#and the probability that she's interested in girls is pretty slim i feel

[morningmask27]

i’ve got a crush on a girl in my class for a few months now, i haven’t let anyone but my mother and therapist know about it (simply because I need to complain about having a crush to someone or I’d explode). now we have been put together in a group for a huge project. it’s just us two so i’ll have to work super hard to not let anything show.

[kesujo]

Unabashed Seduction

Tags: mommykink (...the rest of the tags are relatively vanilla, I think)

Warning: 17k words

The night was not turning out how I expected it to go.

I was dressed to kill, freshly washed, put on enough cologne to be noticeable but not too much as to be overbearing, spent probably close to half an hour styling my hair, even properly shaved my pubic hair and sprayed some ball toner for good measure too. I even scouted the bar before coming here; some friends had recommended this place as a great new spot to pick up chicks, but there hasn’t been one I’ve talked to that hasn’t been too wasted to feel good about taking back to my place.

“Sorry babe, I’d love to stay and chat some more but I gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

“Aaw, why?”

The girl I was currently talking to was hot, for sure, but I could pretty much smell the alcohol from her breath. “You make sure you get home safely, alrighty, princess?”

“Why don’t you take me home then?”

Her voice was filled with seductive intent, but I was long past the point of interest. “Sorry, sweetie. How about an Uber instead?”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” she continued with her low, sultry tone, but when I didn’t budge, she switched to a whinier tone, “Come on, I’m dying to get fucked.”

I could feel her tits pressing up against my arm, but tempting as they were, there was no way she had the capacity to consent in her current state. “Give me a sec, ok?”

It took a few more minutes to send her on her way back home, leaving me back inside the bar, eyeing the rest of the crowd. There was no shortage of girls, but none of them caught my eye.

Tonight’s not my night, I guess.

Deciding that I better head home before some other drunk-out-of-her-mind chick decides she wants to go home with me and isn’t as good about giving up as the previous one, I downed the rest of my drink. Before I set out to leave, another last-minute scan of the crowd stopped me dead in my tracks when my eyes landed on her.

At first, all my eyes told me about her was that she was a fine piece of ass; the way that spaghetti-strap white dress hugged and accentuated her curves was sublime, the fabric stretching perfectly over her tight, plump ass sitting prettily atop the bar stool that somehow didn’t even seem to crease under her weight. But when she turned to the side to talk to the person next to her, the more than ample amount of cleavage spilling out of the top told me she had curves upstairs too; sure, she wasn’t as big I usually liked them, but the confidence with which she bared them more than made up for that. The side profile or her face told me that it wasn’t just her body that was fire: her lips were full and red, her eyebrows well-manicured and clean, her skin a perfect milky white with thighs that looked as soft as marshmallows, everything even down to her plunging neckline was perfection.

But where have I seen her before?

Before I could fully find the answer to that question, she turned back around, facing away from me to talk to someone on her other side.

Was she famous? She definitely had the looks for it. Or maybe she just had one of those faces that everyone seemed to recognize.

Stumped, I ended up pulling out my phone to take a picture of her to save the query for later. There was no way I would be able to come up with an answer given how buzzed I was at the moment. In that moment, while I was steadying my phone on her, something that I probably shouldn’t have caught on camera happened.

While her left hand was covering the top of her drink, her fingers were slim enough to give way to tiny cracks that allowed for something to be slipped between. She might’ve been secure in thinking that they were small enough to adequately protect her drink, but evidently was mistaken: while she was turned away talking to the gal to her right, the bartender took a quick look around, pulled something out from his pocket, and slipped a small, white tablet into her drink.

What the fuck?!

The tablet dissolved in an instant, the fizzles from the tablet vanishing just as quickly as it was plopped into her beverage.

Seeing that sobered me up pretty quickly. Fortunately, I had the wherewithal to switch to video when I noticed the bartender taking one too many glances at her drink, and recorded the entire ordeal.

Was I seeing things correctly? Were they trying to use a date rape drug on her?

Watching the video over again, now that I was considerably less drunk, the identity of the woman came to me.

Oh shit, that’s Tiffany Young, isn’t it? That K-Pop girl who came to America to release a few English songs or something. They’re trying to pull this shit on a celebrity?

The more I replayed the few-seconds clip, the more certain I became. The amount of secrecy that the bartender employed, how abnormally quick his actions were for an innocent person, even the way the guy on Tiffany’s left seemed to share a knowing glance at the bartender before slipping in the mini-tablet.

However, when I looked up from my phone, to my horror, Tiffany had already placed the glass to her lips and downed the rest of the glass.

Laughter and cheers erupted from the group after she did so, Tiffany smiling along with them.

Maybe I saw seeing things incorrectly. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

The quick glance and smirk the bartender and the guy shared was all it took for me to stand up.

Now that I thought about it, all the guys who recommended me this place weren’t really ones to go to clubs much themselves. I had decided to overlook the rumors of this place’s reputation, of drunk girls often getting taken advantage of, in favor of listening to the recommendations of my friends, but having witnessed it with my own eyes, I now had no doubt those rumors were true. Which meant, if even the bartender was in on it, then calling for security was a gamble that I couldn’t afford to risk.

“Excuse me.”

I could barely hear myself over the overbearing music, and given how far I was from them, it was no wonder none of them reacted to me. From her actions to the way she was slightly slurring her words, I could tell she was already pretty drunk.

If she’s that drunk, then it probably won’t take long for those drugs to kick in.

My walk turned into a brisk pace, pushing and maneuvering through the crowd as I watched another shot disappearing down her gullet.

“Excuse me!”

This time, both my distance and volume were enough to get the attention of all four parties.

The guy sitting next to Tiffany was the one who responded first. “What’s up, dude?”

“What’s up is that you’re trying to fucking slip date rape drugs into this woman’s drinks, bitch.”

He stood up and, in an instant, was right in front of me, bumping his puffed-out chest against mine. Although he stood an inch or two above me, I stood my ground, unphased. “What did you say to me?”

“Exthuse me, wha…?”

“You heard me. Are you really so pathetic that you need to rely on drugs to get laid?”

He raised his arm with a balled fist, but I kept my eyes on him, unflinching. “You just jealous I get to talk to the hottest chick in the club? You trying to play white knight in a pathetic attempt to get into her pants?

“Ex—Excuse me!” The two of us stopped, our attention turning towards the slightly red-faced celebrity. “What did you thay--say? A … date wape—… dddate ww—rrrappe ddrrug?”

I nodded. “I have—”

“Come on Tiffany, are you really going to believe this desperate loser over me?”

“—as I was saying, I have video—”

“You’ve been talking to me all night—” Her eyes flickered back and forth between me and him, and I could tell that he was making good ground in convincing her otherwise. I needed to do something before I let these guys get away with it. “—and you’re suddenly going to trust this random guy who shows up? You’ve been fine so far, haven’t you?”

“Well … yeah, I hhavenn’t—” I shoved the screen with the playing video in front of her without another word. “—what’re—…” she quieted down as her eyes focused on the smartphone in my hands.

Very quickly, I could start to see the panic in the guy’s eyes. “What are you doing, showing her—” the guy swiped at my phone, causing it to fly out of my hands and over the bar counter.

“You saw enough though, right?”

The look she gave the guy was all the answer I need.

“What did—” from how much less she was slurring her words, I became hopeful it was a sign of sobering up after reaching the important part of the video, “—are you in on this with the bb—bartender?”

“What? The bar—no! What are you talking about?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his stammering. “If you weren’t, then you wouldn’t have smacked my phone out of my hand, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s a load of bullshit, I just knocked the phone out of your hand because—” a pause, a nervous twitch of his eyes and a quick sideways glance at the bartender, who I could tell was very deliberately staying away from this side of the bar considering how closely he was hovering around it not minutes before, before continuing, “—for all I know, you could’ve been showing her some doctored video, or some inappropriate stuff.”

“Right, and you expect Tiffany to believe that?”

The two of us turned to her, who at this point was trying to get the attention of the bartender. “Exthuse--Excuse me, bartender!” Her sharp, loud voice cut through the blaring music like a hot knife through butter, but even then, he barely moved. “Excuse me!” The volume of her voice rose, but still the bartender didn’t budge. She leaned over, the woman on her right having evidently slipped away without my noticing. “Excuse me!”

This time, Tiffany’s voice drew even the attention of the other patrons of the club, who started to glance over. Probably realizing he couldn’t play dumb anymore, he walked over. “Yes, how may I help you, miss?”

“There thoud—” she furrowed her brows, slowing down her speaking rate while enunciating her words more carefully, “—shoould be a phhonne oon the grround sommewhherre near yyou, can you ppick it up?”

“A phone?” He angled his head down and did a quick sweep of the enclosed bartending area, just as quickly looking back up with a shrug. “I don’t see a phone.”

“There must be—” her eyes narrowed, and in the corner of my eye, I could see her pressing her legs together, as if tensing, “—there must be, I saw it get knocked over. Can you look again?” He did the sweep with his eyes again, probably about 0.1 seconds slower this time, but Tiffany didn’t let it slide. “No,” she said, the clear frustration on her face worsening the slurring of her speech, “I mean down look—I mean, get down and look.”

“I’m sorry—was it your phone?”

Tiffany shook her head. I quickly glanced at the other guy, whose face was growing redder by the second. I grinned; checkmate, you fucking rapist.

“No, it was this—” again, a slight stutter in her words, and another quick glance at her allowed me to notice the slightly quicker rate at which her chest was heaving, and the fact that it was heaving in the first place, “—this gentleman’s.”

“In that case, no can do.”

“What?”

“I noticed the commotion he was causing earlier, and while it’s not my place to take sides in bar-side squabbles—” yeah right, you were the one who slipped in the drug “—what I can do is think to myself, out loud, that him losing his phone is probably not the worst thing that can happen to a man like him.”

“Are you saying you—are you saying that because you were drink—” Tiffany furrowed her brows in annoyance, her speech speeding up in clear parallel with her frustration but simultaneously causing her to trip over her words more, “—you were the one who slipped that white—white thing into my drink?”

Hearing that sentence, as broken as it was, was probably one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever heard in my entire life. And that was coming from someone who has heard compliments from a porn actress that he fucks better than some of her coworkers.

“…Excuse me, what?”

“I saw the video,” she replied, still treading carefully over her words but still speaking with all the authority of a celebrity, “You slipped something between my fingers, into my drink, while I was looking away. I didn’t get to see the entire video because the phone was knocked onto the ground somewhere near you.” At this point, I could tell even the bartender was starting to have nervous sweats.

“I mean, if you let her watch the whole video, maybe she can have some good context as to what kind of a thing you slipped into her drink, right?”

“I’m—no, I’m sorry miss, it must’ve been a mistake. We’re a professional and well-known establishment—”

“Yeah, you’re certainly well-known alright,” I cut him off, poorly holding off a laugh, “well known for taking advantage of drunk women.”

“Bro, stop daydreaming. This is reality, you have to accept the fact that not every fucking woman in the world wants to sleep with you.”

“Yeah—”

“This white knight bullshit you’re doing is ridiculous, come on Tiffany, let’s—”

The man’s attempt to reach out to grab her wrist failed, Tiffany taking a hasty step back to dodge him, nearly stumbling into a backwards fall. Before I could reach out to catch her, her arm had shot out to the now unoccupied barstool behind her, setting herself back upright.

“No. I’m—” she quickly changed her standing stance, pushing her legs together again; this time, I couldn’t help but notice her face a little redder than before, but even more noticeable were the beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead. Was that the drug starting to kick in? “—I’m—I can’t—” she took another hasty step back, stumbling again. This time, I was ready, my hand shooting out to grab her arm before she could fall onto the ground.

“Let’s get you out of here, first, Tiffany. I’ll call an Uber for you.”

“What do you think—”

“I have that video saved on my cloud. Do anything, follow us, and I’ll send that video straight to the police. Got it?”

The threat caused the pair to freeze in their tracks.

“Tiffany, can you walk?”

She nodded, but a few steps told the completely opposite story. Fortunately, I was prepared to catch her. “Sorry…”

“Not a problem. Let’s go.” I threw her arm around my waist and secured hers with my own arm, pushing through the crowd towards the exit.

We barely made it a few steps before Tiffany pulled at my shirt. “Wait—…”

“Damian.”

“—Damian.”

This time, when I looked at her, I could tell her condition had worsened even more; she was panting pretty heavily now, her forehead almost glistening with sweat, her face beet-red and her legs pressed firmly together. So that’s why it was so hard to walk; why was she so adamant about doing that? Was the drug creating some type of pain there?

“What’s wrong? Do I need to call 911?”

She shook her head. “Let’s sit down for a second.”

I acquiesced against my better judgement, finding a vacated table as far away from the crowd as I could find. As soon as we reached it, Tiffany all but collapsed onto the leather-padded booth seats, pulling me into the seat right next to her. “How are you feeling? Do I need to call anyone?”

“With what phone?”

Shit, that’s right. My phone.

“Eh, it’s not the first time I’ve lost my phone. I can just get another one.”

For some reason, that seemed to pique her interest. “What? ‘First time’?”

I thought back to that incident, where I found out the morning after one of the wilder nights of sex I’ve ever had that she was crazier out of bed than in it. “Never mind that, what’s wrong?”

She turned towards me, a look that was all-too-familiar look on her face. “Me.” She uncrossed her legs, probably the first time she willingly parted her legs ever since the drugs seemed to kick in, slinging an arm across my torso while her leg did the same across my lap. In barely a second, the dark-haired woman was straddling my lap, her arms looped around my neck, and an intense gaze bearing down on me. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“What?”

My attempts at trying to establish eye contact with her failed, her eyes instead electing to stare directly at my lips. I could slowly feel her pressing herself more firmly against my slowly-growing erection. “I feel like … I need you. Now.”

Oh, fuck.

That desperate lust in her eyes, the way she was starting to grind against my hardening member, the fullness of her lips and the redness of her face and the neckline of her spaghetti-strap top slowly being pushed down and revealing more of her cleavage, it was all getting too overwhelming.

She’s drunk. I need to stop this.

“Tiffany—”

“Just a little bit.”

I took a deep breath, reigning in my raging hormones, everything in my body that was yelling at me to go! “No.”

“Please?”

Calm down.

“You’re drunk—”

“Just a little bit, I promise.”

I was so distracted by trying to gather the strength to push the out-of-control celebrity off my lap that I was almost too late in catching her trying to undo the fly in my pants.

“Stop—Tiffany—”

The burgeoning relief in her face was instantly replaced with a frustration as my hands wrapped firmly around hers, bringing them back to her sides. God, I feel like I could accidentally snap these wrists at any moment. “I need you so bad, please…” she whined, grinding harder against my crotch after another failed attempt at advancing her hand towards it. It might’ve just been my imagination, but I could’ve sworn I could feel her arousal leaking out of her and onto my pants in liquid form. “…it hurts so much…”

Jesus, what the fuck kind of drug did they feed her that got her like this?

“Tiffany, you need to go back to your house—”

“No!” Her legs wrapped more tightly around my waist as I tried to slide her off me, simultaneously pressing those bountiful tits against my chest and planting her face against my collarbone. “I don’t—I can’t, not without—”

I took in another deep breath. Control yourself, Damian. Not only is this woman drunk, but she’s influenced by an evidently pretty strong aphrodisiac. She is doubly in no state to properly consent.

“Let’s find you some sleeping pills, then—”

She shook her head against my neck. “No no no, I don’t need more drugs, I need—I need your cock.”

I could just about feel the skin on my palm breaking with how tightly I was clenching my free hand. “Listen, Tiffany, as much as I would love to, you—”

“Then fuck me.”

“Listen to me.” The words unintentionally came out as a growl, and when I realized that, my face morphed into one of horrified realization. “Sorry, I—” And, just as quickly, my face morphed into that of confusion. Why did she look even more turned on?

“Yeah, punish me daddy, I’ve been—”

“No, stop.” I mustered every last ounce of strength I had to capture both of her arms, settling them at her sides. “Tiffany, I don’t mean to be rude, but please don’t interrupt me.” I didn’t know if my frustration was leaking through or if she was going through with the roleplay she manufactured out of nowhere, but frankly, I didn’t care: I was just thankful she had finally decided to settle down. “You’re drunk. You were fed some drug that’s making you like this. That is two reasons you can’t consent when normally one would suffice. Do you understand?” She didn’t respond, unperturbed, as if the words went in one ear and out the other. I did tell her not to interrupt, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t even shake or nod her head. “Listen, you need to go home and get some sleep. Before something happens to you that can’t be undone.” Again, she didn’t respond, maintaining strong eye contact with a smile on her face. “Do you understand?” No response. Was she really intending to maliciously comply with my request for her to not interrupt me? “Answer me.”

“Hm? What?”

I sighed. The words really went in one ear and out the other, huh? Maybe I shouldn’t expect too much out of someone as obscenely drunk as her. “I said—”

“You talk too much.”

“Don’t inter—”

This time, it wasn’t Tiffany’s words that interrupted me, but her actions: namely, when she leaned forward and, with an amount of accuracy unbefitting a drunk person, promptly silenced me with her lips.

I couldn’t help but enjoy the soft, velvety texture of her plump lips for a second, which were every bit as amazing to kiss as they looked, before pulling away.

“Tiff—”

She manually silenced me again, with such accuracy I was beginning to wonder if she was actually drunk or not. But all I needed to do to answer that question was to taste the alcohol on her lips.

It took a second longer to shake her off again, but she was persistent. “Wait—”

With my hands busy holding her wrists in place, I could do nothing but try to dodge her assault. But, when I realized this scene, of a woman seemingly attempting to sexually assault a man, would only draw more attention, I stopped resisting as much. Tiffany, taking full advantage of the fact, leaned further into the kiss, wasting no time in involving her tongue.

And fuck me if it wasn’t the hottest make out session I’ve ever had, with probably the hottest chick I’ve ever kissed, but the ever-present aftertaste of alcohol ruined any attempt of mine at trying to get into the mood.

When my grip of her wrists vanished, her arms instantly came up, looping around my neck to pull me deeper into the kiss. But despite all the strength she was finally allowed to use, she was still no match for me. “Tiffany, bed.”

Those words were the only ones I could get out before I lost control of her again, but thankfully, she seemed to hear them over the blaring music of the club. “Oh, you’re finally ready?”

I smirked, which apparently was all the answer Tiffany need to climb off me.

And to think I almost retired early to avoid the clingy girls who couldn’t say no, only to end up with one anyway.

“There’s a hotel just down the block.”

Thankfully, this time, Tiffany didn’t protest, obediently following a few steps behind me as we exited the club and into the brisk early-autumn night. Obedient as she was, I could still tell how horny she was by how tightly she clung onto and how she had returned to the strange tight-legged walk, an action that I finally understood the meaning of: she was trying to contain her wetness, something that I confirmed had leaked onto my pants. Thankfully, they were dark enough so as to not be noticeable.

Although the walk was brief, I was thankful we weren’t stopped or even around many other people; the only delay was at the hotel counter, where I briefly considered what type of room I should get before quickly deciding to get the most expensive suite of the hotel. This was Tiffany Young after all, and with what almost happened to her, she probably needed it.

