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#but I think this is the beginning of the end
billymayslesbian · 2 days
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Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.
Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.
Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.
The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.
“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”
“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.
Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?
Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.
Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”
The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.
Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.
“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”
Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”
Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.
“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”
Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.
“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”
Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.
Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.
Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.
“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”
“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”
His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.
Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.
“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”
Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”
Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”
“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”
“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.
“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”
“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”
The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.
Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.
Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”
Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?
Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.
“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”
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arlertwhore · 3 days
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
synopsis: you try to breakup with paige, but she apologizes the right way.
warning (s): smut, strap, nasty makeout sesh, desperate p (on my knees for her yo), body licking, nipple sucking, ab riding, strap riding, overstim, hairpulling. think it’s all.
word count: like 4k or sum?
author note: GUYSSS SEND ME REQQ im runnin outta ideas but they’re helping fr — omgosh i was kinda lazy w this one but 🤷‍♀️ we’re done soo enjoy!! Unedited again, based off req again, and written very late (again)
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For a while now, Paige had sensed things were starting to change between you guys, but she never realized the full extent of it until you were laid out before her, prepared for her to claim what she'd rightfully believed belonged to her and just her.
In that moment and the moments that followed, she'd become immensely startled at how susceptible she'd become to the clear break from casuality your actions unintentionally endorsed. You most likely hadn't seen it that way -- you'd always harbored a tiny figurative crush on Paige from the beginning which you had confided in her friends about.
Paige was also well aware, notioned by your behavior during sex. You consistently praised her for being 'so fucking hot' and would go on fuck-drunk-tangets about how attractive you found her, or you'd occasionally steal a kiss from her whenever her lips were momentarily unoccupied during your hookups. She found your excitement endearing and trusted your ability to turn it off outside of the bedroom, which you always did. But for the first time ever, truly ever since you guys had fucked, which was countless times now, you had let your emotions overcome you, and you had kissed Paige in a way that was incredibly intimate, meant for real lovers.
Due to her occasional tiredness that sometimes prohibited the girl from leaving, she had spent the night, and the morning after, when you had both woke up interwined, naked with your bodies against each-other, you gave her a telling gaze before foolishly pressing your perfect lips against hers in a way that didn't require a genius in strictly physical relationships to realize that wasn't the moment for a kiss.
One thing about Paige, though, was that she couldn't ever resist you. She hated knowing so and wanted to fix it. In the same way you had a silly crush on her, she always held a small amount of an irrestible infatuation with you. If she didn't want to do something, Paige always managed to stop herself, but with you, she could never regain control or resist certain instances at particular times.
As most casual partners did, you two never kissed without it leading somewhere, and you were both aware of the limited time you guys had.
Yet, you spent a significant portion of that dwindling time passionately making out in bed like lovers, not pausing for a single moment to even catch your breath. It was undeniably intimate, passionate, and emotional, yet to Paige, it felt like another mistake, this time on your end. She knew you were very smart but chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. Due to her budding feelings, she chose to believe it could've just been her misreading the signs of the kiss and it could've been normal, just you being overly excited on accident, which happened to the best of us.
It could've even been you savoring your last moments with her before life resumed again.
You had been busy working and going to group study dates with your friends while Paige and her team traveled a city over to train at a renowned studio before their big game on the weekend, meaning she'd be gone until the next Tuesday, a week from your morning together.
It had been Thursday, a good ways through the week until Paige returned and until you had your off day booked, but you guys had not texted or called despite both thinking of each-other lots. All your friends, who previously didn't care about Paige, believing her to be nothing but a douchey-player-skeeze, finally cared enough to listen to your loss of virginity story. Every detail, from the precise strokes she gave you to her entranced demeanor at the state she'd left you in and the morning after story made them recognize the intensity and intimacy in the situation.
Some of them believed that Paige was breaking from her usual behavior, what they called her many 'laws', because she was starting to seriously like you, but the others thought it had been the opposite way around. They said she had gotten what she wanted from you and was done, seeing no point in caring about her rules at the end of the road. From the beginning of your involvement with her, they warned you that it was a trap designed to make you develop feelings before she eventually lived up to her player reputation and broke the heart of an innocent, never-before-loved girl. This topic sparked a heated debate among your friends, who relished the opportunity for debate. As they argued about whether Paige had fallen in or out of love, a grave realization hit you like a ton of bricks.
Before Paige settled down with you only, a choice she made on the basis of you being the only girl she was seeing who wasn't stress, drama, or complications, she was always transparent about her weekends after big games. If she had chosen to stay where the game was hosted for the weekend instead of coming back home to relax after a busy week, it meant she was getting with other girls. ou weren't by any means dumb. Paige was going to leave you; not for any of the debated reasons, but because she had likely realized the intimacy long before you had and was now prepared to escape. The kiss you initiated was spontaneous, and Paige likely knew this, choosing to begin a subtle breakaway. She'd start by making it clear she would be with other girls, not calling or texting, thus ghosting you, hoping your smart self would catch the hint.
And boy, you had. You broke down. On the kitchen floor, all your moments with Paige, starting from the beginning, replayed in your head in a loop. You remembered when you first met at the party, the way she looked at you, and how it felt when she kissed you. Then, there was the first time you two had sex. You recalled how nervous you were, and how she reassured you, alike the presumed, figurative and literal last time you had. You reflected on the first time you ever cried in front of her, upset at your grades and the first time she opened up to you about her struggles with wanting a normal life while also being committed to her career. It was a rare glimpse into her world, and it brought you closer together.
As these memories flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing and sadness for what was now lost.
Life had become unbearably stressful, and you found solace in Paige's company, perhaps subconsciously evading your stress by seeking her out. She was more than just a girl you were fucking ; she was a friend, someone you could turn to when you had no one else. But now, the prospect of experiencing her comfort again seemed uncertain, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all your fault for initiating this foolish ordeal in the first place. You were upset, feeling betrayed by Paige's sudden detachment. How could she just let you go like that? You felt dumb for ever believing she wasn't capable of it, despite her warnings. The exhaustion from juggling school, work, and studies had reached its tipping point, and you were overwhelmed by it all. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in a sea of self-doubt and despair. "My friends were right," you lamented. "How could I agree to getting used by her?" you cried out. Thoughts of your own perceived foolishness echoed in your mind. "I'm so dumb," you whispered to yourself, feeling like you had single-handedly ruined everything.
And in a fit of utter madness, you decided to text her, asking: ur stayin over the wknd? lmao i just realized that wtf? When an hour passed, her typical response span, you lashed out and texted: who are u fucking paige? All boldly. You never questioned it -- that was a rule. But who cared about breaking her rules at this point? You following them for this long had got you nothing but dumped and ignored like a piece of trash.
To your expentancy, Paige never replied and you texted her a long paragraph detailing your frustration with her. As you reached the end of your message, a sense of clarity washed over you. In a futile last attempt to take control of the situation, regardless of who said it first, with a heavy heart, you made the difficult decision to end things, recognizing that prolonging the pain was no longer an option.
Then, you got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. There, you released all your pent-up energy and had a chance to focus on yourself. Needless to say, you slept soundly after letting your emotions out, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders at chosing to prioritize your own well-being.
Paige's morning (and night) was a stark contrast to yours. While you wept, she was getting with a UCONN cheerleader after hours and drunk out of her fucking mind. She woke up at the side of a random girl while expriencing the worst hangover she had ever had, unable to recall the events of the previous night.
She stumbled from an Uber to her dorm house, feeling disoriented and sick. Upon returning home, Azzi noticed her state and confiscated her phone to retrace her night, only to discover a barrage of texts from you. Paige spent the next two days sleeping off her hangover, feeling utterly drained. On Sunday, when the rest of the team returned home, they staged an intervention for Paige.
They expressed concern about her drinking habits and advised her to focus on her career rather than letting a girl consume her thoughts. They warned her against reconciling with you, citing your recent breakup and her drinking as red flags. Paige felt confused and defensive as her team confronted her about the relationship. She argued that there was nothing wrong with it and denied being as invested as they claimed. However, when they pointed out evidence of her attachment to you, including her lock-screen, her taking your virginity, and the videos of you she frequently watched without caring for being caught, she felt defeated. It was at that moment, when her world seemed to be pushing you two apart, that Paige discovered you had initiated the push yourself. She felt the same heartache and confusion you had felt the day before. Despite trying to maintain a facade of indifference, she couldn't deny the impact the situation was having on her. Despite her efforts to focus on training, playing, and studying, thoughts of you consumed her late at night, leaving her feeling torn and emotionally drained.
She knew it was probably wrong to do so, but once again, she gave you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you were going through stuff or maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgmental. There was no way you truly meant to end things and this rebellion was very uncharacteristic of you. Paige felt the need to see you face-to-face, to observe your behavior and gauge if you were truly done with her, and if she was truly done with you as her friends suggested she should be. Plus, she had always emphasized the importance of speaking in person, so you should have known to expect her at your door on Tuesday night.
Coincidentally, you had just ordered dinner, so when you heard the knock, you pulled open the door without hesitation and froze dead in your tracks at the sight of her.
"Hey," she half-smiled, awkwardly. This was bad. What the hell was she doing here? Deep down, you knew you were still tangled up inthe aftermath of your decision, but that didn't stop the instinctual yearning that surged within you at the sight of her. You hadn't even expected her to show up, stirring a potent mix of confusion and desire that pulsed through your veins and heart like a wildfire. As you stood there between your door-frame, silent, your body betraying you with insistent tingles and heated pulses to your clit, she continued. "I know I should've called or texted you back before showing up, but I've been in some shit," Paige confessed, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanna talk." "You're right, Paige. You should've texted me back or called me. Your entire week away, why didn't you?" you pressed, voice sharp with frustration. A silence hung heavy in the air briefly before the girl scratched the nape of her neck, her demeanor embarrased. "I
was hungover," she admitted sheepishly. You nodded, your tongue poking at your cheek as you mulled over her response. "Alright, well, it's not my fault then, Paige. Goodnight," you stated firmly, intending to close the door. However, with her strength, she held it open as she insisted, "Don't be a bitch, y/n. You aren't this kinda girl." Against your will, the door was opened fully. "No, Paige, you don't get to ignore me and then show up to fix things when you realize I'm not just some toy at your convience and that I can make choices in our situation too. Up until now, I've respected everything you've ever told me, so just this once, respect what I said to you," you asserted firmly.
Paige could have engaged in a heated debate with you, confident in her ability to outmaneuver your frustrations, but that wasn't her intention being there. She wasn't ready to lose you yet. "You're that mad at me? You wanna end everything?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as she searched your eyes for an answer. You remained silent, averting your gaze from hers, which alone had spoken volumes. She sighed out, remorseful. "I'm sorry." This was a far cry from the Paige you'd begun with. At the start of it all, when she held all the power and you were simply the girl, she would have never uttered a straightforward apology. If she flaked on you and showed up later, she didn't apologize outright. Instead, she tended to offer explanations for her actions. Presently, she had not even attempted her typical evasive manuvers. "I'm an asshole." she conceded self-deprecatively. And oddly enough, with her hands clasped behind her back, chewing out her bottom lip, and a look of remorse on her face, she just looked so sexy to you.
