he brought his lips to yours in a slightly open mouthed kiss. His other hand pressed you against him by splaying on your lower back, deepening your lip lock.

His mouth was soft, dominant as he met your tongue and squeezed your hip. Shock disappeared and you kissed him back. Your stomach had butterflies and your center tightened as Rafe’s thick fingers found the top of your ass.

Your lipstick was most likely ruined as Rafe sucked your lower lip but ripped himself away. He breathed heavily and tossed a side glance around him.

“Let’s go,” He took your hand and started quickly walking. You jogged to keep up with his pace.

“Rafe, where are we going?” You asked but he kept moving, his steps quick and you saw the familiar door of his bedroom.

He pulled you inside, closing the door behind him and he went to bring you back to him but you held up a palm.

“Wait. What, what is this?” You were finally collecting your thoughts after the heated kiss, your nerve endings in overdrive and your skin burning. Catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, you saw your smeared lipstick and you sighed exasperatedly.

“What’s what? I told you earlier,” Rafe began but you interrupted.

“I know what you said. But what does that mean? In this moment. Do you just want to hook up? Is that why you just brought me in here? Is that all you want?” He didn’t miss the pointed accusation but he didn’t respond in anger.

Rafe touched his shaved scalp, chest deflating. “I get why you’d think that but no. I don’t wanna just fuck you. I like you. I like your little weird quirks. I like how you’re not afraid of what people think. I don’t want you to be any different.”

You remained silent, letting him find his words.

“Look. It’s more than…liking you. I love you,” Rafe spoke your name with a tenderness you rarely heard. Your heart swelled at his confession.

“Seeing you is the best part of my week. Talking to you is one of the only things that keep me from losing my mind. You’ve been there for me when everything went to shit and when I lost my dad (TW WARD mention)” Rafe took a step forward, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch you.

“And you’re always calling me out when I act like a dick. Which is a lot.” He bit his lower lip and your gaze flickered between his face to the floor.

“I mean can you blame me? For falling for you?” Rafe chuckled, bright teeth showing and you swallowed. Trying to moisten your dry mouth.

“Rafe, this doesn’t seem real.” You confessed. “I mean you’ve always talked about not wanting to settle down and why should I believe that I’ll be any different?”

Rafe perked up, not dissuaded and his palms finally settled on your waist. It was comfortable, despite the way your belly hurtled at his attempt at being gentle.

“Wait, that’s not a no. That’s not a rejection, do you love me?”

You felt completely naked. He was imploring you with his perfect face and intense eye contact. You weren’t good at living in the moment. You were always overthinking. And this wasn’t a cookie cutter situation. Rafe had problems. Deep ones. So did you.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes, Rafe. I love you too.” It was a shaky admission but he seized the opportunity and kissed you again.

He pressed so hard you could feel his teeth and he looped his arms around your back. Rafe lifted you off the ground, making you squeak in surprise and he landed you both on his bed.

You’d fantasized about this plenty of times but it was even better. Rafe was strong, his firm body easily weighed yours down and he effortlessly shifted your body higher. He cupped your jaw and massaged your tongue with his.

You moaned softly and then louder as he kneaded your tits. Rafe messily peppered kisses along your neck, sucking your sweet spot and your back arched. His ring clad fingers were warm as he lifted the bottom of your dress up. Exposing your body and black underwear.

“God you’re so fucking pretty. You gonna let me show you that, baby?” He breathed and dragged his lips against your upper stomach, down, down and Rafe inhaled the scent from your open legs.

His big hands peeled off your panties and he grunted deep in his chest as he looked at the wetness in the center.

“Well, you’ve been needing this, huh?” Rafe mused and caused you to whimper as he dragged his tongue to the middle of your underwear.

“If that tastes sweet, I bet the source is even better.” Without another second hesitation, Rafe pushed your thighs apart, encouraging you to put them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back as he dived in.

Rafe didn’t eat pussy that often. He usually warmed a girl up with his fingers before fucking her senseless. But with you, his dick throbbed at the taste of your cunt as he lapped away. He was a little aggressive, moving his head back and forth. Digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs but your groans and the way you set your hand on his head drove him crazy.

“Mhm, fuck, yeah i know. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Rafe praised and separated your folds. He sucked your clit and gently nipped with his teeth. Soothing it immediately and you were almost seeing stars as you rode his face.

He gave you an encouraging slap on the ass and brought you impossibly closer. You knew he probably couldn’t breathe but when Rafe tongue fucked your entrance and then dragged back to your clit it caused you to be embarrassingly loud.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming-Rafe-“ you chanted and he pried your legs back open to lick you through it. Your body trembled and your eyes fluttered open as he crawled up.

The sight of his glistening chin and mouth was the hottest thing. Rafe gripped your cheeks. “Give me those fucking lips,” And he fused them together.

You tasted the remnants of yourself as you put your hands underneath his shirt. Rafe impatiently took it off, quickly kissing you again and his fingers made work to remove his pants.

“Gonna fill you up, princess. Need to fuck your pussy,” He almost sounded on the brink of begging and you sighed in admiration as you glanced at his cock.

Rafe took the leaking tip and ran it along your slit. Tapping the head against your puffy clit and he pushed into you. The stretch ached for a second but then the way he hit the deepest spot in you made your eyes roll back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and Rafe moaned deep in his chest. His lips found your ear, “You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting this. You can take it, atta girl.”

He clamped your thigh down, holding it against the mattress, spreading you as open as possible and his other hand settled lightly around your neck. Your mouth parted and Rafe thrusted harder. Balls thudding against your ass.

“Taking me like a good girl, that’s it. Move with me,” Rafe ordered and you were fucked out completely but obeyed him.

You took his fingers in your mouth when he moved his hand, sucking softly and Rafe smiled at you with his slight smugness.

“Just Fucking your best friend and you’re already brainless. Give it to me, let me have your cum,” Rafe looked down at your connected bodies and gave you a deep roll of his hips.

You let out a sob, tears streaming down your face and mascara running down your cheeks. Your orgasm came like a tidal wave and you buried your face into Rafe’s neck, biting lightly on his shoulder.

