#like why are you so obsessed with someone not having sex?? its embarrassing

[fun-k-boards]

M'LORD M'LORD PEOPLE ARE ASSUMING THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE REVOLVES AROUND SEX AGAIN

[hannieehaee]

what if girls noticed nerd jk was getting attention from mc and that made them curious enough to try and speak to him and mc gets a wittle jealous and possessive 👀👀👀👀🥹🥹🥹🥹

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, afab reader, smut, situationship implied, jealousy, penetrative sex, etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, extra

wc: 1897

a/n: loved this prompt omg thank u for requesting anonymity<333

masterlist

you weren't a jealous person. that just wasnt part of your personality.

never had you ever had to feel jealous about any boy you liked giving attention to someone else. nor did you think you'd ever have to.

so why was it that you were currently green with envy as you watched an unsuspecting jungkook be bombarded but the attention of three girls?

that was your boy toy, not theirs. you had been the one to find him and take him in and wreck his mind, so why were they suddenly so interested?

the two of you were supposed to meet in one of the many hallways leading to the campus' quad in order to head over to get some lunch before your tutoring session. however, after having waited over ten minutes leaning over the wall in which you'd usually wait for him, you began to grow annoyed. you walked around a bit, attempting to see if he was nearby, only to never locate him. even after a phone call and three texts (three!!!), there was no response from the boy. it wasn't until you walked over to the next hallway that you spotted him from afar, a shy mess as three girls surrounded him with flirty smiles.

one of them kept reaching out to touch at his chest, pulling at the neck of his dress shirt to reveal more of his skin – jungkook shyly took a step back, but the sight still bothered you. another annoyingly twirled her hair as she made eyes at him – jungkook's eyes didn't meet her own, but the implication made you far too angry. the last one had grabbed his phone from his hands, likely entering her contact info in it – this was the one that made you fume the most.

you weren't close enough to hear the conversation, but you could still see every single move and action coming from the girls, all targeted at your jungkook. you'd never felt this jealous in your lifespan.

sure, you weren't official with jungkook, but you still did not dare look at any other guy now that you had jungkook all to your disposition. how could you when you had such a pretty and obedient boy so obsessed with you?

soon enough, you grew far too annoyed at the sight, marching over there decisively, ready to rip heads off it necessary.

you made it close enough for jungkook to finally spot you behind the three girls, with them being too distracted by the pretty boy to realize you were currently standing at a short distance behind them. jungkook immediately perked up, features morphing into those of shock upon taking notice of the annoyance in your face. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, which alerted the girls of your presence, causing them to turn to you.

"baby-," is what slipped out of his mouth, immediately covering it in embarrassment.

rather than shocked or ashamed, the girls seemed bothered by the interruption, giving you looks of disdain and disgust while your eyes remained on jungkook.

"what are you doing with my boyfriend?", you finally spoke up, annoyance reeking from your voice.

"b-boyfriend?", asked jungkook, unable to mask the shy smile making its way to his face.

the most annoying girl of them all scoffed, jungkook's phone still in hand, "boyfriend?", she tilted her head to the side in mock curiosity.

stepping forward, you snatched the phone from her hand, grabbing onto jungkook's hand with the other and stepping in front of him before facing the girls again, "i'd appreciate it if you didn't hit on jungkook. he's taken," you said before marching away once more, dragging a willing jungkook along with you.

you didn't look back at all as you walked away, not even to check on jungkook. still annoyed, you held tightly onto his hand all the way to your dorm, not uttering a word at the boy the entire time.

~

"i'm so sorry, i didnt- hmph!"

"shut up, jungkook, just- just shut up," you rasped before attacking him with your lips.

the moment you made it into your dorm, jungkook was ready with apologies as soon as you closed your door, turning to you with his pretty doe eyes and a pout. you could tell on your way here that he noticed your discomfort at the previous confrontation, likely scared that you were mad at him.

but you could never be mad at him. you knew those girls only showed interest in him when you first noticed him. it had quickly become a hot topic when you and jungkook began to be spotted together hand in hand, though you never confirmed any type of relationship to anyone. you'd noticed more girls taking notice of jungkook ever since, but these had been the first ones to try and shamelessly take him from you.

so you dragged him home and pushed him up against the wall, not allowing a single word from his lips. you were far too bothered to have a conversation. you needed to confirm to yourself that jungkook was yours and that no one else could even go as far as looking at him with suggestiveness in their eyes.

