#<- yea i became a fan

[cepheusgalaxy]

@clickerflight @whump-art-exchange

Image ID: An ink drawing of Kolt, naked, from the whump series Fallen. He is bruised and looks away as the chain attached to his collar is tugged. He is inside what appears to be a cell, with multiple eyes on the walls watching him intensely. /end ID.

Ok, so, I tried to do this like two times and it took me a while to lay the sketch. I had an idea for what to do--i went to give the series a shot, once i noticed this buddy here is a part of one so i could get better context--and so the idea i had was for making something from his villain days! It appears that Kolt as a villain was very intriguing (at least for me) but I couldn't make a sketch I was satisfied with, so I decided to go more whumpy! I remember a part where Kolt is in his recovery and he remembers when multiple people were watching and mocking him....couldn't get this over my head. Overall, I haven't finished it yet, but Fallen is a great series! They write it so well!

Art taglist:

@for-the-love-of-angst

[camzverse]

suddenly got smacked with the urge to draw fnaf characters as my little ponies What the fuck. whered that even come from. i dont even know how to draw my little ponies. i mean im gonna do it anygays but what the freak

[notafuckisgiven]

16 Years with SHINee 5/?

Ring Ding Dong - October 16, 2009

[damian-lil-babybat]

So what do DC fans do when they are six-feet down frustrated with DC's decisions..they make fix-it headcanons and fanarts! (Only Wayne Family Adventures can save us, apparently...huhuhu, I was so hopeful for DC Dawn but it has to happen)

Sooooo, here's a suggestion, one major problem of DC is the Robin Mantle.

We have Tim Drake, who with the ambiguous ending of his Robin run '(2022) Tim Drake: Robin', he said he doesn't want to be Batman, nor Robin?? So is this a call out of his possible new path? But come on, he is still very active in Batman donning his Robin Suit, so maybe it's just the usual 'finding your own path' narrative of a Robin while still doing the status quo.

Aand Damian Wayne has just finished his Lazarus Tournament Arc phase on the '(2021) Robin' series, and has made up with Batman (in Lazarus Planet Event), and has rightfullly refused the offer of both his mother and father to follow their footsteps.

So now having known what we know...it is simple. DC should just hammered in the difference of the two, coz they are very very different strengths and flaws NOW. (It has always been, but their skillsets were practically interchangeable, with Tim having the edge of experience, wholistically-trained with a cool head but is insecure, and Dami having talent for the job but is overconfident and has a temper and trust issues).

But now, Dami has been hinted heavily to have 'magic' in his blood. This should be a big deal.

I mean, what is stopping DC in making Damian the Robin who focuses on the magical and voodoo cases of Gotham?

It would not only let the two Robins continue to operate with Batman, it would make them have separate jurisdiction on Batman's case files, with Tim helping Batman on his usual detective work, and Damian learning more of his powers, building immunity (coz how many times has been that he was used by demons, devils, and dark forces of the multiverses, like srsl? Batman, this is a literal threat to everyone and this is not even a discussion in your training book?). Also different specialization makes it easier for the two to find and ground themselves again. Like, it has been high-time to have one resident-batfam who focuses mainly on THAT, aside from Azrael. And with Azrael being the Angel of Death, and Dami being the grandson of the Demon Head, the tandem and potential is there?? Hopefully, it is still Michael Lane, coz having an underground trained-to-be-Batman's-replacement who eventually got insance and became Bat-Devil only to convert into a lliteral incarnation of an Angel....the parallel>>>to DAMI? So good. The resurrection and salvation bit for the two would be so nice to put in comics.

Hecck, Dami training under Constantine and Zatanna woould be sick.

And it doesn't have to make Damian more OP with magic on his arsenal. It could simply just his magical powers are limited to immunity from the dark arts (coz he trained the fuck out of it, *intro, training montage). So he is still a badass mini-Batman but just highly trained against the supernatural. (IF this happened, please don't let this be his whole personality coz it'll boxed Dami in a one-trick pony, that's why it should be just immunity/dispell skills...or a one-off channeling of his superpowers when he resurrected before...the possibilities are nice to play with. Just give him a flaw...like he can study on academic levels the magics but he cannot sense them the way a magically-gifted person could).

And this is only until Tim Drake finds his own superhero-persona. Coz 'til now, there's no organic way for Tim to move forward to.

So we have the colorful Robin, and the monochromed Robin. I say, let's return Red Robin to Tim, and make Damian the White Robin...

...or Dark Robin, or Bat Robin...but they all sound like the DC Metalverse Robin Versions, so I still lean in to 'White Robin' coz they are rare and is good call-out when he got resurrected and was in all white clothes.

Also when Damian first appeared, he was in a black and white overall which could easilly be interpreted how he is blanced on the weighing scale on good and bad. Now, he is good, just that, he does not let his father, or anyone at that matter, dictate the colors he would wear...he is still figuring it out, after all.

[prisonpodcast]

I wasn't in the fandom when the dsmp peaked and i'm kinda sad for that but also glad i haven't had to see how weird people were with some of the cc and lore

Like tbh the dsmp fandom back then was pretty annoying but still no where near as awful as it is right now bc at least back then I didn’t have a gun pointed at my head 24/7 for liking Dream (well I had a gun pointed at my head for liking Techno but at least I could move to tumblr to fix that) but MAN the c!sbi fans (esp c!crime.boys fans) and benchers were so fucking irritating in the most blood boiling way 😭

[surreal-duck]

hi!! i just wanted to say that ive liked midoyuzu since i was like 14 and its been a few years since then (obviously) but seeing your midoyuzu art now is so!!! its so fulfilling to my past self who had like NO art to go off of, i guess? anyway! your art is super good and i love it so much <3

im glad omg? extremely late to the party but by god i am bringing snacks in here or die trying o7 was pretty baffled the first time finding out more abt their dynamic and looking them up on here to find maybe like two more recent posts and the rest from no sooner than 2017 or so askjdghsjkgdhjks but really THANK YOU!!!!!!!! happy to be of service to your inner 14yo somewhat ;v;

yknow what though the really funny thing is that i wasnt even that into them initially. just remembered that cute interaction at the end of xmas live and thought "huh these two r kinda sweet actually" and that curiosity is always a slippery slope into genuine investment and by god is tripping into it a favorite pastime of mine

[morzowo]

.

[nightdncer]

“ 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 ”

✦ A/N : cowboy Choso fan art at the end ;)

✦ warnings : cowboy!Choso , fem!reader , female reader , smut , cowgirl position , doggy position , deepthroat , pet names , teasing , Choso x fem!reader, A/N’s

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

“fuck…” Choso grunts as he rubs his bulge on your thigh. you look up at him and giggle at his cheeks being a faint rosy pink. you gently grab his wrist and say, “come on, give me more than that.” you tease him. Choso cheeks became more flustered when you said that, knowing what you meant.

“… but-” before he could finish what you say, you interrupted him by saying, “no. you know you want it too, Cho.” he whispers in his ear. he sighs softly and lays down on his back on the bed, you sitting on top of his bulge. “come on, just seeing me makes you hard?” you tease him as you ruffle his hair lightly, his hair becoming a slight mess.

“give it to me, please…” he begged, grabbing your wrist. you gave him a slight smirk and just unzips his jeans {A/N : his jeans are baggy btw ;)} and slid off his boxers where his length caresses your clit. you slightly shiver in pleasure, not sure who will be dominant in this moment.

he grabs your ass and spreads it, putting his full length in your hole. “f- fuck…” you softly whine.

“do the work, mommy.” he says, in a very slight teasing tone as he looks up at you. you get surprise when he calls you mommy, as he was usually a cold and dominant man, but this side of him was only for you to see.

you then started bouncing on his length, both of your hands intertwine together. “mgh….” he grunts. “ah..! huh, you’re…” you’re eyes twitch in pleasure. “you’re so hard..” you say in pants n between as he chuckles at your body twitching in pleasure and your little moans.

“fuck, fuck, fuck..!!” he moans out loud, as you gently caresses his hands. “don’t be so loud… the people might hear.” you tease him, slowly picking up your pace.

“you last longer than I expected..” he comments, as he forces you to leans down on his chest and kiss your forehead, him taking care of it now. he gently tugs on your hair. “ahh, fuck..” he moans his hand on his mouth as he finishes inside of you.

“h- hah..!” you moan in his chest, it being muffled. he pulls his length out, panting from the intense orgasm.

he gets a load of your hair and forces you onto your back. “face down, ass up now.” he commands, thee being a teasing tone in between his command. you were embarrassed to do that. you do as he says, as he grabs another fist full of your hair.

he then slid his length into your ass, making you whine out of pleasure. he then picks up his pace, becoming faster and faster as he tugs on your hair. your head burry in the pillow, your eyes rolled back. “hah! a- ah…. you’re going to fast, Cho..” you whine.