Rafe was right behind you, emptying his cum in your pussy and he moaned thickly. His arms squeezed you a bit too tight but it was comforting. You still moved, hooking your knee against his ribcage and flipped him on his back.

Rafe let out a noise of surprise but then his blue eyes were darkened with lust. Your hands ran down his chest as sweat decorated your skin. Your jeweled fingers and bracelets clinked as you teasingly dragged your nails on his shoulders.

“I like seeing you confident. It’s hot.” Rafe smirked and reached up to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. “Mmm, you’re so pretty y’know? I’ve always thought that. Even with all that on your face.”

You rolled your eyes but gave him a returning smile. Straddling his lap, you gently bounced right above his dick. “Bet you’re just saying that.”

He rested his head back, cupping your ass and meeting your motions. “Nah, you know I mean it.”

“So, what now?”

“We figure it out. But for now,” Rafe leaned up and you felt his abs tighten. “You gonna let me feel that pretty little pussy again?”

Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @marchsfreakshow @dirtylittlefairytales @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @gri959 @userchai @eddieslut69 @rafeinterlude @eddiesxangel @rafeyscurtainbangs @fear-is-truth @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab

[heavyhitterheaux]

Two Little Suspects

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Y/N and her husband do the suspect challenge featuring her twin brother Ja'Marr

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @languageho3 and @hoodharlow 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sighing as you heard the doorbell rang as soon as you had sat down at the couch instantly annoyed you. Joe was somewhere in the house and probably in his office downstairs going over film and figured that you had to be the one to answer the door.

As you approached the foyer, you could make out the tall shape of your twin brother without even having to see him face to face and quickly opened the door.

Even though he had literally been over for breakfast earlier that morning.

“So, ugly twin has returned. What do you want? Didn’t I just feed you like an hour ago?” You asked as you looked at your phone to see what the time was and he quickly rolled his eyes.

“Move your ass over so I can come in and besides that was breakfast and now I’m here for lunch.”

“Do I look like an all you can eat buffet to you?! Groceries are EXPENSIVE and you and Joe eat like yall have never seen food before in your LIVES.”

“Hmm, not to me but definitely probably to your husband. The all you can eat buffet I mean and um, so? He’s the highest paid quarterback in the league, he can afford it. Where is he by the way?”

“Minding his business which you should be doing sir. You have your own house, but no one would ever know it because you are literally here all the time. And I’m ignoring that first part.” You told him as you sat down on the couch as he sat next to you.

“I came over to see you because I was bored.”

“Well, I was about to watch a movie, but I have another idea.”

“Go on.”

“We’re doing the suspect challenge and I’m making Joe do it too because I have something to tell him. Let me go get him, actually I’ll call him because I don’t feel like walking.”

“Lazy ass. But what do you have to tell him?”

“I will put you out of my house if you don’t shut up. And I have to tell him about this.” You told Ja’Marr and showed him the picture that had been in your pocket as you clicked on Husband in your phone and Ja’Marr’s eyes went wide.

He answered on the third ring which had you confused.

“Hmm? Ignoring me, husband? What took you so long to answer?”

“Baby, I literally spent the ENTIRE morning with you besides you leaving earlier. I just wanted to look at film for an hour and I told you then you could have me for the rest of the day and it just so happens that I’m finished.”

“Good, come upstairs and pay me some attention.”

“What kind of attention? Like? Are you naked right now?” Joe asked as he whispered the last part and your eyes went wide.

“NO! Your best friend is here…. Again I might add talking about he's ready for lunch and getting on my last nerve as usual.”

“Don’t listen to her Joe!” Ja’Marr yelled and you immediately pinched him.

Joe’s laughter boomed through the phone as you could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. Once he reached the top step, he hung up and made his way to the living room where both of you were to see Ja’Marr now deep in a bag of Doritos and leaned down to kiss you.

“Wait, where did those come from?” You asked him as he was crunching in your ear because he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch and you didn’t remember buying any Doritos.

“The grocery store.”

“I will…. One of these days I am going to beat your ass for that smart mouth you have. But anyway everybody up and outside!”

“Why?! It’s our bye week! I want to relax!” Ja’Marr whined as Joe was just standing there.

“Because I said so and I’m the boss. We’re doing the suspect challenge.”

“NO.” Joe immediately protested and tried to run away, but you quickly grabbed him by his waist.

“YES! You are doing it and I don’t want to hear any complaints. You two outside, NOW.”

The three of you were now lined up on the pavement in your long driveway and you were up first as you handed Ja’Marr your phone to record it.

“You ready?” He asked and you simply nodded as you took off running.

“Suspect has the attitude of someone who is 6’5, but she’s only 4’11.”

You stopped running as he finished while Joe was trying not to laugh.

“AND?!?! The two of you would crumble without me. Give me that phone. Ja’Marr, you’re up.”

“Be nice to me now.”

“I’m never nice to you anyway, so why would that change? Anyway, start running.” You told him as you pulled down your sleeves because you were starting to get cold.

Ja’Marr did what he was told as you thought of something good to say.

“Hmm, the suspect claims that he comes over to see his twin sister, but is really trying to steal my man.”

“HE WAS MINE FIRST!” Ja’Marr exclaimed as you motioned for Joe to go next even though he was too busy laughing.

“You’re just another one of his groupies! Now come on, husband.”

“Here we go because I already know some wild shit is about to come out of your mouth.” He muttered and all you did was smirk at him as he started running.

“Suspect won’t let me hold it when he pees.”

“NOT YALL BEING NASTY.” Ja’Marr yelled as Joe was too busy laughing.

“Come on, babe. Just one time?!” You asked and your brother looked at both of you in disgust.

“No! And get over here because it’s your turn.”

“Make it a good one.”

“Suspect claims that she doesn’t want kids right now, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around me last night.” Joe finished and your eyes went wide.

You and Ja’Marr collectively gasped and all he did was pinch the bridge of his nose as you turned to Joe.

“No regrets, my husband is fine as FUCK. Just look at those frosted tips. I plan on wrapping…”

“OKAY, MOVING ON! SPARE ME THE DETAILS!”

“Ja’Marr don’t you want a niece or a nephew?” Joe asked him and he sighed.