“Thank you for your patronage!”

The lady behind the counter bowed politely, but I could feel her gaze lingering on me as I dragged Tiffany onto the elevator, keycard in hand. I couldn’t blame her; with how heavy Tiffany’s panting has gotten, with how flushed her face had become, with how much she was pressing herself against me, it probably looked like I was the one who fed her that date-rape, aphrodisiac, whatever-it-was drug to her. At least Tiffany noticed too and was thankfully sound-minded enough to quell those suspicions, but even so, I could tell she figured something was off.

The doors to the elevator barely closed before Tiffany was all over me again, lips going straight to my nape while her arms and legs attempted to snake around my body.

“Damn it—” No, I’m pretending like I’m continuing this in the room “—at least wait until we get into the room.”

“Wait?”

“Someone might see.”

Tiffany paused for a second, shooting me a dangerously seductive smile. “Let them watch.”

Oh, fuck. I stopped to take a deep breath, again trying to reign in my raging hormones, stifling the image of Tiffany riding my cock in this elevator while the door opened to reveal a horrified yet turned on audience. This woman is drunk and affected by that bartender’s drugs. I can’t—

Out of the corner of my eyes, a glimpse of her cleavage caught my attention. Before I knew it, my eyes had fallen onto them, completely captivated.

It was only when the elevator dinged that I snapped out of it.

I can’t let myself lose control. Fuck, why is she doing this to me? Why do I feel like I can’t control myself when I’m around her?

“Tiff—” I had to almost lift Tiffany up and carry her out of the elevator with how little regard she gave to the fact that we had stopped ascending, “—Tiffany, we’re here.”

Getting to the suite and unlocking it with the keycard was already a decently hard task when a woman was wrapped around me, but even harder when that woman was Tiffany. Every time she pressed her tits against my arm, every time she planted another kiss on my jaw, every time her hands slid across my abs, I wanted to stop what I was doing, pin her against the door I was struggling with, rip that pretty little dress off her lecherous body and ravish her right then and there—but that wasn’t what I was here for.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I squatted down and picked Tiffany up in one fluid motion, a squeal erupting from the surprised celebrity. “Ooh, what’re you gonna do to me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Thankfully, the walk to the bed was short, so Tiffany didn’t have much more time to respond before I dumped her onto the soft mattress. The light of the half-moon streamed through the huge glass pane in the bedroom, illuminating Tiffany’s figure strewn haphazardly across the white blankets of the bed. In contrast to the beautiful sight was her beet-red face, the sizable mounds on her chest heaving hard enough to be noticeable, her hands already having disappeared under the bottom half of her dress that was barely clinging onto her well-shaped curves. It took me what felt like a full minute to bring my suddenly spiking hormones down to a controllable level.

“Dam-Damian?”

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll be right back.”

I was going to regret this. Or maybe I wasn’t.

This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fuck such an irresistibly sexy and unforgivingly erotic woman, a globally-known singer, known by many, loved by many, and lusted over by many … when was it ever going to present itself to me?

No. I have to be content, knowing that, at least, I didn’t let Tiffany do anything she might regret.

… But fuck, if only she wasn’t drunk, if only she gave me any reason to believe she could consent, then—

“Wait! –you’re lying!”

—then I would— “What?”

“You didn’t even look like you were in a rush.” Her words were spoken slowly, still somewhat slurred, but I could still very clearly distinguish every syllable that was coming out of her mouth. “Are you trying to ditch me?”

Being able to figure that out means that she’s at least sober enough to use her brain enough to properly consent, right?

It didn’t take a second for me to be disgusted with myself for thinking that. With how obviously drunk she was a second ago, there was no way she was sober enough to properly consent—that aside, listening to her speak was already evidence enough for her lingering drunkenness. “No, I’m not ditching you. I’ll be right there, ok, Tiffany?”

“Don’t lie to me!”

It was so hard to continue resisting the urge to give in. It felt like everything was working against me: how horny Tiffany had made me, the feeling of regret for walking away from such a golden opportunity, picturing what Tiffany looked like naked and imagining what it would be like to fuck her, that escalating voice trying to convince me that it was ok, even Tiffany herself was trying to stop me.

Just keep walking, Damian.

“Don’t look down on me just because I’m a little drunk! Is that what you’re worried about?”

I scoffed, turning around. “Please, I fuck drunk girls all the time.”

Apparently, doing that was the wrong move. “See, you’re lying! It’s so obvious!”

Fuck, why did I have to be such a bad liar?

But the fact that she could tell that I was lying was yet another indication that she’s sober enough to consent, isn’t it?

“No, I—” I let out a frustrated sigh. “—I’m sorry Tiffany, have a good night—”

Before I could sprint off, her brows furrowed and she keeled over in pain.

I barely had time to consider if it was an act before I was already at her side, hand gently patting her back. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts…”

“What? What does?” At least it doesn’t seem like she was acting, with how she hasn’t attacked me yet. “Do you need me to get you some medicine?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then what…?”

“It hurts,” she repeated, and when my eyes followed where her arms were leading to, the realization hit the moment she said the clarifying words, “My pussy. It hurts so bad.”

Was that an actual thing? Did there exist such a drug that made a woman so horny, her pussy would start hurting?

“What are you—” I couldn’t even bring myself to accuse her of lying though. With how much she was sweating and how badly she was groaning—either she was one hell of an actress, or the drugs were really hurting her that badly.

See? Not only is she probably mentally sound enough to consent, but she actually needs you. It would be a disservice, both to myself and to her, to just walk away.

For the first time in my life, I conceded to my lust.

“I’ll help you.”

She turned her head towards me, looking at me weakly. “R-Really?”

I reached down and flung the shirt off my body. I could feel Tiffany’s gaze lasering in on my well-defined abs as I climbed onto the bed, one hand landing on her arm while the other on her stomach. “You better not regret asking for this.”

My hands went between her legs, but before they even reached their destination, I could feel the heat emanating from her privates. Holy shit, that drug is really something else…

“No—ah, fuck…” her protest was cut short when my hand found its target, the tips of my fingers instantly getting soaked upon pressing against her burning sex.

“Look at this, you’re so wet.”

“Damian—ah, ah, fuck!”

Her hands fell to her sides, her legs spreading further apart, her dress hitching up to her hips, bucking desperately into my fingers as they played with her soaking wet folds. Her eyes fluttered shut, her back arching slightly off the soft mattress, lips parted and head thrown back.

“It must’ve been hard, hiding all of this—” I withdrew my hand, showing Tiffany, whose eyes opened back up as soon as my hands left her, her slick clinging onto my digits, “—huh?”

“Please, Damian. It hurts…”

“It hurts?”

She nodded, her next sentence cut short with another shrill moan as I pushed three digits deep into her sex.

“Fuck, oh my—oh, oh, fuck—”

Her eyes slammed shut again as I pumped the three fingers inside her, curling them against her fleshy, sticky walls. “Does it still hurt?”

The only response Tiffany could give was the string of moans tumbling out of her mouth, squirming and legs tensing at the feeling of my fingers rubbing the fleshy interior of her vagina. The thumb, having nothing else to do, brushed over her labia, activating more of the nerves on the sensitive part of her nethers.

Tiffany communicated her pleasure well, but I could tell she wanted more. Her sighs and moans seemed to be coming out of her mouth in place of words she wanted to say, her hands were lightly placed at her stomach as if unsure if she should pull me further in or push me out, her eyes looked on at me with lust but also with the same desperation that initially drew me in.

“Dam—Damian, I can’t, I need—” she threw her head back again, letting out something between a squeal and a moan as my fingers curled inside her love canal.

Ah, so that’s her G-spot, huh?

“Oh fuck, right there—” she let loose another loud moan as I again curled my fingers into that spot inside her. That one action caused the idol to completely forget about the request she was about to make, her legs subconsciously spreading further as I continued to rub the sensitive spot inside her.

“What did you need?”

“More—fuck Damian, right there, yes!”

“You like that? When I put pressure right there?”

Tiffany’s only response was to scream out in pure ecstasy. I couldn’t help but grin at that, drinking in the delectable sight of Tiffany squirming on the bed, dress hanging onto her body for dear life, long eyelashes shut, full, red lips parted, every bit of her curvaceous body twisting and turning at my every move. Maybe this night wasn’t going as badly as I initially thought it was.

“Yes! More, please, more!”

To add onto the beautiful sight before me was the equally beautiful sound of her begging, her persistent moans, joined only by the occasional squeaking and shaking of the bed. I wondered if we were disturbing any of our neighbors who almost definitely were already asleep, but quickly realized I didn’t care in the slightest.

“I wonder how many times I must’ve saved the world in my previous life to get the chance to do this to such a beauty like you.”

It felt like barely any time had passed, but I could already feel the pussy of the Korean-American celebrity start tightening around my fingers, hear the increasingly erratic panting and moaning from her lips, the wild ferocity with which her legs thrashed and her toes curled: all the telltale signs of an impending orgasm. And while I would’ve loved to claim it was my immaculate skills with my fingers, nothing else but the interference of the drug could reasonably explain her state of near-climax so soon after I started.

“Oh fuck, I didn’t know fingers could feel so good inside me…”

Her voice was breathless, her forehead glistening with sweat, but this time, instead of a visage of pained frustration that she wore while in the club, her face was now etched with that of pure ecstasy.

“I’m close, a little more, please…”

The words came out almost as a breathless whisper, a final plead for release, the strain in her voice, and the lust pouring out from every square inch of Tiffany’s delectable body; seeing a woman squirm and twist as she succumbed to her orgasm was one of the reasons I became so practiced at using my fingers, but with Tiffany, that feeling turned up to eleven. I didn’t want to just see her cum, I wanted to see her completely lose herself. I wanted to see her become a mess, I wanted her to forget her own name as she squirted all over me, the bed, everything.

That was exactly why, in the final moments before her climax, I shoved my face between her legs, exposing her clit with my thumb, surrounded the sensitive nub with my lips, and gave it a firm suck.

The suite erupted with Tiffany’s ecstatic screams, a translucent jet of her ejaculate hitting me square in the jaw. I recovered quickly, lifting my head out from between her legs while letting her ride my fingers as the singer unleashed a beautiful melody of ecstasy and pleasure. I sat there and watched the beautifully erotic sight before me, of her voluptuous body violently shaking and her head pushed as far back into the pillow as it could go and her legs tensing and vibrating as jet after jet of her cum sprayed past my fingers and onto my arms and stomach.

After she pushed past that peak, her screams and moans turned into sighs and whimpers, the last bits of her cum dribbling out of her womanhood like a leaky faucet.

“Look at you, the famous Tiffany Young, well-renowned global superstar, reduced to a sexy mess. What millions of people wouldn’t give to see you squirting so hard, I wonder.” Her eyes landed on the shirt I was wearing, now shining from being drenched with her fluids. “Looks like you owe me two now: one, for that orgasm, and two, for this shirt.”

It took Tiffany a few seconds to recover, a slight shudder running up her body as I extracted my fingers from her soaking wet heat, but when she did, her demeanor changed on a dime. “I’m so sorry,” she answered with a noticeable pout on her lips, shifting into a sitting position and then into a crawl, facing me. “Let me pay you back for that, baby.”

What is going on?

Very clearly, Tiffany’s desperation vanished—or at least, simmered down—but her confident, very intentionally seductive gaze, her low crawl that gave me an eyeful of her ample cleavage and hints at her light-brown areola, her every movement and action oozed of a sex appeal that my erection roared back to life in response to.

“Poor baby, working so hard for mommy’s sake.” Ok, that was something I was … surprisingly fine with?

Fuck, why does this woman fuck with my head so much?

“Does my baby want a reward?”

“I’m—” it had to be my unfamiliarity with this territory, or maybe a better word was discomfort, that gave me a moment of hesitation. “—um, yes, please.”

“Yes please, what?”

I knew where this was going, but resisting seemed meaningless. Rather, resisting it seemed more painful than trying to change her mind. “Yes please, mommy.”

The word felt incredibly foreign on my tongue and was probably noticeable by how awkwardly it tumbled out of my mouth. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to faze Tiffany; whether it was she didn’t mind or because of how clearly lustful she still was, I wasn’t sure of.

“Good boy.”

I watched her from my seated position, legs splayed out towards her while leaning back on my arms that were planted on the slightly tussled blanket of the suite’s bed, as she prowled towards me like a hungry cheetah stalking its prey. Usually, I liked to be the cheetah, but with Tiffany, everything felt different. It just felt so natural to play the prey. Hell, I wanted her to hunt me down.

Wait.

I caught myself with that thought.

What the fuck? Why did I just think that?

It felt so incomprehensible to me, the supernatural phenomenon that was Tiffany’s sex appeal. The lustful gaze in her eyes, the seductive way she carried her sinfully sultry figure, the confidence in her husky voice, the sheer desire and aphrodisia in her every movement, her full, red lips, her large and striking eyes, her ample bust peeking through the ruffled top of her dress, the soft curves of her hips and the wider curve of her romp—was it one of these things, or a combination of all of them? Submitting went against everything I thought I knew about myself, but perhaps the more frightening thing was that I welcomed it.

She stopped while hovering a few inches above me, her eyes directed straight down at my crotch. So, it felt pretty fair to stare slightly down and forward, right into the more-than-eyeful of tits that her tousled top bared to me. I could very easily tell that she was probably a B-cup, but they were somehow infinitely more enchanting than the C-cups and D-cups I was used to.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe B-cups were great too. Or, maybe it was just Tiffany—maybe it was simply the fact that they were hers that drew my eyes towards them.

“Damian, baby, help me with this?”

I snapped out of the trance I was in, my eyes falling further down and falling on Tiffany, struggling with my belt.

“Sure thing.”

Her brows furrowed, her lips pulling into a pointed frown. “You mean, ‘yes, mommy’.”

“Um—” The reminder of my unfamiliarity with this type of roleplay hit me again, but the thought that this would only be a concern for tonight put my mind a little bit more at ease. “—yes, mommy.”

Shortly after my belt flew off, so too did my pants and boxers, leaving my hardened cock pointed straight at the ceiling of the luxurious hotel room. “Aww, poor baby, were you holding this in the entire time?”

I couldn’t get over the motherly sympathetic tone she was employing nor the slight pout on her lips, nor the strangest thing: how much it turned me on.

What the fuck? Am I secretly a sub?

“Um—” I stuttered, my mind slowly trying to piece together the ‘appropriate’ things to say in our current roleplay, “—y-yes, it hurts so much mommy.” Just saying those words, completely undirected, was so cringe-inducing that I nearly physically reacted to them, but seeing the reward in Tiffany’s face lighting up in reaction to them blew that embarrassment away.

“Does my baby want mommy to give the booboo a kiss?”

I nodded. “Please, mommy, it hurts so much.”

The words weren’t entirely false either; my penis was already pretty stiff from seeing Tiffany cum like that, but experiencing the reality-defying whirlwind of Tiffany’s lustful demeanor stiffened my dick even more, to the point of pain.

“Of course, sweetie.” She hardly waited for my nod in response before lowering her head to my crotch, holding her hair with her left hand while the other rested on my thigh to stabilize herself. My breath hitched as she stopped centimeters from my erect cock, the hot air puffing out from her lips hitting my hardened shaft. “Oh my, my baby has grown really big, hasn’t he?”

I grimaced, my legs tensing as her velvety lips brushed the sensitive tip of my dick. Instantly, a sliver of precum trickled out in response; and, just as quickly, Tiffany’s lips parted, her tongue darting out to collect the fluid. “We can’t be wasting any of that, can we?”

The smile she shot at me following, her lips pulled into an upward curve and her eyes disappearing into crescent moons curved the opposite direction, made me completely forget who I was or what I was doing for a second.

“You have such a beautiful smile.”

It took a few seconds to realize the words had come out of my mouth, but when I did, the realization came too late.

Shit, I forgot again.

I opened my mouth to correct myself, but Tiffany beat me to it. “You’re such a sweetie, Damian. Let mommy give you a reward.” Her left hand left the back of her head, her silky jet-black hair subsequently tumbling down the sides of her head, the fingers of her right hand gingerly wrapping themselves around the circumference of my cock. I let out a hiss as her slim digits enclosed it in a tight embrace, her soft palms caressing its length. And while the feeling of her fingers tightening around my dick was pleasurable in and of itself, the visual made it all the sexier: her strikingly flawless face centimeters away from the object of her adoration, her piercing eyes magnetized to it, her beautiful fingers pressed firmly against the now fully erect penis, her lips slowly parting and the gorgeous sheen of hair framing her face as she began to pump it.

“Fu—” This time, I was able to catch myself before I let loose the swear that was building up inside my throat. “—mommy, that feels so good.”

“I’m glad. Do you mind helping me hold my hair, baby?” I happily obliged, reaching around her to collect the amazingly soft curtain of black surrounding her face and pulling it into a ponytail behind her. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome, mommy.”

I barely noticed how fluidly the words came out of my mouth until after Tiffany resumed her handjob. But I didn’t have anything to worry about, it was just Tiffany that was making me like this. The pleasure and satisfaction I felt being the more dominant and controlling one with all the other women I’ve fucked was very real. I wasn’t a closet-sub, it was just Tiffany that was fucking with my head.

Right?

“My baby boy really has grown so big, mommy is very proud of you~”

“Thank you, mommy.”

My fists were clenched and my voice came out strained. The handjob she was giving me, in combination with the lascivious visual of her beautiful face placed so close to my dick and the amount of her tits that became visible from the low-cut of her dress hanging down from her position hovering over me, caused something that should’ve been just foreplay to bring me closer to the edge than I would’ve ever expected a simple handjob to be capable of.

“Did you enjoy mommy’s milk from before?”

“Milk?” My eyes again landed on her tits, her already-erect nipples all but visible with the angle she was at. “Oh!” She meant her cum, not from her boobs. It was a shame, too, because almost since I first laid my eyes on her and that more-than-ample cleavage, I was wondering what those puppies would feel like in my hands. And my mouth. “Yes, I did, mommy.”

The knowing grin Tiffany shot in return told me that she was privy to how much I was lusting after her milk jugs, replying, “Do you want more of mommy’s milkies?”

I nodded fervently. “Yes, please.” My haste stemming from impatience resulted in my blowing over my established role, something that didn’t by well with Tiffany. Her eyes furrowing was the catalyst for remembering, leading me to add, “—mommy.”

Her lips curled back up into a content smile. “Then, you’ll have to pay mommy back by giving her your milk too, ok?”

I nodded with equal fervor. “I’ll try my best, mommy.”

She shot me another heart-stopping eye smile. “Good boy.” Her hands left his penis and down to the hem of her dress, tugging at the spaghetti-strap top to no avail. Her smile turned into a frown, becoming more pronounced with each unsuccessful tug of her dress.

Damn it, she’s too drunk after all?

The sobering thought faded to the background when Tiffany decided to change tactics, her hands traveling up her body, her fingers looping around the top of her dress and pulling it down. Her boobs popped out, the bounce from the release of tension after being freed. I felt my eyes glazing over, gaze stopping at the plump, marshmallow-y mounds of flesh sitting on her chest, adorned with light-chocolate colored areola and darker, swollen nipples sitting atop the peaks.