“shut up.” he commands once again, you being the submissive one now. he then smacks your ass, “be a good girl and stay quiet for me, yea?” he whispers in your ear.” you look up at him from the corner in your eyes and nods.

he picks up his pace, him panting as he grabs both of your waist. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come..” he warns you. “Choso..!!” you whine out his name. “yeah… scream my name for me, come on..” he grunts as he finally comes in you once again.

he pulls out his length and it you on his lap, his length caressing your clit, his arms wrapped around your waist, making you trapped in between him. “you were so wet..” he pants in your ear.

“I wanna..” you mutter out, then finishing your sentence by saying, “suck it.” you pant out, e,breasted that you just said that. he looks at you in surprise but gave a smirk. “of course.”

and just before you know it, you were on your knees and sucking on his length. he grabs your hair and forces all of his inches in your mouth. “f- fuck…” he moans, not getting the full pleasure from you deep throating him as you felt his tip at the back of your neck.

he guides his length out of your mouth, a bit of pre-cum dripping from his length. you then start giving him a hand job, your tiny hand going up and down on his large length with veins popping out. he grabs your hair and starts guiding you where it gave him the most pleasure.

“n- ngh…!!” he grunts out in pleasure, finally reaching the spot where it gave him the post pleasure, his hand twitching and his eyes being half opened.

just then, he comes in your mouth which wasn’t shocking since pre-cum was dropping from his tip. you made sure to get all of the come in his length and slide out of it, his come leaking from your mouth. “fuck… this is so much to clean.” he whines.

you then sit on his lap his length in between your ass. “I’ll help you, dear.” you say as you kisses his cheek.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

A/N : CHOSO COWBOY FANART !!

made by salmonfurai on X

[tojisun]

do you think biker!simon has an instagram account to share some videos or photos of his motor? even he shares his own photos, he won't take off his helmet i suppose hehe :3

YEA I DO!!! biker!simon’s instagram account was made so he can follow his friends (not just the squad but also those that he met in meet ups) and also biking events. he first gained traction because of the bit he’s got going on wherein no one knows how he looks like until now, but then clips of his tricks during meet ups get posted and naturally people are drawn to him. add the fact that this well-built man with a sexy voice is also just a big bike nerd? yeah, people are enamoured for sure.

it’s not like he’s influencer famous, which he’s fucking thankful for, but simon becomes a household name for bikers and fans alike. then, your name came along and all of a sudden, a power couple just bloomed right before simon’s followers’ eyes. of course they’ve got to extend the support your way.

at first they’re following you because of simon; because they see just how cute he is whenever he talks about you – always posting you on his account or story; always finding ways to include you in the topic (with limitations of course) and tag you in posts. and god his followers adore seeing simon act so smitten and in love.

but you’re just too beautiful and sweet and kind.

what started as curious support became genuine; often they’d even ask simon where you are when simon’s account goes live during a meet up (all his followers know by now that every time simon’s live during a meet up, it’s actually johnny using simon’s phone), and simon would wag his finger in front of the camera as if to say “secret.” it’s johnny who would thankfully grace them with a normal reply, doing so by flipping the camera to show you to them. and, well, they wouldn’t be able to blame simon for wanting to keep you all for himself because they’d see you perched on his bike, wrapped in leather while wearing your and simon’s matching helmet, looking all parts divinely and untouchable.

simon would mass like comments that always compliment you. his favourite? “@yourname please please step on me. i promise i’ll bark”. simon laughed at the ridiculousness of it before liking the comment and replying to the original commenter with “get in line, lad.”

HHHH BUT YEA!! i absolutely see simon having a decent-following instagram account that is full of pictures of you, the two of you driving around, and his bike.

-

i searched through the trenches (my room) and was able to find my old phone!! i revived it for a short smau of biker!simon and what i think his account would look like (also featuring a short one of reader’s account!). check under the cut <333

click through the individual pictures for better quality and so that u can see the captions teehee!!

-

i enjoyed making these omg!! hope u loved them toooo <333

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY

THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto

Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you. 

“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.

“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.

The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard. 

“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.

How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.

Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.

No, I want him to shut up now. 

Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.

You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.

“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight. 

“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower. 

“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.

“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked. 

“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.

“God.” Gojo responded.

“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics. 

“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.

“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.

“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation. 

“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.

“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.

“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”

“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.

“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.

“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions. 

“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.

“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”

“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.

“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.

🛏️🛏️🛏️

In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.

“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.

“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Melted By Summer Lust - Jude Jazza 95k Bonus Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. MDNI. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

During the summer, all of Crown planned to go to a summer resort.

That’s what should’ve happened but……

The ship got severely damaged in a storm, so we each had to take a lifeboat.

In the end, Jude and I ended up on the same lifeboat which washed up on a small island……

Kate: Where is this……

Jude: Tch……can’t even see the formation o’ the island. For now, let’s secure a base ‘n food while it’s light out.

Kate: O-okay!

Afterward, Jude gave me several instructions and we split up to explore the island.

As I explore, there’s no time to feel down or lost —

I’m grateful to keep busy, otherwise I’d worry about the current situation.

Eventually, the sun set……We decided to take shelter from the elements in a cave.

Jude: These are edible fruits, so we can manage for a while.

Kate: That so……Well…….I’ll give you a massage.

Jude: Huh? Why ya bein’ weird all o’ sudden?

Kate: Jude, you’re the one who built the fire and created a water storage system for us, didn’t you.

Kate: I also, want to be of some help……

Jude: Well, I’ve got more physical strength ‘n knowledge than ya, so it’s only natural.

Kate: But……

Jude: If ya waste your energy ‘n pass out, I ain't takin' care of ya.

Kate: ……I got it.

It’s true, I can’t help if I can’t do anything and end up being troublesome.

I lay silently on the hard ground so as not to bother Jude.

(It’s not enough to ask Jude.)

(Starting tomorrow, I need to think of what I can do…...!)

The next day. After eating fruit for breakfast, I started to search for food.

(It’s hot……I feel dizzy…..)

(But, I can’t quit……)

I guess my judgement dulled because I was in such an extreme situation, and I didn't know if help would come.

(…..Huh?)

Suddenly, my vision became pitch black and I lost strength in my legs.

……How long has it been, since then?

Before I knew it, I was looking out at the ocean from the sandy beach, feeling the lukewarm sea breeze.

Jude: There ya are.

Jude sat down and nestled himself so closely to me that there was no gap between us, like a boyfriend would.

It was an odd sense of distance for Jude, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

Kate: Jude? Why are you here……

Kate: If I recall, you were looking for fruit today, weren’t you?

Jude: “Lookin’ for it?” Whaddya sayin’. I mapped out where the fruit grows after we washed up on the island.

Kate: Huh, when?

Jude: ‘Bout three years ago. ……Why’re ya bein’ stupid.

Jude: No way, don’t tell me ya forgot we became lovers?

(Jude and I’ve been stranded on this island for three years now, and we became lovers…..?)

(…..Yea. It might’ve been. It seems that way……..!)

Kate: I have forgotten. It’s such an important thing.

Three years ago, we washed upon this deserted island and started living here……

However, no matter how long we wait, there’s no one who will come to pick us up……

(A few years later — Jude and I became lovers.)

That’s not to say that……while helping each other on the deserted island, we became attracted the one another.

Since we were the only other people, we gradually settled on our current relationship.

— Looking back at the past three years, I looked out to the ocean.

Kate: Oh……!

Thinking I had seen a large shadow on the horizon where the sun was setting, I stood up without thinking.

Kate: Jude! Could it be……

Jude: ……It’s a whale. Ain’t a boat.

Kate: You’re right…..it’s not.

I could hear the disappointment in my own voice as I spoke.

(Even though it’s been three years, I still can’t let go to the hope that help might come.)

(I - I’m bad at giving up……)

Kate: ……I, wonder how everyone is doing.

Kate: …….I want to eat Victor’s scones. I want to hear William play the piano as well……

Kate: I still wanted to see Liam’s play, and I haven’t even returned the novel I borrowed from Harrison-

Jude: ……Haa. Thinkin’ ‘bout other men while next to me.

When I looked back at Jude who responded sarcastically, I could see loneliness set into his amethyst eyes.

(Now, I am all Jude has, and Jude is all I have.)

(We have no choice but to live together forever……Why did I bring up the others?)

(If I ask for things out of reach, I’ll just end up troubling Jude…….)

Kate: ……Jude.