“A smaller version of the two of you? I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

Now it was Ja’Marr’s turn and he was smiling because he was waiting for you to tell Joe the news while Joe was going to record and he got into position.

“Suspect set me up with his sister and then proceeded to get mad when he found out that we were in a relationship and didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”

“AHT AHT! Because the two of you hid it from me! Nice try.”

“We didn’t hide it!” You exclaimed as Joe was getting into position for Ja’Marr to record him.

“You didn’t exactly tell the truth either. Anyway, moving on. Suspect is one of my best friends and because of him this is the happiest I’ve ever seen my twin sister even though the two of them make me sick.” As soon as he was finished Joe turned the camera to the two of you to show him leaning down to kiss you.

“Aww, that was cute. I guess you are okay, sometimes.” You told him as he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me take it back.” He told you as you took your phone back to record your brother.

“Suspect is the ugly twin who was found in a dumpster behind Popeyes in a back alley.”

“WE LOOK ALIKE, DUMBASS! And I just gave you a nice one!”

“YOU’RE ADOPTED! So I don’t know what you’re talking about! And I fed you this morning and that was nice of me! I could have let you starve!”

“I got one for you babe.” You told Joe and he nodded as he began to run.

“Even though suspects claimed that I don’t want kids right now, he’s in for a surprise because I took a pregnancy test two days ago and it was confirmed at my doctor’s appointment this morning. He’s going to be a father of not one, but two little Burrows.”

Joe immediately stopped and turned to you with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Are you serious? Baby, are you serious?” He asked as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

You nodded your head and proceeded to take out the sonogram picture from the pocket of your sweatshirt and handed it to him.

He stared at it for a few seconds before he immediately picked you up and you had wrapped your legs around his waist as he was planting kisses all over your face.

“See? That position right there is why she has two in her. Good lord, I wasn’t ready for one mini version of them and now there’s going to be two?!” Ja’Marr said as he had taken your phone and was now recording you and Joe.

“They’re going to need to pay me if they want me to babysit.”

[jayparked]

hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Elise

Request: Basically the reader is the CEO of some big/famous business and has a crush on her secretary but docent think that he likes her. So one day the Readers Sister come to the office for a visit and they are talking in the readers office and her secretary needs to drop off some important papers and over hears their conversation. So then he knocks on the door and acts like he didn’t hear the conversation. Reader’s sister says high and the reader notices how they interact together. So when the Readers secretary leaves the Reader is like “hey I think that you guys would look good together. He totally likes you.” Kinda stuff. And the sister is confused but docent really think much about it. So the Readers sister is staying in town for their friends wedding or something so the sister is always at the office. One day the Secretary decides to ask the Readers sister for help to get with the Reader. And that’s all I got.

A/N: This was so much fun to write, they are so in love with each other, totally would write more of them. This is kind of soft in a hot way, enjoy!

The CEO's minotaur

Minotaur x chubby fem!reader || semi-public sex, heavy making out, office sex

Your sister is in town after a very long time, and you had missed her so much, but right now, with her nagging at you about not acting on your feelings for your hot minotaur secretary… you aren’t so sure about missing her. (That’s a lie, you totally missed her, but dang if it doesn’t annoy you to be told you are stupid).

“Come on, you need to tell him, see if he feels the same way,” she’s saying. She’s told you that at least three times before in the past couple of days, but you still refuse to believe her. What has a hot minotaur to do with his human boss? Nothing.

“Stop it, you know he doesn’t like me that way,” you try to argue for what feels like the thousandth time. “He’s too goo-” You hear a knock on the door and shut up instantly, motioning your sister to be quiet, too. “Come in.” Said minotaur enters the room making you sigh in pent up frustration. His big form looks extra good today, and it does nothing to make you feel any less intense about him.

“I need you to sing these papers, ma'am,” his tone is so formal, and he keeps sending side looks to your sister as she tries to repress her laughter.

“Yes, sure, come here.” You sign the papers he puts on your desk as you tell him: “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me ma’am, just use my name.”

“Okay…” He says, but you know he’s going to do it again. It almost feels like he likes to call you that, like it gives him some sort of satisfaction to act so proper around you. But that can’t be, right? There’s no way.

You exchange a few more words as he tells you about the calls and schedule for the rest of the day. You give him a list of a few things you need him to do as he smiles, a soft blush covering his cheeks and making you press your tights together. Fuck, you need to get it together.

When he leaves you look at your sister, who is covering her mouth with her hand trying to repress the giggles you bet she’s holding. “Don’t,” you warn her, already anticipating what she’s going to say.

She shuts her mouth but smiles brightly at you, changing topics. A while later, when your lunch break is over and your sister is leaving, she says: “For the record, he totally likes you.” She closes the door just in time to avoid the paper-clip you throw her way, her laughter heard even across the closed door.

Your sister stays in town a few more days, dropping by your office to have lunch with you every single day, saying it’s not always that she can spend time with her CEO sister in her important job. You laugh it out, but you are secretly glad she spends time with you every time she comes to the city. You miss her like crazy when she’s not there, and calls just aren’t the same.

That’s how you are about to round the corner when you hear her voice, talking to someone who shows up in your dreams way too often. “Then how do I approach her?” Your secretary says with a soft tone that makes goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“Just tell her you like her!” Your sister whisper-shouts. She was never good at being subtle.

“But- But… She doesn’t like me back. She’s my boss, and so good. She’s so pretty and powerful, and her aura is so sexy at the same time as kind… And I’m just a minotaur.” You hate the self-depreciation words coming out of his mouth. You want to scream at him that he’s wrong. That you are head over heels for him. Then he says: “She’s just so much better than me,” and you had enough.

You turn the corner and stare at his stunned face. “You are wrong,” you tell him.

Your sister is smiling so big you want to be annoyed with her, but you just can’t. Thanks to her you were able to hear him say those things about you. Fuck, she’s going to hold that over you forever, isn’t she? But at that moment you don’t even care. You just care about his sweet face all blushed in the prettiest shade of brown as he looks at you with big eyes and the hint of a smile.

“I’m going to take that as my cue to leave, have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She tells as she almost runs to the elevator.