Actually, you know what, B-cups are just as amazing as C-cups or D-cups. I’ve definitely been too picky in the past.

“Damian, help?”

There was something about the cute sight of her pouty visage contrasting with the erotic sight of her bare breasts sitting a few inches below those pouting lips that stirred something within me. The usage of cuteness in bed was something that always turned me off—women who employed it on me in the past have led me to stop everything on more than one occasion—but with Tiffany, it only turned me on more. At this point, I had grown tired of asking myself why this was happening. It was much easier to just accept it and let myself feel my arousal deepen one level still.

What I was shocked by was how long it had taken me to realize Tiffany needed help with her dress, and how I hadn’t offered to help already. “How rude of me—” Shit, that’s not how I’m supposed to be speaking. “—I mean, of course, mommy.”

I had been so distracted by her tits that I had completely disregarded her struggling, disregarded basic bedside manners, in favor of staring at her boobs. But honestly, I felt like I couldn’t even be blamed; even if they were on the smaller side, they were somehow just as sexy, if not more so. The fullness of its shape, the tautness of the skin, the plush appearance of its texture, the purity of its snowy-white color, the contrasting almond-colored areola and the even more contrastingly darker-brown teats standing up and away proudly from her body, how squeezable and bitable the enlarged buttons looked—remembering the roleplay Tiffany had casted us in was the only thing preventing me from jumping on her and ravishing them.

When the dress came off her body, I couldn’t help but find myself enamored with her legs next; they were on the slim side but had clear hints of muscles in her upper thighs, sloping upwards gracefully for what seemed like miles before curving out at her hips. The skin was just as unblemished, taut, and a perfect shade of pearly-white as the rest of her body, with slight hints of bruising on her knees that made my imagination go wild as their origins. Her legs were just as pleasant to touch as they were to look at; as my hands ran over her shins, up to her knees, and up to her thighs, I relished in the addictingly soft texture of her skin. “Your—mommy’s legs are so pretty.”

“Thank you, baby, but if you want mommy’s help, then you’ll have to be patient for a little bit longer.” I nodded, pushing myself back into a sitting position on the bed as Tiffany shifted into a kneeling position, tucking her legs under her thighs. “Come here,” she said, gently patting her lap. I obeyed immediately, turning around and resting my head on her soft thighs, face-up, with the rest of my body splayed out away from her, my legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

Part of me still felt weird obeying the commands of this mysteriously powerful woman, like some kind of needy puppy, but the bigger part of me didn’t care about dignity, shame, what I thought I knew of my own identity, any of it. Was it truly some kind of magnetic power she had, that drew in an dominated the will of any man she wanted, or was I just too lost in my own lust? Or, was there even a difference?

My obedience was rewarded when Tiffany, after seeing that I was sufficiently settled in her lap, leaned down and over me, presenting the object of my desire just moments ago inches away from my face. I craned my head up but was stopped by the woman whose lap my head was laying upon. “Before milkies, promise mommy that Damian will say when his milk is about to come out. Ok?”

“Yes, mommy,” I replied, nodding eagerly to her proposition.

“Good boy. Here you—ah!” Something between a moan and a squeal interrupted her as I took the erect nub into my mouth and rolled my tongue over it. My hands came around, all but sinking into the plush texture of her tits.

Fuck, they’re so soft…

I became so preoccupied with her boobs that I barely noticed Tiffany’s hands snaking down my torso, only aware of the fact when it stopped at the stubbles of my freshly shaven privates. Without warning, the dainty digits of her hand wrapped around my dick, the resulting surge of pleasure causing me to accidentally squeeze her boobs with an unintended amount of extra force.

“Do you like mommy’s boobs?”

I nodded, each pump of her hand sending a surge of pleasure throughout my body, my toes curling in response and my brain slowly but surely filtering out everything else but the feeling of her tits on my lips and hands and the feeling of her hand on my cock. It didn’t take long for her to pick up where she left off with, inching ever closer to the edge of the peak of the climax her hands were pushing me towards. Where her boobs lacked in surface area, she made up for in the quality of the skin and the softness of the mounds of fat. They gave way so easily to my hands and to my lips, but to also hear the slight moans and sighs that would escape from Tiffany’s lips as my tongue drew circles around her areola and rolled across her nipples and my teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin and the swollen teat.

The main source of my impending orgasm, as delectable her tits were, was her hand; they were tireless, barely stopping to rest, her hand pumping the shaft about twice the width of her hand while the other gently patted my head, as if comforting a nursing baby. Occasionally, she would stop to rest by readjusting her grip at the base and cupping my balls before resuming.

“These feel so heavy. Did you save it all up just for mommy?” I nodded again, hoping she didn’t need audial confirmation. Thankfully, she didn’t, resuming shortly after with a, “That makes mommy really happy. Don’t worry, baby, mommy will make sure to take in all of Damian’s hard work and patience.”

It wasn’t much longer after that when I notified Tiffany of my impending orgasm. To my dismay, Tiffany lifted her upper torso up, scooting to edge of the bed that my legs were dangling off of.

“Make sure to give it all to mommy, ok?” I nodded, fighting back the urge to push her head that was already closing in on my dick the rest of the way. “We don’t want to waste any of it, do we?”

“No, mommy.”

“Good boy.”

The moment my cock pierced her lips and sunk into her hot, tight mouth, I just about lost it right then and there. “Agh—” an incoherent mumble-moan escaped my lips, my fingers and toes curling even more than they were already. Inch by inch, the soft membrane of her lips advanced downwards along my shaft. Inch by inch, more of my penis entered the moist cavern of her mouth, and inch by inch, her tongue lined the surface area of my dick with her saliva. “Fuck—” Shit, forgot, no swearing— “—mommy, it feels so good…”

She tiled her head up, eyes shooting a quick smile at me. She barely got halfway down before she came back up for air, her right hand taking over in slathering the rest of the length with her saliva. “Naughty boy, no swearing. I’m afraid mommy will have to punish you later.”

“I’m sorry, mommy…”

In my peripheral vision, I could see her left hand reaching downwards, buried under her legs. However, visual confirmation wasn’t even necessary to know she was fingering herself; the wet sounds of her fingers pressing and pushing against her sex were evidence enough. And while I liked to think that it was the prospect of giving my dick a blowjob that brought her to such a state, the more realistic explanation was that the drug was still affecting her; after all, her face had taken upon a red hue again. However, the difference was that this time, she didn’t have a desperation on her face; this time, it was a deepened state of arousal.

Tiffany dribbled some more saliva onto my cock, proceeding to rub the slightly viscous fluid along the shaft while her red, succulent lips planted kisses along my length. After a while, satisfied with the amount of lubricant on my dick, her right hand reaching down to cup my balls while her tongue pressed against the long-side of my cock, starting from the base and sliding upwards and ending with a smooch at the tip. There was something immensely arousing about seeing her beautiful face in such close proximity to my dick that seemed to almost make her already small face even smaller and seeing the shimmering length of my cock occasionally accidentally tapping her slim jawline that created an impatience inside me. But it was her next words that transformed that impatience to something else. “It feels so big in my mouth, I wonder how I’ll fit this in my pussy…”

The words seemed to be her inner thoughts accidentally spoken out loud, or maybe a mumble that was spoken a notch too loud. Still, no matter how many times I had been told something similar, no matter how many other women had complimented my dick, hearing the words from Tiffany’s lips felt different. I could feel my chest swelling with pride and my lips stretching out into a satisfied smile—sure, it wasn’t the biggest one out there, but in that moment, it certainly felt that way.

Tiffany repeated the action a few more times before transitioning the smooch at the tip to deepthroating.

“Agh—” I stopped myself before I let out another swear, the suddenness of the action nearly causing me to peak right then and there. In one fell swoop, nearly three-quarters of my dick disappeared into her mouth, leaving me desperately clutching onto the thread that kept me from my orgasm. “Mommy—” words became difficult to form, my mind quickly being filled with nothing but the pleasure from the tight ring of her throat pressing against the circumference of my dick in coordination with the masterful work of her tongue dancing around it.

I wanted to revel in the sensation more. I wanted to continue feeling the immeasurably intense pleasure from feeling her lips now tightly pressed against the base of my shaft, from the tightness of her throat, from the wetness and warmth of her masterful tongue, but every passing second unraveled that thread line by line. When she started moving, her head bobbing up and down and her tongue gliding along the length of my shaft, gagging sounds filling the suite and tears cascading down her tightly closed eyes joined only by the increasingly louder moist sounds of her fingers against her slick, the thread I was so desperately clutching suddenly caught fire.

“—mommy—” The words were stuck in my throat, my mind too preoccupied with the Herculean task of holding back my orgasm to be able to form words properly. “—coming!”

The release of the buildup of tension inside my nethers, the release of the burden on my mind in trying to hold back—while both were cathartic, nothing felt better than the explosive release deep in her mouth, the powerful jet of my seed hitting the back of her throat like a water hose. Her cheeks bulged even more, a sound between a gag and a cough erupting from her throat, rapidly blinking away the tears in her eyes as stream after stream poured into her mouth, but not once did she let up. Her lips remained tightly sealed around my cock, her throat flexing impressively as it took on the assault.

When it ended, Tiffany pulled away, her left hand emerged from down south so that the backs of both hands could be used to wipe away the tears that had been collecting in her eyes. “I-I’m sorry, mommy…”

Her eyes blinked open. “What’s wrong?”

“I made mommy cry…”

I had to admit, Tiffany’s acting ability was top-notch. I was pretty good at acting myself, but the motherly concern that overtook her face in the face of my downtrodden, sorrowful expression made me almost believe it was sincere. “No! Aw baby,” she cooed, joining me on the bed and directing my head onto her bosom, “Those weren’t sad tears, those were happy tears! You really are spoiling your mommy so much, giving mommy so much of your tasty milk.”

“R-Really?”

She met my gaze with a happy nod. “Yes! But are you sure you gave mommy everything?”

I nodded. “I really tried my best, mommy.”

She separated herself from me, getting back on her knees at the edge of the bed. “Let’s see if Damian is telling the truth or not~” She slotted herself between my legs once again, and, with one boob in each hand, settled them on either side of my cock.

Even though I could feel the post-orgasm fatigue start to hit, seeing her surround my dick with her ample bust gave me a bit of concern. They weren’t large enough to smother the entirety of my size, but that didn’t stop the last two strands of cum to spill out onto her tits after squeezing them firmly against my cock with her hands, starting at the base and working her way out in a milking fashion.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

“I-I’m sorry, mommy!” The panic in my own voice caught me by surprise. Why was I so immersed in the roleplay? “I-I didn’t mean to! I’ll do better next time!”

Instead of reprimanding me, Tiffany looked up at me with a soft smile, scooping up the viscous bodily fluid and directing it into her mouth. Her luscious, red lips closed around her slim digits, disappearing into that dark cavern only to slide straight back out with a nearly audible pop! “It’s ok baby, as long as you keep your promise next time,” she said, her fingers running over the top of her bust again, making sure to direct every last droplet of my seed into her mouth.

I nodded eagerly. “I will!”

Tiffany smiled, licking her lips with an equal amount of eagerness and content. “Even though it wasn’t everything, it was a lot: feeling Damian’s thick, creamy load filling up my mouth and going down my throat was very nice. Thank you for the treat, baby.”

“It was only because mommy’s soft, pretty lips felt really good.”

“Oh, really?” I nodded. “Do you really like mommy’s soft, pretty lips?” I nodded again, letting her direct me back onto the bed, shifting so that I was properly aligned with it, my head all but sinking into the pillow of the luxurious suite. “Do you want more of mommy’s soft, pretty lips?”

“Can I?”

A giggle escaped from Tiffany, probably from the eagerness in my voice and the starstruck attitude I injected into it. Although, while I could definitively say I was acting, it was also true that my real feelings weren’t far from the character I was portraying. “Of course,” she replied, swinging her legs to the other side of my waist so that they were straddling it, hovering a few inches above me with hands flanking both sides of my head on the pillow. “Come here, baby.”

I didn’t know how it was possible, but her lips felt even better than how they looked or imagined. Impossibly soft, just the right amount of sweet, warm, slightly moist—even other things, like the heat from her face, the creamy texture of her palms caressing the sides of my head, her eyelashes brushing against my closed eyelids, the subtle curves of her voluptuous body pressing against mine, my mind had only the capacity to think and process Tiffany. The stillness of the room only interrupted by the sounds of our lips sensually pressing against and massaging each other, the subtle perfume she was wearing that had mixed slightly with a lingering scent of alcohol, the softness of not only her lips but her entire body firmly wrapped up and tangled in mine, the deep pants for air when she briefly disconnected our lips and the hot puffs of breath that tickled my face, the somehow simultaneously sweet yet seductive smile she shot at me before reconnecting our lips … if someone had asked me my own name in that moment, I probably wouldn’t have been able to answer.

It was after Tiffany’s second breath for air that she prodded my lips with her tongue, a request I readily complied with. While the kiss had already been getting hot and heavy, the action caused an instantaneous spike in its heatedness.

“Mmm…”

The beautiful noise emanating from Tiffany’s throat echoed in the hotel suite, tilting her head and leaning in, her velvety lips massaging mine, her tongue running against mine and brushing against my lips. We kissed—or rather, attempted to devour the other’s lips—with a wild abandon and desperate passion that might make one think our lives depended on it. In that moment, however, that was all that mattered: her curvaceous body shifting and squirming against mine, her lips pressing and moving in concert with mine, her tongue dancing expertly in perfect synchronization with mine. Everything else in the world fell away, even the bed beneath us.

When Tiffany next came up for breath, I could also see the wildness apparent in her actions in her eyes as well. However, it quickly was replaced with a laughter. “Oops, I accidentally gave you some of my lipstick.”

“I don’t mind.”

In the moment, I had become so preoccupied with Tiffany’s lips that I wasn’t aware how hard I had become until Tiffany herself pointed it out. “You’re hard again.”

“So I am.”

“Does baby want another kiss down there?”

She was the one who was asking, but I could tell she was all but ready to do the deed. After all, she had already shifted herself such that my dick was pointed straight at the entrance of her burning core. And, while normally, I might’ve teased the woman who was sharing the bed with me and made her beg, this was Tiffany. Even if the make-out session seemed to also make her forget about the roleplay we were doing for a few seconds, obeying her every command could only be described as second nature. I wanted—I needed—to appease her, to please her, even at the cost of my dignity and pride. “Can mommy do that?”

“Of course!”

“Even though mommy’s lips are up here?”

Tiffany smiled in response. The following question was one that I have been waiting for ever since I decided to play along; but, as eager as I was, I could tell Tiffany was doubly eager for it. “Do you want mommy to show you?”

“Yes!”

No matter how obvious it was that Tiffany was holding herself back, as I could surmise from the loud gasp that escaped her lips when, while her hand directed my penis to her slit, its head poked at it briefly and threatened to enter, she stayed true to her promise and removed it just as quickly. Biting back the grimace and the swear that threatened to fly out of my mouth quickly became the name of the game as her flopping wet vaginal lips pressed against my stiff cock, effectively ‘kissing’ it.

“Agh—”

“Hm? What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy…” Edging was a tactic I was very familiar with as I often employed it with the women I fucked, and the results were often amazing. Of course, when I was doing the teasing, I felt the impatience too, but the effort of holding myself back felt worth it in the end. After all, I wasn’t only after the great sex that followed: watching the woman squirm and beg beneath me was just as much of a desired result as the sex itself.

I wondered if these were the thoughts that were going through Tiffany’s head as she continued kissing my dick with her lips down south. “Does it feel good, sweetie?”

I nodded. “Mo-mommy’s lips feel really good…”

I always figured that the person on the receiving side of the edging had it worse, but I didn’t realize the impatience was this much worse. It felt like it was taking every ounce of strength and willpower to not grab her pillowy ass and shove all six-and-a-half inches inside her all at once. However, I could see the impatience on Tiffany’s face too: the same deep shade of red from back when she was trying to force herself onto me in the club overtook her face, her gasps and sighs gradually growing in volume as more and more of my cock became covered with her bodily fluids.

“Oh sweetheart, you feel so big and thick…”

The softness of her thighs that trapped my member, the rolling of her hips that caused her folds, sticky with her own precum, to slide along the length of my shaft, it was all doing wonders for the pleasure and lust that was quickly building with every passing moment. Even the hot puffs of air hitting my face and the pillowy sensation of her boobs pressed against my chest was aiding the process of deepening my arousal; but however much it made me want to slam her against the bed and fuck her into next Tuesday, I resisted. I could see her getting affected too, and it wasn’t before long when her patience, built up from when she first straddled my lap at the bar, finally broke.

“Fuck, mommy needs you so bad Damian…”

“What’s wrong, mommy?”

“Does my Damian want a baby brother or sister?”

Fuck.

Just the implication of the words made my dick twitch. Another rush of anticipation washed over my body, screaming at my muscles to move on the impulse.

Is she implying what I think she’s implying?

“Really?” I could only hope that the spike in my lust and impatience wasn’t present in my voice. “Yeah!”

“Then make sure to cum lots and lots inside mommy, ok?”

She barely gave me any time to respond before grabbing my cock and directing it straight into her pussy.

If it wasn’t abundantly clear how riled up Tiffany was before, the evidence was now screaming in my face—quite literally, in the form of Tiffany’s loud reaction to succumbing to an orgasm from the simple act of inserting barely half of my length inside her.

“Damian’s cock is stretching mommy’s tiny little pussy out so much! Ah, it feels so good, it feels so good!”

The orgasm seemed to only become more intense as it dragged on, the clenching of her vaginal walls against my shaft making it harder to advance. It seemed to suffice for her intents and purposes, riding out her climax with the upper four inches of my cock buried firmly inside her heat, letting loose a string of mewls and loud moans as she did so.

And, watching the spectacle, I couldn’t help but be entirely enraptured. Out of all the women I’ve seen ride out their orgasms on my cock, Tiffany had to be the most arousing, most beautiful woman of them all: even as she screamed, her lips appeared just as full and luscious; even as her face gave in to her lust, it still maintained its mystical beauty; even as her tits jiggled slight in response to her manic bouncing, they looked no less voluminous and perky; even as her legs tensed, the slight muscle definition to her thighs added to their appeal; even as her juices were splattering out of her pussy, the visual of her flopping folds deepened my arousal even more.

“Mom-mommy? Are you ok?” I wasn’t sure how I managed to stay in my ‘role’. Or, maybe, I did know but didn’t want to admit it.

“Sorry, honey,” she replied, her answer coming out as a gasp, her orgasm having finally subsided, “Mommy is fine. What do you think about mommy’s pussy?”

“It—It feels really good, mommy!”

She simply smiled in response, taking a deep breath before pushing the rest of my length inside her. Another slew of moans and sighs exploded from her lips, shuddering in tandem with me as my cock fully hilted her. When she was finally able to calm herself down, she opened her eyes, leaning forward and planting her hands on my chest. “Now’s time for that punishment.”

“Whaat?”

“Be a good boy and accept their punishment, ok? Mommy will give you a reward after.”

“Oh … ok, mommy,” I replied with a reluctantly obedient voice, a pouty voice I probably hadn’t used since I was twelve.