Calling his name, I softly kiss his cheek.

As I repeatedly did this, as if to fill the hole in my heart, Jude pushed me down onto the sandy beach.

Kate: Hmm….

He kissed me with bites on my lips, leaving bite marks all over my body, including my neck and shoulders.

Deeper and deeper his teeth sank, like a wedge driving into me.

Kate: More……

Kate: Please, make it hurt more……..to the point that I forget everything else…..

Even after we returned to the cave that night, we didn’t leave each other’s side.

There’s no love between us.

…….But it’s only when we interact like this, am I able to forget my feelings of loneliness and sadness.

Kate: Hah…..nn……

Jude’s fingertips stir inside me and make a squelching sound.

Jude: Nn……

Kate: Ah, ahhh….!

My body trembles in pleasure as he spread me apart with his fingers while biting into my shoulder.

As if begging for more, my insides contract around Jude’s fingers.

Jude: Ha……You’re squeezin’ me like it’s delicious….lewd.

Jude inserted more fingers into me as he said this with a look of delight.

Kate: Oh, ohh…..! Jude, I’m already……

I cling tightly to Jude’s shoulder, and start moving my hips.

Jude: Your the only one havin’ fun. Don’t cum without permission.

Kate: Ahh…..

My eyes reluctantly follow his fingertips as they pulled out……however, the loneliness wasn’t felt for long.

Jude unfastened his belt, and my heart pounded with anticipation.

Jude: ……Kate.

More than the suffocating heat of summer……Jude’s voice calling me felt hotter.

(I want to be melted even more……by Jude’s heat…….)

Kate: Jude……

After I called in want, something hot applied to my entrance.

That’s when -

The scene suddenly changed.

Kate:….That?

When I woke up, I was sleeping in a cave.

As soon as I sat up, I felt a throbbing pain in my head and let out a small groan.

Jude: ….You’re awake.

Kate: Well….Why was I sleeping…..

Jude: ….How much d’ya remember?

Kate: Well, it’s been three years since we came to this island, you and I became lovers Jude, and last night -

Jude: Three Years? Lovers? Didja have a dream that made ya think that?

Kate: What……?

Jude: Day after we got to the deserted island, ya got weirdly worked up ‘n passed out under the sun.

Jude: Brought ya here to rest……looks like a mild case of heatstroke.

(The next day, that means the years I spent with Jude and our relationship, were all just a dream……)

Jude: Drink this now that you’re awake. It’s already been boiled.

Jude handed me a cup made from folded leaves.

Kate: Ah, delicious. Thank you…..

The water that flowed into my parched throat made me feel like I was coming back to life.

Kate: I’m sorry for causing trouble……..

Jude: Really. Drink this ‘n lie down.

Kate: Alright……

I obediently laid down, and Jude placed a wet cloth on my forehead.

(Where’d he get the cloth…..?)

Curious, I looked over and saw that a part of Jude’s shirt was torn.

(You took care of me and even tore your shirt…..)

Kate: Thank you, Jude……

After saying thanks, I passed out from exhaustion.**

I slowly woke up to crackling sounds.

Seems like after resting, I recovered enough that my throbbing headache is gone.

When I looked in the direction of the sound, I found Jude grilling fish over a fire.

Jude: …..Didja wake? Appetite?

Kate: There is…..

Jude took one of the fish he was grilling and handed it to me on a large leaf as a plate.

Jude: Time to eat. Since ya collapsed, you’d better get some nutrition.

Kate: Right……

Wrapping it in the leaf, I bit into the crispy skin of the freshly grilled fish.

Kate: Mm….! It’s salty, meaty and….. very delicious…..!

Kate: Where’d you get the fish?

Jude: Caught ‘em by hand when I swam into the shallows, ‘n the salt was taken from the seawater.

Saying it like it was nothing, Jude started to eat his portion of the fish.

(Jude’s so amazing…..I’ll try to catch something at the beach tomorrow too.)

I decided that I wanted to help but -

Jude: You’ll rest here tomorrow too.

When I was getting ready for bed after dinner, Jude told me that.

Kate: W-why? I’m fine now, so I’ll do something starting tomorrow!

Jude: Even if ya think you’ve recovered, once someone collapses it’ll happen again.

Jude: ……Wanna be a nuisance to me, then I won’t stop ya.

Kate: I understand…….I don’t want to be a nuisance…..

(But, I feel bad just resting in the cave.)

(I hope I can do something that won’t put a strain on my body…..)

Jude: ……In exchange, I’ve prepared a job for ya too.

Kate: Really?!

Jude: Ha……how much do ya want to work?

Kate: I wanted to help, but things had to be done for me…..It was so frustrating.

Kate: So, what do I need to do?

Jude: Story. Tell me one.

Kate: Story…..?

Jude: Don’t have a comfortable bed, ‘n I had trouble sleepin’ last night.

Jude: If I listen to your stupid stories, I think it’ll be borin’ ‘nough to sleep.

Kate: …..Got it. I’ll do my best to put you to sleep, Jude.

Maybe, Jude doesn’t need a bedtime story.

Perhaps he was giving me something that wasn’t burdensome, because I was feeling frustrated.

Kate: Now what kind of story do you want to hear tonight, got any requests?*** Wishes changed to requests.

Jude: If that’s the case, then….the dream ya had is good.

Kate: What.

Jude: Ya said somethin’ weird ‘bout me becomin’ your lover. I’m interested.

Kate: …..I, I understand. Please don’t get angry and just listen.

After we both laid down, I told him about my dream.

How after years of not being picked up, in order to fill the loneliness, Jude and I became lovers.

I was too embarrassed to talk about the affair…..so I only mentioned about being bitten.

Jude: Hmm, that was a complete nightmare to have.

Kate: Th-that’s right……It was dreadful not being picked up for three years.

Jude: That’s it?

Kate: What?

Jude: Ya said ya were bitten. If I became your lover, it’d be a nightmare for ya.

Kate: No, that’s not the nightmare. Rather…..

(Oh, I……what did I just say?)

Jude: ……Oi.

Jude’s deep voice sounds like it’s going to melt into the summer night.

He reached out and grabbed me by the arm, as if to say he wouldn’t let me go.

Jude: Why’ve ya been lookin’ at me strangely lately?

Kate: What…..

While I was at a loss for words, Jude looked at me and bit my wrist.

Kate: …..tss.

Jude:…..Looks like, you don’t care what I do to ya.

Jude: Let’s see how far I can tease ya 'n ya still enjoy it.

He grabbed my hand and pushed me to the ground.

With the strong scent of sandalwood, Jude drew closer and bit my shoulder.

Kate: Ah……

Jude: See, it’s become a kink. Ya like bein’ in pain.

Kate: T-that’s n-

Just as I was about to deny it, I heard a voice from far away.

Liam’s Voice: There are footprints and a cave here! Kate! Jude! You there?

Ellis’ Voice: ……Jude, you’re not dead are you?

Roger’s Voice: I heard their voices, so I guess their still alive.

Kate: I-It’s everyone’s voices……!

Jude: ……That was unexpectedly quick.

We both and stand up and head out of the cave towards the voices.

Along the way, I gently stroked the area where Jude had bitten me.

When I was bitten in real life, it felt sweeter and more painful than when I was bitten in the dream.

Jude’s profile, illuminated by the faint moonlight when he’d bitten me,

Everything was so vivid, including the scent of sandalwood I felt the moment I was bitten.

Reality left a more indelible mark on my heart, than a dream of delicious hands could.

(It’s…..not that pain has become a kink for me)

(Rather it’s for Jude himself, who inflicts the pain, that’s become the kink……)

(……Isn’t it just my imagination.)

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

**This line literally translates 'As soon as I said thanks, I fell asleep like mud.' Apparently, this is saying in Japan to indicate complete exhaustion. So, I changed it. ***This line literally translates to: ..."got any hopes/wishes." I changed this to 'requests' to localize it better.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed it! I did. NEED MORE.

[merrybloomwrites]

A Podcast Love Story

Summary: The story of Shayne & Y/N, as told through a series of podcasts

AN: This story was inspired by a request from someone that tumblr isn't letting me tag, so that's dumb lol

Also, I tried to follow the actual timeline of when these podcasts were posted but I did take some creative liberty, so some things might not match up with when the were really posted irl

Wordcount: 3.4K

CW: very light mention of smut, talk about pregnancy

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

SmoshCast #75 – How Shayne and Courtney Feel About Being Shipped Together

Dating someone who’s in the public eye was not entirely unexpected. You live in Los Angeles after all. When you and Shayne started dating in 2019 you decided to keep it a secret for a while. Neither of you were ready to share your relationship with the Smosh viewers yet.