Your face had lit up after she'd insulted herself, like it had pleased you, and when Paige saw your change in demeanor, she instantly recognized a positive response from you to anything she'd said, so she spoke again, her tone now more fervent and eager for your acknowledgment. "I am, right?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation, as if searching for validation from you. When you tried to look up, avoiding her eyes, it was her touch next. You craved it. You'd missed it. You wanted it. Yeah, you wanted to be strong too—but with her hand interlocking with yours, you really wanted it. She did too. You could feel her eyes tracing down your body, and in that moment, you knew Paige missed you too, even if she was acting a fool in absence. She could have any girl in the world, but here she was, becoming undone, unraveled, so desperate just for you. You nodded your head carefully, confirming your agreement with that sentiment. She was an asshole. "Yeah," she murmmured, her desire for your approval palpable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her as her head buried itself delicately in the crook of your neck—it would make it all too real. At first, she's still, engulfing your scent with deep inhales like a curious dog. As she inhales, the air sends shivers down your spine, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Every nerve in your body feels alive, sensitive to her every touch. That's what causes you to let out a soft moan when with a desperate hunger, Paige's tongue glides over your skin, tracing every curve of your crook with an urgency that betrays her need for you and leaves you breathless. She keeps going, entirely undeterred by your half-hearted whisper of, "Paige, stop." as your hand rests on her waist, holding her close. It's as if something has come over her. She acts like she's starved and can't get enough of you. Like she's trying to imprint every inch of you into her memory before you slip away. "Don't leave me," Paige's voice trembles with longing as her hand snakes down to grip your ass tightly. "Please."
You're losing yourself too, succumbing to the intoxicating heat of the moment. Other building occupants could stumble upon the scene unfolding, but in that moment, you don't care about nothing other than her. As the intensity of the moment washes over you, your head, previously tilted backward, comes down instinctively.
You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of Paige's lips against yours as you press into the kiss. Her tongue darts against yours and with an insatiable hunger, she begins to prod at your tongue, licking that too. You can taste the faint trace of yourself on her tongue, heightening the intensity of the moment as you both vie for control in the kiss. You begin to grind against each other, your bodies moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrors the urgency of your kisses, and your lips struggle to keep pace with the fevered tempo as you move against each-other, Paige groaning loudly, unable to contain the surge of arousal exiting her pussy. With each further movement, spit begins to fall on your chest, a tangible sign of the passion consuming you both.
In the blink of an eye, Paige has slipped into your apartment. She places you against the front door and her lips trail across your chest as she swiftly undresses you. You find yourself yielding to her advances. She exudes a strength that renders resistance futile.
As your clothes fall away, Paige doesn't linger to admire the sight before her. She mentally accounts how she couldn't ever take the sight of your body, in real life and not over a phone, for granted, but she's too worked up to say anything to you at this point.
As she lays you down on the bed, she wastes no time in shedding her shirt, revealing the contours of her body clad in a sleek sports bra. The definition of her abs catches your eye, a testament to her week of rigorous training. A small moan escapes your lips at the sight, fueling the desire that courses through your veins. Instead of passively accepting her advances, you decide to take control. Rising up on your knees, you grasp the strings of her sweatpants and pull her towards you, eyes locked with her blueys. "I wanna ride 'em, P," you declare, seizing her by the waist and guiding her onto the bed. She's momentarily lost for words, her eyes widening in bewilderment. "W-what?" with a soft chuckle, you help her prop herself up against the bedpost before straddling her waist. Leaning forward, you dangle your breasts enticingly in front of her face.
"You're so strong," you murmur, releasing a loud moan as you rock your hips forward. She flexed in response, mirroring your movements, whether intentional or not, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Her solid, sturdy body was perfect for the grind of your clit. "I just wish you were as smart as you are powerful."
Paige held onto your hips as you ground forward, the slickness between your bodies creating a smooth, frictionless glide. With a husky tone, she murmured, "All wet for me, huh, ma?"
"Who wouldn't be?" you whimpered in response, your hips bucking eagerly against her. As you increased your pace, Paige delivered a sharp slap to your ass, exactly how she knew you liked it, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. "You still like me," she stated the obvious truth as you shuddered uncontrollably beneath her touch. Her mouth latched onto your nipple as you continued grinding, the feel of her lips and tongue making your hips stutter. "Mmph, fuck, P, wait... I'll cum if you..." you paused, halting your movements to catch your breath as she continued to suckle at your chest. With a loud 'pop', she unlatched, her own chest heaving with desire. "Can I fuck you with it again?" she asked, her voice thick with need and longing, her eyes searching yours for consent to do what began all this in the first place. "In the drawer," you replied mundanely, trying to hide your excitement though your desire for her was raging. You reasoned that the more unamused you behaved, the more she would try to make it up to you, all calculated to draw her closer while maintaining a semblance of control.
As she dug through your drawer and began to fit it on upon the bed, you stood up, positioning your vanity mirror to face the bed.
You needed to see yourself for what you were about to do. Climbing onto the bed, you slithered up Paige's body slyly, pointing your finger toward the mirror, your reflections capturing the desire and anticipation in both of your eyes. "Kay," you huffed, elevating your hips and watching as you slowly sunk down on her. She held your hips to help you, but you pushed them off, frowning fauxly.
"What, Paige? Don't think I got it in me to fuck you?" you teased, elevating slowly before coming back down again. With her hands behind her head, arms involuntarily flexing, she shook her head. "Never. Not how I fuck you." You ticked your head. "Let's see then. Shut up and let me focus." As you picked up the pace, you closed
your eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. It was a familiar feeling, one you had forgotten but now remembered all too well. Paige's heavy breaths, entertained, echoed in the room, a testament to the intesity of the moment. You struggled to find a steady rhythm, letting instinct guide your movements. "Baby, slow it d--" Her voice, calling you "baby," sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "Mmh," you squeaked listlessly, "Fuck, Paige, keep talking to me," you moaned, bouncing on the thick member, your head thrown back in abandon. "What's the magic word?" she teased, her words sending shivers down your spine. "Pl-please," you stammered, your body on fire. "Good girl, baby. You know I love when you use your manners," she cooed, her words driving you over the edge. Unable to resist any longer, you surrendered to Paige's devotion, allowing her to guide you toward the peak of ecstasy, despite the initial intention of taking control.
She remembered how much you enjoyed it on your stomach. With precision, she slammed her hips against yours, pounding you relentlessly for around ten seconds before deciding to switch your position, sensing that you were close. With you now on your stomach, she placed a hand on your hip and pressed you down against the bed as she continued to pound into you with fervor. Gripping your hair, she pulled you up so you could see yourself in the mirror, intoxicated by the sight. You looked utterly wrecked. Drool escaped your parted lips, your hair matted with sweat, and tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. She had fucked you so relentlessly that it bordered on painful, yet the pleasure was incomparable. The sight of her biting her bottom lip as she worked you over, plunging deep inside you without breaking a sweat, was mesmerizing. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her body against yours as she continued to piston her hips, driving deep into you. "I'm so, so sorry. I hope you forgive me. I won't stop until you do."
Paige's powerful strokes sent loads of pleasure coursing through your bones, each thrust causing you to shake. You gripped the sheets tightly for stability, your nails digging into the fabric as she plunged into you with a hunger that matched your own. With your legs wrapped around her, you met her gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes as she devoured you with hers.
The sight of her arm muscles flexing as she held you steady, abs too, and her body working against yours fueled the fire burning within you, and it was only a matter of time until you exploded entirely. The reflection in the mirror only added to the raw eroticism of the moment, capturing the sheer intensity of your connection, the passion that consumed you both. She had you completely at her mercy, using you for her own pleasure, and yet, you couldn't help but revel in the sheer ecstasy of it all. "I wanna cum, Paige," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Please, just keep fucking me like that." The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, a song of want mingling with the rhythm of your moans. You surrendered to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in wave after wave of bliss, each one pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Do you forgive me yet?" she breathed, her voice dripping with cockiness. You shook your head, the ache of desire mingling with the sting of resentment. "Why not, baby?" she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin. The truth spilled from your lips, a confession. "Because you're so fuckin' mean to me," you gasped, the words punctuated by a moan as she drove into you with renewed fervor. She shook her head, a smirk playing at her lips as she reveled in the power she held over you. "If I was mean to you, would I be fucking you to tears?" she taunted, each word pushing you closer to the brink of surrender. Please, Paige, faster, m'gonna cum so hard," you gasped, your nails digging into her wrists as you begged for more. "Yeah, baby?" she purred, disregarding the marks on her skin as she complied with your request, increasing the tempo with each thrust. "Fuck, P, yeah," you moaned, "shit mommy, I'm gonna cum." But she slowed herself slightly, denying you release. "No, you're not," she asserted, her thumb wiping away your tears as she held your gaze. "Not until you ask mommy to."
"Ughhh, P, so mean," you whined, complying, "please, mommy, please let me cum on your cock."
She smiled, proud. "C'mon baby, give it to me, mama," she urged, her movements becoming more frantic with each word. "Give it to me," she repeated, "give it to me," and when you finally did, your entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over you as you released, your essence squirting out and staining the sheets. You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room, uncaring if your neighbors could hear, lost in the throes of ecstasy. But she didn't stop, continuing to fuck you even after you'd climaxed. And when you finally begged her to stop, overwhelmed and spent, she paid you no mind, only focused on one thing and one thing only. "You forgive me, baby?" she asked, her thrusts sloppy. "Yes, yes, yes, Paige. I forgive you," you murmured, unable to raise your voice any longer."Huh?" she teased, forcing you to speak louder. "Yes, Paige. I FORGIVE YOU!" you declared, the words ringing out as she abruptly withdrew from you. You knew what she wanted next as she removed the strap, her intentions clear. "Let's put your mouth to use," she commanded, and the night was far from over.
an: y/n delulu era? Idk how I rly feel ab this one lmk guys I love reading your comments and my inbox it’s like the best 🤞
also y’all this is part 4
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gi4hao · 2 days
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💋 ˎˊ- you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face
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-> ot13! fluff, 1 mention of making out in hoshi’s, mention of kissing dino’s neck :> (also not proofread yet bc i’m too lazy)
-> reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3
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— seungcheol
although he’s a bit confused by the question, he’s more down for it than he’ll ever admit. he insists on keeping your phone in his hand to take pictures, which he’ll definitely add as a widget among your apps. it’s hard for him to stay still while you kiss his face tho, because he’s used to immediately kissing you back… which he eventually does once his face is full of reddish stains.