With that, Tiffany shifted her position such that her clit brushed against my groin. The contact alone caused her to gasp, which quickly turned into a moan as she pressed her sensitive nub onto the stubbles of my recently-shaven pubic hair.

“What a good boy, keeping yourself so clean…”

As if the suffocating tightness of her pussy wasn’t enough, as if its blistering heat and the wetness from having been brought to orgasm twice already wasn’t enough, as if the grinding motion she began doing wasn’t enough, the visual of her stimulating her clit by rubbing it against my crotch more than made up for the lack of any stimulation on me. The slight jiggling of her tits as she rocked back and forth, the way her Cupid’s bow lips parted as gasps and moans slipped out of her mouth, the swaying of her silky, jet-black hair in tandem with her movement, the pure and utter ecstasy that deepened with every passing moment etched onto her face … it was all too mesmerizing to notice the passage of time until her hands brushed up against mine, which were lazily laying on her legs.

“Do you mind helping mommy a little?”

The question snapped me back to reality. “Um, of—of course, mommy!”

She slowed down slightly, directing my hands to her bosom. “Damian said he really likes mommy’s boobs, right?” I nodded. “Then, here you go,” she said, placing each hand on one of her boobs, “you can play with them however you want.”

The urge to do so was an urge I was holding back the entire time, having only gotten worse after seeing them swaying so much mere inches from my face, but finally being granted permission to do so unlocked a fervor Tiffany was definitely not expecting.

“Thank you, mommy!”

I pressed my index finger and thumb into her areola, the rest of my fingers resting on the pillowy surface of her tits while they rubbed gentle circles around the sensitive skin. The squirming and moaning from Tiffany increased drastically, shifting one hand to the center of my chest while the other dove down south into the tight connection of her labia against the perimeter of my cock. It was the wet sounds of flesh rubbing against flesh that let me know that she was rubbing the widely spread-open pussy lips that were engulfing the base of my cock, something that turned me on even further.

“Damian…”

Somehow having withstood the temptation of pinching those delectable nipples that sat at the peak of her tits, the tauntingly squeezable nubs swaying to and fro inches from my face, instead electing to build up the suspense by continuing to rub and massage the sensitive skin around it.

“Oh, sweetie, your fingers feel so good…”

“Am I doing well?”

She nodded fervently. “Yes, you’re making mommy very happy, but…”

Tiffany interrupted herself with another moan, a sound that had been gradually turning more and more impatient. “Hm?” I replied innocently, as if I didn’t know the exact cause of her suffering.

“…but you’re also being a very naughty boy right now.”

I completely stopped. “What? What am I doing wrong, mommy?”

Tiffany opened her eyes, managing to shoot me a gentle smile. “Do you see mommy’s big, swollen nipples?”

I redirected my eyes to them, nodding. “Is—Is mommy going to punish me again for being naughty?”

“No, but only if you starting paying more attention to those too.”

“Oh. Ok!” Shortly following those words, both sets of index fingers and thumbs surrounded the engorged, light-brown buttons and squeezed them.

“Oh!” The electrified moan that jetted out her lips mirrored the shock that surged through her system in response, her arms and legs suddenly tensing and her eyes fluttering shut. “More!”

Just watching her succumb to pleasure was reward enough, but the feeling of the velvety, swollen nipple giving way to my fingers and just how enjoyable it was to squeeze them added onto that pleasure tenfold. That seemed the catalyst for everything intensifying: the vigor with which she grinded her clit against the stubbles of pubic hair on my groin, the volume and frequency of her moans, even the wet sounds of her fingers playing with her labia and rubbing the base of my cock that her labia was encircled around. Although the lack of stimulation for me might’ve ordinarily softened my penis, the sheer spectacle of the lascivious lady relishing in the ecstasy that was so clearly written on her face and in her body that I found myself getting more aroused with each passing moment.

Making sure to switch between kneading motions, rolling the erect nub in my fingers, and pinching them, it didn’t feel much longer until Tiffany finally announced her climax. “Oh, oh god, sweetheart, mommy’s cumming!”

This time, her orgasm came out in more gradual waves, like a boiling kettle with water leaking out the top. Tiffany’s mouth didn’t stop the entire time, letting out a noise between a moan, a scream, and a pant, riding out her climax vigorously, her entire body shaking as more and more of her sticky fluids washed over my cock, bits and slivers leaking out after coming down from that peak.

“Oh … oh fuck…”

The minute or so I spent watching her reveling in lust and ecstasy only made me harder, but was thankfully experienced enough to not let it control me, letting her take a few breathers with her head hanging over my chest and her hands planted on my abdomen.

In the minute or so it took for the Korean-American celebrity to recover, I simply watched her regain her bearings, shuddering every so often as a bit more of her juices trickled out of our hot connection. From watching her cum for the second time that night, I was certainly rearing to go again, and it definitely didn’t help that the fleshy, tight walls of Tiffany’s vagina was still squeezing my cock like it was trying to milk it. However much I managed to keep my lust in check, I could feel it slipping by the second.

“Wow … you have a really nice body…”

It was an out-of-character statement, or so the tone of her voice suggested, but I wasn’t about to let it slip away without my reward first. “Mommy, was I a good boy?”

Tiffany seamlessly slipped back into the role, smiling and nodding. “Yes, you were. Mommy promised you a reward if you were a good boy, didn’t she?” I nodded, eyes shining with anticipation. “Do you like mommy’s pussy?”

I nodded again. “It’s so tight, but it feels good.”

Tiffany giggled at that. “Anyone would feel this tight with how big my baby boy is.”

“Oh.”

“Would Damian like to feel better?” I let the excitement I bleed onto my lips. “Would Damian like to cum inside mommy’s pussy?”

This time, my excitement translated into a twitch of my dick. Oh fuck. Was she really letting me do that?

After what has basically amounted to soaking inside Tiffany for the better part of five, maybe ten, minutes, I was raring to have a go at fucking this pussy that has been strangling my cock this entire time. But the prospect of being able to cum inside? That was beyond any fantasy I usually allowed myself to have about my prospective woman for the night. “Yes!”

Tiffany smiled again. “Damian has been such a good boy, I think he deserves his reward.” She wasted no time in pleasantries, lifting her ass off my groin. A sharp breath blew past my teeth, the feeling of her moist vaginal walls gliding along my shaft sending a rolling wave of pleasure throughout my body. And, as quickly as she lifted herself off my dick, she slammed back down, the crisp sound of her plump ass slapping against my damp groin blending in with the groans and moans from both Tiffany and me.

“Ah—” she repeated the action, leaning forward a little more to give herself a better angle to ride me, “—you feel so big inside mommy, honey…”

It didn’t take me long to find her rhythm and match her riding motion with upward thrusts; my hands found themselves planted at her hips, my eyes wandering from watching the wanton expression on her face to watching the slight jiggle of her beautiful tits to watching the up-and-down motion of her labia along my dick, unsure which sight was a more sexually appealing spectacle.

“Shit … you feel so good…”

“Damian, language…” Tiffany’s weak protest fell on deaf ears, all our efforts now focused on the other’s reproductive organ.

Having become lost in my pleasure and watching Tiffany revel in hers, or maybe it was Tiffany fucking with my mind, I hadn’t even realized we had passed the limit of Tiffany’s physical capabilities until I began to notice the increased depth and frequency of her chest’s heaving.

But I wasn’t ready to slow down. Not by a long shot. Not when things were finally starting to heat up.

“Jellybean, I—what are you doing?” Tiffany’s arms buckled as my hands, now placed on her shoulders, pulled her body towards me. “Damian, you’re—” I didn’t listen, Tiffany cutting herself off with a squeal as I flipped our positions on the bed in an instant. From the sparkle in her eye, I could tell the display of physical dominance turned her on. “Damian, you’re being very naughty—”

Even her protest was weak, which only turned weaker as I began pounding her into the bed.

“But isn’t this easier, mommy?”

“Damian, listen to mommy…” the last vestiges of her attempt to maintain her role as the dominant rapidly dwindled to nothing, her own voice even betraying her as a slew of moans erupted from her throat. “Oh, oh god…” Seeing Tiffany start breaking down, especially with how staunchly her stance was in preserving the roleplay, caused a swell of pride and power to balloon inside my chest. The strict ‘mother’, now reduced to a moaning, mewling mess, at the whims of my cock violating every inch of her wanton pussy … in my many years of living and countless women I’ve bedded, few, if any, sights compared in sexiness and how great it felt to know that I was the cause of it.

“See? Isn’t this better?”

Tiffany shook her head slightly, her legs wrapping around my waist. “B-But I was supposed to b-be rewarding you.”

“You are.”

The suffocating tightness was only counteracted by the sheer wetness of her pussy, well-lubricated from her previous three orgasms. Added to that was an overwhelming heat that only added to the heat of our synchronized motion created a symphony of moans, damp skin slapping against each other, the squeaking of the luxurious hotel suite’s bed, and the panting that came between the moans.

“Damian, oh—oh, fuck!”

Tiffany’s moan turned into a high-pitched squeal as my fingers pushed aside her folds to lightly pinch the hardened nub north of our connection.

“You like that?”

“Yes, I—fuck!”

I pinched it again, with a bit more pressure, causing Tiffany’s back to arch well off the bed.

“Hmm, you’re so sexy, Tiff.”

I leaned forward, leaving my fingers at her clit while my lips found hers. While our previous kisses could be described as messy, it didn’t hold a candle to this kiss; it was as wild and sloppy as it was wet and loud, the constant smacking of our lips quickly joining the cacophony of sounds that were echoing throughout the suite.

“Mmm…”

A deep, guttural moan reverberated out from Tiffany’s throat, her lips unrelenting in their counter-assault on mine. The wet, velvety texture of her lips glided against mine, made more difficult by how the force of my thrusts were causing her body to shake, but they never separated for more than a second.

“So desperate…”

I could feel one hand tightly gripping the back of my head and the other, my neck, the tensing of her legs and the continual strings of muffled moans vibrating from her throat reaffirming the two words I managed to gasp out. However, as accusatory as the words were, the same could be said about me: but with how sweet her lips were, and how soft they felt against mine, and how expertly they caressed and rubbed against and massaged my lips, how could I not become so desperate? I was already kissing her, but I still needed more.

“So good…”

My tongue brushed against the entrance to her lips and instantly, was allowed access. Tilting my head for a better angle, I deepened the kiss, feeling the powerful pink muscle in her mouth coming out to meet my own. My nose was nearly poking her cheek, the hot puffs of air on mine telling me hers was in a similar position, the subtle aroma of her subtle perfume wafting into my nose.

Fuck, I’m going to go crazy.

I was thankful I was experienced enough to let my body go on auto-pilot, because I was beginning to feel dizzy with the overload of stimulation from all sources: from her silky legs wrapped around my wait, from her ample boobs pressed against my chest, from her scent being injected through my nostrils, from her vaginal walls gliding along my cock, from her luscious lips pressed firmly against mine, from her tongue dancing expertly around my tongue, from the squirming of her body as my finger continued to tease her clitoris—

I need a short break.

I pulled away, my hips slowing down considerably as I did so. “Sorry Tiff, I need—”

All my concerns for taking a break instantly vanished upon looking at her face: eyelids half-lidded, tongue now lolling out of her parted lips, chest heaving, the lower half of her body spasming at the orgasm that was currently wracking her body.

“I’m—fuck, I can’t—”

Damn, I knew I was good, but I’m not that good. That drug really is something else, huh?

It wasn’t intentional, but taking advantage of Tiffany in the state she was in felt wrong. Maybe Tiffany herself didn’t feel that way—maybe she was in as much ecstasy as she looked to be in—but having brought her to such a state not by my own efforts, but with the help of a drug, made it not as satisfying. I doubted she would’ve have gotten like this if she was with the man who fed her the drug, but knowing it wasn’t all me made me wonder how much of it was me.

“Ah, ah, fuck…”

The Korean-American celebrity gasped, her words breathy and her half-conscious state only marginally improving.

“Are you ok?”

Even after waiting a minute for her to calm down was evidently insufficient, as she continued to shake, albeit less violently. “Sorry, fuck…”

“Language, mommy.”

Tiffany grinned, the continual orgasms that had wracked her body and brought her to the half-conscious state she was in coming to a halt. “Sorry, baby.”

“Looks like you need a break too, with how many times you just came in a row.”

Tiffany’s eyes narrowed, biting the corner of her lower lip in reaction to the flash of lust that passed my eyes. “Not like you minded, you just continued fucking me like I was your personal fleshlight.”

“You’re saying that like you weren’t moaning up a storm, begging for more.”

“Oh, I never said I didn’t mind.”

Those words, the seductive voice she spoke with, and the sexy smirk that followed, nearly blew away all of the restraint I was employing.

Fuck, she’s dangerous.

“What made you stop?”

“Other than seeing your barely-conscious state?”

“Don’t kid yourself, I know it wasn’t me that caused you to stop. Otherwise, you would’ve stopped a long time ago.”

I almost laughed at that. “You almost sound proud of cumming so much.”

Tiffany shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I was getting overwhelmed.”

Caught off guard, Tiffany’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Hm?”

“The answer to your question,” I responded, “I stopped because I was getting a little overwhelmed. Although it looked like you were a little more overwhelmed than me. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“No reason to. It felt amazing.” I found myself grinning and opened my mouth to reply, but was cut short by Tiffany, “But I couldn’t help but notice: you didn’t cum yet, did you?”

“Did you really want me to fill up your sore, tiny little pussy badly?”

“Don’t you?” I felt my dick twitch in response to that again. Fuck, why is so so— “I already told you, didn’t I? Cum lots and lots inside mommy~” Tiffany’s response, the cuter, higher-pitched tone she used while doing the roleplay, and the suggestive smirk on her face, acted as the final straw that broke my restraint.

My hands went under her thighs and lifted her legs up, a surprised squeal coming out of Tiffany’s lips as I pushed them upwards into a ‘V’ shape. “You asked for this, so don’t blame me for not stopping until I empty my load inside you, mommy.”

“Yeah, fuck!”

The words came out half as a moan and half as a scream, her back arching as I drilled into her from a downward angle. My knees planted firmly into the mattress and my hands tightly gripping her legs as her body shook with the force of my thrusts, I watched as her face quickly gave way to lust. It didn’t take long for her hands to creep onto her chest to start massaging her own breasts, rubbing and kneading the supple skin like playdoh; her lips her parted, eyes closed, head thrown back, every part of her being proudly displaying the ecstasy she was feeling from the strong, rapid thrusts of my cock in and out of her womanhood.

“How badly do you want this?”

“So badly, mommy needs it, mommy needs your cum—ah!” the last bit of her sentence was cut short by a louder moan when the force of my thrusts caused my groin to press up against her clit. I took advantage of the contact, a grin appearing on my face from the mewling mess Tiffany became upon rubbing the sensitive nub.

The telltale signs of her pussy tightening around my cock and the increasing frequency of her moans told me all I needed to know about her next impending orgasm. “You gonna cum again?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t help it, my clit, you’re rubbing it so much, and your cock, oh god—oh, god!”

The sexy sight before me only made me want to work harder, of her body violently conceding to the nth orgasm of the night.

“What a naughty mommy, cumming so many times when she was supposed to be giving a reward to her baby boy.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she panted, barely able to formulate complete sentences from the heavy panting that was disabling her articulatory functions.

I didn’t give her any time to recover from her orgasm, continuing at the same speed and ferocity as before. The squeaking of the poor bed returned, the suite soon filled yet again with the combined sounds of our moans, my balls slapping her wet labia, and that noise, amplified more this time by the additional strength the position allowed me to use.

“God, fuck, it’s too much—!”

It wasn’t so much of me letting her ride out her orgasm as much as it was me chasing after my own. The buildup after all this time, the anticipation from the first time I laid my eyes on her and reigniting when she came onto me strongly in the club, was all coming to a head in every thrust that smashed the tip of my cock against her cervix.

I had a pretty good imagination, but actually fucking her was a million times better than any fantasy I had. Her perfect, beautiful visage ruined by the tongue nearly lolling out of her mouth, her stunning eyes rolled to the back of her head, her flawless, pale skin dotted with beads of sweat, her silky, jet-black hair strewn all over the blanket, all in a lecherous display before me. That wasn’t even to mention her beautiful voice screaming out in ecstasy, her soaking wet yet simultaneously suffocatingly tight pussy massaging the length of my cock as it glided along its walls, every thrust causing a spurt of her juices to land on my growingly damp groin, even the silky-smooth feeling of her tensing thighs in my left hand that defeated the vision I had looking at her.

“You love my cock so much, don’t you?”

With how much of my penis I was withdrawing from her entrance, it was only a matter of time before it slipped out; when it did, I held her thighs with my elbow while directing the drenched rod back inside her, another moan erupting from Tiffany’s lips.

“Yes~” the force used to fully sheath myself back inside her caused the fat on her ass to reverberate, her body jerking upwards in reaction to my vigor, “I love it so much, fuck!”

I took advantage of my hand’s position to reach between her folds and pinched her clit, causing another string of high-pitched moans to echo throughout the bedroom. “Does mommy really want another baby?”

She nodded frantically, yet another impending orgasm causing her to twist and squirm around. “Yes! Please!”

I desperately held my climax back, wanting to indulge in this moment for as long as I could withstand it, but everything was working against me: the sight of Tiffany reveling in her pleasure, the feeling of her body intertwined within mine, the beautiful melodies of moans and screams that continually flew out her lips, even the smell of sex that was gradually taking over my nostrils. “You’re a really slutty mommy, wanting to feel her baby’s cum fill up every crevice of her naughty little pussy, aren’t you?”

“Ye—Yes—Yes!” Tiffany, barely able to formulate words at this point, could only scream out the one word in agreement, the climax that took over her body shortly after turning her into a moaning, screaming mess.

I barely had time to let out a warning yell before my own climax took over, giving her clit one last firm pinch before feeling the tension inside my nethers untangle all at once.

“Fuck, it’s so hot!”

“Here’s your baby you wanted to much, mommy.” My right hand quickly went back to her thighs, holding onto them with both hands for leverage, using her orgasming pussy to ride out my own orgasm, each thrust pushing in the torrent of the sticky substance deep inside the singer’s womb.

“More, please, more!”

The combined climaxes and the resulting creampie brewing inside her evidently extended her stay at her peak, her ability to stay still rendered completely inert by her pleasure sending tidal wave after tidal wave of ecstasy throughout her entire body.

“Ugh, shit,” I grunted, feeling the last few strands of my seed being milked out by the convulsing, fleshy walls of her baby canal.

The following minute was filled with nothing but the sounds of our deep pants, me taking a minute to rest before letting her legs fall back onto the bed.

“Damian…”

“Hm?”

I looked up to see Tiffany beckoning for me. I obediently leaned forward, letting her hands wrap around my head and pull me down into another kiss. A pleased moan vibrated inside my throat, the feeling of her lips rubbing and massaging mine and her ample bosom smooshed against my chest barely able to fight against the refractory period softening my penis still inside her. She let me go after a few seconds, a lazy smirk on her lips. “Thanks, that was amazing. But, you’re still hard?”

