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Any good Sabretooth comic recommendations? With more stuff about what he likes? Like Mary Shelley overdrive or Weapon x
ive made posts about my favs here + here, but Mary Shelley Overdrive n Weapon X 2017 is unfortunately kinda the best he gets for character lore..
Sabretooth Special 1995 briefly shows off his living space a bit, similar to Mary Shelley, and he makes a few pop culture references if i remember correctly
Sabretooth: Back To Nature + Wolverine 2003 #13 -> #19 show him doing his actual job(again, like Mary Shelley) and give some good kindling for who he is as a person(cuz his motives are more than just carnage)
bonus recommendations -> Uncanny X-Men Annual #18 + X-Men 1991 #33 (they just came to mind for some reason)
i feel ur pain tho, anon. i feel like the guys secretly a lover of all kinds of entertainment, being bored outta his mind most of the time making him seek out all kinds of movies n books n probably even broadway shows
(i can see him also just sittin with a cold beer n watching crap on tv most nights to deal with his ptsd induced insomnia too tbh)
(Wolverine 2003, issue #50) <-(NOT A RECOMMENDATION, JUST A FITTING PANEL iykyk)
i wanna see what fun he gets up to in his free time too...i can only think of this one bit atm where he goes to a wrestling show with a couple babes(in a Giorgio Armani brand suit)
(Wolverine 1988, issue #60) <-(NOT A RECOMMENDATION EITHER iykyk......)
edit: forgot to add Weapon X 2002 #26 -> #28 ! those issues have him hanging out with buddies n doing personal work too, and give a lotta character to himđ
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happy priiiddee!! hereâs some ConRoc that I finished at 5am
tags: first time blowjob, internalized homophobia, some seriously sloppy toppy, and general connor and rocco strange dynamics. whatâs up with those guys.
Connor winced at the pain in his knees against the bathroom tile. His position wasnât particularly comfortable, but in his mind it was all a part of his latest, greatest self inflicted task. His mind swims in every ounce of whisky heâd downed to escape his feelings. About four in he knew it was no use.
Itâd been the theme of the evening, jokes about sex and muttering about trying something neither of them had before. Rocco had thought it was all in good fun, but it became apparent to him that Connor seemed more serious than usual. It was somber, and oddly aggressive.
âYerâre a man, ya know whatcha like. Havinâ another man try at ya ainât gonna hurtcha. Thereâs a mutual understandinâ there yer not gettinâ.â
âI dunno,â Rocco shrugged with a smile while fighting off a second hand embarrassment that made him push his beer away from him, âNever occurred to me. Iâm not usually askinâ if dudes will blow me. â
ââŚWhat if he finds out heâs good at it?â
The entire interaction was reeking of desperation.
When Connor wants something, nothing can stand in his wayâthat was just the type of man Rocco always understood he was. When that something was him, and there was a hand placed on his thigh just out of sight of the other bar goers, he took it upon himself to ask why he would deny something from someone so headstrong about everything he did. Plus, Rocco was in a dry spell, and heâd never call Connor a man he didnât find attractive.
For Connor, however, this was one of his morbid curiosities. His feelings were Rocco were long unexplored, and kept quiet for a plethora of justificationsâor at least, thatâs how he often explained it to himself. Something in him wavered that night. Maybe it was in the way Roc had carried himself that night. His laugh, the way that he smelled. He couldnât run from it, and he could tell Rocco wasnât either.
Two fifteen minute spaced out bathroom trips later, and there Connor was, drooling with his cheek to Roccoâs favorite pair of black slacks. At least he was somewhat dressed for the occasion.
Roccoâs hand extends and makes contact with his other cheek. Itâs sweet, itâs loving, but the thumb that comes to swipe his bottom lip is expectant. Connorâs lips part in welcome while his heart pounds against his ribcage.
ââŚYou, uhâŚsure you wanna do this?â Rocco cranes down towards him, fearful his voice would bounce off the tile.
Connorâs eyelids were heavy lead anvils, and his head a useless boulder. He works against his own weight to look up and into Roccoâs eyes. Thereâs something so bright about himâheâs never seen him gleam like this. He sputters in his confessional, he just wants to tell him heâs having second thoughtsâbut to lie to his paragon is to bring shame to his beliefs.