— jeonghan
he’ll giggle his way through it, that’s for sure. head resting on your lap, he makes it hard to get precise stains because he can’t stop squirming after every kiss. still, he looks very happy with the end result as he admires himself in the mirror. “i’ve never looked better,” he beams before kissing your lips, transferring some of the lipstick on his, “can i do it to you?”. and so begins round 2, during which he’s just as giggly.
— joshua
100% okay with it, and he’ll stay surprisingly still during the process. a patient smile on his lips, he keeps his eyes closed while you pepper his face with kisses. “i feel like a canvas,” he says, “it’s pretty nice. mostly because the painter is really hot”. you playfully hit his shoulder, because he knows how much this kind of remarks fluster you. “well you’re a really hot canvas too,” you add, hands on his jaw to plant a comically loud kiss on his lips.
— jun
another giggler, obviously. he acts as if it’s the first time your lips touch his face, making him feel almost ticklish. and just seeing him grinning from ear to ear makes you sort of forget about your initial plan: long story short, the stains mostly end up on his mouth. “it’s a look!” he says, looking at his reflection in his phone before putting it down to kiss you again, “will definitely want to recreate it again…”
— hoshi
he says he’d let you do whatever you want, yet he can’t help but ask “how does it look?” after every. single. kiss. and he looks so proud when you finally show him the end result. he thinks it looks kind of hot (and he’s not wrong about that). actually, there’s no guarantee he won’t turn this wholesome activity into a makeout session… the stains are already showing that he’s obsessed with you, why not continue down this road?
— wonwoo
his cheeks have never flushed so quickly before. you wanting to leave lipsticks stains on his face is kind of like… you trying to claim him as your boyfriend… and he kind of loves it… so yes, he would hold his glasses in his hands and just pray that you don’t tease him too much about the pink shade on his cheeks. “you’re awfully silent,” you playfully remark between two kisses. “well, you know… just trying not to lose my mind,” he replies, carefully looking away.
— woozi
at first you think he accepts just to make you happy… but you notice he’s actually really into it; like when he offers to reapply the lipstick himself after the first few kisses. and he does it very carefully, tongue sticking out as he follows the natural curves of your lips. “are you in love with me or something?” you tease him with a fake frown. letting out a sigh, he gazes at you with a serious expression: “my cheeks are covered in the shape of your lips… i’m madly in love with you.”
— dokyeom
he’s shocked you even asked for his permission, because this man is always down for kisses, no matter the reason for them. also, he thinks lipstick looks really sexy on you but that’s besides the point… his heart does a little jump when he sees you being extra careful before kissing the mole on his cheek, because you want to make sure this stain is the most perfect one. “can i take a picture? it’s for my lockscreen,” you ask, and he swears his heart is about to burst. “you can do whatever makes you happy, my love.”
— mingyu
for you, he’s a living doll. it’s very rare for him not to be on board with something, so naturally he will also say yes to that. and seeing how gorgeous these stains look on his tanned skin only feeds your mind with further ideas. “wait… i want to do something else,” you say, readjusting your position until his forearm is at your lips’ reach. he burst out laughing when he feels your lips crash against his bicep. “now i’ve claimed your pretty face and your pretty muscles,” you happily state, before letting out a squeal as he pulls you closer. “you’ve claimed all of me a long time ago, beautiful”.
— minghao
yeah, sure! why not! but he’d want to take it up a notch and make it artsier. “can you leave some here as well?,” he asks you, pointing at the collar of his white shirt, “i’ll go over the stains with some fabric paint later”. so you do as told, because nothing make you feel as loved as minghao considering you his muse. “perfect,” he nods when you show him the end result, which makes you feel even more flustered, “that way you’ll always be with me. and that’s all i could ever ask for,” he smiles, and you’re pretty sure now is a good time to finally give his lips some attention.
— seungkwan
he is so down for it he could even go grocery shopping with those stains on his face. in fact, he seems to enjoy it so much that you get a little carried away. “i thought you meant about ten kisses… not ten thousands,” he teases, looking at his reflection in the mirror. most of his face is covered in lipstick, but the softness of his skin is the only one to blame. “forgive me for loving my boyfriend too much…” you playfully roll your eyes, which prompts seungkwan to trap you in his arms and give you a taste of your own medicine, leaving so many kisses on your face you can barely think straight.
— vernon
it’s not the first time you ask him to partake in something you saw on social media, he’s more than used to it. “peak boyfriend activity,” he states as he leans back against the couch, lovingly watching you apply the lipstick. he tries his best to keep a straight face during your kisses, but there are a few chuckles he can’t hold back, simply because it makes him so giddy. “i just know this will be my new contact picture…” he says when you’re done. as you take your phone out of your pocket, you correct him: “actually… this is going in the groupchat”.
— dino
oh he would be so smug about it. “i’m all yours,” he tells you, his own lips puckered to make sure you won’t forget to kiss them too. “this is as close as i’ve ever been to happiness” he adds when you’re done, with a (slightly exaggerated) peaceful sigh, “kissed, marked by my lover’s lips, and seconds away from asking if you can leave some on my neck as well…”. you look at him with crossed arms and amused eyes, but you both know you’ll end up doing it right away, especially when he’s looking so, so handsome right now.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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mareestoermers · 1 day
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i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.
1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.
2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.
3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).
4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.
5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.
just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.
in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.
even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.
in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.
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arieslost · 2 days
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
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word count: 790
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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dante-mightdie · 12 hours
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just a thought that i thought of after reading the angst fics 😖:
Pretend the guy who took her home was some rando she became close with at the bar, and that she told him about all her troubles and issues that she encountered with 141 recently. He comforted her and then they drank together yadayadayada he takes her home, the boys tuck her in despite them being mad, the cute “princess” moment, then morning.
When morning comes, they all talk it out, only catch is that now they’re back at square one when getting Reader to open up, and get intimate. Let alone even hug them.
Another catch is that they seemed more comfortable with literally anyone else BUT them. They all went out? Reader brings the guy friend to come along, then falls asleep on his shoulder accidentally, even though Gaz offered his shoulder first instead. They all are gonna cuddle and sleep in the same bed together and want Reader to join in? Reader opts for a plushed animal (The big plushies— Like a giant bear or shark) instead. It was like getting Ghost to let down his walls, just a little harder since instead of short answer “no’s” and grunts, they’d feel like they’re bullying Reader even though all they asked was want they want for breakfast.
Ex: *They all are talking, then Price turns to Reader* “Where do you wanna go out tonight, sweets?”
Reader: *literally sweating and looking at every other place thats not any of them, fiddling with their fingers as they mutter out a soft,* “Dunno.”
here’s a lil something something i’ve been thinking about
c/w: reader has trust issues, boys attempt to make amends, not a happy ending really but still more to come, panic, anxiety
it had been a stressful few weeks for you after that night at the bar
when the morning came, you woke up to find yourself in the centre of their bed. sheets all tangled with up in the knot of limbs made up by you and your lovers. heavy arms slung over your waist and sleeping faces smushed into the side of your neck
this may have been the norm for you a few weeks ago but with recent events, this makes you feel trapped. especially since you can’t recall the events of the previous night. your brain had switched off after your fourth daiquiri
you must have gotten hammered and crawled into the bed after hours, you think to yourself. must have gotten so lonely and desperate that you crawled into their bed. you have to get up and leave before they find you
you carefully pull their arms from you, untangling your legs with a painfully slow pace. no risky movements. when you think you’re just about to make it, you feel a strong arm snaking its way back around your waist and pulling you straight back into the flesh pile
“where’re you goin’, darlin’?” price grumbles in your ear, his prickly bread tickling your skin when he pushes his face back into the side of your neck. your eyes widen at the situation you’ve found yourself in
price perks up a bit, lifting his head when he feels you push at this arm wrapped around you like you want it off. he lifts his arm slightly for you. you twist and turn to get out of his grip, scrambling to your feet and watching him with a nervous expression
“woah, calm down. please don’t act like i’m going to hurt you, you know I’d never do that.” price says with a soft tone, hands out in surrender as you step away from the bed. he frowns at your skittery nature
“what happened last night? why am I in your room?” you ask, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. your hands feel soft cotton rather than the black silk you wore the night before and you look down to see one of soaps old band t-shirts, “did I put this on?”
the boys begin to stir awake at the sound of hushed voices. soft groans and joints clicking filling the room but you don’t take your eyes off of john’s. he seems sad, like you’ve just subtly devastated him
“you came home in a bit of a state so we bought you to bed. why’d you look so nervous, honey?” john coos, the rest of the boys are fully awake now, sat up and watching this scene unfold in front of them
feeling all those sets of eyes on you makes you close up, looking down at the floor and not saying a word. like you’re trying to make yourself small, hard to see and perceive
john climbs out of bed next, placing a gentle hand on the top of your head. “let’s go get something to eat, yeah? we all have a lot to talk about today.”
all you can do is stand rigid and stare at them with shock splattered on your face as they all climb out of bed, walk over to you and plant a kiss on your forehead before following john downstairs
you stare at the empty doorway for a few minutes before creeping downstairs, brow furrowed the whole time as you watch them move around in the kitchen. john grips your tense shoulders and nudges you into a seat before placing a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of you
johnny and kyle are setting the table, smiling at you and asking how you slept. playfully scolding you for drinking too much before popping a few painkillers in front of you. you feel like you’ve been placed in the middle of a tv sketch. like at any moment someone with a camera is gonna run out and tell you that you’re being punked
“how was your night out, darling? we see you made a new friend.” john gives you his classic close lipped smile, the one you used to tell him made him look like a quokka. you jerk away when you feel simon walk over, ruffle your hair and place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you wordlessly
“uh… it was… fine.” you mumble, staring down at the ceramic bowl. kyle connects his phone to the speaker, letting the kitchen become filled with morning news reports and music as they cook breakfast. you barely touch the food they put in front of you, your paranoid brain telling you that something bad was about to happen
they fill the tables with plates full of food, all the fixings for me a full-english and more. fruit and pastries, jugs of freshly squeezed juice, courtesy of kyle and that ridiculously expensive juicer that he asked john to buy him. they start helping themselves to the food, piling their plates high whilst you just sit there anxiously, hands kept firmly in your lap
your coffee has since gone cold, only taking one sip to help you wash down the painkillers. you can’t take it anymore. you don’t like how normal they’re acting, as if they haven’t spent the past few weeks putting you through hell at home,
“need to do the food shop today. why don’t you come with me, princess? we’ll pick up some lunch and sit in the garden. the weather is-“ john begins talking but you just cut him off
“what the actual fuck are you talking about, john?” you blurt out, hand coming up to silence him. everyone stops eating and turns to look at you. “have you lost the plot? why are you acting like everything is just normal?”