"'m sorry- they- fuck, i didnt-"

the poor boy kept trying to sneak in apologies in between kisses, but your lips wouldnt stop attacking his own, sucking into his tongue until he submitted to your kiss.

eventually, your lips trailed down to his neck as your hands unbuttoned his dress shirt, wasting no time in running your hands up and down his sculpted physique. sometimes you cursed at yourself for never having noticed such a pretty boy before – especially when he'd been pining after you all along.

"hated seeing you with those girls," you grunted into his skin, nails scratching down his chest and abs, drawing a hiss from him, "so fucking annoying ..." you muttered.

"i didnt- i didnt realize they were flirting with me, i-im sorry," he stammered, too lost in your touch to give you a better explanation.

you disconnected from him, grabbing onto his belt loops and harshly pulling him into your living room, with him numbly following you. pushing him onto your couch, you threw off your shirt and wiggled your pants down before sitting on him, lips immediately finding his again.

"made me wait for you," you whined, "made me watch those girls be all over you ... so mean to me ..." you huffed into his lips.

he shook his head but continued kissing you, "m sorry ... 'm so- so sorry," he pleaded, hands digging into your hips and attempting to make them make contact with his own, but you persisted against it.

"you're sorry?", you asked, pulling away. grabbing onto his hands, you placed them on your bare tits, knowing it always made him crazy when you let him touch you, "you didn't look sorry back there, though?"

his eyes remained on your tits, hands shyly squeezing at them. his glasses were foggy by now, making you have to remove them to wipe them before putting them back on him, "i ... im so sorry," he mumbled again, without much thought. he kept biting his lips and looking down at your tits, head shyly tilting forward to seek permission to get them in his mouth.

"do you want them, kookie? you want those girls?", you sneered, throwing his hands off you and huffing above him, no longer sharing any contact apart from you sitting on him.

this woke him up from his lust-filled trance, "n-no! no, i could never- i want you! i only want- it's just you!," out of character, his hands went to wrap around you, pushing your against his chest. for once, he did not ask for permission as his lips went to your chest, desperately kissing and sucking at it as apologies left his lips.

you sighed in contentment, fingers running through his locks, "my kookie ... you're mine, right? only mine?", you asked, sighing again at how good he worshiped your body. his hands were restless as they felt up your hips and ass, attempting to push you against him so you'd grind on his hardening cock, this time successful.

he groaned at the friction, nodding into your chest, "yours ... y-your boyfriend," he sighed, nibbling at your nipple before softly licking at it.

"need ... fuck, need to show you you're mine," you decided, suddenly pulling away and drawing a whine from him. your hands went in between you to help him remove his pants, pulling them down low enough to pull his dick out.

"please ... show me. need you to show me ..." he cried before breaking his voice with a gasp, hands tightening around your waist when you lowered yourself onto him with no warning.

"m-mine, fuck- you're all mine," you rasped, open mouth against his own, unable to properly kiss due to the sudden stretch.

"t-tell me you're mine too ... please-", he begged, nosing at your cheek.

"'m yours, pretty. your girlfriend, hmm? just like- how you're my boyfriend. right, kookie?", you groaned out in between bounces, catching jungkook's groans right in your ear.

the poor boy did not stand a chance. your words got too him too easily, making him begin to beg to cum faster than expected, and far sooner than he usually did.

but you still needed to punish him a bit. even if he had been aware of the girls flirting with him, you had still been forced to bare witness to their grubby hands on him, a sight that still made you see red.

"can't cum, yet, bunny ... be good and wait for your girlfriend," you commanded lightly, "you'll be good, right, bunny? my pretty bunny ..." you rambled, slowing down your thrusts and leaning back so your clit would rub perfectly against his pelvis. it made you lightheaded.

he nodded without any other words, gasping every so often when you'd tighten around him. hands were greedy in how they dug into your plush skin. likely leaving marks.