You two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. You scan his form, his proper clothes and soft fur, the way his horns are so big they almost reach the ceiling, the sweet smile that’s spreading across his features as he registers your flushed face. You don’t know who moves first, but before you can process it, you two are in each other personal space, and he’s looking at you intently.

“Can I kiss you?” You don’t even respond, grabbing his horns and pulling him down to devour his mouth in the most hot kiss you’ve ever given (or received).

You make out like teenagers, his hands all over your body as yours explore his. It’s intoxicating to finally be able to kiss him like that, to be able to touch him the way you’ve been waiting for so fucking long. He’s driving you insane in the best way possible and, judging by his moans, he’s no better.

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you chant against his lips, pushing him softly to your office.

He hauls you up and your legs come around his waist. He walks you to your desk and sits you over it, doing the whole wiping-everything-off-the-table thing, the most cliche move of all times. You giggle as he kisses down your neck, his horns right in front of your face as you grab them to control his movements a bit more. You pull him up and devour his mouth again.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m so fucking gone for you,” he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your boobs over the fabric of your clothes as you moan. You can’t even tell him you feel the same way, your brain is foggy with desire as you palm the huge erection inside his pants.

“Take me, then. Make me yours,” you ask softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he tells you with a smirk. You kiss him again, your hands working on his clothes to open them. You think some of the buttons of his shirt fly away, but you can’t care less.

He moves you enough to get your pants off your legs, ripping your underwear as you gasp. His strength turning you on so much you want to scream his name, but instead, you bite his neck to avoid making too much noise. You can’t forget you aren’t alone in the office, the other’s cubicles might be a few hallways away, but if you let out all the noise you want, they will definitely hear, and that wouldn’t be too professional of the CEO of the company.

He apparently can read your mind, because he whispers against your ear: “One of these days I’m going to hear your sweet lips screaming my name as I pound into you,” you groan at his words.

His fingers find your needy hole, pushing one inside without preamble as he starts finger-fucking you into a mess of arousal and pent up frustration. His thumb is on your clit when the second finger enters you, making you move your hips to ride his hand. He hums in contentment, urging you to move faster, to get all your pleasure off him.

“I need you, can I… Can I fuck you?” You take a second to process his words, your brain lost in pleasure to what his hand is doing.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you agree vehemently as he chuckles, taking his fingers away from your dripping cunt and spreading your juices over his dick. When you look down to see, you have to swallow a gasp at the sheer size of him. “You are so big,” you let out without wanting to, covering your mouth in embarrassment.

He chuckles again, caressing your cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t worry, ma’am, it will fit.” You don’t doubt his words, seeing as you are fucking drenched with desire.

When you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy, you throw your head back, moaning like a whore as the tapered head breaches you. He breathes hard against your neck, his panting making everything hotter. He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until he’s so deep inside you can almost taste it in the back of your throat.

Your fucking is frantic and desperate. You kiss each other with such desperation that you end up panting against each other mouth’s. It’s so hot and needy, is the climax of so much pent up sexual tension between you two that your orgasm catches you off guard.

“I’m about to…” You don’t finish the phrase before your body is convulsing and your pussy is fluttering around his girth as he curses loudly.

You bury your face in his neck to muffle your sounds as you come apart in his arms, the pleasure so high it’s almost blinding. He follows you over the edge not three thrusts after, and the feel of his come painting your insides is enough to send you over a second orgasm. You bite down on his neck muscles hard, making him groan and shot another load into your tingling pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when your heart slows down a bit.

“Give me a few minutes,” he jokes, making you giggle.

[motomamita]

loser!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, cunnilingus, sex!

loser!könig

a simple photo of your breasts was enough for könig to become the most submissive and needy being in the entire universe. And how to blame him? It was the first time that a girl agreed to have a conversation with him without leaving him in seen or blocking him.

from that moment on, not a day went by when könig sent you a good morning message or a photo of his fat cock showing through his jeans. sometimes you ignored him or took a while to respond, but he always answered instantly. könig didn't mind staying up late talking to you or having to look at his cell phone constantly waiting for your response, he loved the little attention you gave him.

some nights he would surprise you by sending you videos of him masturbating while moaning your name and telling you in an agitated voice how much he needed you there with him. he set your photo as his wallpaper and, sooner rather than later, asked for your bank account information to send you money every time you delayed responding.

soon könig proposed that you meet him in his city, he wanted to meet you in person. you hesitated at his proposal but soon changed your mind when you noticed the amount of money he had sent you, it was enough to pay for a plane ticket to his city. it was all paid for, so how can you say no?

you met könig in a hotel room that he had reserved for both of you. in photos he looked huge and in person it was even more so. he covered almost the entire door frame, his muscles were visible through his t-shirt and his face expressed absolute desire. in his hand he carried a bouquet of roses that he had bought especially to receive you and a bottle of champagne.

you both didn't talk much. there was no need either, you both knew what you were going for.

könig had you under him, hugging your bare legs preventing you from escaping while his big cock entered and exited you. your pussy stretched deliciously with each thrust while your clitoris rubbed against his skin. könig breathed close to your face, fixing his gaze on every expression of pleasure and how you desperately asked him to slow down a little.

"cutie, i can't stop, i can't..."

könig increased the speed of his thrusts, sinking you into the mattress and approaching your face to kiss you desperately. your tongues played with each other and his alcoholic breath invaded you completely.

"are you going to cum? uh? i can feel your pussy squeezing my fat cock. come on, cum in my mouth."

könig pulled out of you and brought his mouth to your wet pussy. he licks and sucks every part of your folds like he's wanted to do it for a long time, and he did. he brought his large hands to your thighs and squeezed them tightly, preventing you from closing your legs.

you pulled his hair hard as your orgasm hit. könig moaned over your pussy and tried to collect all your flavor with his tongue.

before you could react, he sat up and positioned himself on top of you jerking his cock quickly while moaning your name. in a matter of seconds his abundant warm cum fell onto your belly and a moan of relief left his mouth.