“I ken it’s been a difficult few weeks for ye, hen but we just want-“ johnny begins to speak, a frown tugging at his lips as he reaches his hand across the table to grab yours. you snatch it away, looking at him like he was insane
“I don’t give a fuck what you want!” you scoff, snatching your hand away before he can touch you, “I don’t know what joke you lot are playing on me but it’s not funny. I can’t- I don’t- just fucking stop, okay!?”
you struggled to find your words for a moment before bursting out, your lip wobbling and eyes welling up before you stand from the table abruptly. you turn on your feet and storm upstairs, going straight to your room and slamming the door
the second the it’s closed you slide down the wooden door, tears falling from your eyes as you bury your face in your hand. meanwhile, downstairs the kitchen is silent. cutlery placed firmly on the table, untouched as all the boys comprehend the situation they’re in
“we fucked up.”
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scarfacemarston · 2 days
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Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot
For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.
"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"
"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"
"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.
“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End
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drudyslut · 3 days
Text
Office Hours — R.C
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request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)
CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.
likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3
note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞
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Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.
It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.
So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.
“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”
You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.
You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.
He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.
“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.
You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”
Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”
You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.
His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.
“Rafe, I need you.”
He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.
“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”
You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”
His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.
You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”
You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”
Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”
He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.
“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.
Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”
Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.
“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 
You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”
“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”
You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.
“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”
Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.
He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”
You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.
He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.
“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”
A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.
“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”
A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.
Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.
“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”
You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.
He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”
He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.
Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”
He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”
Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”
The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”
Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”
That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.
He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”
“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”
Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.
“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.
Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.
You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.
He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.
Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”
You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.
You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.
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luveline · 2 days
Note
i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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ncis-nerd · 1 day
Text
Our Princess
princess reader x servants!wandanat
warnings: cheating, pevert wandanat, jealousy, innocence kink, smut, pet names, slight non-con, dubious consent, oral (r receiving), dom!wandanat.
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marvel masterlist
They knew what they were doing from the first moment they laid eyes on you. Fuck you were so perfect, the way your eyes widen when you giggled. How your dress rode up when you were watching TV. How innocent you were.
Your first interaction was when the two ladies were cleaning up. Wanda was washing the dishes in the kitchen with her apron on, Natasha sweeping the floors. That's when you wandered in, barefooted in a pink nightgown.
"Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you guys!" you exclaimed, backing out of the kitchen. Natasha shot Wanda a smirk. Wanda met her gaze, they both were thinking the same thing- how fun messing with you would be.
Wanda bowed in your presence, "Don't mind us, princess." She purred. You, oblivious to their tactics, hummed in response. Making your way to a cabinet that was a bit too high for you. You stood on your tippy toes, your hand attempting to grasp the handle. In the process, your nightgown begins to ride up, giving the two women a view of your flowery underwear.
Fuck you looked so good like that, Natasha bit her lip. Wanda smacked Nat's arm, you were dating Maria and were their boss. You could ruin their lives with the flick of the wrist. But you were so addicting, they couldn't resist.
From that moment on, they'd try everything to be in your path but you suspected nothing. They were just trying their jobs, that's why you caught Wanda folding your underwear and Natasha sweeping the living room floor while you were trying to watch TV.
---
You hummed, reading a book in your little sundress. You were tanning in your backyard by the pool. Maria, your girlfriend, was coming over to hang out with you. The sun was particularly hot today so you figured why not spend the day outside.
You had sunglasses on, that protected your eyes and a towel draped over your chair. You couldn't wait to play with her in the pool. Maria is your girlfriend and she's the same age as you. You guys went to school together and Maria admitted her love for you so the logical thing to do was to get together. At first you were hesitant but not for the reasons Maria thought. No, it wasn't internal homophobia, it was the fact that you hadn't been with anyone before. But Maria didn't mind your lack of experience.
"Hey hun, your girlfriend is here." Natasha spoke, ratherly harshly but nonetheless drawing your attention. Wonder what must of gotten her upset.. Your eyes followed her as she went back into the house. The door opened behind her, your girlfriend came out.
"Mar!!!" You squealed, running into her arms. She smiled and picked you up, "Hey princess!!" She chuckled, carrying you bridal style, to the seats. "Missed you" you mumbled in her arms.
--
Wanda and Natasha watched from the windows. A feeling of jealousy sprang from this. It should be them out there with you. For you to run into Wanda's arms and Natasha to be the one carrying you.
For it to be their bodies against you, not that girl who couldn't care for you like they did. You needed real women to teach a delicate thing like you.
Natasha bit her lip as she watched Maria's hand rest on your ass. The way a innocent kiss from you, turned into Maria climbing onto of you. She began to leave kisses on your skin, marking you up. Maria looked up for a second, making eye contact with the two servants. She knew they were watching and was testing them. Daring them to try and stop this, to try and take her girl.
--
You whimpered softly, you couldn't believe this was happening. Maria straddled you and began to bite and suck on your skin, leaving hickeys all over you. "Mar, that hurts" you mumbled against her. "Let me have my way with you doll, I promise you'll be satisfied by the end." She pushed,
The two women watched this interaction and saw it unfold. The way you were pushing back against Maria, how she ignored your protests and just dismissed you. They had enough.
"Maria your parents called, they said it was an emgerncy and they need you home" Wanda spoke. Maria jumped off of y/n and hurried out after giving her a little peck on the forehead and a quick "goodbye".
--
After a moment of silence, Wanda made her way to you. You were sitting on the chair, your chest covered in marks from your girlfriend. A slight pout on your face. "What's the matter, dear?" Wanda cooed, Natasha coming up behind you with the same faux concern. "Yeah darling, what's got you all frowny? Hm?" Natasha hummed.
"Maria" you mumbled sadly, you didn't know why your girlfriend was suddenly acting like that. She said she'd take things slowly for you, but maybe it was going too slow for her liking.
"Awe, princess." Wanda whispered, stroking your back gently. "You know honey, we saw what happened. I think the problem is that you are such a delicate thing and your girlfriend doesn't understand that. A little thing liek you needs a real, mature woman fo help you navigate." She purred.
--
"I think she might be ready for us Wanda, this seems like the perfect timing." Natasha whispered in the hall, trying not to let you hear the conversation between the two of them. "I don't know Nat, she seems like she isn't interested. You saw how things went down with Maria. A simple kiss turned her off." Wanda protested.
--
Your face turned red, you were still thinking about what Natasha said earlier. How they'd treat you right, that you needed a mature woman teach you.
You began to feel an ache between your thighs. It was so wet and sticky, you didn't know what to do, so the only logical thing to do was to go ask the pair.
Your pillow bumps your clit as you make your way off your bed. You jolt in response, that feels weird but a good kind of weird. You attempt to gain that feeling back, of course not knowing what you're doing due to a lack of experience. Your hips rut against your pillow. You sigh gently, biting your lip to stiffle any sounds. A moan escapes your lips when suddenly you hear a voice hum in amusement.
You turn around to be greeted with Natasha's eyes which focused on the wet spot of your pillow and Wanda who was only smirking at you. Her eyes on your chest. Your nipples were hard and peeked through your thin tank top.
"H-How long have you been standing there?” you froze.
--
"Mhm" you cried out. Fuck, you looked so good like this, they just wanted to take you but they restricted themselves. A fragile little thing like you needs to be treated like a princess. Natasha's tongue circled your clit, your hips buckled against her. "She's so responsive." Natasha mumbled against you, the comment directed towards the other servant.
Wanda had you against her, your back to her front. She held your hips in place for Natasha. "There, there, it's okay princess. If it's too much just let me or Natty know" She whispered softly.
inspired by @esouliie
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
Text
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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "SAW UR POST AND HEAR U WANTED REQUESTS!!! paige x gf!reader where reader is uconns wbb media girl and it is SMUTT, paige like reading reader ab like “did u enjoy taking pics of me out there” BUT SMUT WHERE READER ALSO GIVES BACK TO PAIGE BC WHY R ALL THE FICS ENDING AFTER READER COMES? WHERES PAIGE??? (i’m going insane)"
─ word count | 2k
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! praise (lots of it), so much sweet tension, fingering, face-sitting (hooray!), paige being a cocky ass, teasing, just MENTION of a strap
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | this is my first time writing wlw smut so if yall have any feedback, it'd be greatly appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope yall enjoy mwah
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"WE'D LOVE TO STAY BUT..." Paige shrugged, a cocky smile playing on her lips as her hand found the small of your back, beginning to lead you to the door.
As Paige's hand settled on the small of your back, her touch sent a shiver down your spine, her cocky smile igniting a fire within you.
KK and Ice exchanged looks, smirks playing on their lips. The game had went very well, winning 72-64. You'd gotten some pretty good pictures of the team as you usually do, but your focus was merely just on your girlfriend this time. You couldn't help but feel proud, especially with the shots you managed to capture of the team in action.
But right now, your attention was solely on Paige, her presence captivating you more than anything else. The thrill of victory mingled with the excitement of being with her, making the moment feel all the more exhilarating.
"Make sure to use protection!" You heard KK shout as you closed the door behind you, hearing the now muffled laughter of Paige's teammates' laughter.
You rolled your eyes playfully at KK's innuendo but she wasn't very far off. You didn't miss the way Paige wet his lips as she pulled you closer into her chest as you both began to walk to her car, leaving the restaurant the team decided to celebrate in.
Paige's fingers interlaced with yours, her touch sending shivers down your spine as you savored the closeness between you. As you reached her car, Paige turned to face you, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in close and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.
You couldn't help but lean closer, letting her take complete control over the kiss. But before it could lean to anything, Paige leaned away as your lips formed a pout.
Paige laughed at your neediness as she gripped your hand. She leaned in once more, her lips brushing against yours in a teasing caress.
But before the kiss could deepen, she pulled back, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're too cute when you pout," she teased, her voice laced with affection as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.
"You looked good tonight," you spoke softly as you looked up at your girlfriend. "Like, really good."
Paige's smirk softened into a warm smile at your compliment, her eyes sparkling with appreciation as she gazed into yours.
"Thank you, baby," she replied, her voice soft as she brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. "You looked sexy, with your little camera."
You rolled your eyes playfully averted your gaze as she laughed, before she gripped your face to get you to look at her. "That's the only word I could think of, sorry."
"Really? Not beautiful, pretty, gorgeous?" You teased as she let go of your face with a huff.
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," she teased, her fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline.
But before you could respond, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours in a needy kiss. "You're all of those things and more," she whispered against your lips.
A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you returned her kiss, reveling in the warmth of her touch. "Can we go home, please?"
"Of course, baby," she whispered, your voice barely above a breath as she reluctantly pulled away, the need to be close to you urging you forward.
With a shared smile, you both settled into the car, the engine humming to life beneath you as Paige drove off into the night. As you headed home together, hands intertwined, you felt your heart begin to race.