This became more difficult when you decided to quarantine together in 2020 during the pandemic. Two weeks after he returned from Australia, when you were sure that neither of you had Covid, you packed your necessities and headed to Shayne’s. It was nice being together, but it did get complicated when he needed to film videos.

Sometimes you would go for a walk while he was filming. Other times you would hide in the other room. He’d triple check all his footage before submitting it to make sure you, and any of your belongings, weren’t in frame.

One day, a few months in, he and Courtney are recording an episode of the SmoshCast. He sets up at the small dining table in the corner of the living room. You’re on the couch, meaning you can’t be seen on the camera, but you are in Shayne’s view. It might not have been the smartest decision since you’re now stuck there for the entire time they record, but you have a book and a snack, so you get cozy.

You can only hear Shayne’s side of the conversation, so you’re not fully paying attention. That is, until you hear Shayne say, “If we so much as say hi to each other, Shartney fans poop themselves.” The mention of this ship between him and his castmate has you more focused on the conversation. Not because you’re jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but because all of you find it quite funny how hard the two of them are shipped.

He can’t stop looking over to you for the entire ten-minute segment. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you. It’s obvious that he’s reassuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. You especially like when he says, “You can ship me with anything. Ship me with bananas.” And you nearly lose it when he says, “I am begging you, please, make a ship edit of me and Kathy Bates.”

They continue to talk and the conversation steers towards how fans make assumptions based on what they see in videos. Shayne brings up how people were concerned about him for a few weeks at the beginning of quarantine. He starts to explain, “I was very quiet in those early podcasts, but the reason was, one, I was not getting enough sleep. I kept staying up late,” here he looks at you before quickly saying, “playing video games.” You again struggle to keep quiet, knowing that was not the truth. Unless “playing video games” has now become code for “having intimate moments with my girlfriend”.

He continues to talk about how his setup for recording was less than ideal and finishes by saying, “I wasn’t sad at all, I was actually having great days.” Again, you share a quick look, showing that you agree with him about how wonderful it’s been since you started living together.

They wrap up the podcast a little while later and Shayne is officially done with work for the day.

“Playing video games, huh?” you say teasingly.

“Oh yea, totally a pro gamer now,” he replies.

“You think so?” you say with a laugh.

“I mean, I could always use more practice,” he answers as he lifts you from the couch, carrying you to the bedroom.

SmoshCast #85 – American Horror Story: Adulting

A few months later and things are looking better in the world. This means a return to the office for everyone. You’d landed a job at Smosh, working in post-production, so now you and Shayne work together. You were nervous about being around each other all the time, but luckily there’s still a fair amount of the day when you’re apart. Shayne is often filming or in meetings or busy writing, and you spend most of the time at your desk working on the next video.

But sometimes, you get a break to see him. Shayne, Damien, and Coutney are filming a new SmoshCast episode, and you sneak in to watch from the back. The theme is “Adulting”, and they somehow start by talking about how they interact with the younger generation. You can’t help but smile as Shayne talks about his niece, endeared by the relationship he has with her. He also mentions grandchildren, which makes your imagination run away thinking about your future together.

You stay for a little while and just watch your boyfriend. He’s not saying anything crazy, or doing anything special, but you love listening to him give advice. You also love how attentive he is to his friends, how closely he listens to everything they say. When you do go back to your desk you take a moment to think about how lucky you are that this man, with a solid head on his shoulders and more emotional maturity than you’ve ever seen before, is your other half.

Smosh Mouth #5 – Shayne and Y/N Share Their Love Story

“Welcome back to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne.”

“And I’m Amanda.”

“And today we have a very special guest. We have my lovely wife, Y/N Topp,” Shayne says, smiling at you as he finished the introduction.

“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone.

It’s weird being in front of the camera. It’s only happened a few times in the years that you’ve been with Shayne. Even though you also work at Smosh, you’re always behind the scenes. You’ve only really been in videos that highlight the crew, so the focus has rarely been on you.

But today you’re finally sitting down to do a podcast for the channel. They’d just revived the podcast after a nearly three-year hiatus.

So much has happened in your personal life since then. At the time that SmoshCast was airing, your relationship with Shayne was fairly new, and you weren’t ready to share it yet. Within a year of that last episode going live, you two had gotten engaged. This led to you guys getting married, and as of 22 weeks ago, you being pregnant with your first child.

“Well, I for one am very excited to have you here today,” Amanda says. “I cannot wait to grill you on every last detail of your relationship.” You all laugh at that, knowing that while you’re sharing more personal information than you ever have before, no one is going to push you or Shayne too much.

“So,” Amanda continues. “Tell me, how did you meet?”

You look to Shayne, encouraging him to start the story.

“We met in 2019,” he begins. “Someone had recommended a book to me, so I was at the library to pick it up. While I was looking through the shelf Y/N came over and started looking through the section as well. We kind of started at opposite ends and moved to meet in the middle. Turns out we were both looking for the same book.”

“No you were not!” Amanda interjects.

“We really were,” you say to confirm. “We basically have the most cliché meet-cute story.”

“Ya, no kidding! So, what happened next?” she asks.

“Well, I had picked up the book first and noticed Y/N glance at it. So we started talking and I told her she should take the book first and I’d read it when she’s done.”

“And then he very smoothly said he could give me his number so I could tell him when I was returning the book,” you add.

“Look at you,” Amanda says. “Making the bold moves.”

“I had to give it a try,” Shayne says with a laugh.

“And it worked. I texted him a couple weeks later, the day before I returned the book.”

“I didn’t have her number,” Shayne says. “And I was kicking myself for not getting it because waiting to hear from her was pretty torturous I’m not gonna lie. So as soon as she texted about the book I asked her on a date.”

“Which actually shocked me at first. I really though he only was interested in the book.”

“Did you know who he was?” Amanda asks. “Like, had you watched Smosh or seen him on TV before you met?”

“I did know who he was. I had just started watching Smosh, so I recognized him but really didn’t know much about him.”

“Did you start watching old videos and try to get to know more about him after you met? Or after he asked you out?”

“I tried not to. I wanted to get to know him naturally, not through videos online. But there was a video posted after he asked me out but before our date called ‘Why We’re Bad at Dating’ and I couldn’t resist. And I truly think it helped us hit it off on that first date.”

“How so?” Amanda inquires.

Shayne takes that question, saying, “In the episode I talked about what I do on dates that kind of lead to there not being a second date. And Y/N/N called me out on that.”

You chime in, adding, “He said he puts on a ‘CW’ version of himself. I told him not to do that. And I admitted to being just as anxious about the date as he was so we should just forget the pressure and hang out and get to know each other.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Amanda says. “So obviously you started dating and kept dating. When did you take the next step?”

Shayne takes this question and says, “I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple months later. And then we moved in together shortly after the start of the pandemic. Which was slightly challenging when it came to filming at home for Smosh since we wanted to keep the relationship a secret for a while.”

“Yea, how in the world did you make that work?”

“We were very, very careful,” you say. “I definitely hid in the bathroom more than once to stay out of frame.” At this you all laugh, and you add, “Totally worth it, though.”

“Ok, next juicy question. Shayne, how did you propose?”

“So, I hired a sky writer,” he says before laughing and continuing, “No, just kidding. We’d been dating for a year and a half, living together for almost a year at the time. We rented a cabin in Colorado for a few days and on the second day we went on a hike. Packed a picnic, did the whole thing. And I uh, I proposed at the top of the mountain.”

“You guys are literally a romcom,” Amanda quips.

“Would a romcom do a hike proposal? I feel like they’re always at fancy restaurant or the beach. Or like, yelling ‘Will you marry me?’ As the girl walks away down a street in the pouring rain,” you say.

“Oh, a hike proposal is very Lifetime or Hallmark.”

“Good point, it’s totally been in at least one of those movies.”

“Did you like that it was on a hike?” Amanda asks.

“Yea, Y/N/N, did you like it?” Shayne says, pretending to be truly concerned and worried about your answer.

“Hated it,” you say jokingly. “No, honestly, I loved it. Shayne and I always bonded over how much we love nature, so it was perfect for us. I can’t imagine it being any other way. I know a lot of girls want to make sure their nails are done so they get that perfect ring picture, which totally fine, not judging at all. But it definitely felt right that I literally had dirt under my nails and scrapes on my palms from slipping up the hill. Much more authentic that way.”

“And the wedding, anything you want to share about it?” Amanda asks.

“We actually got married in New Mexico,” you say. “It was the central spot for both our families. It was last April, so, beautiful weather during the day. And we lucked out that the temperature didn’t drop too much at night.”