"'m gonna cum, bunny," you revealed, "gonna give it all to you ... with me? hmm? cum with me, baby?", you were a mess just as he was, whining out every word pathetically.

yet he fared far worse than you, unable to form any words, simply whining your name as he nodded against your skin.

taking this as a green light, you let yourself go, continuing to bounce crazily on him whilst your orgasm took over you, eyes rolling back when you felt him find his high along with you.

"s-so good ... m-mine ... only want you ... just y-you," he grunted, falling back against the couch with eyes shut close.

you let yourself fall against him, nuzzling into his warm chest and drawing patterns on his skin with your fingers, refusing to make a move to slip him out. wrapping his arms around you, he gave you the impression he also wanted you to remain there.

"i'm sorry," he started, "id never flirt with anyone who wansnt you ... too shy to even flirt with you in the first place," he chuckled shyly.

"it's okay, bunny. just like you so much ... it drove me crazy to see them think they could just have you like that," you grumbled, kissing his skin to calm your annoyance at the memory.

"i only want you," he reassured, hands caressing your back softly.

"me too, bunny."

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[letstripdotcom]

truth- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n- i’m obsessed with matt in this car video⬆️

summary- you’re curious on how good your sex is so you ask the one person who you know will be brutally honest.

warnings- smut. that’s all🕺🕺

-

“i wish i could be a man but not me so then I could have sex with myself and tell myself if it’s good or not” i rambled on the phone with one of my best friends, nick sturniolo.

“y/n what the fuck?” he laughed. “i mean i- i don’t know it’s just a thought.” i sighed. “well if i liked women i would have sex with you” “thanks nick” i giggled

“why not just ask someone you’ve had sex with?” he asked very casually. “i don’t know i just feel like they wouldn’t be brutally honest” “yeah i guess you’re right. i mean you could always just ask a friend do have sex with you” he suggested.

“yeah, but who?” there was a moment of silence and thinking “mason?” he tilted his head “i haven’t talked to him in months, i feel like that would be way too awkward.” there was another brief pause “noah is cool what about him?”

“i’m pretty sure he had something going on with paisley.” “well fuck” nick said. “well i love you dearly but i gotta go. talk you you later love youuu!” he hung up the phone. i sat down an let out a long sigh. i don’t know why i was so bothered by this.

-

i pondered on the subject for days, until i found answers upon overhearing a conversation between matt and chris. i didn’t hear the whole thing but i did manage to overhear matt say “do you ever wonder if your dick is too small but everyone who has seen it is just to embarrassed to tell you?”

matt! it was perfect. i needed answers and so did he. the plan was to have sex with matt and you would tell him if his dick is small and he’ll tell me if my sex is any good. but how would i even approach that? “hey matt let’s have sex because we’re both insecure” yeah no

i sat on the sturniolos couch as you waited for the pair to go up to their rooms. when they were finally settled in upstairs, i started thinking of how you were going to ask matt. i decided to just go for it.

-

matty b

you

hey matt are you up?

matty

yeah what’s up?

you

well this may seem insane so you can say no if you want but i overheard you talking to chris earlier and i was wondering if we could make a deal.

matty

i’m listening

you

so i was wondering if we could like have sex? and i could tell you if your dick is small and you tell me if my sex is good. and we have to be brutally honest

matty

upstairs in 10?

you

see you then.

-

i shut off my phone and mentally prepared myself for what was to come. normally having sex never made me nervous, but first thing, this is matt. second thing, he’s actually gonna be brutally honest. what if i’m awful? and as bad as it sounds, what if his dick is small?

after 10 minutes passed, i headed upstairs to matt’s room. i knocked on his door and he opened it shortly after, wearing grey pajama pants and no shirt. i examined his body carefully.

the veins in his tattooed arm that’s holding the door open. the way his pants hung low on his small waist, revealing part of his boxers. his v line. his messy hair. i started to get nervous. please don’t be bad. i said to myself.