Doped by his own lackluster confidence, the question evokes Connor to move. He nods sloppilyâhe dared not answer with words, lest he admit something he wasnât quite ready to yetâand brings his hand to travel up and his pants, the fabric rustling until he meets the clasps. He tugs at the fabric until what he searches for is exposed. Standing straight and blushed red, glistening at the tip. His eyes travel down the length in front of him and into the dark curled pubic hair at the base. Heâd never seen one this hard and this close, and he swallowed every homophobic remark that heâs ever thrownânow heâd seen one up closeâŚand it wasnât half bad.
Rocco stares down at the scene. If he didnât know any better, he thought Connor was mere seconds from biting it off. It didnât deter him though, in fact, he twitched excitedly at the thought. Connor reacts with it, his eyes widening and his hand going to catch it as if it were going to fall off of his body. The new skin to skin contact makes Rocco jump again.
Connorâs head tilts as he lets the base rest on his lips, warm and damp, he canât help but take his first taste of the skin. Itâs both salty and slightly sweet. He presses kisses up the base to see if it all tastes that way. He takes a long languid lick along the curves, over the veins, and to the tip. Rocco shudders, so he does it againâthis time he makes sure they lock eyes.
Rocco curses under his long breath out. Connorâs hot spit slides from his cock, connecting him back to his mouth. He reaches down and grabs his base this time, and his other hand takes a fist full of spiked brown hair.
He slides his pointed tip along his lips, he can feel hot breath in waiting. When his precum he glossed him over, he pushed his way in, and Connor, in all his obedience, gave him no trouble.
Connor takes his time to enjoy the new sensation. The limb is hot, it slides along his tongue until he can feel it in his throat. For a moment he can feel himself fighting the urge to gag, and quickly getting a taste of his whiskey from earlier, but he wins the fight to get it back down. His nose pressed in Roccoâs bush, the smell somehow more intoxicating, and he feels him hard on scrape against his jeans. Rocco moans softly, making Connorâs eyes lock back onto him.
âYou kinda look like a cheap whore like this.â he cracks a smile and wheezes out a laugh. Connor doesnât find it as amusing, no, his face reddensâhow could something be humiliating and yet so arousing?
There was no time to dwell on that thought, his own impatience had begun to take over. He starts bob his head forward, fucking Roccoâs cock as deep into his throat as he could take it. His tongue swirls along the base. He can feel Roccoâs every reaction. He coats him in spit again, so much so itâs started to slide down his chin. He can taste his alcohol again, and he can hear the gurgling of his throat as he tries to get used to the pounding against it.
Roccoâs moans slowly grow in volume, he canât help but watch the smaller man choke on him. He grows greedy with his desire though, and grips tighter on his hair. He pulls him off suddenly, spit trailing with him as he coughed him back up. Connor gripped his thighs, gasping to catch his breath, and he rested his cheek against him again.
âCould IâŚget deeper? You wanna try that?â
Connor nods again, and returns to attention.
He grabs him at the hair tightly this time, and slides into his mouth again. He puts himself as deep as he can go, deeper than Connor himself would try. He sputters and coughs and gasps with his eyes water, but he doesnât beg for it to stop. His thick cock bulges in his throat, tight and warm, Connorâs stomach churns as he watches Rocco bite his lip and pick up speed.
The sounds become repugnant as Rocco fucks into his throat. Connor whines and tears flow from his red face, but heâs already started leaking in his jeans.
âFuck, you were made for this. âSure this isnât your first time? ShitâI should have you speed dialââ
Connorâs eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to concentrate on not letting anything unwanted come back up. The motion sickness of it all was hard to fight, but his positionâbeing purely used, he could barely contain his excitement. Had he not been already drowning in booze, heâd have been able to get even drunker off the taste of him alone. He makes a pained sound just as Rocco pulls out of him again, holding his head back with his hand on himself.
He jerks himself hard and fast as he chases his release. He concentrates on Connorâs soaked and pink face still tilted upwards. Connorâs chest was beating even harder than before, his vision blurred as he watched the tip pointed at his face and waited with indigent anticipation. He opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue, wide ropes of spit parting as he waits.
He comes hard and fast, shooting onto Connorâs face amidst a slew of names. Connorâs attempt to catch anything is futileâit coats most of his face, making him close one eye just in the nick of time.
Rocco finally slows, breathing heavily as his soft, now sensitive cock deflates. He holds himself up along the bathroom stall, and then takes in the mess heâs made, hand still gripped on the others hair.
Connor remained on his knees, hands settled on his thighs, tent still pitched in his pants, trying to reel himself back into reality.
ââŚYou alright?â He finally asks. Thereâs a silent pause, but he watches the fire reignite in Connorâs eyes.
âYouâre going to have to pay me back fer dis, just so you know.â
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