“Very nice,” Amanda replies. “Shayne, anything to add?”

“We kept it pretty small, just family, and close friends. I feel like it was a very typical wedding, but it was ours, you know? So, it was special.” Shayne blushes and you know that your wedding day means more to him than he’s letting on. And that’s fine with you. It was a private event, and even though you’re sharing your relationship now, neither of you want to give away too much about your wedding.

“Aw, he’s getting red,” Amanda jokes. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“We did. We went to Hawaii. Neither of us had been before so we knew it would be special for us. We wanted to experience something new together,” you answer.

“Cute!” she replies. “Now, dedicated fans know you guys are together, know you’re married and all that. But there is some news you two have to share that no one knows, is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Shayne says. He looks at you, silently asking if you want to say it. But you can tell he’s bursting to tell everyone, so you give him a nod to continue.

“Y/N and I are having a baby,” he says.

“Hell yea you are! Smosh baby!” Amanda cheers. “Congratulations to you both! Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in the second trimester so my morning sickness is mostly gone, thank god. We’re very excited, got some classes we’re planning to take and we’re reading all the books so I’m sure we will still be extremely unprepared,” you say with a laugh.

“If there’s anyone I trust to figure it out and be great parents, it’s the two of you,” Amanda replies earnestly.

“Thank you, Amanda,” Shayne says.

The podcast continues with Amanda continuing to ask questions and you and Shayne sharing more stories about your time together.

You wrap up recording by mid-afternoon. You have an appointment with your doctor scheduled and since it’s so close to the end of the day, Shayne was also given time off to join you. Everything goes well and as he drives you both home you can’t help but be grateful that the two of you were brought together.

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories: Office Nightmares

It’s been a month and a half since recording your episode of SmoshMouth, and three weeks since it aired. The news that you and Shayne are expecting a baby spread faster than anything you’d experienced before. You’d both received messages of congratulations from more people than you had ever expected: from Smosh fans to Disney fans, and even Goldbergs fans. You never imagined the amount of support you’d receive.

You had the morning off for yet another checkup with your doctor. You get back to the office early, but technically you’re still scheduled to be off, so you opt to sit in as they record the next Reddit Story video/podcast. It’s one of your favorite series currently, and you love listening to Shayne read all the stories.

He begins the third story, reading the title, “Am I the asshole for telling my wife that I’m not taking off of work to be present at our daughters’ birth?”

They joke around for a bit, and then he dives into the story, reading how the man explains that he couldn’t take off work cause there’s a project and they need him there. The wife finds out that’s a lie, and it mad that he didn’t take time off. He says he wants to work more so they’d have more money after the birth, and that the baby wouldn’t even remember him being there. He finishes by saying he doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to be there at the birth, and even blames the wife’s hormones for her being upset about it.

Shayne, along with Spencer and Tommy begin to share their thoughts on the story. You smile and nod as Shayne makes the point of, “He keeps saying the baby’s not gonna remember, but you’re fucking wife will!”

They even give reasons why they’d understand him not being there, with Tommy saying, “If they were really desperate for cash then I’d get it,” and Spencer saying he’d understand if he were terrified of being around childbirth.

The boys then look over to you and Spencer says, “Y/N, you’re pregnant, how do you feel about this story?”

“Yea,” Tommy adds, “would you kill Shayne if he did this?”

“Oh, for sure!” you call out.

“C’mere,” Shayne says. “You’re probably the one most qualified to give an opinion here.”

You look to Kiana who’s directing the video and she gives you a nod, so you walk onto the set and stand behind Shayne, leaning down so your face is next to his and your voice will get picked up on his microphone.

“What are you’re thoughts on this?” Tommy asks.

“You guys definitely made a lot of great points. I mean, childbirth is terrifying, and I keep trying to ignore the fact that I do have to actually, you know, birth a human. But I know that Shayne will be there and is studying to be the best support person. I mean, he’s read enough books about it, I think he could deliver the baby himself if necessary,” you say with a laugh.

“I will add, if this was the father of my child, I’d wonder what he actually deems important. Because this is arguably one of the biggest days of everyone’s life. First of all, it should be important to him. It’s literally his child entering the world. It’s a privilege to be one of the first people that baby will ever meet. And then, what will be a big enough deal for him to take off work in the future? Baby’s not gonna remember her first birthday, is he gonna go to that? She has a dance recital at three years old, is he going to think that’s silly and not go?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense,” Spencer replies. “He definitely seems to have his priorities and being there for his family isn’t one.”

“I truly cannot imagine not being there when our kid is born,” Shayne says. “My worst fear would be if something kept me from being there.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Tommy says bluntly, and everyone laughs.

You head back off camera as they continue on.

After a few more stories Shayne begins another entry, titled, “And I the asshole for eating the last doughnut before my pregnant coworker could have one?” He looks at you once he reads it and laughs before saying, “Y/N’s face says, yes absolutely you are.”

He reads the story which explains that the young employee ate his allotted two doughnuts, and when the pregnant coworker didn’t show up after half an hour, he ate her two as well. She gets there shortly after and explains she had car trouble and is upset to see everyone had a treat but didn’t save her any. Later, the boss pulls aside the employee to tell him he’d been rude to his coworker.

After he finishes the post the boys discuss the etiquette of eating communal snacks in the office before Shayne says, “Also, if there is one thing I know, it’s that you never mess with a pregnant woman’s food unless you want to die.” You laugh so loudly at this that you know for sure the mics picked it up from across the room.

“Y/N, anything to add?” Spencer says.

You walk over again and state, “Listen, all I’m say is that I’m mad you guys are just talking about doughnuts when we don’t have any. Cause cravings are a bitch and now I am literally not going to stop thinking about doughnuts until I get one.”

After moving offscreen you realize you need to pee, again, so you leave the studio to head to the bathroom. Once you’re out of the room Shayne says, “Hey Kiana, can I have my phone a second?”

“Why do you need your phone?” Spencer asks.

“I gotta doordash some doughnuts.”

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AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have any requests for Shayne stories!

Taglist: @american-girl001 @tatumrileyslover @queenofcaradelle @1nkm0nster

[intheorangebedroom]

The corner deli, part 2

Summary: Frankie takes you on a second date. Somehow, firearms are still involved...

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 🔞

A/N:  Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡 Thank you so much for your kind response to part 1! I hope you like this part too (pun intended). And please, see the end notes 🧡

Word count: 4.1k (I managed to cram in nearly all my kinks, can I get a woot woot?)

[part 1] [blog masterlist]

Part 2: Crimson and Clover

“Isn’t it cheating, though?”

The carnival rifle looks comically small between his hands. He presses the trigger, and a fourth balloon explodes with a loud popping sound, amplified by the wooden box. You jump. He doesn’t even blink.  

“How is it cheating?” he asks, looking down at you with a cocked eyebrow as he casually reloads a tiny lead bullet into the rifle’s barrel. Wow. Competency, much?

“Well, you were in the Army. Don’t they train you to shoot at stuff?” you ask, eyes trained on the little target inked on his left hand.

He shrugs. 

“You want that teddy bear, or not?”

“I do. I do want the teddy bear. It’s– it’s a plush Grogu, but yes, I do want it.”

“The plush green alien, yea.”

You make a face, taking mock offense.

The date —he said it was a date, so you guess you can call it that, right?— has been going extremely well, so far. Conversation flowing easy, stolen glances that don't make you wanna crawl out of your skin; he’s asked you a lot of questions, but it didn’t feel forced. You’re not sure if your brain is not gonna ask for payback at 3am on a Sunday, but you're feeling relaxed and at ease. He’s paid for everything, the diner, the rides, even the cotton candy, but he didn’t make a show of it. You could get used to this. The hanging out, that is, not necessarily the paying for everything part. 

“I’m teasin’ you. I love Star Wars too.”

“You do? Wait, are you one of those fans who’s gonna tell me I am not a real fan because I haven’t read all the books and comics and I can’t speak Jawa, but really it’s because I got a vagina?”

“Do I look like the kind of man who feels threatened by a vagina?” 

Oh. Oh shit. Ok.  

“Guess not,” you whisper, ducking your head so he can’t see your cheeks, that are fucking burning up. 

“Star Wars is actually the reason I became a pilot.”

He brings the butt stock of the rifle to his shoulder, adjusting his aim, and oh boy, he’s a sight to behold. That poor t-shirt of his is pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders, seams ready to burst. You admire the way his thick finger slides around the trigger guard, and in, before another balloon goes BOOM. 

The young man keeping the stand lets out an ostentatious sigh. He grabs a long pole with a hook at the end to get you the toy, but really, it looks more like it’s a pitchfork he’s gonna chase you away with.  