“we’ll come in” he said nervously, stepping out of the way. “so how are we gonna go about this?” i shrugged. “well we could-“ matt stopped. his hand reached out and cupped the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss.

once i eased into it, it was nice. matt’s lips were soft and plump, and he was very gentle. his unoccupied hand made its way to my waist, gently rubbing it. his tongue grazed my bottom lip, asking for access to the inside of my mouth. i let him in, and his tongue explored all of my mouth.

matt was a really good kisser and it was really turning me on. he gently made his way from my lips, to my jaw to my neck. he suckled gently enough not the leave any marks. i let out a quiet breathy moan.

he positioned both hands under my shirt and slid it off my body. he started to kiss the bare skin on my chest. wow he knows what he’s doing. he guided me to his bed and sat me on top of him.

i raked my nails gently down his bare chest, meeting the waistline of his pants. i looked at him for permission to continue and he nodded. i pulled his pants off, leaving him in his boxers.

i leaned forward and kissed him, grinding on his bulge that was only being held back by one thin layer of clothing. he grunted which seemed like a good sign

he reached around me and unhooked my bra, sliding it off. his mouth left mine and attached to one of my nipples, his hand massaging the other. i tossed my head back in pleasure. “fuck mattt” i whined. he hummed around my nipple causing me to grind harder onto him.

he separated from my chest and looked me in the eyes. “ready?” he asked “y-yeah” i nodded. he slipped down my shorts and underwear and i removed his boxers.

his dick sprung up and slapped his stomach. i swallowed nervously. definitely isn’t small. all the more reasons to be nervous. i looked at it with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

“well?” he muttered. “umm..” i paused trying to find words “definitely not small. like at all. you have nothing to worry about” i rambled “okay” he laughed. “well, my turn i guess” i sigh, lifting myself up. i slowly start to sink my way onto him. he lets out a broken whimper.

“i- fuck f-feels so good already” he gasps. i exhale the breath i didn’t know i was holding. i adjust to his size before bouncing slowly, wincing at the slight stretch. i moan at the feeling of my sticky walls hugging him.

i gradually speed up my pace. his hips start to buck upwards, meeting me halfway. this helps achieve a deeper angle. “g-good. you feel so good baby” i moan and clench at the way he said ‘baby’

“keep clenching and i won’t last much longer” he breathes. “i’m so close” i moan. “fuck y/n” he whines. i clench again, my stomach muscles tightening. “f-fuck say my name like that again” i beg “y-y/n” he moans, his voice cracking.

i came all over his dick, my legs a twitching mess. “yes yes yes. fuck matt” i whine as i ride his to his release. “i’m cumming. f-fuck yes. oh feels so good” he shouts praises as he cums. i lift myself off of him and sit down, catching my breath.

“so?” i asked. “fuck that was amazing, you have nothing to worry about. he lets out shaky breaths and collapses into my chest.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- didn’t know how to end this but enjoy 😜

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Extracurriculars (S.R.)

Summary: Reader saves her TA from a frathouse.

Request: gradstudent!Spencer getting dragged to a frat party and hooking up with a girl in her undergrad (someone he's been interested in) A/N: Who wouldn’t want to deflower sweet Spencer? Characters are both around 21. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Virgin!Spencer, frat house, college party, alcohol, drunken sexual activity, heavy petting, kissing, making out, loss of virginity (male) penetrative sex, protected sex (condom), TA/Student relationship Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

When I was younger, my mother taught me a few key lessons about growing up. She had to teach me those things because, while they seemed to come naturally to other kids, they never came to me.

It seemed fundamentally unfair that I could do the quadratic formula before I could tie my shoes. Of course, with that, I could just insist I preferred Velcro. My inability to recognize the socially acceptable way to care for my body, or even recognize the signals it was sending to me, was a little harder to explain. It was even harder to calibrate.

By the time I reached college, I became obsessed with cleanliness to an unhealthy degree. I would avoid any situations where I could find myself fixated on dirt beneath my fingernails or anything that could be even tangentially described as ‘sticky.’

I was petrified of being perceived as anything but pure. I had been that way for long enough that it had basically become my defining character trait.

And then, on one very lonely and poorly planned night in grad school, I decided to challenge the idea that I could only be one thing.

That night, I went to a frat house.

Between the pulsing speakers that measured up to my hips and the remnants of discarded beer bottles, I realized that I had made a number of miscalculations—the kind that my mother had most certainly not prepared me for.

“Come on, man, live a little!” the student beside me shouted over impossibly loud music.