I definitely had the stamina to go another round or two, but just a glance at the drooping eyes of Tiffany told me all I needed about what kind of a person she was: in her heart of hearts, a people pleaser.

I shook my head, only to be met with an indignant, “Yes you are, I can still feel how hard you are inside me.”

“Tiff, I think it’s best that we stop.”

“Huh?”

For all the ways the existence of Tiffany fucked with my mind, I was glad this part of me remained unchanged. “Look, you’re struggling to stay awake.”

“No, I—”

“It’s ok, we can continue next morning if you’re up for it.”

She adamantly shook her head, her lips forming into a pout. “I’m fine, you can keep fucking me if I fall asleep.”

Being too exhausted to resist, I had little issue removing her legs that had wrapped around my waist and pulled out of her. A shudder ran up her spine that escaped out her mouth as I did so, a stream of fluids leaking out of her red and battered hole. “Let’s clean you up first, don’t want any UTIs or anything.”

Tiffany continued to pout but obliged, letting me carry her to the bathroom to wash her privates. “Do you have any Plan B pills with you?”

She nodded. “In my purse.”

After feeding the pills to her, I finished drying her up before plopping her back in bed, under the covers. However, before I could leave, I was stopped by her hand, shooting out from under the blanket and grabbing my wrist.

“Don’t go.”

I turned back around in shock, as it seemed like Tiffany’s eyes had already closed when I pulled the blanket over her.

“I’m only going to the bathroom.”

Ordinarily, I would’ve had no problem staying the night with her, but not when it came to celebrities. In those cases, I usually opted to slip out the same night, not wanting to cause a scene or any problematic news articles. Doing so has only backfired once, and even then, the model came to understand my intentions after explaining them to her.

“You already tried that on me, remember?”

Damn it. Why didn’t I turn around when I said that?

“It’s better if I leave now, isn’t it?”

She frowned pointedly at that. “Why?”

My brows furrowed, pursing my lips in confusion. “Well, because you’re a celebrity, and you don’t want to be caught leaving a hotel with a man?”

“We can just leave at different times.” There was no denying that, but still, I didn’t want to take any risks when I didn’t have to. “Plus, you promised me, didn’t you?”

“Hm?”

“That we’d continue tomorrow morning.”

I sighed, the twitching of my mostly-flaccid cock catching the attention of Tiffany, who giggled at the sight. “Are you going to insist that I stay?”

She nodded. “Please?”

As much of an admitted playboy I was, the pleading eyes of a beautiful woman was something I had little resistance to; and when that beautiful woman was Tiffany, the queen of being able to bend me to her will, that resistance all but crumbled.

“I really can’t win against you, can I?”

The smile on my face transferred to Tiffany, who opened the blanket covers, scooting over and patting the space she made for me. “Come to mommy~”

I obliged, slipping under the covers with her and letting her wrap her arms around mine, pulling them against her naked breasts, and resting her head against my bare shoulder. While I had no problems with her snuggling up to me like that, I couldn’t help but become a little concerned. “Is that comfortable?”

With her eyes still closed, she replied, “If I don’t do this, you’ll run away after I fall asleep, won’t you?”

I found myself smiling. It was an option I was holding onto in the back of my mind, but Tiffany seemed to be too thorough to let me do that. “Busted.”

She smiled back. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

By the time I repeated the words to her, she had already fallen asleep, and not too long after, so did I.

[tylersnecktattoo]

With no safety net- Chapter 2

CHAPTER 1

Summary: Tyler, a black market mercenary falls for his friend’s cousin Amara. But how will it go when two people who carry so much shit from their past date each other? How will it go falling without that safety net?

Warnings: Smut! (male masturbation), mentions of smut, mentions of substance abuse and angst

Pairing: Tyler Rake x OFC Amara

Word count: 2.7 K

——————————————————————

CHAPTER 2: “took one fucking look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste”

The first thing coming to his senses as he enters the kitchen is the cool breeze brushing past his body, and then there she was with the window wide open as she was bent over it, fanning the most of her upper body she could reach without falling down from the window. She had also taken her sweatshirt off and hung it on the closest chair to her, leaving her in just her flared jeans and a figure hugging plain white tee. Seeing her like that with her newly revealed curves and being bent over in a position like that immediately got him feeling hot as he tried his hardest to not imagine the dirtiest shit going through his mind right now, but it was hard. Not when she just had to look so damn pretty. Bet she’d look prettier when I bend her over, pounding her until she squirts around my cock, he managed to think before he mentally slapped himself and told himself to fucking behave. She was his friend's unfairly stunning cousin and she certainly wasn’t some girl he could treat like the women he took home at night. This was different. She was different. He cleared his throat and filled himself a glass of water from the tap for the sake of the sounds so she was aware that she wasn’t alone anymore.

He sees her turn around and he gets a good look at her front body and how good that t-shirt is hugging her slim waist and her plump breasts as she looked at him with a slightly surprised face. Don’t fucking gawk at her tits like a fucking creep, he mentally cussed himself out as his blue eyes locked with hers again and gave her his signature charming smile. “Mind if I keep you company?”

The Australian hottie wants to be here? “I don’t really need it if you do it out of sympathy because you think I’m feeling so miserable all by myself here”

He chuckles, “not asking because of that”

She closes the window ajar. “Then you can take your seat” she gestures her hand to the chair as she puts her sweatshirt back on before sitting down. It was probably for the best since Tyler wouldn’t know what he’d fucking do if he kept seeing those big breasts without being able to do anything about it. At least not yet.

“You’re not living up to the hype, you know” he says as he sits down, facing her, hiding his amused grin by taking a sip of his water. Also because he had to cool himself down from that damn show she pulled earlier.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dylan. All this big talk about you being so fun to be around but I’m seeing just the opposite” He says with a teasing tone, locking eyes with her on purpose as he leans back on the chair, crossing his arms and giving her a view of his big arms.

Those biceps.

She lets out a huff with the tiniest hint of smile on her lips. “Then why are you sitting here with me?”

“Because I want to get to know you. And I think you’re beautiful”. Fuck, was that too risky?

She raises her eyebrows at him and lets out a soft chuckle. “Straight to the point, huh?”

He grins, “Always been”. Is she interested or is she just playing around?

“I like that”. Yep, she’s interested. She’s smiling at him and her body language is less tense as she’s more leaned forward against the table. “So you think my bland personality will make up for my good looks?”

He chuckles as he also leans forward against the table. “I never said you had a bland personality”

“The opposite of being a fun person? Yeah that’s what a bland personality is”

She keeps him on his toes. He likes that. Shit, what about her doesn’t he like?

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that” he says, aware that she’s just teasing him

She fully smiles now. “What did you mean then?”

“Just that maybe you weren’t feeling it today. Probably a bad day at work. Shit happens, yeah?” He pauses before he adds with a playful tone, “Or maybe you weren’t just feeling like talking and being open when you’re in a room with people you have nothing in common with and didn’t even feel like coming in the first place but you felt like you were obligated to because you had already turned your cousin down too many times before, and you got so fed up the whole situation that you wanted space so you went here, and here we are because I just wanted to have an excuse to be with you alone”

She blinks at him a couple times before letting out an impressed scoff. “Wow, I don’t know if I should be amazed or creeped out” she narrows her eyes at him. “How the hell did you know all that?”

A grin tugs on his lips. “I’m just an observant person”

She chuckles and shakes her head, “Still doesn’t explain how you could figure all that out though. That takes a lot more than just being observant. You work with the feds or something?” She jokingly asks.

He lets out his laugh with a snort. “Nah I think that’s just the opposite to what I do” he says as he doesn’t bother to hide his amused face as he waits for how she’s going to respond to that. Most women didn’t like what he did for a living and with his so-called “difficult” personality on the side, it resulted in him only having shallow relationships and hookups, which he didn’t mind because he could get any woman he wanted with his looks and ways with a woman. Plus, what was so bad about fucking hot blondes every weekend? But he was 32 now and got tired of going on with the casualty, and was not better than finding a woman you really wanted to try with if it wasnt with the most fucking beautiful woman he had ever seen sitting across him, that now had her brows knitted at him.

“Okay that gave me absolutely nothing. If you think we're gonna have a guessing game about what you do then get out of here. I hate guessing”

He laughs harder as he rests his forearms on the table. She’s feisty. “Are you always like this?”

“I'm just being honest” she replies with a shrug as she crosses her leg, looking at him with a teasing smile that makes that damn dimple pop out. She’s having a good time and she doesn’t even bother to hide it. “So are you going to tell me or do I have to wait 3-5 business days to know that very sacred thing about you” she sarcastically asserted, making it harder for him to not be more captivated by her than he already is

“I’m a merc. Black market.”

Now that got her attention as she raised her brows at his very blunt answer. “Is that like, a real thing?”

“Yep”

She cocks her head up at him “For real?”

“Yeah”

“Damn” she marveled. “That’s tough”

He chuckled lightly, “‘That’s tough’? That’s all you have to say?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say. Why would you let me judge you when we’ve only started talking like 20 minutes ago?” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and that kind of threw him off guard. She really didn’t care about it? He was almost in a fascinated kind of trance when she broke him out of it, “it does kinda suit you though, with this whole look going on” she says as she moves her hand in a circular motion at him in the air.

“Yeah? Care to explain what you mean by that?” he says in an amused tone as he unconsciously leans in a bit closer to her

Should I go flirty now? Fuck it, I’m gonna go flirty. “You got the looks for it. You have a rough look with that body and that tattoo on your neck. But it’s attractive” she states as she crosses her forearms on the table.

Smirking, he says, “attractive, eh?”

“Yeah, you heard me the first time so don’t try to play coy now.”What’s up with these bitchy ass replies when I’m trying to act flirty?

That brings another chuckle from him as he remembers what Dylan told him about her. She’s no weak flower. “What do you do anyway, beautiful?” he asks, changing the subject to something easier.

It was only fair since she knows what he does now, something he shouldn’t even have said that soon in the first place. Honestly, he wouldn’t even be surprised if she was a model or something. She had this sexiness to her with those curves and tits. Fuck, he couldn’t wait until he got his hands on her body. She had to let him. He’d fucking die if he couldn’t at least get a kiss from her at some point. Now, did he sound like a horny teenager that has just discovered sexuality? Yes. Was he ashamed of it? Absolutely not. Could you even blame him? Everything that was sexy, she had. But she also had this innocent kind of beauty to her with that damn angelic face of hers and those alluring big, black eyes that he tried his best to not look too long at. He could complete every mission at work with ease and kill men with his bare hands, but not get lost in those eyes? It felt like a mission impossible. And every time he’d look at her face he just wanted to kiss every damn freckle she had scattered across her cheeks, or even better, those plump lips that were just teasing him by its mere existence. Would she let him kiss her? He really fucking hoped she would at some point because he’d bet it would be the best kiss of his life. Was she even real? It sure as fucking hell didn’t feel like it.

“I teach”

It was his turn to get surprised. In his logic, she was simply too beautiful looking to be a teacher. “You teach? Like, preschool kids and stuff?”

“More like high school kids. Psychology and sociology”

She was intellectual too? Hot. “You don’t look like you’re a teacher” he says as he decides to tease her just for the hell of it, “I don’t think it suits you very well though. You look like you just graduated high school. Can you even pull it off?”

She narrows her eyes at him as she gives out a scoff. Hot aussie has got a big mouth huh? I didn’t study my ass off while fighting depression and an oxycontin addiction and lastly trying to deal with my crumbling engagement just for some man to tell me that my job doesn’t fit me without me letting it slide. Pretty privilege could get you far but not THAT far. “For your information, I pull it off just fine and who are you to even question me like that? Just because you’re my cousin's friend and I respect him doesn’t give you the green light to say whatever you want so don’t get too comfortable.”

He’d lie if he didn’t say that made his cock stir a bit. Great, he just wanted to get her a little pissed off because he bet she’d look cute being all upset and now he had to fight the betrayal of his body to not get hard.

Deep breaths mate, deep breaths

His amused smile turns into a grin as he teasingly says, “Oh, did I hit a sore spot there? Did I get the hot high school teacher all cranky?”

Now it was turn for her body to betray her as she let out a laugh when she wanted to stay pissed at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s a long list for that. And I was just messing with you, beautiful. Bet you’re a bloody good teacher. But psychology and sociology? That’s pretty damn niche”

“Says the black market mercenary. You couldn't just have stayed in the army like a normal person? She teases

“You couldn’t teach something common like English or math like a normal person?”

That causes her to chuckle once again, feeling like she hasn’t had this much fun talking to a man since forever. Especially not with Dylan's friends that only seemed to think with their dicks and had zero shame with objectifying her when Dylan wasn’t paying attention. “I actually enjoy talking to you”

That almost got him blushing like a teenager. Almost. “Yeah? Before you were pretty quick to put me in my place but now you’ve done a 180. Feel like I’m getting mixed signals here”

“Well, I don’t regret putting my time into talking to you and I think you’re fun. Does that answer what I’m feeling?”

Time to get bolder, he couldn’t let her go so another man could take her out and potentially make her his. “Depends. Do you think I'm fun enough that I can get your number and take you out on a date?”

Why did that make her smile more than she intended to? He had made her feel the tiny couple of butterflies during their conversation, especially when he’d call her beautiful. But now the butterflies got a tad bit more inside her as they exchanged numbers and talked a bit more, words just flowing with each other as she had completely forgotten that she should spend some time with Dylan since she was in his house and came for his sake in the first place. But he should be fine though, it’s not like he didn’t have his other friends to talk to.

Time went unbelievably fast as she had to leave before getting a parking ticket, catching up with Dylan for good measure as he walked her to her car. And when she got home, she just felt happy as she unconsciously smiled to herself while she thought of Tyler. She wasn’t completely crushing yet but something about him made her mood go up.

Tyler on the other hand, he was down bad. Real bad. He didn’t want to be like this but it was hard not to when he had the number of the world's most beautiful woman in his contacts. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, or her for that part either as he laid in his bed thinking about all that feminine beauty she possessed.

She was just so seductive without even trying and the longer he thought about it, the more blood flowed south to his groin that was now painfully straining against his boxers. Now, to his defense, if she wouldn’t be his friends cousin, he’d fuck off with the respect and modesty and take her home so he could fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

But that wasn’t the case now, which led him to rubbing his glistening mushroom tip and slowly pumping down his shaft, groaning and desperately wished that it was her pussy he was fucking. He pumped harder and faster as he imagined her moaning under him, slick walls enveloping every inch he had to offer. Or her being on her knees while he ran his hands through her copper brown hair, making it to a makeshift ponytail as she twirled her tongue around his cock and sucked him off until he shot his seed down her throat. Deep gone in fantasy land, relentlessly fucking his fist and the sound of his wet skin slapping filling his bedroom as his dick twitched and he growled out a deep “fuck” before cumming all over his toned stomach. And there he laid, panting as he’d just jerked off at the thought of her like a fucking perv while she laid in her bed in her apartment, in contrast to him, innocently thinking about him as she genuinely couldn’t wait for when he’d reach out for her about their upcoming date.

——————————————————————

previous chapter

[rogerswifesblog]

Wow hello! I just found ur page and I just wanna saw that it’s amazing!

If it’s not too much to ask do you think you can write one with Steve rogers with a plus size girly ?

Maybe like she’s just feelin a lil down about herself and he comes in to save the day

Lol insecurities do be hitting a lil harder and rogers is a really good comfort

If not all good!! Thank you for all you do!

Happy thanksgiving!!!

Thank you for the compliment and for the request!:) I hope you’ll like it. And I also hope that’s something you had in mind:)

Normally I write the requests in a chronological way of how I receive them, but I really liked this one.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Nobody knows you and Steve are dating...which means many of the agents try to flirt with him. It kind of made you doubt yourself.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Steve Rogers x plus-size!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: very insecure reader, insecurities, some flirting from other agents, crying, self doubt, implied oral [ F ],

the reader’s not friendly to herself/body shaming:c good think Steve’s here to help

Remember everyone is beautiful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!!

Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!:)

You watched the new girl talk to Steve. Well, more like, flirt with him. He just finished training with the new agents and as always there had to be this one woman, who had to stay behind and try to...get in his pants, maybe? You couldn't really tell.

Of course Steve dismissed everything she said and world her he wasn't interested, but it still stings. He was...Steve. Steve was just so attractive. Not only his appearance, but also his personality. He was a good guy. Some people would probably call him a golden retriever in human form.

And you were...well, you.

After gaining a few pounds to many during the stressful years in college, you haven't lost anything of it. Some part of you knew, it didn't matter, you were still pretty and your personality was great-but there was also a voice that told you, you weren't good enough. Too big, too loud, too...much.

This voice is always much louder when you see the pretty, slim girls flirting with Steve. Sometimes even guys. Everyone could see Steve's beauty. He was out of your league-and yet, somehow, he'd fallen for you. You didn't understand why. He could have literally everyone. Why did he choose you?

Your insecurities were the reason why you didnt want anyone to know about your relationship. It's been three months since you started really dating and even though Steve really wanted to tell people how much he loved you, you just...couldn't. People wouldn't approve of your relationship. He was too good for you. You could already see the headlines; Steve Rogers, national hero, going out with-

"Hi, Peach-pie", Steve's greeting interrupted your thinking. A small laugh escaped your lips. Steve always called you something sweet-apparently because you were sweet, in his eyes. "Hi, Love, how was training?", you asked, even though your smile was a bit tense. Steve noticed, pulling your closer against his firm body.

"It was good, but now everything is much better, having you here", he mumbled, smacking a big kiss on you cheek, before kissing your lips softly. You kissed back for a few seconds, before pulling away. Steve already knew what you wanted to say, so sighed. "I know, I know...not in public. But why baby? I want to show everyone how much I love you."

Grinning Steve put his arms around you, squeezing your booty slightly. He liked putting his hands on your body. He loved how soft you were compared to him, how round your breast were...and your soft tummy, god, he loved your soft tummy. Or your thighs. He loved being between them, have them hugging his head-especially when you sat on his face. This was his favourite think to do, even if it took you a bit of convincing before you finally let him pull you over his head. And when he said, sit on his face, he really meant it. Steve loved feeling your weight over him.

Another group of agents came into the gym, making you step back from Steve. “We’ll talk later, Captain”, you said before you walked away.

God, Steve loved watching you walk away.

In the evening you two sat on the couch, watching a movie, but Steve could tell you didn’t payed much attention. Most of the time you were looking out of the window. He gently put his hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly. “Sugar, talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”, it made your heart ache, that he immediately thought it was something about him. How could he ever think he did something wrong? It was all about you.

“It’s…I’m just not feeling well, I should go home and sleep”, you mumbled, already standing up. Steve grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you tried to not sit down or even fall back to the sofa, but he didn’t let you. So you sat on his lap-with your full weight. You knew he was a super soldier, but…you still felt too heavy. “Please, sweetie, talk to me. I know you’re lying. Did something happen?”, Steve asked gently, cupping your face with his hands.

You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. Slowly they started run down your face, while Steve wiped them away, gently kissing your cheeks. “What happened, Peach?”, you shook your head sobbing. “It just…I happened-I-I’m not supposed to be your girlfriend”, you sobbed, confusing Steve.