“How’s that?” you manage to articulate. 

“Han Solo is the coolest, and I wanted to be as cool as Han Solo.” 

He gives you a shy grin, setting the rifle down on the counter. 

“Shut up! I wanted to be Leia!”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.

Oh. Oh. 

Oh, that’s close. He’s crowding you against the counter, towering over you, his heady scent wrapping around you and he gives you that cocky look that turns your legs into Jell-o.

“Yeah,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to stare at the dip between his collarbone, and the little freckles on the tanned skin of his neck. 

The stand employee shoves the ginormous Grogu into your back, propelling you into Frankie’s chest. The man is HOT. Like, really hot. His skin is on fire, you can feel the heat through his threadbare t-shirt.

“Can I take you and Grogu home now, or is it too fast?” he says, his breath fanning your lips. “I don’t know how these things are supposed to work.”

Oh god, his hips are pressing into yours.

“I’ve no idea either, but I think you’re doing fine.”

“Yea?”

“Mmh mmh,” is the only sound you manage to produce.

“Good. Let’s go. Gonna make you see stars,” he adds, pushing away from you, and he immediately winces at the lame joke.

“Wow. Really?” you laugh. 

He flinches, hiding his pretty face under the brim of his hat.

“Fuck…”

—

Well, he wasn’t lying. You saw stars. And then you saw stars again. And again. And then you saw some more.

But the first thing you see when you get to his place is how clean it is. Tidy, but in a lived-in way.  

It’s a one-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor of a brick building. The kitchen sink is empty, a single plate and set of cutlery drying on the metal rack next to it. Some magnets adorn the fridge, among which you recognize a picture by Manuel Álvarez Bravo, and another by Berenice Abbott, and you try to police your expression because these are your two favorite photographers and that’s a pretty freaky coincidence, right? 

You step into the living-room while he washes his hands. It’s cozy. A soft amber glow pours in from the streetlights through the three narrow windows, behind a big slouchy leather couch. There’s a plant that looks alive and well on the console next to it, and an entire wall of seemingly handmade shelves, lined with books. The TV is old, downright ancient, and there’s a turntable propped onto a vintage stereo. An opened book lies face down on the coffee table. 

You crane your neck to read the title. Engineering Circuit Analysis. Okay, so that won’t be a conversation starter. 

You don’t know if the place always looks this tidy or if he cleaned it because he thought you might be coming over, and you’re not sure if the sheer assumption shouldn’t be a red flag, given it’s only the second time you’re seeing the guy, but you find that you don’t care. You really don’t. Not in the least. 

He joins you in the living-room, but he doesn’t turn the lights on. He’s taken his hat off and he’s combing his fingers through his thick mane of curls, and that sight alone was worth driving all the way here in his truck. 

“Want something to drink?” he asks, and that’s a very good question, do you want something to drink? 

You should, probably, because your mouth is so dry you can’t even gulp, and your nerves could use some alcohol, but you just stand here, like an idiot, watching him walk slowly toward you, wondering how close he’s gonna get before he stops walking.

Very close, apparently.

He looks so fucking tall and broad, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, but then again, it’s only the second time you see him. He leans over you, you have to twist your neck up to keep your eyes on his, but really, what you want to do is chew on his lips. Or his neck. You’re not picky.

He hooks his index fingers into the belt loops of your jeans to draw you in. Fuck, now your panties are ruined.

Time goes in slow motion as he licks his lips, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your mouth. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Is it ok?”

“Yes, please.”

Yes, please, Jesus fucking Christ, can you get any more cringe?

“There’s a lot of things I’m wanna do to you, if I gotta be honest,” he adds.

Oh, there, you can gulp. You think people might have heard you swallow from the other side of town.

“Okay. You can… do your worst, Morales.”

“You sure? Because my worst is… You need to tell me if–”

“Yes. I’m sure. You got my consent. All of it. Please.”

Who needs dignity? Not you. Not today.

“You’re fucking adorable, you know that? I am going to ruin you.”

You hate meeting new people. Meeting guys. You hate that whole dance, when you have to pretend you don’t really wanna fuck each other, oh but really you do, you hate getting undressed in front of a literal stranger, the awkwardness of it, new skin, new touch, everything grosses you out and you feel like curling into a ball inside your own skin, waiting for it to be fucking over. 

But this, this is different. Of course, it’s different, everything has been since you’ve laid eyes on him across that aisle in the corner deli.

You want him. God, you’re practically vibrating with it. And you want him to want you, too. 

He presses his lips to yours, and it’s subtle, the delicate, albeit insistent press of it, testing but also very much signifying you he’s gonna do everything he said he would, pulling you closer with your belt loops. 

Fuck it, you think. Fuck it. You want this. All of it. The taste of him and the weight of him and his touch and his skin. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into the kiss with a quiet little moan, your hands traveling up his large back, balling his t-shirt in your fists. He doesn’t miss a beat, his hand comes up to cup your face, fingers carding through your hair and you feel the wet glide of his tongue, prompting you to open. 

You do. Oh god, you do, and you taste the cotton candy as he licks into you. There’s the little tickle from his mustache, the pressure on your waist, the sparkling tingle along your spine and everything is delicious. His other hand is kneading at the curve of your hip, sliding down to your ass and he grabs you there, strong fingers splayed right between your cheeks, it’s firm and hungry and commanding.

He pulls you flush into him, and with a gently swaying motion against your belly, he lets you feel it. Feel what you do to him. Feel how much he wants you.  

Your body goes slack and tense at the same time, loose limbs, loose chest, clenching cunt and hardening nipples. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling away just a bit, “fuck, you’re sweet.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, not that you’d know what to say, his mouth is on yours again, his plush lips a perfect fit against yours, his tongue swirling inside you. And the kiss lingers, languid, unhurried, his hands roaming your figure, strong and slow, kneading your curves and using the grip to press you closer and closer into him.

When your fingers thread through his hair, you give his locks a little tug that has him grunting into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, but his mouth remains on you, lips sucking along the edge of your jaw, teeth scraping down your throat, slick pooling sticky and wet between your hips. 

There’s the ghost of a bite over your pulse point; you moan into it and suddenly, time accelerates. His kisses get frantic, he’s devouring you, only lifting his lips off your skin to tug off your t-shirt, deft fingers unclasping your bra. You pull so hard on his shirt you might as well rip it, but he only bites you harder, pushing into you stronger. The back of your knees hit the coffee table, you fall onto the couch. 

And that’s when everything slows again.

His gaze, raking over your naked breasts as he stands before you. His tongue darting between his parted lips. His movements, as he unbuckles his belt. 

You get lost in the sight of his chest, bare, broad, golden in the orange semi-darkness. 

“Take off the rest of your clothes, baby,��� he says, and the endearment shoots right through you. 

You’re never recovering from this night, this much you can tell. You’ll want this man forever, you are so fucked. 

You manage to get rid of your shoes and your jeans, but it’s a damn miracle with how much your hands are shaking. He’s toed off his boots and unbuttoned his pants without taking his eyes off you even for a split second. 

There’s something carnivorous in the half-smile dancing on his lips. He’s palming the bulge tenting his black boxer briefs, and you’re about to slide off your panties without a second thought when he stops you. 

“Wait. Bedroom. C’mere.”

Yes, sir. 

You stand up on wobbly legs and his hand skims around the curve of your hip, down the swell of your ass. He takes your arm, lifts it up to wrap around his neck, and you follow, diligently, circling your other arm around his broad shoulders. 

He picks you up like you fucking weigh nothing, how strong is this guy? What do they feed them in the Army? 

He keeps you there for a moment, your legs wrapped around his tapered waist, skin on skin, his head slightly tilted up and his eyes boring into yours. His hands grasping your ass cheeks, a bruising grip, the tip of his fingers reaching into that hollow curve at the top of your thighs, under the line of your panties, where you’re soaked with want for him. 

Your heart is beating so fast, pounding so hard, it’s going to tear out of your chest. Land right into his. 

The crease in his brow deepens, his gaze on you intensifies, thoughts clouding his rich brown eyes. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but closes it again.   

“Frankie—” you start, but he cuts you in. 

“Wait. I need to know this is not a one-time thing. I’m gonna see you again, right?”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

There are people laughing outside in the street. The sound of a police siren in the distance. A dog barking. You commit everything to memory. The amber darkness, the city noises, the hope in his eyes. The sensation of his strong hold, and that of your hardened nipples grazing his chest. 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, and he smiles, that wide dimpled smile you’d do everything for, his fingers burrowing a little deeper into your flesh. 

He carries you into the bedroom, bathed in the same orange semi-darkness, and lays you onto his bed. You sink into the fluffy cottony material of the comforter that smells like him. Leather and musk and safety. He hovers over you, eyes locked on yours. 