The drive felt longer than it should have, every squeeze of your hand making you feel more desperate. And Paige could tell but she didn't give you anything except the occasional rub of the hand, which made you go insane.
With one hand on the wheel and the other clasped firmly in yours, Paige drove with practiced ease, her confidence making you feel something only she could ever manage to do.
With a knowing glance, Paige turned onto your street and parked as quickly as she could. As Paige cut the engine, the silence that followed seemed to stretch on indefinitely, each breath heavy with anticipation.
Neither of you wasted any time as she guided you up the stairs of your apartment, giving your hip the occasional squeeze. The walk up the stairs felt like a blur, her touch sent sparks flying through your body. With each squeeze of your hip, Paige wordlessly conveyed her desire, her eagerness matching your own as you walked to your apartment door.
As you reached your apartment door, Paige wasted no time in unlocking it, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness of the hallway. With a shared glance, you both stepped inside, the warmth of the familiar space enveloping you like a comforting embrace.
The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a sense of desire. Without a word, Paige closed the distance between you, her hands finding their way to your hips as she pulled you close.
The heat of her body against yours was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. With a hunger that couldn't be denied, she responded in kind as your lips crashing together in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.
"I know I already said it, but you looked so good." Your hands found her hair as she planted messy kisses all over your neck and jaw, her grip tight on your hip.
The sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing moment. With a soft chuckle, Paige finally pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a glint of desire.
"I'm glad you think so," she murmured, her voice husky with desire as she pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. "But you, baby, you're on whole different playing field."
She gave your lips one more kiss before she guided you to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Paige sat on the bed as she pulled you into her lap, as your lips crashed into hers. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap, soft whimpers leaving your lips.
But Paige didn't give in, she just smirked against your lips as she held your hips. "Relax, baby."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Shut up,"
Paige's eyes widen, a smirk on her lips as she gave your hip a harsh squeeze. "You really wanna talk to me like that?"
"Maybe I do," you retorted, your voice laced with playful defiance as you leaned in closer to her.
She then pushed you off of her as you scoffed, disbelief in your expression. You almost began to complain before she gripped your arms and pushed you on the bed, a soft moan leaving your mouth at the roughness.
She practically ripped your shorts off as she got on top of you, the cocky expression still evident on her face. Paige's lips found your neck as she began to give you wet kisses all over. Your eyes shut at the sensation, another quiet moan leaving your lips.
Her hands then moved the bottom of your shirt, taking it off as she began rubbing your hips. She sat up to take in your body, a prideful smirk on her mouth she squeezed your hips tighter. You felt yourself get red at her gaze, especially since you were half-naked and she was fully clothed.
"Poor baby," she whispered as she leaned and gave you kisses at the crook of your neck, your eyes shutting in pleasure as you became grinding against her hips.
Paige gripped your thighs and pried them open as she began rubbing your cunt through your underwear. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do I make you that needy, huh, pretty girl?"
Her filthy words sounded like music to your ears as you moaned in affirmation, not trusting your voice to speak up. She then moved your underwear to the side, her middle finger finding your clit as she began rubbing it harshly.
The new sensation made your back arch into her hands, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. "Oh, fuck,"
"Yeah, pretty girl? I make you feel so good, don't I, baby?" Her words came out soft like honey as she applied more pressure to your clit, more needy moans coming out of your mouth.
It was embarrassing how quickly that knot in your stomach began tighten, how it'd only been a minute since she'd started and you already felt yourself come close to the edge.
And of course, Paige could tell. Her movements didn't falter as you came undone, the knot in your stomach snapping as you let out a cry of pleasure that echoed in between the walls of your bedroom.
You were breathless as Paige shoved her fingers into your mouth, and you sucked them clean. She smiled as she pried her hands away, replacing them with her lips.
Paige could taste you on your tongue, making her moan. She pulled away and began to move off of you before you gripped her hand, neediness evident in your tone. "I need you, please. Let me make you feel good."
Paige's smirk widen at your request, climbing back on top of you. "Mm, you sure?"
"Yes, baby. Please." You whined as Paige looked down at you, uncertainty in her gaze before she saw the desperation on your face. She smiled softly at you before she took off her shorts and underwear, throwing them off to the ground.
You were practically drooling at the sight of her, all of her. Your hands found her thighs as you pulled her on top of of your face and before she could even process it, your lips were in her cunt.
"Oh, fuck." Was all she could get out as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. God, your mouth felt so good she couldn't help but behind to grind against your mouth.
She moved her gaze to look at you, her hands finding your hair as she began to run her fingers through your hair. She felt her breath hitch as you began focusing on her clit, her head falling back in pleasure.
"Good girl, fuck." She groaned out as your hands moved moved to rub her hips. Her other hand met yours, holding it as she began grinding faster against you. "Yes, baby. Keep going, oh yeah."
Your tongue moved faster against her and she felt herself coming closer and closer to the edge. "Just like that, just like that. Fuck."
Her grip tightened on your hair as she came, her moan filling your ears. She was breathless, trying to catch her breath as she finally opened her eyes to meet your cocky smirk.
She let out a breathless chuckle as she rolled her eyes, getting off your face. "You should do that more often."
"You should let me do that more often," you countered as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
Paige laid down on the bed, her chest still heaving as she kept her gaze solely on you. "I just don't wanna like, suffocate you."
"That would be a good way to go, though. And I know you like it," you smiled as she pat the spot next to her. You shuffled next to her, moving your head to lay on her chest.
"You're right, I like having that much control over you." She joked as she pulled you closer. "It's hot."
"You're hot," you replied with a playful grin, your voice laced with admiration as you leaned in to steal another kiss from Paige's lips.
"You're hotter," Paige countered as she pulled away from the kiss for a moment.
"You're the hottest,"
Paige scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "We really gonna play this game right now, baby?"
"Yep, whoever wins gets to the wear the strap."
Paige's expression shifted as she glared down at you. "You mean my dick? Yeah, um no."
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faetreides · 3 days
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Art seems like such a sub, like he’d be so down pathetic when he sits between your legs, back to your chest while you give him an hj. He whimpers while you whisper dirty things in his ear and shakes more with each pump OOH I NEED HOLY WATER 😭
he gives switch vibes with a sub lean for suuuuuuure 😮‍💨
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cw: 18+ mdni, handjob, sub!art, set more in the college era, reader’s a switch too btw but art makes them feral, very loving tho, taking care of him after a tough practice, afab reader
“That’s it, just lie back on me. You must be feeling so sore.” You coo, caressing his biceps and getting into position on his bed.
You recline against the wall and open your legs. Art can’t hide the way his eyes light up as he eases onto the bed and swiftly turns around, resting his back against your chest with a soft sigh. You pick up on the groan he attempts to stifle in his palm, knowing how his muscles be absolutely aching right now.
It’s a big deal for you to show that you support him by showing up to his games and practices, so that’s what you doing earlier. You’ve always admired his determination when it comes to tennis, so you don’t mention that losing a college game isn’t the end of the world. Still, you won’t deprive yourself of the eye candy that comes in the form of your boyfriend sweating and grunting as he practices his drills.
Once it was over, he bounded over to you with a tired grin and jokingly pushed your face away when you tried to kiss him. “Angel, i’m all gross now.” He’d laugh, and you’d shut him up by licking some of the sweat of his cheek.
“Did I do good today?” He asks and looks up at you with his big eyes.
You’ll never not be grateful that he seeks out your approval like a dog with a bone, because you’ve never been so proud of someone in your entire life.
“You always do the best, babe.”
Art blushes and tilts his head back onto your shoulder. And for a cliché moment time stand still, the sunset outside casts an orange glow over the room and the two of you. Your boyfriend looks beautiful like this, eyes shut in exhaustion and nestled in your arms.
But you have other plans for the evening than just admiring your boyfriend, there will be plenty of that later during pillow talk.
Art cracks his eyes to see your hands trail down his arms to end up at his crotch. He’s so relaxed that he doesn’t squirm as much as he usually does, but he turns his head to nuzzle your shoulder.
You soothingly murmur to him, “My boy worked so hard today, i think he deserves a reward, don’t you?”
“I want whatever you have to give me.” He genuinely smiles into your skin, shifting his hips to push up against you palming his bulge.
And it’s true, he’d throw his head back like a whore and moan unabashedly no matter if you were edging him with a vibrator of if you were gently grinding your fat ass against his dripping cock.
You teasingly squeeze his clothed bulge and then dip your fingers under the waistband of his white boxer briefs. Thank god for the fact that Art likes to strip down as he soon as he gets back to his room after practice.
“Lift your hips for me, baby boy.” You tell him with a nip to his earlobe.
He sighs again as he gives you the suitable free space to push his underwear down enough to free his cock. It’s so long and pretty, such a good size too. Flushed blush pink at the tip and veiny, your mouth waters but giving your boyfriend head is a reward for a different day.
Art whines when you get your hands on his bare cock, “You know ‘m sensitive, feels so good already.”
“But your tears are so pretty when you’re overstimulated.” You peck his temple and lean your head on top of his, curling your hand around the base of his dick and steadily beginning to pump him. “You should be happy to cum as much as you want, sweets.”
He whimpers and spreads his legs over yours. You hook your feet around his and keep them there.
Pearls of precum bead to the tip of his cock, making the slide easier. You grip him tighter and move your wrist in quick circles as you speed up your thrusting.
“Oh- F-fuck!” He keens, latching onto your hips and arching his back against you.
“Shh, if you can’t handle this how are you supposed to handle my pussy? It’s so much tighter than my hand, baby, you’ve felt how warm and wet it is.”
He cums embarraingly quick when he gets like this, all doped up on how you make him melt. It’s adorable and a huge ego boost, but he can only cum inside you so much before he’s out like a light.
Art gasps at the mention of his treat, and awkwardly twists his torso around to face you, “I can handle it, can i have it now? Please please please please.”
“I don’t know…” You hum, pretending to consider his begging.
You clasp your fingers around his leaking dick and thumb the tip, spreading the precum. You fuck his length with your fist and you’re going so fast, you’re making a ‘thwop! thwop! thwop!’ sound.
“I think I want you to cum just like this, love.”
Art keens as you furiously jack him off. You rile him up by whispering in his ear.
“Got me so hot watching you today. Seeing the sweat on your body when you pulled up your shirt to wipe your face, i wanted to ride you into the ground.”
Art gapes, trying to kick his legs out on reflex but your ankles over his keep him right where you want him. He screws his eyes shut tightly and moans in between his babbling.
“Unh- unh- ‘s so good, gonna cum, can i cum? Please say i can cum, ‘m gonna burst- FUCK!”
You don’t know who’s crying more, Art or his cock. He’s leaking so much that you had to concentrate or you’ll lose your grip.
You don’t let up until he’s heaving a strangled cry and shooting his hips up, spilling on and over your hand like a fountain. He gets so sloppy with it, fucking himself with your fist through the aftershocks.