"fuck, cutie... now, can you let me cum inside you, please, please?"

with a face like that, how can you refuse? :(

[thankskenpenders]

IDW's Knuckles 30th Anniversary special

I'm still working on finishing Shadow Generations and writing up a big thing about it (yes, yes, it's taken me a month to finish a four hour game, I know), but in the meantime we've got another new Classic era comic out from IDW! Let's talk about that.

The last Classic era release we got was the Fang miniseries earlier this year, which I mostly enjoyed but also found a bit underwhelming. It felt like we were getting diminishing returns with the Classic comics. Ian seemed to be struggling to make the Classic era feel fresh within Sega's current restrictions for that branch of the brand, a branch that by its very nature discourages experimentation and new ideas in a way that the ever-evolving Modern era doesn't. He was mostly just playing the hits, sticking the currently permitted Classic era characters next to each other in straightforward one-off adventures and letting the art team do their thing. We were getting the Ian who was happy to simply be able to take these toys out of the toy box. Again, these comics have been fine, and the art's always a treat, but the novelty of simply seeing a comic with the old character designs was wearing off for me when the stories didn't have as much meat as Ian's (or Evan's) excellent Modern era work.

And then along comes this Knuckles 30th Anniversary special, which is by far my favorite Classic Sonic comic Ian's written for IDW.

...I can't really talk about why it's so good without getting into spoilers, though. The short version is that it's a really nice little story about Knuckles and another character from the games, who's used as a great foil for him... except the solicit didn't even say which character it is, so I'm hesitant to say here. But if you're a fan of Knuckles, you should definitely just go read this. It's great. This one's mandatory reading to me.

And with that out of the way, let's dig deeper and get into the spoilers.

The spoiler zone

After an opening that very blatantly homages Tyson Hesse's old Knuckles comic (yes, the very same one that helped inspire the name of this blog), Knuckles realizes that Angel Island has drifted near the Northstar Islands from Sonic Superstars, and decides that the Master Emerald must be giving him a mission to train the archipelago's own resident guardian.

Yes, this isn't just a Knuckles comic. It's a Knuckles and Trip comic!

I was really delighted by this. I like Trip a lot, and it's nice to get this chance to expand upon her as a character. I think this is her first speaking role, even? I'm glad to see her stick around, and I'm glad to see her appear in the comics so soon, especially since we're still waiting for the mainline comics to incorporate Sage. She's still clumsy and fairly timid, like in the game, but without the looming thread of Eggman she gets to let loose a little. She's very exuberant and expressive and playful, especially thanks to Aaron Hammerstrom's fantastic art throughout the issue (complemented with inks by Rik Mack and colors by Valentina Pinto). It makes sense why she gets along so well with Amy. I hope we get to see those two interact more in the future!

Anyway, so Knuckles shows up on the Northstar Islands after contemplating his lot in life, and realizes that he and Trip have a lot in common. She's not as strong or confident as him, but they're both the last of their kind, these lone guardians of these ancient magical gemstones. He's showing up under the pretense of training her, but you can tell it's nice for him to have a kindred spirit, someone who might be able to really get him.

And then Trip's like... wait, you think I'm the last of my kind?

Yes, the Northstar Islands have actually been inhabited by a whole civilization of sungazers like Trip the whole time! We just didn't see them in the game because, y'know. Eggman was attacking. So Trip told everyone to find shelter and hide from the Badniks. (This actually makes a lot of sense, since you pass by this very village in Speed Jungle Zone. Somebody's gotta maintain those straw roofs and light those torches, and I can't imagine Trip managing all that upkeep herself.)

This also includes a grandfather for Trip, who's been training her as the archipelago's new guardian. Naturally, this has led to some speculation from fans about the old "mandates." In the wake of the Penders lawsuits and Archie's reboot, Sega declared that the comics could no longer create comic-original relatives for the game characters. Has that changed now?

Well, I'm hesitant to read too much into this. For one, as Ian has tried to drill into peoples' heads for years now, the so-called "mandates" aren't a set of concrete commandments from Sega, they just have some general guidelines for the brand, some of which have more wiggle room than others and some of which have changed over time. There's also the simple fact that Sega is working way more closely with the team at IDW, and that people like Ian and Evan are literally on the official Sonic lore team now. Ian can presumably work with the lore team and Sega to figure out Trip's family, and then go and work what they've decided on into a comic, so it's entirely possible Trip's grandpa isn't considered a comic-original character so much as he's a character conceptualized at Sega who just happens to have appeared in an IDW comic before anything else. The lines are a lot blurrier now with all this cross-pollination, compared to the Archie days when it was a separate creative team and a separate canon.

But, again, I don't want to speculate too heavily about what goes on behind the scenes. Regardless, Ian was able to use this comic to expand upon the world of the games and the characters that inhabit it, and I love it for that. It's the first of these Classic comics that feels like truly mandatory reading for the way it builds upon the games. These days we so rarely get to see communities like this in the Sonic world with their own cultures. It's not like we know anything about "hedgehog culture" or whatever. So this is a nice change of pace. The Northstar Islands feel totally different now that I know they've actually been inhabited the whole time, and knowing that Trip is part of an active community with their own history and customs puts a whole new spin on her as a character.

It also makes her a great foil for Knuckles here. He showed up on the island thinking he'd have a lot to teach Trip as someone who's got more life experience as a lone guardian, only to realize his assumptions about her life were completely wrong. Trip brags to her grandpa that Knuckles is gonna train her, but he quickly realizes he doesn't have much to teach her. She may be kind of cowardly, but she knows her way around the island, she can think on her feet, and she can handle herself well enough in a fight, in her own slapstick way.

He doesn't say as much, but you can tell Knuckles is embarrassed about all this. This clumsy kid is showing him up, even though she won't even really listen to his advice! He's also, perhaps, a bit jealous. It's not like he had a grandfather to train him in the ways of being a guardian. (Not in this continuity, anyway.) He doesn't get a whole village of echidnas to teach him about his heritage. He doesn't get fancy ceremonial armor. It's just him, a big green rock, and his two fists. He thought he had this whole guardian thing figured out, and he'd be able to give a kindred spirit like Trip some advice, but it turns out she's lived a whole different life, making him question if he even knows what he's doing. He quickly gets fed up with both Trip and himself, blowing up at her a little.