He rocks gently into you, just a faint press, his waist spreading your hips open, his hands roaming along the expanse of your naked skin, palming your breasts. The fabric of his tight boxers catches at your soaked panties, the button of his jeans biting into your belly. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, his voice a low husk, and for a second, you think he’s asking if he can kiss you again, but you quickly register, and your eyes grow wide. 

You nod, unable to articulate around the anticipation swelling in your throat. 

He makes a start at moving over you, but stops, and instead leans in to kiss you again. A wide, hungry kiss, licking into you avidly, pressing into you greedily, swallowing your moans as your fingernails run through his nape and into his hairline. 

He pulls away, and you all but whine, chasing his lips, rising to your elbows. Unwavering, he moves down on the bed, and there’s another flash of that carnivorous smile as he takes off his jeans, as he kneels between your legs. 

You watch, wide-eyed and ragged breath, as he brushes his knuckles along that curve at the top of your thigh, thick fingers hooking under the elastic band of your panties, pulling it to the side. He smiles at you again, before his head dips. 

His tongue parts your fold, and your head lolls back between your shoulders with a strangled cry. His hand pushing up the back of your knee, spreading you wider than you ever thought your body capable of, he licks into you with a rumbling groan. 

The curled tip of his tongue dives deep into your cunt, tasting you with thorough strokes, but he lifts his head with a pained grunt and a sliver of self-consciousness rips through your chest. 

“Fuck, baby, I think you’re going to ruin me.”

Your arms buckle, your back hitting the mattress, and he slides your panties down, twisting them around his wrist, before hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, and he buries his face into your cunt again. 

The wet glide of this tongue is hot and heavy, licking in broad stripes, sucking on your clit, thrusting into you. Arousal pools in, sticky and rich, at the base of your spine, streaming down your walls. You moan and wither against his mouth, and he chases your movements, cueing his ministrations to your reactions. 

Wet, explicit sounds fill the bedroom. He plays you like an instrument, your hips bucking against his face, wanton whimpers spilling out of you like music, fingers threading through his curls, and he brings you close, so close to your release, without ever letting you tip over the edge.

He’s taking his sweet time about it, true to his word, and you're begging now, sweet little moans you didn’t know your voice could carry, Frankie, Frankie please.

Gently, he eases your legs down, sitting back on his haunches on the bed. It’s a hitched breath, a broken little cry as cold air hits your soaked cunt but he runs a soothing hand along your inner thigh. 

“Shh, I got you, baby. I got you.”

Empty. The word flashes through your dazed brain, and you turn your head to the side to hide your face in the comforter. 

You’re empty, and you want him to fill you up. And you don’t know what you’re hiding from, if it’s from him or the embarrassment of being so fucking needy or the magnitude of your desire, but there’s this abyss inside you only him can fill and fuck, you’ve never felt this vulnerable before. Why now? Why him?

His finger presses at your entrance and you let out a quivering breath. A shallow thrust, an easy glide, and he adds another. Your back arches with relief. A flex of his digits, and he’s stroking a soft spot inside your cunt you didn’t know existed. 

With your last shred of strength, you lift your head up. He’s watching you, his boxers pulled down, practiced fingers circling his cock, dragging slowly up and down along the length of it. The orange glow from the streetlights ripples over his skin in amber shades and dark shadows. Your eyes trace the broad span of his chest, his strong, corded neck, the dark crown of his curls. 

The man looks like a fucking god.  

“Jesus,” you whimper, and he chuckles, that wolfish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The bottom half of his face glints in the semi-darkness, shiny with your slick. Precome dribbling over his knuckles. This is fucking filthy. You revel in it.

Your head drops with a soundless laugh, hips swaying along with his stroking fingers. 

You’re going to lose your mind with how good it feels, you think, but then it gets even worse, or better, when he lowers his thumb to your clit, rubbing smooth circles over it and your chest heaves with a silent plea. 

Soon, a tremor sizzles along your thighs, your release coiling brisk and strong at the center of you. It builds up like electricity, like liquid fire, potent and fast and white-hot.

Your entire body is alight with it, it travels down every nerve-ending and you come undone, you fucking unravel, his name dragging out on your lips. 

He lowers himself to slant his mouth over your cunt and you recoil, but he’s careful, his tongue darting swiftly into you, drinking your release with greedy groans. 

When he’s sure to have it all, he moves back over you, his face out of focus through your glazed eyes, the bulk of him engulfing you, his heady scent filling your lungs. 

“Wanna taste how sweet you are?” he asks, and you nod, sprawled out, boneless, pliant. 

His hand hinges your jaw open, thumb on your bottom lip. His spit rolls down his tongue into your open mouth and his hooded eyes, black with want, flicker down to your throat as you swallow it all. 

“Oh, you’re a good girl,” he marvels, and the praise is like a shockwave, like a second high, it coats your palate and sticks to your skin. You could swear it’s fucking tangible. 

You need more, more of him, more of that, but you’re not sure what’s next. This is uncharted territory. No man has ever prioritized your pleasure over his, before. 

You lift your hips off the mattress, bucking into him, but he frowns.

“If you need time—”

“I need you inside me,” you plead. 

“It’s a lot more than two fingers, baby,” he warns and yes, you can tell, with the heavy weight of his cock thrumming hot and angry against your belly. 

“I can take it.”

He huffs a smile, but it quickly falls when you tip your chin, wrapping his thumb between your lips. Your tongue curls around the pad of it as you suck on it, and you hear him gulp. One all. 

Oh, but he was right, it’s more, much more than two fingers, and his first thrust, however gentle, however shallow, has you squirming around the stretch of him. Your fingernails digging into his arms, he grunts with the effort, pushing in slowly, pulling out, and in again, sweat beading along his spine, restraint tensing his jaw. 

You lift your head, scraping your teeth over that bare patch in his scruffy jaw. 

“I can take it,” you repeat, and he growls, head dropping into the curve of your neck, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft skin at the base of your throat. 

He shoves himself in down to the base, and you cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He moves into you. With deep thorough thrusts, fast-paced and rough, he fills you up, just like you wanted, just like you asked, skin catching around his girth at your entrance. Sucking hard on the tender skin of your neck, sharp little bruises blooming in purple flecks along the column of your throat. 

Knees hitched up high along his sides, you feel sweat breaking on your forehead as you ease into his relentless rhythm, into the impossible size of him, into the pleasure-pain, because this is what you wished for. To feel him tonight. To feel him still tomorrow. And perhaps the day that follows. 

His grunts fan the shell of your ear, sending more slick rushing down your walls. His hand squeezes your breast, his trigger finger and thumb pinching your nipple, merciless, and your cunt starts to flutter along his length, a frantic collapsing of your walls, eyes clenched shut under your pinched brow. 

“Oh god, I’m so close,” you whine, and he straightens up without breaking his rhythm. 

“I wanna see your face when you come on my cock”, he growls, hooking his elbow under your knee, using it for leverage to bear you down on his cock as he picks up the fucking pace. 

His broad hand splayed reverently over your belly, the heel of it is a steady pressure over your clit, and when you come, your whole body quaking with the force of your second relief, he quickly follows, pulling out just in time to spurt thick pearly ropes over your quivering skin. 

“Oh shit, look at you,” he pants, before he collapses on the bed next to you, chest heaving. 

You lie there side by side for a beat, the room around you slowly coming back into focus. That damn dog is still barking, the night traffic a low and distant hum. 

Would it… would it be okay, acceptable, if you gathered his come with your fingers and licked them clean? Could you ask him to fuck your mouth, next? Or should you scamper off the bed to gather your clothes and leave? What’s the common protocol here? No one has ever turned you into this feral, greedy little monster before.  

He clears his throat. Oh fuck, that’s it. He’s gonna politely hint that you should now be leaving the premises. 

“Can you stay the night?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A hindered little sob rattles inside your chest. You address a heartfelt thank you to your lucky star for the midnight cravings that placed you in that corner deli the same night as him. Fuck, you’ll throw one in for that armed robber too.

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask.

He turns to his side to face you, folding his arm and propping his chin in his hand. His soft brown eyes meet yours. And there’s that gentle smile that swells up your heart three sizes.

“Yes, please.”

****

End note: the opening scene is very much inspired by one of the fair scenes in Anchor Stitch, on Ao3. Not for every one, but one of my all-time favourites. Also, this is fanfiction, so I wasn't going to bother with a fucking condom, but I know you're smarter than that.