“That’s it, such a big load for me. I bet you were aching holding all that in, baby.”
And he’s so gorgeous, mouth open wide and tugging on his hair in random intervals. You grab his face with your free head and rub your thumb over his cheek. You let him come down at his own pace, and when he focuses his pretty eyes back on you, you bring your sticky hand to his mouth.
Art cleans his own mess, maintaining eye contact with you. The fierce tomato red blush he’s sporting deepens. You wink at him and slurp up an equal amount of his cum, like a couple sharing a milkshake in an old fashion diner.
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rickybabyboy · 2 days
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[Begin ID: "Red and white tabby laying down and looking backwards" End ID]
could you tell that again i was thinking about wet food
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thankskenpenders · 3 days
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The Knuckles show
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The announcement of a live action Knuckles streaming miniseries was surprising, to say the least. I mean, what would such a show even be about in a version of the Sonic universe with no Angel Island and barely any characters from the games around? Is he gonna go treasure hunting with the gang from Montana or something? Would a streaming miniseries have the CGI budget to squeeze in any new game characters, even briefly? Rouge? Amy? At least one member of Team Chaotix? Anyone?
Now the show is finally out, and it turns out what they actually made was a comedy show about bumbling deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, the minor comic relief character played by Adam Pally who you might not even remember all that well from the first two movies, with Knuckles as his sidekick. While, yes, Knuckles does get a decent amount of screentime and opportunities to punch bad guys and do cool moves from the games, large stretches of this show focus on Wade's personal life, to the point that a couple times I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic-related show. If you're judging it purely by the metric of how well it adapts and engages with its source material, this surely must be one of the worst adaptations the Sonic franchise has ever seen.
So then, despite some huge complaints... why do I kinda like it?
(This will contain full spoilers for the Knuckles show.)
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A brief summary of what the show is actually about because I know half of you aren't going to watch it
The show picks up not too long after the end of the second movie. Knuckles is now living in Montana with Sonic, Tails, and the Wachowskis out of a sense of debt to them, though he doesn't really see it as his home. He doesn't feel like he belongs on Earth, and his life currently lacks direction. After communing with the ghost of Pachacamac, though, Knuckles is instructed to keep his culture alive by teaching "the ways of the echidna warrior" to a new apprentice: deputy sheriff Wade Whipple, who's currently more concerned about winning a bowling tournament in Reno than anything else.
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Things are complicated by the interference of two rogue GUN agents - Agent Willoughby, played by Ellie Taylor in a bad wig, and Agent Mason, played by Kid Cudi. (Yes, the artist behind the second movie's credits song is one of the bad guys in this.) They want to steal Knuckles' power and sell it to a former associate of Robotnik's played by Rory McCann (The Hound from Game of Thrones), who now works as a black market arms dealer. Yes, they're still doing the thing where Sonic and friends' quills radiate some kind of super-energy that the bad guys all want. No, I don't particularly love this element of the Paramount Sonic continuity. Anyway, they go after Knuckles and Wade, complicating their straightforward road trip to Reno. Antics ensue.
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The Wade show
So here's the thing. While the first episode focuses largely on Knuckles, the entire rest of the show is very much the story of Wade, and by extension the other original human characters invented for this miniseries.
Episode 2 is about Wade having to rescue Knuckles from captivity after the GUN agents get him. Knuckles spends most of the episode in a cage.
Episode 3 is about introducing Wade's Jewish family, including his slightly overbearing mother and weird sister, so that Knuckles can learn about their family traditions and have Shabbat dinner with them (and then save them from bounty hunters that the GUN agents hired).
Episode 4 only features Knuckles at the very beginning and very end of the episode, probably for less than a minute total. Wade is captured by a bounty hunter he personally knows, and Knuckles decides to let that be a trial for Wade to overcome on his own.
The last two episodes feature the climactic showdowns with the GUN agents and their arms-dealing ally, who comes in with a mech for the obligatory final boss fight. You'd think this would be Knuckles' time to shine, but really, these episodes are mostly about the bowling tournament in Reno where Wade encounters his estranged father, wrapping up his own personal arc. While Knuckles does get some fights, a lot of the finale is spent on lengthy bowling scenes where Knuckles isn't in the room or even mentioned. It frequently feels more like a spiritual successor to '00s sports comedy movies like Dodgeball, Talladega Nights, or Blades of Glory than it does a part of the Sonic franchise, and the presence of ESPN 8: The Ocho commentary in the finale only drives those Dodgeball comparisons home. They get so immersed in the bowling stuff that it's genuinely hilarious when the show suddenly pivots and remembers "oh shit we still need to do the final boss fight"
Throughout all this, Wade is the protagonist. He's the character we spend more time with, he's the character who drives most of the major events, he's the character who gets more of an arc. The emotional core is Wade's journey. Knuckles is still present - sometimes, at least - but he's there as Wade's wingman, and also just as the excuse for there to be some fight scenes.
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How much Sonic stuff is actually in this show?
Honestly? Not much.
Sonic and Tails are only in the first episode. Sonic gets some good scenes, but Tails gets a grand total of five lines. I counted. Unsurprisingly, Jim Carrey is absent as Robotnik, though he does get mentioned a fair bit. (For that matter, basically the entire established human cast beyond Wade is absent, even including Tom, though Maddie is there in episode one.)
GUN is involved in the story, which helps it feel slightly more connected to Sonic, but it kind of feels like it's GUN in name only. They don't use any recognizable GUN tech, and they don't call in the military. It's just two agents in suits. They might as well be the Men in Black.
The Master Emerald is mentioned as something Knuckles has to guard, but it's never seen. Angel Island is pictured as a drawing during the show's intro, appearing exactly how it does in Sonic 3, but it's never referenced at all beyond that.
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I guess the climax taking place in and around a Reno casino is a reference to Sonic's many casino-themed levels. That's something. I'll give them that.
Oh, and if you're wondering if this is the point where we finally start to get actual music from the games: no, it's not. The soundtrack consists of a lot of '80s needle drops, many of which are generic Hollywood picks like "Holding Out for a Hero" for the billionth time, thought it at least has some slightly less obvious picks than the Mario movie. The theme song is '80s rock song "The Warrior" by Scandal. You'll hear it many times. You'll hear the Adventure era Knuckles raps zero times in this. You'll briefly hear classic A Tribe Called Quest song "Can I Kick It?" before Knuckles takes the question too literally and breaks the radio in Wade's car.
Beyond a handful of surface level references for nerds (one of which is admittedly wild - we'll get to that), this is probably the least an officially licensed adaptation of Sonic the Hedgehog has ever tried to actually engage with its source material. I struggle to think of another Sonic adaptation that has less to do with Sonic. For as much shit as I and countless others have given Penders for seemingly ignoring the content of the games in favor of building his own convoluted mythos, his Knuckles comics honestly included way more elements from the games than this show does.
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Somehow, the one new(-ish) Sonic character introduced in this is the ghost of Pachacamac of all characters. Not even Tikal! Pachacamac! A very minor character nobody has particularly strong feelings about! You can't even use the excuse that they already had the character model, because they completely redesigned him compared to his cameo in the first movie to better match his Sonic Adventure design. And he's voiced by Christopher Lloyd! Honestly, so many of his lines are strained that it sounds like he's on death's door here, but then he'll surprise you with a more casual line like "just do it, man" and it catches me so off guard that I can't help but laugh.
Pachacamac here has basically nothing to do with the game character he takes his name and appearance from. Where the game character was a cruel warlord who kicked off a 3000 year cycle of violence, Paramount Pachacamac is now just this chill old man who gives Knuckles (and later Wade) advice in two episodes of the show. Hell, he also feels completely disconnected from his established role in the movies, where he's literally the guy who shot Longclaw. The show will not grapple with this contradiction at all. He's just here to be a thing fans like me will recognize from the games. Again, if that's all they wanted, it's kind of baffling that they didn't just use Tikal.
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I don't love Knuckles in this
But what about Knuckles himself? Well, he doesn't feel all that much like Knuckles to me. Ironically, he sometimes feels like one of the weaker elements in his own show.
Back when the second movie came out, I noted that Knuckles' characterization seemed to be pulling heavily from MCU Thor as a gallant warrior from an archaic alien culture who doesn't really understand modern day Earth stuff. That worked for me in that movie. It was just there for spice. Just a little extra flavor for the character in what was otherwise a very faithful adaptation of Knuckles' storyline in Sonic 3 & Knuckles. Without those familiar elements grounding him and with a much higher reliance on comedy, Idris Elba's Knuckles becomes a pretty one-note character in this.
In damn near every scene with Knuckles, he's going to say something about being a proud, honorable echidna warrior, or brag about his glorious feats of strength, or be confused about some Earth thing and call it sorcery, or act like every other character is also a member of some noble warrior clan. He still has his moments for sure, but this schtick kinda gets old fast, and it just doesn't feel like Knuckles to me. His entire character feels derived from the scene in the diner where Thor smashes the cup on the ground and goes "Another!" Sure, I can picture game Knuckles smashing a radio to turn it off and being a little too gung-ho about busting holes through walls. That's Knuckles behavior. But building a barbarian combat pit in the living room so the Wachowski family dog can fight the mailman? Nope. That's some other guy now. It really does just feel like them taking a broad character archetype from something popular that kinda sorta fits Knuckles and just running with that, rather than trying to actually adapt the character.
Oh, but don't worry, he wears the OVA hat for like two minutes! AND he loves grapes! See, Sonic nerds? We read the wiki! That's his favorite food! Grapes! This is gonna come up like five times!
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Knuckles kind of gets an arc here, but not as much as Wade does. I think the stuff about him starting to feel at home on Earth thanks to Wade's mom and the way he connects with their Jewish family traditions is oddly sweet. This arc is kind of let down, though, by the fact that Knuckles' heritage is treated as a complete joke. He's a cartoonish pastiche of various historical warrior cultures stuck together in a blender and used mostly for comedic effect. When Pachacamac's ghost appears, he's reading a newspaper and bemoaning the fact that the Mets lost again. This is not the place for a serious examination of Knuckles' feelings on being the last of his kind.
This is far from the only time the show undercuts itself with its jokes and attempts at self-parody. In the first episode, for instance, Knuckles clashes with GUN Agent Mason and his tech-enhanced punches, leading to an extremely on-the-nose inversion of the "Do I look like I need your power?" scene showcased in the trailer for the second movie. Except this time, Agent Willoughby butts in and points out how stupid that line is in this new context, since they're literally trying to steal Knuckles' power. The fight can't just be cool, they have to get cute with it. A lot of stuff like that happens in this show.
Given all these complaints, the first two episodes left me thinking I'd be fairly negative on this show overall. This seemed like the version of the show from the fandom's collective nightmares, one that undoes all of the progress the movie series seemed to have been making towards faithfulness to the games. Like, just look at these cast posters. Is this what you want out of Sonic? Do these excite you?