He shook his head, pulling you closer against him. “Why do think that?” You chuckled wetly about his cluelessness. How could he not see it? “I’m huge, Steve. I’m ugly, I’m big, I’m-“ “Now, stop there right know, sweetheart. You’re not ugly-and your curves are amazing. I love every bit of you. Everything you may not like, is perfect to me”, he said, gently letting his hand slide over your arms, waist, tummy and thighs.

Until now you’ve never really confessed your feelings for each other. Your whole body tingled, while your heartbeat quickened.

You wanted to say something, but Steve wasn’t finished. “If you knew how I see you, you’d see a wonderful woman, that makes me laugh every time I’m in a bad mood. A woman, that makes me feel, like I can build a life here, in this century…and god, you have no idea how much you turn me on, whenever I see you in my bed”, he mumbled the last bit, grabbing your thighs a bit stronger. The corners of your mouth twitched.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be your boyfriend-I’m a man out of time, just a mascot for the government-and-and I’m not even real. It’s the serum. I’m just the serum, and yet you love me for who I am. sometimes I can’t believe it. You are just so…you and I’m just…me”, he whispered, now also having tears in his eyes.

With a racing heartbeat you slowly put your hands on his, which were on your thighs. “Steve, I love you for who you are, no matter how you look like”, you said, only realising how the two of you felt similar about each other. Of course, you liked Steve’s muscles and strength, but it wasn’t the reason why you fell in love with him. It was his personality.

You’ve never imagined, that Steve could also be somehow insecure, not only about his body, but also about historical past. You always thought he felt good about himself-and that’s also something Steve thought about you. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he ever met. He couldn’t even imagine WHY you were insecure. Your body was beautiful.

Steve started smiling, putting his arms around you. “You love me”, he whispered after a while, which made you chuckle barely audible. Nodding, you put your hands against his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. “I do, I really do, Steve. I love you”, kissing you, Steve quietly sighed against your lips, pressing you closer against him.

“And just like you love and accept everything about me, I do the same about you. You have no idea how incredible you are-and don’t think bad about your body, just because you have curves-“ “But I have stretch marks and I’m heavy, Steve”, you interrupted him, making him raise his eyebrows slightly.

He grabbed your butt and stood up with you, not breaking a sweat. “Thrust me, sweetheart. You’re not heavy. And your stretch marks are cute, beautiful and amazing. They remind me of tiger strips-and I like tigers. And you, Kitty”, he grinned against your lips, walking to the bedroom with you in his arms.

“And I’d like to show my kitty how much like every bit of her”, he mumbled before laying you down on the bed, already starting to kiss every inch of your body. “And we’ll start with you, sitting on my face.”

That’s it! I really hope you enjoyed it.

Please let me know.

Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

Feedback?

[brynnterpretations]

Ship request for my OC Kat, please: she is greek/irish american, 5'6, light skin & slim build. Long, messy dark brown hair & brown eyes. Follows goth fashion so thick eyeliner & dark clothes. Very reserved, dislikes feeling vulnerable. The type to lie, talk shit or say weird things to get people off her back, but can be blunt & straightforward when she's not feeling defensive. Deeply loyal & generous to those she is attached to. Overall very curious, high tolerance for bullshit, & difficult to get a reaction out of. Smoker. Enjoys being ''that weird girl'', all things death & occult, crafting and thrifting jewelry (often picks up random stuff off the ground because she thinks it'd be cool to make something with), & bands such as Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Blondie. I originally made her to ship with Patrick but I'm open to any ship or ideas that come to mind for you :) love your blog!

Thank you so much for the kind words! This was super fun to write.

I ship Kat with...

Patrick Hockstetter ☻

GIF Source: @pennywise-fucker ★ (link)

Patrick is attracted to Kat at first glance. He loves goth, punk, and otherwise alternative looks — its inherent dissent from social norms intrigues him — so when he sees her dark eyeliner and clothes, he's set.

Patrick is not someone who cares for subtlety, at all, so he'll come onto Kat pretty quickly and aggressively. After making some demeaning catcalls to her in the hallways and private remarks to the gang, Patrick would either plop down at her lunch table or sit next to her in open-seating classrooms and firmly cement it as his seat (something Derry teachers wouldn't help with, because, "the quiet kid will help the rowdy kid behave, surely").

Would start off with a creepy pick-up line ("so, are you into what you look like you're into, sugar?") and eventually progress to random stuff that he gauges Kat's into, like post-punk music and dark subjects like true crime.

I think even for very dark-minded people, Patrick still isn't the most charming — flirting with a mouth full of cafeteria cheeseburger will never win you many ladies — so it would probably start pretty slowly and take some wearing down. With how guarded Kat is, Patrick would have to put effort into getting close to her, which would only make her more attractive to him. He'd start asking around about her and following her around town, specifically to the town record shop and thrift store.

After Patrick continued to make an effort and show genuine interest in Kat, conversations progressed into things more personal, like her interests and hobbies. He'd take her on surprisingly thoughtful dates for someone like Patrick, such as horror film showings and to smoke at the Barrens at night (though, proceed with caution, because... Patrick).

Patrick would never finalize or label the relationship — he's not that type of guy, sorry — but the Gang would definitely refer to her as his girlfriend, and it would be recognized by most as a relationship 2 – 3 months on.

He wouldn't have any qualms with immediately introducing Kat to the gang, at all. The boy does not care about any awkwardness and, anyway, would think it would be fun seeing how it goes. He likes to stir up drama, no joke.

Kat's first invitation to the gang is a smoking session at the Barrens, which goes... as expected, with Henry going nonverbal, Victor reacting how your typical stoner would, Patrick acting the same as normal (was he even smoking?), and Belch getting that glossy look in his eyes that precedes a sativa-induced panic attack.

They all like her, though!

Henry is a bit off-put by her appearance for the first month — sorry, but she's the girl he'd target for being different, considering he did at one point — but she'd grow on him, for sure. Surprisingly, if Kat called Henry out on bullshit, I feel like he'd have a lot more respect for her. Additionally, loyalty and honesty are some qualities that Henry likes in a person, even if he doesn't show it, so he'd warm up to Kat in his own Henry way...

Meaning he drunk-vents to her a lot. Like, a lot, a lot.

Belch would have a massive crush on Kat and has a hard time hiding it. He's very much into girls who are tough and can stand their own, and combined with Kat's looks, would feel very attracted to her after a couple conversations.

Victor would likely be one of her best friends in the group. Victor tends to really like forming friendships with walls-up, defensive types. He also has a similar music taste to Kat, being a big fan of Bauhaus and a budding fan of Siouxsie and the Banshees, and would trade records with you.

However, Victor doesn't like your relationship with Patrick at all. He likes Kat, and he hates Patrick, who continuously is a massive douche.

The guy loves to push people's buttons, and Kat's no exception. With how tough of an egg she was to crack, he knows she's got some baggage underneath, and routinely pushes her into stressful situations, whether it's making her entertain a crowd of people at a party, telling drama-hounds if she's talked shit about them, or putting you on the spot in front of the gang.

Unless Kat is willing to put up with that, there would definitely be some fighting in the relationship, though Patrick wouldn't take it that seriously as long as she was still entertaining him.

It's not all bad with him, though — their shared interests lead to a lot of good hangouts (and chemistry), and Kat can even hold theoretical and philosophical conversations about death and other topics with him, something a lot of people can't do with Patrick. He doesn't really take anyone's opinions on him seriously enough to share besides the random, offputting comment or "joke", so the fact he does it with Kat is impressive. While he doesn't exactly see her as a full-fledged person, he does recognize her as being interesting beyond being just someone he messes around with, and thinks her input on different topics is fascinating to hear.

Kat can expect a lot of... gifts... from Patrick, these including an old, banned mondo film from the '70s (?), a decently but not fully cleaned bird skull (??), and a necklace with a couple mismatching beads and a tooth of a mysterious origin (???).

For as much as Patrick gifts to her, though, he'd take. He'd end up stealing some of her custom-made jewelry and wearing it, TBH — he digs her style and finds it interesting how she makes things out of what otherwise would be deemed as trash.

Would overall not be the healthiest relationship, but still a pretty solid one, and not as disastrous as most relationships with Hockstetter.

[alicesadventuresinffxiv]

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #26

Title: Zipping around the Hinterlands

Wordcount: 1365

Spoilers Through: Heavensward, also references a small detail you learn post-EW about Y'shtola's childhood

Relationships & Characters: Lyse/Y’shtola, Master Matoya

Summary: Before the colony is abandoned, a very young Lyse and Y’shtola get up to trouble in Sharlayan.

(Exactly how old are they in this? Well that depends how old you think Y’shtola is in the present. :P Lyse is def between 6-11 and Y’shtola is a few years older to make the timeline work though! So there's not romance in this so much as friendship/crush-shaped feels. :3)

.

Lyse really, truly hadn’t meant to cause any trouble. When Yda had dropped her off with Master Matoya so she could listen in to a meeting about the upcoming exodus, Lyse had promised to be on her best behavior.

But Master Matoya’s study was so full of pretty liquids and complicated instruments that it was hard not to want to touch them. Plus, the only other thing to do there was read, and Lyse had tried reading but gotten bored and frustrated after a few chapters of arcane treatises and their even more arcane vocabulary. 

Y’shtola hadn’t, though. Lyse’s best friend had shushed her and snuck a huge, leather-bound tome off of Master Matoya’s desk and then proceeded to happily while away the time with her nose in it.

So Lyse had gotten curious what could be so interesting about this book, and she’d happened to have picked up one of the glowing blue vials from a shelf. She hadn’t meant at all to spill the reagent on the pages, but Y’shtola had startled when Lyse had tried to look over her shoulder, and…

Well, that was why they decided to make a run for it. But no matter where they went, Master Matoya’s angry shouts echoed not far behind them.

“Can’t you move any faster?” Y’shtola glanced back as they ran through the river shallows. “Just a little further, and I know a place to hide.”

“Y’shtola… w-wait!” Lyse panted as she splashed a few yalms behind. “To your right!”

“Huh?” The small Miqo’te turned, only to find herself face-to-face with an aggressive okeanis. She let out an undignified squeak of surprise, then slowly backed up while brandishing her wand. “I’ll handle it!”

“B-But it’s so big…” Lyse flinched as the monster slapped its tail at them, throwing up a spray of mud. It hadn’t actually hit her, but she dove behind Y’shtola’s back, trembling.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold back!” The Miqo’te’s brow then furrowed in concentration as she waved the slim twig of birch through the air and whispered an incantation. 

“From ocean rise and cloudbank form,

From mountain spring and rainfall storm,

From river flow and life be born...

Water, water, froth and foam!”

Lyse gasped in awe as the nixie bubbled to life, then with a graceful twirl, sent a wave of water at the monster so strong it tumbled away downstream.

“Wow…!” Lyse jumped and clapped with joy. “You did it!”  Y’shtola was the coolest person Lyse knew. True, Moenbryda was also the coolest, but Y’shtola was the coolest who could summon a familiar. That meant she was probably the coolest person in the whole world, as far as Lyse was concerned.

“Hmph. It wasn’t anything special. Just a beginner-level summons.” Y’shtola calmly tossed her head. But her ears flicked and she was blushing, clearly proud her efforts had gotten such a reaction from the other girl.

“I could never do that…” Lyse said, eyes still full of wonder. Wonder that quickly evaporated back into panic as Master Matoya’s yelling sounded even closer. 

“Shtola, you get your tail back here! Lyse, that goes for you too!”

“Oh no, she’s already here!” Lyse wildly looked around, but the cave system they’d run into didn’t have an exit. If they tried to hide here, they’d definitely be found!

“I’ve got another idea!” Y’shtola clenched her small fists and glared determinedly at the rock walls barring their path. “If we teleport to the Sharlayan aetheryte, we can lose her in the crowds. Ready?”

“But I can’t…” Teleportation required intense focus, so Yda had forced Lyse to promise to wait until she was older. She wasn’t allowed to try until she could memorize the whole pamphlet Yda had given her on the subject and recite it backwards and forwards. 

“Go!” Lyse reached out to grab her friend’s hand, but Y’shtola’s form flickered and disappeared.

“Y’shtola?” Lyse whimpered, her panic continuing to mount. “Y’shtola, I can’t do it! Don’t leave me here!”

But Y’shtola, having vanished, did not answer. She was probably already in Sharlayan by now.

Unless… what if she hadn’t made it? What if she’d gotten lost in the Lifestream like those awful stories Yda used to scare Lyse with? No wonder she wasn’t coming back to help Lyse.

The small Highlander’s heart began to beat too-fast in her chest. She wasn’t supposed to be alone. If she was alone, the Garleans would come to grab her. They’d almost succeeded when she’d gotten separated from her sister near the Wall crossing, and Lyse still had nightmares about it.

What if Y’shtola was now dead and it was all Lyse’s fault? She’d never see her friend again, just like her dad! Just like everyone else in Ala Mhigo!

The thought was too much. Lyse suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

Then a gnarled old hand grabbed her out of nowhere. Lyse screamed, loud, and tried to dodge the grab like Yda had taught her. Only, she tripped and got a mouthful of murky water for her trouble.

“Oh, come now. You ruin my book, you make me run all the way out to the middle of nowhere, and now you’re the one crying about it?” 

Master Matoya had caught her just like the Garleans.

“Please don’t hurt me! Please, please, please!”

But the ancient Archon didn’t hit her like a soldier might. She didn’t even shout at her. Instead, she muttered some words and banged her staff on the riverbed, causing an enormous bubble to rise up and keep the water at bay. Then, when the rock beneath them was dry, she sat down next to Lyse and roughly shoved a handkerchief at her face.

Lyse hiccuped and stared, mesmerized by the clean white scrap of fabric.

“Well, don’t just stand there like a lump, girl! Dry your eyes!” Master Matoya shook the handkerchief.

Lyse swallowed and tentatively reached out for the cloth. Once it was in her hands, she forcefully scrubbed the handkerchief over her face.

“That’s better. Now, where’s my Shtola? What’s all this fuss about, hm?”

Lyse took a deep breath. Then another, now that she was able to again. “Y’shtola is gone and I don’t know where she went and I’m really really sorry about the book please don’t be mad I’ll give you all my nameday money to replace it and I know it was important but I just want Y’shtola back.”

“Gracious. One thing at a time, please, one thing at a time!” Master Matoya shook her head. 

Lyse gulped. “Y’shtola’s gone,” she repeated.

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that. Tried her hand at teleportation magicks, did she?”

Lyse nodded solemnly. “She said she was going to Sharlayan but what if she didn’t make it?”

Master Matoya shook her head again and let out a raspy guffaw. “Make it? Of course my Shtola made it. She’s been zipping about the aethernet willy-nilly since she was younger than you! Not that she’s allowed to, mind you.”

“R-really?” Lyse sniffled, thought the better of it, then blew her nose loudly into the handkerchief. “Are you going to yell at me?” she asked in a small voice.

“Oh, you’re both overdue for a mighty scolding, but I’ve better things to do with my breath.” Master Matoya clucked her tongue. “Like teaching you to dry books properly. And don’t tell me you need it because you don’t like reading! Every girl should have the skill.”

The kindly Archon stood, brushed off her robes, and stuck her hand out to the side. “Now, come along. We’ve quite a walk back to Sharlayan proper.”

Lyse took the hand and clung to it fervently as she followed Master Matoya out of the damp cave.

In the end, it was Yda who met them halfway back while carrying a very disgruntled Y’shtola under her arm. “Had a lost kitten appear outside the assembly hall.” She winked as Y’shtola hissed and wriggled as she tried to escape her helpless position. “Figured I’d return it before it got into any more trouble.”

But whatever Y’shtola grumbled in response was lost in Lyse’s overjoyed shriek as she barreled forward to bury her best friend in an iron-tight hug.

“Never, ever scare me like that again!”

[aamirastories]

This is my first time writing, and I will probably go back and rewrite this once I have posted it all. I already have every Chapter lined up, so there will be regular content on this for anyone who is interested. Although this chapter does contain sexual content, it has intent that will be clear later. This is not erotica - it has adult themes throughout the story but few will be sexual in nature.

This will make a lot more sense as you read more into this!

Part 1

Ammy

May 3rd, 2033

A car hurtles past me, driving straight through the large pool of water that had gathered by the kerb. I stepped back but it was too late.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them. My feet were soaked. I sighed.

I went back to staring into the puddle, showing me a shimmering and swirling view of the Dubai skyline. The city was beautiful, there was no doubting it. Architecture of all shapes, lights of all colours, mesmerising to look at and I never got tired of it. One of the few beautiful things left in the world.

“Hi.” I hear a male voice say. I snap out of my trance and look at him, showing a polite smile.

“Are you Aamira?”, he adds.

“Yes”, I reply, nodding in response.

Aamira was the name my parents used. Everyone else called me Ammy, and I preferred it.

“My house isn’t far from here.”, he says, pointing down the street.

As we leave the cover of the bridge, rain pours down onto us both.

“So, is $200 okay?”, he asks me. I had no such thing as a ‘going-rate’, but I needed to pay rent and no-one was hiring me. Not even for the most mundane of tasks. It used to bother me doing this kind of work, but I had to lock that thought deep in my mind in hopes of never retrieving it.

“Sure, that’s fine” I reply, as we walk briskly towards his house, I hope he is right and it isn’t too far – I already feel a bead of cold water slowly moving down my back, causing my breath to quicken.

Around 300 metres later, I guessed, we arrived at his house. A terraced, 2-floor house, typical of the area and not in any ways extravagant but a ways more than functional. He opens the door and I follow him inside.

He shuts the door as I finish stepping through, and I am grateful for the shelter, and the warmth. He hangs his coat up and leaves me, and I hang mine up in an empty hook near to it, before taking off my shoes and stepping through. My socks squelched slightly, full of water from the idiot who decided to soak me, but I shrugged this off quickly.

As I step into the room, he is seated on a large couch next to another woman. In this light, I catch a better look at them both. Him, dark haired, slim build with an abundance of facial hair, I had guessed around 6’ from our walk to his apartment. The woman sitting next to him was a pretty brunette girl, shorter, and they were both dressed simply – him in a shirt and trousers, her in a skirt and simple blouse.

“Take a seat” he said, directing me to a chair near them both. “Would you like a glass of water?”

“I’m good, thank you” I replied. I’d had enough water for the night. And he was clearly stalling.

He turned to look at the woman next to him.

“This is my wife, she’s pretty isn’t she?”, he said, looking her up and down, and I nodded in agreement.

“She is” I replied, hoping he would cut to the chase real soon. This small talk always made things more awkward.

“Strip for her, honey” he said to her, and she leaned over and whispered something in his ear, looking somewhat nervous.

“It’s okay” he replied softly to her. “We need this, we know this is the only way.”

After another look at him, she looked at me and unbuttoned her blouse. She had a black bra on, a simple number, matching the rest of her outfit, nothing too extravagant. She sat up slightly and pulled down her skirt, before she was sat on the couch next to him, looking more nervous than she had done before.

I had seen this, seemingly a hundred times. It always went a similar way.

“I told you she was pretty, I bet you really want her don’t you?” he asked me.

“She is pretty, indeed. Does she want this though?” I replied.

“She does, yes. Now, can we see more of you?” he replied.