[ribbonbite]

mulgogi [sebastian solace]

in which a certain prisoner is a kpop stan and sebastian hates(loves) it

a/n ♡ this isn't meant to be taken seriously (and is lowkey cringe) so to the people who hate fun THIS ISN'T FOR YOU!! also it's kinda short im sorry <3 also badly written but erm ^_^'' and to non kpop fans who like sebastian too, this probably won't make much sense im sorry 😭

(this is NOT an excuse to mix my hyperfixations and it is NOT cringe. it is also NOT a reflection of my headcanon of sebastian being a secret kpop stan who likes girl groups. /s)

name inspo: '"mulgogi" by fromis_9 (get it bc sebastian is a fish and mulgogi means fish HAHA!!)

God, Sebastian fucking hated them.

Not only were they super annoying to him, flashing their beacon at his face and whatnot, they were a kpop fan. Whenever they came into the shop they always blasted music that pissed him off. 'I dunno, Sebastian! Maybe you should stan fromis_9', they would say with a stupid grin on their face.

Why were they so joyous too? They were in a facility where almost everything is out to get them. It's like their brain was only full of puppies and kittens or something, even though they're experiencing the horrors of humanity.

Sebastian started biting his finger in irritation at the thought of them. Oh how he wanted to so badly punch them in their stupid yet cute face. As he got lost into his violent (and somehow sweet) thoughts, he suddenly heard noises coming from the vent.

Oh god... not them again...

"Guuueeessss who!" [Name] announces with the most bright tone of voice Sebastian has ever heard in his life. He instantly became nauseous as they walked into the shop.

"Oh... It's you." Sebastian says through gritted teeth, clapping his palms together. "I sure am glad you're back!" The sarcasm of the grumpy fish went over the head of the prisoner.

A grin made its way onto [Name]'s face. "Anyway, you know what time it is!" They exclaim before pulling out a speaker. Where did they even manage to get it? How is it even working in whatever hellhole they're in? Who knows.

With a press of the power button, the familiar tune of a specific song that [Name] liked playing started. The happy and summery tone did NOT match the current situation they were in.

"Have you seen my Hayoung photocard? I carry this around with me all the time!" They said, pointing a piece of paper with a random lady on it at Sebastians face

The fish looked at the paper with lowered brows, not amused at whatever the prisoner was doing. "...You're very annoying." He mutters as [Name] put the photocard back inside their bag. He hated the fact that he found it kind of endearing.

"Aww, but I know you like it!" [Name] teases. "Your tail is literally swaying to the beat of this song right now!" They pointed at his lower end, which was indeed moving despite Sebastians irritated face. He took a deep breath before crossing his arms. "Yea yea... the song is good." He admitted with defeat.

[Name] grinned and started jamming along. Maybe this was a weird way of coping with the fact that there are entities who could end their life at any moment, Sebastian thought.

Whatever the reason was, he was glad that they had some sort of light in their dark situation. He still found them irritating but hey, at least he has company, right? And he found [Name] sort of cute so he didn't completely despise them.

"Sebastian, I think you should really stan fromis_9." Their voice shook Sebastian out of thought. He looked at them for a moment, a deep sigh leaving his mouth.

"Sure! Why not."

if u can, please stream fromis_9's comeback "supersonic"! out august 12th <3

ending was a bit choppy and weird im sorry >_<

thanks for reading!! 🩷

[piccolos-bigtoe]

HEY IF YOU STILL TAKE REQUESTS,,

Scout driving Sniper's Van

Haiiiiii yeas I still do take reqs :33 if they interest me enough anyways!!! I couldn't get this one off my mind <3 so thank you for requesting this pisslord. I never draw vehicles tho lol so it was a challenge!!! Drew this sorta quick to wind down from school work They're listening to Jane Child's Don't Wanna Fall in love song.... Headcanons/writings below... Sorrey for cringe, is posting writings cringe or is it in now? Obvi just a quick thang and unedited

...

Sniper is an extreme lightweight. It doesn't take much for him to get buzzed, one or two pale ales do him in easily. Being an honorary old man at the ripe age of 26 (or was it 27? 28? He forgets) he just falls asleep wherever he can manage. This being the case, he avoids drinking when he goes out (which is rare on its own) and sticks to doing it by himself in his camper. It wasn't until a while after he and Scout became friends that he drank in any company.

Scout had one day mentioned off-handedly that he never really learned how to drive. Growing up with a handful of brothers and in a poorer part of Boston, as the youngest of them a car wasn't going to be given to him anytime soon. It felt odd to Sniper that something so integral to his being, the ability to freely travel whenever wherever, was something that the runner had never really experienced.

"I'll teach ya." Though of course the only car he had to teach in was his precious camper that has been with him through thick and thin, he didn't have to give much thought to the offer. Scout was smarter than people gave him credit for, he couldn't mess it up too much. And a more dramatic part of him felt bad that someone as free-spirited and independent as Scout didn't have (what Sniper considered anyways) a basic necessity to freedom.

"Aw for real man? Hell Snipes you barely even let people look at the friggen' van, you sure about this?"

"yep. I'll let you take a crack at it, sure."

And so Sniper taught Scout how to drive, and he took to it fairly quickly. Though the runner doesn't have his license, he is 'Sniper Approved. The few times he's gotten pulled over, he pulls out his approval badge and they let him go (he pulls out his bat and smacks their shit up).

And this leads into Scout being Snipers designated driver. Since Sniper has someone he trusts enough to drive the van, he's safe to drink whenever they all go out. Scout is not the biggest fan of drinking himself ('what's the point of drinking sumn' nasty just to get all sick n' dizzy?'), plus being sober means he has an advantage in pool and any card games.

Whenever Sniper asks for him to drive them back he typically goes "ah fine whateva! I'll drive, AGAIN." It means more to him than he lets on that Sniper trusts him enough to have broken his unspoken never drinking out rule and let him drive his camper. Though that's not something he would ever openly admit.

The same way Sniper would never admit that half the time he doesn't drink enough to get tired. He just pretends to sleep so he can sneak looks at Scout as the scenery of the New Mexico night passes by the window.

[nino-rox]

TASM Peter Parker x Male Bottom Reader

Content Warning : NSFW Smut, sexual themes (Blow Job), The Amazing Spider-Man AU, Top Peter Parker and Bottom Male Reader.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

The door was locked, and sloppy sounds of someone making out could be heard. Peter grabbed Y/N’s ass and squeezed it as they aggressively made out. “You know, if you’re this into me, you could’ve just asked me out,” said Y/N between kissing Peter. “Haha, let’s go for a test run first,” Peter said as he slid his shirt off. Peter’s fingers ran through Y/N’s hair, pushing him down towards his cock. Y/N kissed Peter’s chest, feeling up every inch of his lean muscular body. As soon as Peter’s dick touched Y/N’s lips, Y/N immediately began deep-throating it, looking up at Peter with a look that clearly told him to fuck his mouth. Peter stroked Y/N’s long brown locks while thrusting his hips forward, grunting pleasurefully. Peter pulled Y/N closer to himself as he lifted one of his legs over his shoulder and pushed deeper into his throat. Peter held Y/N by his hair as he began to harshly fuck his face making Y/N gag on his dick. He started going faster and harder, thrusting his hips forward hard enough to make his balls slap against Y/N’s cheeks. Peter reached around Y/N’s neck with both hands forcing him deeper onto his cock, pulling out to admire Y/N’s fucked out expression and teary eyes.

“How are you still not done?” Y/N managed to say, coughing and letting his throat recover from the abuse. “I want more,” Peter said, sitting on the chair and spreading his legs wide, exposing his still-hard cock craving attention. Peter looked at Y/N, his eyes searching for approval. “Fuck yea,” Y/N said as he licked Peter’s shaft and balls from top to bottom. Y/N opened his mouth wide, so Peter’s cock slipped right inside, wrapping his fat dick around his soft and juicy tongue as Peter moaned, leaning his head back, his body dripping sweat and his mind overloaded by pleasure. Peter grabbed the back of Y/N’s head, pushing it further down, his knees shaking uncontrollably from all the fun he was receiving.

Peter’s body began to tense as he felt his climax building up. He groaned loudly as his body jerked violently, thrusting Y/N’s head deeper onto his dick. Y/N looked up at Peter with an expression that clearly told him he wanted more, begging him to keep fucking his throat. Peter grabbed Y/N by the hair, forcing him to throat even more of his fat cock, pulling out and thrusting back in. Peter’s whole body shook from pleasure as his load shot directly down Y/N’s throat, his orgasm overwhelming his body completely. His breathing became rapid as he moaned uncontrollably. Y/N pulled off, making a popping sound, cum dripping from the side of his mouth; he maintained eye contact with Peter as he licked and swallowed every last bit.