After reflecting a bit, Knuckles goes back to Trip and comes clean. He doesn't really know how to train her, because no one ever trained him. He figured things out on his own. If he had anyone there to raise him, they've been gone since he was too young to remember. He just knows he has to protect the Master Emerald. That's it. It's a pretty vulnerable moment for Knuckles, one where his dissatisfaction with his life comes to the surface.

Still, Trip sees things differently. He may be used to the fact that he lives on a giant floating island powered by a giant magic emerald, but she thinks that's, like, the coolest thing in the world. HER islands don't fly! And while Knuckles might wish he had someone to train him, Trip thinks that Knuckles becoming such a fearsome fighter all on his own, without even armor to protect him, makes him super awesome and admirable. With both of them feeling better, Trip takes Knuckles to Golden Capital to talk about her heritage as a guardian of the Northstar Islands a bit more, and Knuckles tells her that he thinks she'll be a great guardian before he heads home, once again feeling pretty good about himself.

While this is a pretty straightforward little story about how the grass is always greener on the other side, it's a very effective and sweet one that I enjoyed reading a ton. Aside from the fun of learning more about Trip and the Northstar Islands, it's just a great showcase for Knuckles. (It's definitely a way better showcase for him than his Paramount+ show, as much as I took sick pleasure in that show's baffling creative decisions.) There are also some fun details about his life in here, such as the fact that Sonic, Tails, and Amy have taken camping trips to hang out with him on Angel Island, and the fact that he trained Amy in using her hammer better.

It's just real good, and it feels like the most meaningful addition to The Canon out of any of these Classic era comics Ian's written. We're still gonna be getting more in the future, so hopefully this is a sign that Ian and the lore team have found that happy middle ground where they can keep the Classic comics familiar and nostalgic while also being able to branch out and expand upon things.

Speaking of future comics!

Coming attractions

The end of this issue confirms some things that are in the works for IDW Sonic. For one, we're getting a Chaotix 30th Anniversary special next year. Neat! They also mention some kind of Shadow one-shot dropping following the movie, however fans seem split on whether this is referring to a new story or just the "Best of Shadow" compilation one-shot that's coming out next month. So don't get your hopes up about that in case it's the latter, I guess.

And while we're still waiting for issue #75 of the main series, the IDW team is already thinking all the way ahead to #100, which should drop sometime during the 35th anniversary of the franchise in 2026. Clearly the team's still confident about the longevity of IDW Sonic and excited for the future. And I am, too! Bring on #75!

[keferon]

More TexAid mech AU fun! Warnings for Vortex POV (nothing bad actually happens to First Aid but he's sure thinking about it)

====

It felt good to be respected finally. 

Sure First Aid had bitched at Vortex when he was responsible for cleaning him, told him if he was going to murder his pilots he should be at least less messy about it. He’d been so cutely frustrated when the next one had come back with his bones shattered into a fun treasure hunt around the cockpit, bone splintered everywhere. But he also bitched at everyone and everything. 

But when he’d been put in the pilot seat he wasn’t like all the others who thought they could grab his sticks, shove their way into his systems, replace him.

No, First Aid was respectful. When he got in he just strapped in and let Vortex run the show. He had always been a sucker for a pretty twink all tied up for him and scared. 

He delighted in teasing him, wriggling his control sticks a little, moving a little slow to see if he could make him impatient. Give Vortex a reason to punish him. 

But for all that he was a brat at other times First Aid was always so well behaved in his cockpit and always so appreciative of his violence. He could feel the increase in his pulse as Vortex tore apart a monster, the way he never looked away. 

One time Vortex had held a monster up by the throat and slammed it against a building and he had heard First Aid make a soft noise of wanting and he had slowed down his kill, leaving his servo on the monster’s throat as he had rhythmically slammed his blade through the monster’s torso in a way that was suggestive enough that he could feel First Aid squirm before he muttered, “Stop it or someone will notice and think it’s me.” 

Vortex tightened the restraints on First Aid as a reminder of who was in charge and heard him whimper. Vortex considered himself somewhat an expert in the different shades of terrified whimpering and knew that this was one of the fun ones. 

It made him want to have a body again so he could do something with it. He’d never fucked someone in his cockpit, guarded it too jealously, but he could imagine it with First Aid. 

It made him want to splatter First Aid across the cockpit, deep enough into the seams that he’d never really leave no matter how hard it was cleaned. 

The only thing really stopping him was that he could only do that once. 

And once he did First Aid wouldn’t be there to clean him up. His detailing routine had shortened considerably now without the need to mop his pilot out of him but First Aid was still in charge of cleaning the monster gore off of him and out of his outer seams. 

There was talk of First Aid needing to learn more mech maintenance so he could handle Vortex’s internals as well. Vortex still sometimes killed techs in ‘accidents’, as a little treat. He was looking forward to it being First Aid climbing through him. 

There was a little spot he wanted to trap him in and grind his gears against him. It would be just enough to leave a series of perfectly spaced cuts along him. To mark him as Vortex’s. He wondered if he’d get a nice scream out of him? If First Aid would run his hands along the stitches later and feel his teeth on him? 

If he’d wriggle back in through his systems and let him do it again? 

[soft-pine]

1.18 something wicked

say your desk is covered with a pile of paperclips. something wicked is the magnet you drop in the middle and then they all stick to it; they're all connected.

it's all here. the parentification, the neglect, the way john treats dean which sam doesn't witness, the extreme likelihood that john was using his kids as bait, and the intentional, specific, glorious, lovely ways dean has specifically chosen not to be like his dad.

in the flashbacks, we see dean is in charge of feeding and looking after sam for (at least) three days in some random motel room with the shades drawn. he's not even supposed to go outside. he doesn't have a number for john, just the instruction that if john's not back by a certain time, he's supposed to call pastor jim.

we see john giving dean instructions and responsibility (and criticisms) which he's not giving to sam.

dean is at most 11 years old (ep takes place in 2006. dean says the case from when he was a kid was 16-17 years ago (1989/1990). john's journal places it in 1988; dean was 9)

crucially, even as an adult, dean barely talks to sam about what he remembers of the case when he was a kid. he lets go of little bits at a time and absolutely necessary to the case. but he does not want to process what happened. even when he's so torn up that he breaks down and explains what happened, he doesn't want to talk about it. in part, of course, because he's ashamed of failing to kill the shtriga. but also because dean keeps john's secrets (9.07). and even when he doesn't, sam is not who he tends to process with.

but it's deeply impactful to have an episode where we get to see how dean was treated as a child versus how he treats the kids he meets.

dean is so kind to children throughout season 1, from lucas in 1.03 to lily and charlie in 1.05 to michael here. there is something so great about the way he is both clear that the bad things aren't these kid's fault, while also understanding kids have agency and insight.

i know dean is torn up about using michael as bait for the shtriga but feels he doesn't have much of a choice in order to stop the thing. but the conversation he has with michael is so thorough it really gets me.