I was dressed in a turtle neck sweater, it being colder this winter than I had typically remembered. I pulled it off of me to reveal a white bra, nothing fancy. I briefly took a comparison of my breasts to hers and had figured mine were bigger. Although my body felt more of a tool than something I could enjoy these past years, I was proud of it, as much as I could be.

“Look honey, she’s really attractive.” The man said, looking me up and down. He liked the look of this tool it seems. It didn’t matter.

Accompanying my sweater was a set of simple blue jeans – I’d had these a few years and honestly they needed replacing, but they more than did the job and were comfortable after all the time I had them. I pulled them down, until I was dressed as much as his partner.

“And she looks big too, right?” he said, looking at my crotch. Now I felt shamed. An object. I had transitioned 10 years ago and had come to regret it as the years had gone on. Wishing I could go back and tell my past self of what would happen.

He stood up, and gestured for me to sit beside her. I took the cue and joined her. She did smell good. Her perfume caught my nose softly and I enjoyed the scent, and it actually brought a genuine soft smile to my face as I looked at her. She looked at me back and for a moment I felt we had a connection, albeit a small one. It was crushed when he said,

“Okay, might as well begin?”

I looked at her with a soft expression.

“Do you want this?”

He snapped at me, “Of course she wants this! Now begin!”

I closed my eyes and sighed internally. When I opened them, she had locked lips with mine, and I sunk into her kiss. Her tongue teased my lips and I grabbed her shoulders softly, her resting her hands on my hips. Her touch was ever so gentle. My hands on her were gentle too, I’d have hoped, and my thumb brushed her skin, which felt warm to the touch and her soft skin only served to make her feel more gentle.

I opened my mouth, and our tongues danced as my chest began to heave, my breath deepening, becoming lost in her. She moved her hands down to my thighs and I felt a tingle run from my abdomen down to my crotch, it beginning to stir as a result of it. I could smell her perfume more strongly now, only adding to the arousal and encouraging my hands to move down her shoulders and onto her waist. She moaned softly, her hands squeezing my thighs and the stirring only hastened. She had me in this moment.

I felt her shift slightly and opened my eyes, to see him behind her, unclasping her bra and letting it loose. I leant back from the kiss to take her in, for a moment. Her breasts were small but perky, her nipples clearly showing how aroused she was and I only guessed mine were the same. He moved behind me.

“No, she can do it.” I almost snapped at him. I moved back into kiss her.

As we resumed our dance, I felt her hands softly move behind my back, deftly removing it in one swift moment as I felt it move to my thighs. I discarded it and shuffled in closer to her. I felt a cold but gentle hand on my breast, and moaned softly.

“Ooh,” and giggled softly. It was like I had forgotten what I was here for, and I did not mind that in the slightest.

As she tweaked my nipple softly in her fingers, and kneading my breast slowly, I moved my hand up in response. Our movements were almost symmetrical, our hands wandering as we explored each other, before I felt my arousal almost disappear entirely.

“Yea, baby, feel her up good.” He said, and I didn’t even bother to look. I mentally shut him out and continued my exploration of her.

“Okay, underwear off girls” he added, and I almost told him to leave right there and then, then I remembered what happened the last time I did that. The bruises and black eyes meant I almost didn’t pay my rent for 2 straight months. It was only the kindness of strangers that even got me through, so I held myself short.

I pulled my underwear off and I was already fully erect. She followed me and we both looked down and back up at each other. She bit her lip and we resumed our kissing. I could hear him saying things but my mind had now become fully able to shut him out and focus entirely on her. She grasped my member softly and it twitched in response. I paused kissing her as I felt so sensitive to her touch that I could almost feel her fingerprint on it. We resumed our oral exploration and she began to stroke me every so slowly. I squirmed

slightly then sunk entirely into it. Her breath quickened as her arousal built quickly, I could almost feel her heart pounding through her entire body.

She sat on my lap.

“Now. I want you now” she said. I was right, she had me. I was completely lost in her. I grabbed her hips and slid her towards me and she, in one motion, sat up and then sat on me. I felt her warm, wet and tight around me. I had been blessed by being larger than average, and although I was not proud of what I had to do, I was proud, once again, with what I had. Blessed with a tool that I did not want to use this way.

She began to bounce on me, and I was unable to shut him out any more. He was sat behind me, and I did not even want to look at him. I looked into her eyes, her face squinted, mouth agape, clearly and genuinely enjoying the experience, as I was too. She was clenching around me, her breasts hypnotically bouncing. She grabbed mine and kissed me deeply. She kissed my cheek, my neck and then bit my earlobe lightly before softly whispering into my ear, away from him,

“You’re so fucking hot.”, leaning back again and locking eyes with me as she continued.

She kissed me again, her tongue dancing with mine, her squeezing my breast with one hand, my arm with the other and I felt my climax build. Way more rapidly than I had expected.

“I’m close” I said to her.

“Yes yes YES!” The male voice said next to me, and I held her hips now, quickening my movements as it built more and more rapidly before my vision darkened, leaning back and feeling the release inside her. Once. Twice. Three times.

My heart was racing, I couldn’t focus. I opened my eyes to look at her, her expression was not one of ecstasy, but one of worry.

All of a sudden, my head lurched to one side and I felt a shooting pain across my scalp. This man, this asshole was dragging me by my hair and threw me into the street. I would have fought back but weighing only 45kg, I was easy to shift around.

I landed into the street with a shooting pain in my hip, instantly feeling the cold water on my body as my clothes were thrown at me. I looked at the door. His partner was there, trying to run out to me but he pulled her back, yelled something incomprehensible at her, and then shut the door.

I gathered my clothes, looked around and saw the street was dead, thankfully. I could tell it was late and I was grateful for it, putting my clothes back on, soaked from the street and sitting on a neighbouring step as I composed myself. Tears came quickly. Anger came even quicker. I looked back at his door and wondered what I could do. What I wanted to do. I stood up, and then realised what could happen. He had probably expected me to come in anyways, and was ready for me. I turned, looked down the street to get my bearings and began walking.

If it had not been for the rain, my face would be soaked in tears. My scalp hurt, he had probably pulled hairs right out of it with the aggression he used. My hip was sore but I could tell the cold rain was numbing it somewhat – I knew later that wouldn’t be the case.

About a kilometre later, I arrived at my apartment. I opened the door, threw my jacket onto the couch, fell onto my bed and cried. I don’t think I stopped crying even as I slept.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

☙Coraline❧ I didn’t post this originally because I forgot but then i didn’t want to but then i did so now we’re here, SHIPS, I love ships, tell me as much as you’re comfortable with about yourself, send a fandom and gender preference, and I’ll ship you and give you some head canons <3

could i please have one of these for newsies the musical and can it be for one of the boys??? ❤️‍🩹

prepare yourself because this is gonna be detailed 🤭

i have long curly blonde hair (it’s nearly at my waist now and is blonder than normal because of the sun) i love it sm now it’s like princess hair 🤭 i have downturned doe eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. i always curl my lashes and wear mascara because sadly naturally i have very straight pale lashes. i have a slim, slight figure and am tanned because it’s summer!!! my face has a lot of freckles now and but so does my body. i have a small ring of freckles on my knuckle which i love!!! my cheeks are always flushed and i have baby blue braces. the way i dress is very coquette, girl next door chic. think white lace blouses paired with jean skirts or pretty floral dresses. simple, girly angelic and preppy. basically rory gilmore if she was one of the lisbon sisters.

i’m extremely physically affectionate. my friends irl will tell anyone that because i’m nearly always holding their hands or looping my arms with theirs. my love language is definitely physical touch. i’m an infp and a libra. i also get told that my personality reminds people of miss honey or cinderella. so i guess that means i’m pretty soft spoken and kind. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can ramble for ages about my hyper-fixations.i can be kinda naive but only because i always wanna see the good in people!!! i don’t really get angry or when i am angry i just end up crying. 😔

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, echo and the bunnymen + not from the 80s lana <333 though to be fair i just adore anything from the past. but also i thrive listening to vintage love songs. i love pressed flowers and journaling! basically any hobby that is typically old fashioned is my kind of activity 😭

thank you ever so much for doing this, i’m genuinely so interested to see which one of the newsboys you ship me with!!!

It took me a minute but now i have it,

I don’t think it would work with Jack, he needs someone like loud and can argue with him and stuff and i just don’t see you liking that. I think,,,

Spot Conlin (maybe because he’s my favorite, but stay with me) I think that you would be a tailor for Medda, like not a show girl, but you make their costumes and mend things and yadda yadda. And one day Jack brings Spot to a show, just because. And they go through the back door and you’re walking past in a gorgeous light pink dress you made yourself (i feel like you’d look good in light pink) and he’s so used to seeing everyone in brown and dark colors that it immediately catches his eye, But! what really grabs his attention is the armful of bolts of fabric you’re carrying, especially since they’re in front of your face and you run right into him, so of course he couldn’t ignore you. So he helps you pick everything up and you’re apologizing left and right and he’s like “I should be apologizing to you,” in his silly little accent, and when you don’t believe him “I’m serious, youse too pretty to be sayin sorry to me” then you giggle and blush because duh. And then he tries to pick everything up for you and bring it wherever you’re going and you’re like “No, you don’t have to do that, really.”

But he does. And then he makes Jack take him to every show just so he can see you and eventually he asks you out and so he takes you out for dinner and even if it’s not the nicest place you’ve ever been, you still really love it because of how sweet he’s being to take you out. And maybe on one of you’re later dates, after you’ve been together for a little while, some randos on the street try catcalling you because you’re in such a pretty dress and you look so nice, especially standing next to Spot, even if you’ve started mending/making his clothes. So he doesn’t care that they’re insulting him, that doesn’t matter, but what matters is they made you feel bad and he cannot have that. So he walks you home and he tells you that he’s gonna start selling more papes and trying harder and build a better life but you’re like “You don’t have to do all that just for me.” BUT HES LIKE “I’m doin it for us”

and it is love 🥰

[unadulterated-syd]

if it isn’t too much trouble can i request a male wednesday matchup??? it would mean the world to me!!!

i go by she/her pronouns. my name is florence but most people call me flo or other nicknames. i’m a fair skinned 5’3 girl with long curly gold hair that is cut in 90s layers with long side bangs. it’s typically held off my face with a ballet pink coloured ribbon. i have downturned doe eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. i always curl my lashes and wear mascara because sadly naturally i have very straight pale lashes. i have a slim, slight figure. my face only has a few freckles but i have a lot on my body. i have a small ring of freckles on my knuckle which i love!!! my cheeks are always flushed and i have a small gap betweeen my front 2 teeth.

i’m extremely physically affectionate. my friends irl will tell anyone that because i’m nearly always holding their hands or looping my arms with theirs. my love language is definitely physical touch. i’m an infp and a libra. i also get told that my personality reminds people of miss honey or cinderella. so i guess that means i’m pretty soft spoken and kind. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can ramble for ages about my hyper-fixations.i can be kinda naive but only because i always wanna see the good in people!!! i don’t really get angry or when i am angry i just end up crying.

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, echo and the bunnymen. though to be fair i just adore anything from the past. but also i thrive listening to vintage love songs. i dress in a very typically feminine way with ditsy floral patterns and lace being a staple in my wardrobe. i love pressed flowers and journaling.

thank you ever so much <3333

you're music taste is SOO good!! I'd be glad to give you a matchup!

This one's tough, because I could see you with Xavier or Ajax!

So I'm going to give you Ajax, with the knowledge that you could be with both 🫡

-> Ajax

Ajax would love your style, he wouldn't get some of your book interests and such but he's v supportive

he'd watch vintage movies with you whenever you want to!

I think he'd definitely listen to your music, and the two of you would share your music tastes

like combine them if that makes sense??

hed love how sweet u are and he's really sweet too so it's like sugar and sugar

he'd be all ears about your hyperfixations + would listen for hours in admiration

Ajax would LOVE physical contact! But like in an odd way I think

like I see him as constantly holding your hand or hugging you etc. but he doesn't like kissing in public??

he's like pda in a way that doesn't make anyone uncomfortable if that makes sense!!

I think he's also an angry cryer so he'd def know how to help you feel better (let's face it he couldn't make anyone angry)

I think you two would be a great match!

[z0mp13ss]

FNAF rant (i love fnaf sosoososososososososososososo much) okay listen Freddy Fazbear is so fucking overrated. He SUCKS. He's basic, doesn't have a southern accent, and just har har har har hars everywhere. You know who is better? LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE. Minus Foxy. I'm not a big fan of Foxy, he's just..there and runnin. But you know who is better than ANYONE? Chica. She's 10000000 times better. Chica is actually one of the animatronics I am most interested in like backstory-wise because I feel like hers is a bit more developed? We don't really know what lured the other children, (i think), but for her can kind of assume it is because of her dog. Susie is the name of the spirit in Chica, and she's so silly. I like almost all variations of chica, but they do her more dirty as the games continue. It started with her incredibly oversexualized (even in design) version; Toy Chica. Even drawing her human version, people have to put more clothing on her. People could say, "Oh well og Chica has no clothes !!" okay yeah, but she also didn't have a chest and slim figure. She was JUST a chicken. It's also a but hard to look up references for Toy Chica without immediately seeing something innappropriate about her. Plus her voicelines also imply some stuff, like "Let's go somewhere more private..so i can eat you." Like ok girl, they did you dirty. I would be mad too. I just feel like her design could have been a bit better, especially since the pink waist/hip piece thing looks a bit weird. I think all the fnaf 3 designs were lazy, and were just the animatronics in green goo. He did not cook with that one, and they did not eat with the jumpscares either. I like FNAF 4 Chica and also I like withered Chica.The only thing I find confusing is how with there seperated mouths her head slightly curves out at the end, instead of it staying circle like her og head. It only confuses me because that's not how her head shape is and especially if its the same animatronic (for withered) then shouldn't her head shape stay somewhat similar?? This is probably decent for nightmare chica because she was BASED on Chica, and is not an actual thing of chica but simply a nightmare. Like it says in the name. I also find it weird how we went from Chicken, to skinny chicken, to og chicken but green goo, to scary chicken, BACK to skinny chicken but now shes WHITE? I headcanon for og chica to have a southern accent and so I feel like Funtime Chica would probably not have that?? She looks like she would be a bit sassy, I like her. Kinda. I feel like she's pretty ignored, but her design isn't too bad?? Especially for what the funtimes were , she's pretty decent. I would've liked more of an outfit or more key features in her design though, because it's a bit bland. I love rockstar chica, and I know she would have a southern accent as well. No complaints with rockstar chica, but why do the chicas go through such weird design change. And like, she's just ignored a lot. Glamrock Chica is cute, and looks like one of those disco workout instructors so I think she's rlly pretty! She actually has clothes, and I don't need to headcanon her voice because her voicelines r like already there. I love when she's broken too, people show like how sad she is because she can no longer eat.

[shroud-of-empire]

I forgot to even mention this in my review, but another funny thing about So Speaks the Heart is how it repeatedly insists that Leandra is better/smarter/more attractive than Theodora. E.g. Leandra is a virgin and Theodora is not, Leandra knows things that Theodora can’t understand, Theodora is attractive but Leandra is beautiful… you get what I mean. The narrative specifies at one point that Theodora has gained weight, while Leandra is still youthful and slim. Alexander even sleeps with Theodora just so he can compare her to Leandra later (and he obviously concludes that Leandra is better). I guess it’s just part of the fantasy—Leandra is prettier than the most famous courtesan in the world, because she’s written for escapism, not accuracy—but a lot of books do this. Generally, if a book is set in the sixth-century Byzantine Empire and the main character is anyone other than Theodora, the narrative will repeatedly emphasize that Theodora isn’t that attractive/powerful/intelligent. If the protagonist is a woman, the author will establish early on that the protagonist is the more beautiful of the two; if the protagonist is a man, the author will establish that he’s smarter and his wife is prettier. And you see this everywhere in Byzantine speculative fiction.

Like, okay, The John the Eunuch books don’t really focus on Justinian and Theodora anyway, but every time Theodora does show up, the narrator has to comment on how unattractive she is (especially compared to John’s love interest). In the earlier books, she’s described as mediocre-looking and generally underwhelming, and in the later books, she’s described as having aged poorly (again, the narrator comments on her weight). A Flame in Byzantium describes her as an aging matron with a receding chin, wearing gaudy, tasteless outfits to disguise her fading looks. Every Belisarius book makes a point of mentioning that Antonina is more desirable than Theodora, either because Theodora is sluttier, less attractive, or somehow “broken” (a lot of books give her exaggerated trauma or mental illnesses, so she can be dismissed as a crazy shrew that no normal man would ever want). And it’s not like I’m personally invested in defending Theodora’s looks—I don’t really care if some vampire novel describes her as less attractive than the idealized protagonist—but I do think it’s a weird pattern. I mean, we know what Theodora looked like. We know how her contemporaries viewed her. We know that she had a successful career as an actress and a courtesan, and that she married the heir to the Roman Empire. And yet so many books present her as an overrated, overweight, middle-aged has-been with bad taste in jewelry and tacky barbarian clothes.

I don’t know. I’m probably overanalyzing this, but I think it speaks to a number of different things. A lot of it is clearly rooted in sexism, but it’s like a fusion of a hundred different sexist tropes. You have the “evil queen” trope, where a powerful woman is depicted as an old hag envious of other girls’ youth and beauty—in Theodora books, the old hag is Euphemia, and in other books, the old hag is Theodora. And some authors have a tendency to portray adult women as uniformly petty and cliquey regardless, so then you get these weird stories where empresses compete over who’s prettiest like they’re sixteen-year-old pageant queens. (Granted, you see that more in older books, but it does pop up in more recent stories.) But that doesn’t entirely account for the “my wife is way hotter than that crazy bitch, Theodora” stories, which almost feel more sinister to me. That specific sentiment feels so rooted in such a complex web of sexist stereotypes—linking women’s worth to their looks, linking men’s worth to their assets (and presenting a pretty, young wife as an asset who increases her husband’s value as a man), depicting any women who aren’t stock “cool girl” characters as “crazy bitches,” etc. A lot of writers clearly do this to make Belisarius seem cooler and more enviable—they can’t give Justinian a normal, loving marriage, because then Justinian would have something that Belisarius doesn’t, so they have to make Theodora ugly or crazy so Belisarius still seems like he “won.” It’s more subtle with the other male-character-centric stories, but I think that motivation is present at least some of the time.

Anyway, this rant kind of got away from me, and again, I’m probably thinking too hard about this (most of these speculative fiction books aren’t exactly great literature, anyway, for reasons independent of Theodora). But I still think the tendency to compare Theodora unfavorably to other, more prominent female characters, often in ways that don’t make a lot of sense (like describing Theodora as overweight, unattractive, or somehow “broken” or “crazy”) is a phenomenon worth remarking on.