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But then, something strange happened. Over time, I just kind of let the jokes and shenanigans wash over me and basked in how fucking weird this show is.
And I started to actually enjoy it.
Look. The Wade & Knuckles Show was never going to be peak Sonic. But that sure as hell doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.
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This show is so fucking goofy
Here's the thing.
The show is funny.
Unlike a lot of other people, I didn't hate all the wedding stuff in Hawaii in Sonic 2, because I thought a lot of it was funny, both in its actual jokes and in the ways in which they tied everything back to Sonic. Tom looking wistfully at some bodybuilders doing Top Gun shit and spraying each other with beer and being like "I wish Sonic had that" is weirdly funny. The twist that those muscle bros are all agents of the newly formed GUN, who orchestrated the wedding as an elaborate scheme to catch Sonic, is funny. Mr. Olive Garden becoming the fucking GUN Commander is VERY funny. Are any of these elements of my dream Sonic movie? No, of course not. But my dream Sonic movie was never gonna happen in live action.
The Knuckles show follows up on the comedy of the previous films by being probably the funniest live action Sonic release yet. Did every joke land for me? God no. There are some stinkers in there that made me roll my eyes. But enough of them landed that it worked out for me overall. A big part of this is the fact that they've got a good cast of actors and/or comedians here.
Adam Pally is funny as Wade, and I found myself liking him more and more as a character as the show went on. He becomes an oddly endearing loser, with some sweet moments in his personal arc that made me feel for the guy. I like Wade more than Tom now, thanks to this show. I will now be happier to see Wade in Sonic 3 than I would have been previously.
The supporting cast is frequently great, too, many of whom are playing completely cartoonish, over-the-top characters. They took a cue from how exaggerated Carrey's performance was as Robotnik and decided to just abandon all pretense that this is the real world. Stockard Channing as Wade's mom is funny, and carries some of the more sincere parts of the show. Cary Elwes as Wade's very British dad who abandoned him as a child to run off and be the world's most egotistical professional bowler is funny. Edi Patterson as Wade's sister Wanda is... well, she's kinda trying too hard, but she has her moments. The Mighty Boosh co-creator Julian Barratt(!!) as a scenery-chewing bounty hunter, who was also somehow Wade's former best friend and bowling partner, is VERY funny. I love this guy.
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(Honestly, they should let more people who were on Garth Marenghi's Darkplace be in Sonic stuff. Where's Matt Berry)
This is kind of a stacked cast for a bunch of stupid side characters in a live action Knuckles show! And honestly, that just makes it funnier to me. Even when they're not funny, the fact that this exists makes it funny. They somehow convinced Paramount to give them a bunch of money to make a spiritual successor to Dodgeball about a schlubby guy who wants to beat his dad at a bowling tournament... except also Knuckles the fucking Echidna is there as his personal life coach. My life is richer for the fact that I can say that sentence. I think about all the little kids who are probably watching this show this weekend, going in expecting a show about Knuckles the Echidna and having to sit through extensive bowling scenes and lore about Wade's family, and sorry kids, but I just have to laugh. Wade isn't even on the poster! The poster is just a picture of Knuckles!! They punked those kids!!!
In a franchise where every single aspect is so carefully micromanaged these days, it feels truly special to get an adaptation this bonkers. It frequently appeals to the same part of me that enjoys the fact that there's an officially licensed Knuckles comic in which Charmy Bee's best friend (also a bee) dies of an accidental LSD overdose from a drug-laced chili dog. Or like, everything about the original 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie. Or the fact that they made seven direct-to-DVD sequels to Alpha and Omega, one of which is half a retread of the adventure from the first movie (with more annoying supporting characters in tow this time) and half a literal clip show of the first movie. The sheer absurdity of the fact that these things exist is charming to me. Except, with the Knuckles show, it has the added benefit of frequently being funny on purpose! This is why I'm not sure I'd call it "so bad it's good." Like, it's not amazing, but there were a lot of parts that I enjoyed in the exact way I was supposed to enjoy them.
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Look. Here's a list of real lines of dialogue from the Sega-approved Knuckles the Echidna streaming show that they're billing as a pillar of the Paramount+ lineup, to drive this point home. Let these marinate for a minute:
"I only eat grapes, and Cool Ranch Doritos™."
"Annihilate this little girl, Wade. Crush her spirit. Humiliate her so badly her parents won't even look at her again." "Doesn't that seem like we're going a bit far?" "Not far enough."
"So is he Jewish?" "Half, I think."
"I had a friend who when he listened to Alien Ant Farm he could lift a Toyota Corolla over his head."
"I'm in dire financial straits. Due to my lawsuit against an unnamed rainforest-themed restaurant franchise, I don't have two pennies to my name."
"We're here in sunny Reno, Nevada, which is so close to Hell you can smell the sparks."
"You can't threaten me with your Jewish karate chops because I am a federal agent."
"I will say, regardless of how you feel about child abandonment - and I'm against it! - the deals at TJ Maxx can't be beat."
This is a Sonic show in which they got Paul Scheer and Rob Huebel to appear as ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators.
This is a show where Wade's mom insists upon pronouncing "Knuckles" with the throaty Hebrew "ch" sound, and declares that Knuckles is basically Jewish. Later, they watch Pretty Woman together while enjoying a nice slice of key lime pie. Knuckles comments: "I don't understand. This young streetwalker with a heart made of gold, why do the others treat her with such disdain? Is it so wrong to walk the streets?"
This is a show where the fourth episode is directed by one of the guys from The Lonely Island and features a hallucinatory low budget rock opera stage musical put on by the ghost of Pachacamac. It recounts Knuckles' life story, with Wade playing Knuckles and the "evil" Longclaw played by the bounty hunter guy who's played by the Mighty Boosh guy.
Look at this.
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And also, Knuckles' singing voice is provided by Michael Bolton, which they proudly announce in the middle of the musical.
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And also...
Also...???
IBLIS IS IN IT????????????
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Yes, Iblis!
From Sonic '06!!
Knuckles is said to have looked for a mythical power called the "Flames of Disaster" to avenge his clan, which ended up being the power that was within him all along that lets him do fire punches yadda yadda yadda. As part of this, he apparently fought Iblis off-screen at some point, as conveyed with the giant singing papier-mâché Iblis in the musical.
...Then Iblis sings about hitting up Facebook Marketplace
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How? How does any of this exist? Why reference '06 of all games? How did Iblis get into the live action Sonic movie universe before Amy and Metal Sonic? Why are they using Iblis and the term "Flames of Disaster" in such a goofy way that completely disregards their original context?
I don't know. I don't know how any of this happened. But I love it. We got a Knuckles miniseries in which Michael Bolton sings the phrase "the Flames of Disaster." The world is a beautiful place sometimes.
Some people will tell you to skip episode four. "Knuckles is barely even in it," they say. "It's dumb and pointless," they say. "They clearly just ran out of special effects budget," they say. These are people whose opinions you should disregard. The episode with the least Knuckles in it is somehow the most entertaining episode of the show. I would, in fact, go as far as to say that if you only decide to watch one episode of the Knuckles show to see what goofy bullshit they get up to, it should be this one.
I cannot be mad at this show. It's so dumb, but it completely owns the fact that it's a dumb and unnecessary spinoff. Inferiority is baked into its very DNA. It's very self-consciously redoing the premise of the first movie, but stupider. It's about The Other Cop from the movies, instead of the competent one. Instead of being into a "cooler" sport, his life revolves around professional bowling. Instead of going to Vegas, he goes to Reno. Even his tragic backstory that shaped his entire life sucks. He was abandoned by his pro bowler dad in a TJ Maxx. Not even a nicer department store. A fucking TJ Maxx. This whole show is a Dril tweet.
They put a ton of effort into making it dumb in an occasionally spectacular way. So much effort was put into that joke rock opera that fans will just write off as stupid filler. They put their whole pussies into it. This is not a poorly made show. This has better production values than half the shit made for Disney+. This was made with love. Maybe not as much love for the Sonic the Hedgehog series of video games as we'd like, but it's love nonetheless.
Maybe this show broke me and these are the ramblings of a madwoman. Maybe I'm just really nostalgic for the '90s and '00s comedy movies all the Wade stuff is modeled after. Maybe the Alan Wake fan in me just really loves it when a story pivots to a silly rock opera for no real reason. I won't discount any of these possibilities. This isn't high art. This isn't something I would recommend to anyone with zero interest in Sonic, and it also isn't going to sway Sonic fans who hate the Paramount universe. I really can't blame them for being bewildered by this show. But for a specific type of person, this is the absurd three-star Sonic-adjacent comedy miniseries of your dreams. It's a mid masterpiece.
Again, I just have to step back, realize the fact that this shouldn't exist, and smile. Sega's too afraid to do stupid bullshit with the franchise like this these days. And I can't blame them, after years of Sonic being a treated as a laughingstock. But part of me misses some of the goofy shit. No matter how much I tore some of the Archie comics apart as I was reading them for this blog, I just look back on stuff like Cal and Al or the Many Hands issues and laugh. And that same part of me looks at this show about Knuckles being the sidekick to this fucking guy, and just goes...
"We're so back."
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In conclusion, I genuinely think this was a more enjoyable TV show than Sonic Prime.
I wouldn't go back and rewatch Sonic Prime anytime soon, aside from maybe, like, a couple of the Shadow-heavy episodes. Huge stretches of that show bored me to tears. The writers squandered all of that show's potential. But I would rewatch the Knuckles show, which takes a terrible premise and has a lot of fun with it, in a heartbeat. Even the bowling parts. The bowling scenes in the Knuckles show are more engaging than 70% of the fights in Sonic Prime. I am not trolling. I mean that sincerely, with all my heart. Don't @ me.
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Stray observations
There is effectively zero meaningful setup for the third movie in this, unless Wade's family or the two GUN agents come back or something. Project Shadow is not mentioned in this. There is no secret post-credits scene with Gerald
The CGI in this is pretty good. Not quite on par with the movies, but pretty good. Sonic's weird forehead wrinkles are distracting in his scenes though. Please fix that
I wouldn't say I liked this as much as the second movie, which obviously gets a ton of points for, you know. The Cool Sonic Shit. But I had more fun with it than the first movie, which I still feel is a painfully generic family movie that was only saved by Tyson's redesign
"Grapes are an interesting choice for someone who doesn't use his individual fingers."
Agent Willoughby was apparently the one at GUN who had to buy the Olive Garden gift cards and set up the fake wedding. Her origin story is that she hated doing shit like that and wanted to go fight aliens
This miniseries contains another Keanu namedrop because Wade's childhood bedroom has a Speed poster on the wall. I swear, if Sonic doesn't say Shadow sounds just like Keanu...