DEAN: This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day.... Are we good? SAM: A hair to the right... There, there. MICHAEL: What do I do? DEAN: Just stay under the covers. MICHAEL: And if it shows up? DEAN: We'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do you roll off this bed and you crawl under it. MICHAEL: What if you shoot me? DEAN: We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not going to fire until you're clear ok? Have you heard a gunshot before? MICHAEL: Like in the movies? DEAN: It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so. You understand? DEAN: Michael, you sure you wanna do this? DEAN: You don't have to, it's ok, I won't be mad. MICHAEL: No I'm ok. Just don't shoot me. DEAN: We're not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.

what a specific contrast that is with

DEAN hesitates, terrified. As he does JOHN bursts through the front door, gun raised. JOHN: (Shouting) Get out of the way! DEAN ducks and JOHN shoots the shtriga multiple times with his hand gun.

something wicked is up there with monster at the end of the book for episode titles that'll make you crazy if you think about it too much.

some other thoughts are just, the first time i watched this scene i thought i was going to explode with love:

DEAN: Yeah well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.... Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I probably would have just burned a clip in him on principle alone.

moral compass boy i would die for you a thousand times and get up and gladly do it again.

and nothing - i mean nothing - hits like dean's voice cracking over the "if it means anything sometimes i do too." like i could actually go insane.

also watching supernatural is how you fill up a computer disc with pictures of dean looking ever so beautiful. like. look at him!! ethereal!!

also also ilu microaggression michael. they should have brought you back in the finale, king.

[obeymestory]

I don't know if you do these, but could you make a scenario of the demon brothers taking care of MC while they're pregnant with their kid?

Of course!! I was kinda waiting for someone to ask me to do one of those things. <3

Warning!!: Slight mature mentions!! Hope you enjoy this though my dear lambs.

✒ Lucifer 🖋

Would be shocked at the first mention of you being pregnant, asking you to take a test to confirm the pregnancy if you hadn't already, then putting his hand on your belly and feeling a huge sense of admiration towards you for carrying his child, as well as a huge sense of responsibility.

Would do his best to make sure you're always comfortable.

Would help you downstairs even when you're just a few weeks along.

Would probably have you near his desk on something comfortable while he does his paperwork so he could be there immediately if your water were to break.

Would think your food cravings were strange but would fetch the food for you immediately.

Always pick things up for you, even if you just dropped something.

Probably be more stressed in the delivery room than you were because of him wanting everything to go smoothly, and because he's worried about you and your guys' baby. "What's taking the doctor so long?" (Referring to the doctor being late, you're the highest priority to him.)

Have Barbatos make you tea every night to help you relax, especially when you start having contractions.

Would rest his hand gently on your belly while you're napping near him, happy to be the father of a new soul.

Probably wouldn't have coitus with you until he knew it was alright, and even then he would make sure to be gentle, resting his hand on your belly while he pleased you, mainly only focusing on your satisfaction.

Be more focused on you to the point where Diavolo or his brothers would have to do some of his paperwork while he took care of you.

When the baby kicks he immediately rests his head gently on your belly, having a small smile on his face as he remembered that he helped make such a lovely being. "I can't wait to meet you."

💰 Mammon 💸

Would think that you were messing with him at first upon telling him about your pregnancy with his child.

Always wanting you not to be too active and to constantly be comfortable.

Would instantly fetch your cravings and not question them.

Would rest his hand on your belly and rub it every now and then when you both were spending quality time together, especially when watching movies.

Would talk to your belly like the baby was able to listen, mostly complaining about how the baby was making you feel during pregnancy. "Why ya' always gotta make yer' mommy throw up, huh? She's doing all this work for ya', so ya' better be a good kid when ya' come out."

Would freak out as soon as you said your water broke, rushing to get you the care and doctors you needed.

Would probably try stacking poker chips on your belly, considering it both quality time for you and your guys' baby.

Would worry about you during contractions, pouting the whole time and asking if he could do something to ease the pain.

If you were to suggest coitus to him, he would accept immediately, then process what you said and ask if it's okay to do while you're pregnant. He'd be rough or gentle for you as long as you and the baby were safe. "Yes! ...Wait- is dat' okay for us to do?"

Would constantly ask if you were okay, and if you weren't he'd comfort you to the best of his abilities.

When having hot and cold flashes he'd probably fan you with a wad of cash or wrap his arms around you to warm you up.

🪼 Leviathan 🍡

Would think that you're pranking him at first as you said that you were pregnant with his baby, then once you confirmed that it wasn't a prank he'd tear up and hug you happily. "Not funny Y/N... you shouldn't joke like that... w-wait... r-really? I'm gonna be a daddy? *sniffles happily*"

Would cuddle you constantly and hum anime intros as he rubbed your belly, picturing showing your guys' baby a bunch of anime as soon as they were born.

If you were to suggest coitus he would be extremely hesitant to agree, and he would only finger you or eat you out.

Would turn on your favorite anime while you were having mood swings.

Would not know what you meant when you said; "my water broke" and would gasp and instantly call out for his brothers to help you as he made you all comfortable. "Hmm..? Your water broke? What does that mean? O-oh... OH!! The baby's coming!! GUYS- THE BABY'S COMING!!!!-"

Would caress your belly as you had contractions, giving you a worried expression.