[peedamoomee]

i saw your ex today at a cafe and weirdly it triggered me. she’s really pretty and slim! you were on my mind a lot today for a few reasons. being added to that gc for the hangout was interesting because as soon as i saw you were in it i knew i wasn’t planning to go to whichever function was being held. i just can’t and don’t want to be around you. also because there is free mixing and alcohol there and hardly any of my real friends were gonna be there. so i figured i wouldn’t go. when i woke up at 4am for fajr this morning I went on instagram and you were the first face i saw… seems like the banff trip already  happened. i totally thought that would be later in the summer but oh well! it’s crazy to see how you’ve become to close with people who i introduced you to although now we don’t even speak to each other. you’re probably hanging out with them rn and having fun. which is good for you. i’m glad. it’s great that since we broke up you have been able to make friends with these people. you’ll probably end up being closer with them than i ever was. i joked once that you will now replace me in all of their functions and although you said u couldn’t i think it’s for the best. i won’t be free mixing anymore. i’ll only see the girls when it’s just them hanging out, but i don’t wish to be around any of the boys especially because you will also be there around them. and that’s not something i want to deal with and a situation i want to put myself in.

then when i fell back asleep i had a dream you and i were with your mom and she was telling me how rude i was and that she didn’t like me and how i never ate with your family or greeted them or tried to become close with them and it upset me so much in the dream. i felt so bad. i feel like i was such a bad girlfriend in your family’s eyes. i probably wasn’t what they pictured their son to be dating and for a girl with a hijab to be with him was even more odd. i always felt uncomfortable around them because i felt like they were weird around me. i’m so embarrassed that i stuck around for as long as i did. i don’t really think i was wanted that much! it’s so embarrassing. anyway. your ex is such a pretty girl really. i was surprised. anyway. i don’t think you and i ever fit each other at all. we were too different in too many ways. i don’t really listen to bossa nova or frank ocean that often. she probably did. i think she must have been more similar to you. what did you and i even have in common?? what benefit did i even bring to your life? she honestly should’ve been the one who dated you, because you guys would’ve been able to have a more real relationship that was genuine and would’ve made sense in peoples eyes. i think your parents would’ve liked her a lot and so would your family and it would make more sense. to be honest, i don’t think i ever fit into your life. and although i like who i am, sometimes i wish i could change who i was to be with you. but i don’t think it was ever meant to be me. i think ill be a stain on your dating history because we were never meant to be together. i’m so embarrassed that i tried to make it work for so long and im so sad and regretful that i hurt you how i did. i wish i could’ve given you a better longer relationship instead of wasting your time. you deserve to be with a beautiful girl who just fits you. i never did. i couldn’t even if i tried. you were never even mine LOL.

[thequietmanno1]

TheLReads, Vigilantes ch 87, Replies Part 1

1) “I`m still baffled about that tbh. But let us carry on with the flashback so we can get back on track. Knuckles was about to lose to Rappa, and I`m already pointing a gun at Furuhashi just in case he decides to ignore cannon…”- Can’t ‘lose’ if he was never actually fighting him to win…

2) “Dammit Furuhashi, did we just opened into a flashback inside a flashback? 

Are you trying to drag this on for another chapter Christopher Nolan?”-   Just showing perspectives from Knuckle’s analytics-based POV, which I honestly really appreciate, as it’s sorta close to Izuku’s own tendancy to oberveve everything about an opponent and their Quirks, if only in his case because he’s a massive geek.

3) “Knuckles please, nobody in here is scared of that letter opener”- Well, a reasonable person would be, but Knuckle miscalculated. Reasonable people don’t get involved in underground cage matches.

4) “Huuuuuh… I see… So by showing it from knuckles pov we can see that all the events of the fight were calculated, since he was both a pro hero and had a high-speed quirk, that is a way to justify how he could lose to Rappa, that according to cannon, never lost a fight”- Also gives us an idea of what fights are like to Knuckles in the present, albeit, his slower body means that he now needs to start analysing/predicting their future course of actions to stay ahead of them whilst his physical shell struggles to keep up.

5) “But now that I think about it, wouldn`t a chapter showing this be better after we saw knuckles defeated on the ground? You know, you finish a chapter with hook, then open the next one showing that it was all according to keikaku?*

*Keikaku means “plan””- True, but then you’d have gotten pissed at Furuhashi just keeping the ‘fight’ off-panel for the last chapter.

6) “Alright, I`ll give it to you Furuhashi, this particular decision was clever, because it both preserves cannon and Miguel O`hara won`t need to gut you like a fish, and explain the situation on how knuckles managed to get hit and lose his weapon to this guy. Clever. I hope you can keep it up because I don`t want to go back on my compliments.”- I do feel the writing noticeably improves in the third act overall.

7) “What prep knuckles? We certainly haven`t seen any of it, which is a shame because that would probably be interesting.”- Knuckles definitely stabbed a man or two to sell his credentials as a knife-user to the overseers.

8) “HOLY FUCK ITS FATGUM

ABNDHE IS SO YOUNG

AND HE`S THIN AGAIN

AND FUCKL YOU FURUHASHI THAT`S NOT HIS STANDARD WIGHT THAT`S HIS LOW-VOLUME FORM”- Should have been “slimmed-down form”. I guess Fat recently had to burn a lot of calories absorbing another bomb or two.

9) “NO WAIT DON`T MOVE THE SCENE AWAY FROM GUN I`M SORRY FURUHASHI I WON`T COMPLAIN ANYMORE DON`T TAKE FATGUN AWAY FROM US PLEASE LET HIM JOIN IN THE FLASHBACK”- In exchange for less Fatgum, but about some more bunny as compensation?

10) “Dammit there goes Fatgum…

Also, what`s this girl about? Did she got wind of the fight going on right now?”- The Bunny’s instinct for Blood cannot be equalled.

11) “….

wait

wa it a moment

was th-

was that- “- You thought this flashback had its full roster with the fighting maniacs, but there was another waiting in the wings!

12) “Oh there we go, back to the good stuff”-  This panel looks pretty similar to that double-spread of Kirishima jumping between Fatgum and Rappa’s blows…and now I’m writing this, I just realised that Fatgum turned up for a cameo appearance in this chapter precisely because Rappa has an extended role in this flashback, as a nod towards their eventual encounter @thelreads

[violetren]

Blood of the Basilisk Chapter 11

It's taken me waaaay to long to really pick up on the cinderella/pretty woman like themes of this plot but this chapter really kinda made something click in my brain. Probably all the buying of clothes.

Hardly the most important thing in the chapter though. That actually happened right up front in the form of Pyter being a Proper Little Gentleman. He politely ate from Nadani's hand and didn't get his head stuck in the lemon curd pot this time.

It's hilarious to me how much better behaved he is for Nadani. I can imagine the logic of it being along the lines of "I like her but she's choosing to be here so I have to be nice. Momma however, is momma and never going anywhere AND she folds easier anyways."

I'm curious to meet the newly hired orc runner girl and glad to hear Lou is cool and practical enough not to have any elven superiority nonsense. I grinned at her "You've been very generous and I've been very stingy" comment.

I'm glad getting new clothes was a positive if a little overwhelming an experience for Nadani, and even gladder that it became another way to show how different Kota's generosity is to former owner's possessiveness/entitlement. Especially after the small double take that came when Nadani saw Kota had gifted her a knife.

It's not the exact situation but there's something that reminds me of poetry in the gifting of the knife. Giving someone a knife to defend themself even if the person they may feel the need to defend themself against is you (not that Kota ever intends to be, or seems to be in danger of becoming someone Nadani would have to defend herself from but she can't be sure Nadani truly accepts that).

Nadani's relationship with her body is definitely a point of interest in reading so far. It's not so much that she'd ashamed of it, its that she doesn't like what other people imagine when they look at it. She doesn't want people being lecherous about her but she's aware that with a body type like hers people are inclined to look if she isn't careful about wearing modest dress. It's a specific flavour of dysphoria where it's her ability to draw what she deems negative/unwanted attention that makes her dislike her body. I think its a pretty common experience in the trans and ace corners of the queer community as well as for people who have been abused or victimised for their looks for whatever reason.

There is a pretty clear cut reason why Nadani would be feeling that way what with her past being used as a sex slave, but the writing is just so that it kinda makes me wonder if there is also an undercurrent of Gender Stuff™. They aren't always mutually exclusive. Though it may just be giving me those vibes because I'm nonbinary and Molly (author) is trans so that feeds into my reading of the situation.

Kota's reaction to Nadani's body in that modest but slim fitting bodice was certainly fun. It was also very interesting that Nadani wasn't too discomforted by it and told Kota she didn't feel objectified by her visible bout of being a gay disaster. I wonder if its just because she's started to accept deep down that Kota does respect her autonomy or if its because of the way she's been developing feelings for Kota. More likely than not its some combination of both, but its gonna be a good time exploring either way.

[wickedlvst]

"can't you take me with you?", lainey asked in a tone so playful that it wasn't completely sure whether she was actually being serious or joking - to be perfectly honest, neither was she. though she tried her best to gloss over it, the blonde couldn't hide just how incredibly flattered she was by his compliment, smiling to herself as if she'd won the lottery. could anybody blame her, though? he was probably the cutest (and hottest) guy she'd talked to in ages and he seemed all too interested in her - it just had to be her lucky day, right? "i actually grew up here, which was boring as hell, and even though only an estranged aunt lives here anymore, i've never really managed to get away i guess? it's certainly not for a lack of wanting to, but college was never meant for me and i couldn't have paid for it anyway, and every city just seemed too far away to tackle on my own without a purpose there? it's probably silly, but as stupid as this job is, it doesn't pay too badly and i don't know, it feels kind of safe?" she paused, slim shoulders lifting and falling in a shrug. "like i said, it's silly. for a short while, i thought my boyfriend and i would get away from here, but he cheated on me with my colleague sandy so he's not really my boyfriend anymore." a little giggle pearled from her lips as her cheeks turned pink. "i'm sorry, i tend to ramble when i finally have someone to talk to that isn't completely wasted. you're probably not even interested in half of it. this town is just so incredibly dull? having a serial killer in town is easily the most exciting thing that's happened all of my life and that one's pretty dark and not really fun at all." plump lips curled into the perfect pout as she turned to look at him. "like i know it's horrible and i'm only saying it because we're never going to see each other again, but a part of me envies those girls. like obviously not the dying part, that sucks. like a lot. but at least they got to experience something more exciting than this stupid small-town life for a tiny moment?"

AND THERE IT WAS, his secret weapon. armed with chivalry and charm, the geniality always quick to cast upon his masculine features, nobody ever suspected benny. society naturally side-eyed the awkward and less aesthetically pleasing among them. already the fingers of the townsfolk had began pointing in the directions of the homeless population, of the loners and outcasts, of the old and off-putting. but none yet had voiced concern over the handsome stranger who rolled into town right before the months of carnage followed. ❝ buckle up, ❞ he told her, mirroring her wink with his own, shutting the car door behind her and heading around to his side. it didn't matter how many times the killer had struck before, it always amazed him how fucking easy it was to lure a target into his playground. hopefully he'd get to enjoy this new toy a whole lot longer than the others. ❝ i'm just moving on, ❞ he answered in response to the server's question, shrugging his shoulders as the vehicle roared to life and began to venture out of the parking lot. ❝ this town is...dull. besides drinking and hunting, there's not much else to do around here. there's not even many pretty girls left to distract me because some creep's killin' them all off. ❞ shot the blonde a small smile, catching sight of her tempting thighs on show and letting his gaze linger for a moment too long before he re-adjusted his attention to the road ahead. ❝ i think the most exciting thing that's happened to me since i've been here is chatting with you. i'm curious though - how did someone like you come to be in a place like this? you have family here? a boyfriend? ❞ someone who will miss you once you're mine?

[angelinpiink]

aot women as fuckbuddies + nsfw headcannons࿐ྂ。

❥ warnings: this content contains mention of sexual themes such as use of a strap on, pillow humping, panty sniffing, and cheating.

male character version here

mikasa

Your relationship with Mikasa probably started from being friends or even roommates. Being that the two of you often spend plenty of time together, it was pretty hard for Mikasa to suppress her attraction towards you. So  naturally, it didn't take much time before the two of you ended up hooking up. 

 Mikasa is obsessed with every bit of you but can be really subtle in showing it. from the sweet  scent of your pretty cunt to the lovely sounds you make when she plays with it she's absolutely in love. Her famed way of showing you is by taking care of you in any way possible. 

 She offers to do your makeup, style your hair and pick out an outfit just so she can be close to you —close enough to  put her hands on your body or let her breath fan across your ear and get you excited. just enough to get you feeling needy  and begging for her to take care of it. she won’t ever refuse.

All of your friends know that the two of you are hooking up, it's more likely that you were the one who spilled the beans on that. and Mikasa doesn't mind one bit as she has no interest in sharing.  It's made all the more obvious when the pair of you emerge from the bathroom with her black lipstick smeared across your lips and along your chest. Though yourfriends can only assume what went down in the bathroom, It’s her way of marking you :3

There's no doubt in my mind that mikasa has a mommy kink, hearing you use it makes her flustered and all the more eager to have you. “Need you so bad mommy..” she loves to hear you say, while she teases you through your panties, the juices from your cunt coating her finger tips.

Mikasa Isnt opposed to using the strap on you during sex. Before trying anything new,  however, she's  careful to make sure it's okay with you first. She’s just wants to spoil you keep you happy she does whatever you ask as long as you beg properly.

She’ll have you lie back on the bed spread your pretty thighs apart before pushing her tip between your puffy folds and fuck into you utnil you’re left trembling and begging for you to let her cum “Good girl, now cum for me.” she’ll mutter into your ear, thrusting deep into you one last time for good measure before you oblige. 

ymir

For starters, ymir isn't really one for receiving. Giving and being in control is what gets her off. This of course doesn't mean it's totally impossible that she’ll let you touch her just that the chances are slim. 

Given ymir’s personality, i imagine that your relationship as fuck buddies stemmed form her cracking jokes about it to just about everyone leaving your friends to think perhaps she was only speaking her fantasy  into a reality and you two would eventually sleep together. Needless to say, they were not wrong. 

Ymir is an absolute perv, even more so before the two of you started hooking up she’d grab at your ass, take upskirt videos  and whisper dirty things into your ear and once she got the reaction she wanted—seeing as you squeezed your thighs together or seeing you flustered she’d notify you that she was only kidding.

The brunette had no has no shame in touching you in public, she’ll have you riding her thigh while at a party with friends  and will even go as far as gaslight people into thinking they’re imagining it and weird for thinking it, throwing in a few insults here and there to seal the deal. “Stop being such a fucking creep.”

gets jealous to see you near anyone that isn’t her, she gets so grumpy and will often take it out on you through teasing the moment you two are alone she won't  let you cum no matter how much you beg or cry. and Much like eren (aot boys version) she’ll send videos of her ruining your cunt with her fat cock :( to whoever she feels is overstepping their boundaries. 

 Ymir is kind of a bully, gets a huge kick out of humiliating you. She thinks you’re cutest when you're so needy she has you crying for her fingers or the strap. Speaking of the strap..she treats it like it was her own, making you suck her off and fucking your face whenever she feels like it. 

Loves to bury her face into your cunt and make you cum on her tongue until your thighs tremble. You'll be begging her to slow down “p-please…no more..” to which she’ll tell you to shut up and be a good girl. “You wanna cream on my cock don't you?” to which you’ll nod your head and sit back and take it until she’s ready to stuff you full of her cock. 

annie

 Not interested in making things public, Wants to keep the nature of your relationship  secret to the point where she will even go as far as to  threaten you if you ever try to tell a soul. There are even times where she will act as though you two never met. 

 For starters, I imagine that the two of you either established your relationship through mutual friends or a one night stand after meeting her at your gym, you invited her out for drinks which lead to something more.  

That something more being the two of you ending up back at your apartment, fingers buried in each other's cunts, tasting each other's lips until both of you reach orgasm. Over and over again until one of you decides it's enough, Annie is usually the one to end your hook up session and she never spends the night on the very rare occasion, she’ll be long gone before you awake.  Once she dips you probably won't hear from her for weeks.

The blonde tries to act like you don’t hold much power over her when in reality it takes so little from you to make her needy and flustered. She thinks about 24/7 often dazing off into daydreams of  the way you taste and how good your skin feels against her own. She can't shake the images of you throwing your head back crying out while she devours you, letting her tongue lap at your pretty cunt. “F-fuck.”...absolute music to her ears.  

 Though shes not really big on sending nudes but doesn’t mind revising them from you in fact she has an album dedicated just to your nudes during those weeks of no contact she’ll fuck herself to your pictures imagining it was your fingers instead of her own when that doesn’t satisfy her, she’ll pick up the phone and call you asking to meet at the same place you always do and the cycle starts back up again. 

sasha

she’s pretty public about the nature of your relationship, everybody and their mother knows you and sasha are fucking. She's so happy to get to show you off.  even if you wanted to keep  it a secret it would be impossible since the brunette couldn't hold water if her life depended on it.

an innocent little perv, her intentions are never bad  she just simply follows her instincts. Is one hundred percent a panty sniffer. The fact that she’s your roommate only makes things easier for her. She thinks you smell so sweet and would do anything to have you sit on her face. 

She's so greedy and  can never get enough of you and isn’t afraid to show it either. She’s also quite impatient when it comes to getting her fix she’ll often call you whining whenever you’re gone too long  “miss the way you taste so bad baby wish you were here.” she’ll say a pout on her lips.  if you don’t answer or take too long to get back she’ll settle with humping your pillow wishing it was you til she makes a mess.

 

Though you two aren't official she acts as though you were taking you on dates, usually out to eat. She’s so happy to be around you so naturally you wouldn't be able to turn down her offers. In public, she’s so touchy and doesn’t even realize how she’ll be absent mindlessly massaging your boobs not even realizing the reaction it’s causing within you until you tell her.                                                                                                                                

  Once on her knees, she'll lift your leg over her shoulder watching you with dazed eyes. She likes to bury her face between your thighs and slurp at your clit, dipping her tongue between your folds.

 "ten times better than any meal I've ever had." she'll say savoring the  taste of you  as though you were a gourmet meal. Sasha  doesn't care how much  you squirm or  cry  out and beg for her to  slow  down.  She'll devour you until you're a  trembling mess on her tongue and even still she won’t stop. She's so good at what she does,you wouldn't want her to.

historia

pretends like you two are only friends in public, much like Annie she is eager to keep up appearances, the stakes being much higher as historia value’s her reputation. given that she has a boyfriend it would be pretty inconvenient for news of you two hooking up to get out and she spends every second reminding you of that. She invites you over for “sleepovers” as a coverup for asking for sex.

Kind of a pillow princess who expects you to do the work, her favorite thing being the two of you lifting up your skirts and rubbing your slobbery cunts together. on top of that she's also a perv but likes to accuse you of being one. She takes upskirt videos of you to rub her cunt to the moment she’s alone. 

Despite the fact that you too are friends she has a habit of being degrading.  “Go faster you dumb little slut.”  and of course you enjoy every second of it, doing just as she asks until you both cum on each other and later she’ll pretend to be pissed at you for the spot you left on her skirt.

Historia can be pretty possessive when it comes to you having other friends as well , she’ll  likely sabotage the friendship in hopes that it will bring you too close together and it surely does. You’ll show up at her doorstep crying and she’ll take you inside insulting whoever it is that hurt you and  offering to make you feel better. Being your best friend and all she knows is just what it takes too. 

here's my masterlist