Knuckles is familiar with Paul Blart Mall Cop
Near the end the ESPN 8: The Ocho commentators say that the 1974 Reno bowling championship was also interrupted by an extraterrestrial, and given that was exactly 50 years ago I can't write off the possibility that that was Shadow. Please for the love of god give us a sequel series after the third movie where Wade takes Shadow the Hedgehog bowling. I need this more than I need air
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Alright so one of the DCxDP Aus:
It's vaugley inspired by another post I can't find where Amity jumps around the country and sometimes field trips turn into week long road trips. Only vague because I saw: Fentons make the school buses turn into alien invasion shelters and brain went burrrrrrrr.
Anyways, so Superman is fighting off against aliens who have kryptonite. He's trying his best but he's failing, he can't get up.
Meanwhile, a school bus full of kids are watching. Amity Park, after their own world nearly killed them all being led by the GIW who managed to convince everyone ghosts were evil, had displaced itself and now bounces around dimensions. Usually it stays for a week so it's safe enough for trips but this time it didn't. No big, Danny can sense a portal in a city called Gotham so they were on their way when BANG invasion.
Danny thinks it's fun and frankly so does everyone else but Lancer who is exhausted.
Then they see Superman being hurt and…
Danny’s Obsession is both Protection and Space. They know Superman is an alien. He is the Ghost King and the class has become his Fraid through time. They all feel the need to protect.
So they do.
Danny bursts out of the bus first as Phantom and starts blasting. Sam is next, vines erupting from the ground to grab and drag aliens away, one of which she drags to Tucker so he can steal their tech to start hacking. Paulina is out with teeth bared and breathing fire, scales appearing. Dash is using his enhanced strength as Kwan using his super speed. Other kids pour out fighting. Then Star shouts: “KRYPTONITE IS HARDENED ECTOPLASAM! WE CAN EAT IT!”
The kids start snatching and chowing down as other heroes arrive. There are no adverse affects so they let the kids have their fun as they help Superman stand up.
At the end of the invasion, Mr. Lancer (who had come out to with a Blastor in hand) sighed. “Is there paperwork? We were trying to get to a portal in Gotham.”
Que: What?
Danny: “Yeah our home town we had to displace from our him dimension after they wanted to experiment on all of us. Amity pops up in a lot of universes and it's fun!”
Star: “Sometimes our field trips end with us finding the nearest portal though. Danny can find them.”
This just gets questions but like, Lancer is filling out paperwork and the teens are chatting with heroes happily so it ends up they just kind of roll with it.
The conversations are weird though.
Danny: “Ranking for this world?”
Sam: “Top ten. Not higher then Faerun.”
Tucker: “You just liked how you got involved in that one cult and helped summon a Nature God to murder a bunch of polluters.”
Sam: “And?”
Paulina: “I like that one world where everyone had some sort of power. That Midoriya kid was cute. To bad we got caught before we could sneak him on the bus.”
Lancer: “No kidnapping anyone to Amity!”
Tucker: “I liked the time we ended up on that one planet- Palaven? That was fun.”
Danny: “Yeah it was!”
The kids move on and Batman escorts them to Gotham. The portal turns out to be the Lazarus Pit (oh joy) and then life moves on.
Until a month later when Flash sees the kids at a Museum and learns Amity Park came back. The city begins hanging around more and we discoverAmith likes this dimension. It eventually settles near Gotham and Metropolis. Sometimes it vanishes but it always returns.
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hoesformatt · 2 days
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THE HEAT
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matt smut, when i saw this photo of matt on chris’ story I ran to write this
dom!rough!matt • poc!reader friendly
contains: pet names, no use of y/n, established relationship, missionary, choking, dacryphilia, a bit of sadism
word count: 1.6k
summary: matt, chris and you watch the miami heat vs boston celtics game since matt and chris root for their hometown team, and you also do the same for the heats. The stakes get high during the game and your mouth begins to get smart so Matt decides to put you in your place
“You got the drinks?!” I yelled while collecting the snacks off the counter, bringing them to the living room. “Getting this ready for a fucking basketball game is pathetic, drinks, chips, candies?! You don’t need all of that shit." Nick protested against us watching the games because he wanted to watch Edward Scissors-Hands for the umpteenth time.
I jumped onto the couch beside my boyfriend, wearing the green Celtics jersey “We’re gonna beat Miami bad.” He flaunted his team, grabbing the bag of chips I set on the table. Chris crept up, placing three shot glasses and a Casamigos bottle on the table.
“Finally some Caso-freak-hoes, I’m tired of the Julio” Matt scoffed, playing around, looking like he was offended because his favourite drink to sip on was Don Julio.
“With every quarter, whoever is leading the losing team has to take a shot” Chris raised his eyebrows at us, and I took the bet, so we all took a shot for pre-game.
At one point, once the game was beginning, we all sat down on the couch and watched the referee throw the jump ball, which the Heats got the power of. “See we started this off and we’re gonna finish it” He rolled his eyes snatching the bag of chips from my grip, my hand still remaining in the position it was before. Not even a few seconds later, the Celtics had the power of the ball and got a 3-pointer on their first shot.
We watched the first quarter go by quickly as the Celtics led by 9 points, and I shook my head. “We’re smoking the heats right now,” Chris nagged, pulling on my shirt and making me roll my eyes. “You gotta take you shotttt,” he said, singing.
Matt poured my glass to the rim, then passed to me, “Cel-tics, Cel-tics, Cel-tics!” They chanted as the tequila burned my throat. Chris clapped in amusement, pouring my Dr. Pepper into a red cup. Matt smirked with a winner-winner chicken dinner smile, and I stuck out my middle finger in defence, which he smacked down and raised a brow at me. “Don’t try that shit princess.” I stayed silent until the game started again.
Jayson Tatum on the Celtics started off the 2nd quarter with a 3-pointer once again, which got Matt and Chris jumping out of their seats, hollering for their team as I laid back in my seat. By the time that the 2nd quarter ended, Bos 42, Mia 27 and I was taking the piss… and this shot.
Matt once again began to put my shot in, but this time painfully slow, talking his mouth off about how the Celtics are going to shit on my team. I got ahold of my glass. “Shut up before I throw this shot in your face” I said without thinking, downing the liquor in the next few seconds. When I placed my cup down, Matt had his tongue pushing against his cheek, staring straight at me.
I completely ignored him, waiting impatiently for the ads to end and the 3rd quarter to start, I arose from my seat and walked to the kitchen to get more ice for my soda. “I’m not gonna tell you again, I hope you know that” Matt had said following me “Yeah, I know” I bitched.
“Stop being a fucking brat, it’s just a game, and we’re just having fun” I walked back to the couch after slamming the fridge door shut, sitting on Chris’ side of the couch instead since I was getting irritated by Matt.
The third time. For the third fucking time, the Celtics started off with a 3-pointer. It was like they were mocking me on the screen at this point. Once the shot sank in, Matt looked behind the couch and Chris’ head, at me, burning a hole through my head. It was 70 - 45 and at this point, I was so over it that I instead took the bottle off the table and poured myself a shot before the quarter even ended.
I was about to drink the shot when Matt stopped me “Chill out, Miami is done for so you don’t even need to be having your 4th shot of the night” I glanced at him, looking back at the shot, tempted to just take it.
“Don’t tell me what to do, I know how to handle my drinks, plus it’s just a game and we’re having fun right?” I clapped back which made Chris’ jaw drop as he began to snicker, looking at Matt with a you’re going to take that smile, unable to leave his face.
“I think she’s a bit tired now; come on, up” Matt demanded, curving around Chris to grab my wrist and pulled me out of my place on the couch. I resisted at first but then I saw the pissed expression on his face and realized what I had done. He guided me up the stairs, smacking my ass while I walked up too slowly.
I entered Matt’s room and he shut the door loudly behind him “Strip and get on your knees” I hesitantly removed my shorts, then my Miami jersey and my bra and finally my panties.
I listened to his orders and got on my knees to the cold floor and pulled his grey sweatpants and boxers down with me. "You talk too much. How about we use your mouth for something better?”
His cock slapped against my face and he glared down at easily becoming impatient with me, I spit on his tip then spread it around his shaft working with my hands at first.
He pulled my head back from refrain myself from sucking his dick. “You thought you were gonna suck my dick? Brats get their throats fucked”
The back of his head hit the end of the cold sink for support but he still held my hair in his hand and his dick in the other.
“Open your mouth for me princess” He smacked his length on my face before shoving it all on mouth choking me out, my head was in his hands filling my cheeks.
His mouth was at a ‘o’ moans escaping and his head falling backwards, I felt choked out by his girth, warm tear falling down my cheeks “You like being a brat, you can take it” He smiled at my expense, pushing my head so far back that my lips touch his balls, gagging.
My hands held the back of his thighs “Hands behind your back” He slapped my cheek lightly as I winded my hands behind my back, bobbing my head at an animalistic pace. He thrusted his dick towards my face until he pulled out jerking his cock and coming on my face.
“You’re not going to talk to me smart again huh?” I nodded taking the stickiness off my face, licking it off my fingers. “Get into the bed and spread those legs for me, princess” I obeyed his orders, taking my naked body onto the bed, the cold air hitting my nipples, making me wince.
Once Matt took off his jersey, he came up in-front of me, opening my folds and placing his middle finger on my clit, playing with it. He dipped his fingers in me, making me gasp, gaping up at Matt and his dangling silver chain.
Matt finished prepping me and aligned his length to my soaking cunt. I whined loudly as he thrusted his cock into me without remorse. “Matt please, please slow, slow” My hand landed on his chest, “Brats don’t get what they want baby,"  he moaned in my ear.
Matt raised my arms over my head, intwining my fingers with him to press into me deeper. I felt Matt’s warm breath on my neck and our warm skin meshing together. Matt’s thrusts were hard, hitting my g-spot repeatedly at an animalistic pace.
We looked down together, watching his cock disappear and reappear in me “You’re so perfect; this pussy is so perfect." He kissed, sucked, and licked my neck, making dark circles. His sultry words made me wetter, our lewd sounds of moans and whimpers mixed together. I grabbed on his neck so my eyes locked with his and he smirked, not parting with them.
My wet insides squeezed around him as he slid into me feeling his pre-cum leak inside of me. “Say my name princess.” He purposely dug so deep I didn’t even know he could reach that far.
“Matttt— Matthew!” I violently came, my legs trembling with all the pleasure taking over my body. I squeezed Matt’s cock in so hard when I came that he released inside of me. I whimpered with Matt’s and my cum coated in and over my pussy. “We’re going to go back and watch the rest of the game, you better behave.”
“Yes” Matt walked into the bathroom finding wipes to clean between my thighs and my stomach, helping me up. I waltzed downstairs with a limp “Celtics just beat Heats by 20 points” Chris announced.
Matt glanced at me with a grin on his face teasing me “I told you so”
tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi
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