Would probably suggest names for the baby first, and the names would be based on anime characters you like, not what characters he liked, what characters YOU like.

Would let you play video games when you had more severe mood swings, like extreme anger.

If it came to it, he wouldn't be mad if you ended up accidentally throwing up in his tub-like bed, he'd clean it up and start putting a little trash bag near you so it wouldn't happen again.

Would buy you a whole new bed so you weren't uncomfortable laying in his tub-like bed.

Would gasp as he saw the baby kick, asking if that hurt you or made you uncomfortable.

📚 Satan 🐈‍⬛

Would blink as you told him you were pregnant with his child, he would promptly close his book and blush deeply, still taking a full minute to process what you just said then get up and pull you into a tight yet careful hug. "You have no idea how happy I am."

Would read a bunch of books on human pregnancy, wanting to know how to take care of you during the next nine months.

Would have a good idea on how parenting goes, but would still check out a bunch of books from the library about parenting just in case there was something he didn't know.

Would read you a bedtime story every night, keeping one of his hands on your belly as he read from his book.

If you were to suggest coitus he would agree, having learned that it's beneficial during childbirth, and wanting to satisfy your needs as much as possible, being gentle and sensual the entire time.

Would pick everything up that you were to drop, hold the door open for you, and help you down the stairs without hesitation.

Would suggest healthier foods if you were to ask him to go get certain things you were craving, but would abide by your wishes.

Would already be prepared for you to throw up, keeping a trashcan nearby you at all times.

Would make sure you're laying on your left side whenever you would take a nap or go to bed.

Would put both of his hands on your belly as the baby kicked, being extremely happy, especially if the baby would constantly move, knowing that it meant the baby was healthy. He did feel bad that you were uncomfortable every time the baby moved though.

Would have you in the royal medical room as you reached your last month of pregnancy, wanting to be entirely prepared, and remaining beside you no matter what, even if you were to say that you were fine and he could go do his usual things. "No. I'm not leaving you both whatsoever."

Since he was a straight A student he could just skip school to take care of you.

💄 Asmodeus 💅

Would gasp and widen his eyes, covering his mouth at the revelation of your pregnancy, squeaking happily and kissing you lovingly, immediately suggesting name planning. "Oh my goodness!! We need to start thinking of names!!~"

Would agree to coitus, but would be gentle, he'd also do it as many times as you wanted.

Would massage you every night, especially your breasts since he knew they were producing milk and were gonna be sore soon.

Would wash you in the bath and take care of all your self care needs.

Would hold your hair back carefully as you threw up.

Would shower you with compliments, especially when your belly starts growing in, knowing you might be insecure about yourself due to your body changing but saying that he loved you no matter what. "Oh hon. You're gorgeous... especially your skin. It's so radiant and youthful, I'm so jealous~"

Would whisper sweet nothings and comfort you as you cried or had mood swings.

Would design a HUGE baby shower for you both.

Would paint his and your nails to the color the gender was revealed to be.

Would record a video of the baby kicking, happy tears welling up in his eyes as he replayed the video over and over, asking for your permission to post it on Devilgram.

Would kiss all over your belly and murmur a soft "I love you~" to your belly every night before murmuring the same thing in your ear.

Would help you to the hospital gently and carefully, holding your hand all through labor and giving you little whispers of encouragement the entire time.

💪 Beelzebub 🍔

Would take a whole six minutes to process you telling him that he made you pregnant. "Wait-....Really? We're having a baby?"

Would carry you everywhere and anywhere, no questions asked. The bathroom, downstairs, the kitchen, the delivery room, etc!! (He'd even wake up to help you to the bathroom.)

Would not mind your food cravings, but he's making you eat a bunch of healthy stuff afterwards if your food craving wasn't healthy.

Would watch your belly with sparkles in his eyes as the baby kicked, putting both of his hands on your belly. (It's like that gaze he gives whenever he sees food.)

Would love to go out and buy baby stuff with you, especially baby clothes.

Would place a piece of his meal on your belly, calling it; "Feeding the baby."

If you were to ask to have coitus during your pregnancy, he'd put his hand on your belly and get worried about the baby, needing you to tell him it was good for the baby beforehand, and he'd do it rough or gentle for you, just as long as the baby was okay.

Would pick up everything for you, carrying everything you were attempting to carry, and holding the door open for you if you did convince him that you were okay to walk instead of being carried everywhere by him

Would let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed during labor, staying beside you no matter what and giving you encouragement just after the doctors do.

Would probably give you hot or cold food when you were having hot or cold flashes. He'd give you cold food when you were hot, then hot food when you were cold.

Would immediately learn to start carrying a vomit bag around for you just in case, rubbing your back as you threw up.

Would get scared at first once your mood swings started happening, feeling guilty until you or one of his brothers reassured him that it was part of pregnancy.

🌌 Belphegor 💤

Would gasp as soon as you said you were pregnant, diving down and resting his head on your belly for a while, nuzzling against your skin and having a dorky lazy smile on his face, knowing you were carrying his baby.

Would definitely join you for naps, offering to massage your chest before he used them as pillows.

Would definitely use your belly as a pillow at one point, listening for movement with his ear pressed against your skin.

Would definitely help you make a nursery, "testing" the baby's bed to make sure the baby would be comfortable. "Hmm? Oh. I'm making sure the bed is okay for our baby. Would you like to join me?"

Will always make sure you're comfortable and laying on your left side when sleeping.

If you were to suggest coitus he would do it very gently, knowing that you were more sensitive now and treating you very delicately.

Would hum or sing soft lullabies to you and the baby to help you fall asleep.

Would probably become more clingy during this time, helping you everywhere and caressing your belly whenever he had the chance.

Wouldn't mind your mood swings, offering his body pillow to punch if you ever got angry to the point where you needed to blow off some steam.

During labor he'd ask Beel to help carry you as he comforted you all the way to the delivery room, caressing your hand as you squeezed his hand for dear life.

Would probably suggest some constellation related names. "Maybe Cygnus? For a boy. Or... Andromeda? For a girl?"

(Hope you enjoyed this!! My ask box is still open, so feel free to ask or send anything!!~)