I hadn’t the slightest clue what he was asking me to do, but I could tell from the taunt that my answer would be the same regardless:

“N-No thanks.”

I looked down at the glass bottle still dripping beer from its lip. My stomach churned at the sight. I was so distracted by the thought of spit coating the finish that I had failed to connect the dots to realize that the group was planning to play the aptly named game ‘spin the bottle.’

That was, until the older but somehow less mature man to my side jeered, “Why not? Have you never kissed a girl before?”

My cheeks burned with some mixture of embarrassment and rage. I’d hoped that they would confuse it for drunkenness, if they’d thought about it at all.

I wanted to open my mouth to defend my decision without sounding pathetic, but my lips stayed tightly shut.

Then, just a second before the pause became awkward, a second voice chimed in.

“Piss off, idiot.”

I heard her right before I felt her. Her arm slung around my neck brought with it the comforting scent of jasmine and vanilla. Her heated skin somehow stayed warm but never sticky, and my body quickly corrected its instinct to move closer to her.

She’s my student, I reminded myself.

My favorite student, though.

Although the feeling was shared by the man she was speaking to, he wasn’t so clear about it. He seemed almost sarcastic when he shouted, “Whoa! Careful there (y/n), you might make me think you like me.”

By contrast, she was outright in her apathy when she droned, “No one likes you.”

“Ouch,” he replied with a hand clutching his chest, “You wound me.”

I’d half expected her to respond to him in kind. My mind ran a million confusing calculations to try to determine whether this was just harmless flirting or actual annoyance. All I knew for certain was that my chest burned with jealousy that dissipated within a second of her speaking again.

“Hey cutie, which of these jackasses brought you here?” she asked so sweetly I could taste sugar on my tongue as I tried to answer.

“Huh? Oh, u-uh. No… jackasses.”

Smooth as the cheap liquor we’re drinking.

“Yeah, right,” she chuckled in disbelief before explaining, “That’s all that’s here besides you.”

… Besides me?

“You wanna leave?”

My heart stopped at the mere thought. For a moment, I convinced myself that I had fantasized the question. Perhaps someone had slipped something into my drink that had turned me into a blubbering fool. Perhaps it was something more nefarious.

She wouldn’t.

Wouldn’t what?

“What?” I asked.

Before she could clarify, the now very unwelcome third presence chimed in, “He just got here! Let him stay.”

I watched as she bristled in response. Her fingernails dug slightly into my shoulder and she pulled me closer.

It must have been instinct. There was no way she could have meant it on purpose.

It felt nice, though, to be closer to her.

“I also just got here, and yet, I want to leave,” she sneered.

When he made a motion to touch her shoulder the same way she’d been touching mine, she jumped back with a stern warning.

“Touch me and lose at least one testicle.”

He put his hands up in surrender. She scoffed. Her hand dropped from my shoulder, but I never had time to miss her. She took my hand so quickly that I didn’t have time to think about my response. So, I held hers back.

My heart had finally made up its mind before she spoke.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’re leaving,” she ordered.

I followed.

“W-Where are we going?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know. Somewhere else.”

She turned to look at me with the utmost skepticism, or, dare I say it, fascination with what she found.

“You have somewhere to be?” she asked.

“Um… no?”

I prayed it had been the right answer.

It was.

“Wanna come back to my place?” she offered with a smile, “It’s not far from here.”

She’d said it so casually that I couldn’t help but feel I’d missed something. Surely, she couldn’t be offering the normal incidental activities typically involved with accompanying someone ‘back to their place.’

I had been so certain of it that I’d even possessed the courage to ask.

“Uh… to do… what?”

She laughed. It wasn’t a painful sound; it was kind and airy. The music of her laughter lined the increasingly quiet streets as the music faded away in the background.

“You’re cute,” she hummed. Then, with a wicked smirk, she purred, “You got something in mind?”

My face filled with what felt like half the blood in my body. The rest went to another, somehow even more embarrassing aspect of my anatomy.

She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed emboldened and excited by how smitten I seemed. It all felt so idyllic that I didn’t even question when she’d taken my hand in hers again.

“Come on, cutie,” she instructed.

My heart quivered at the compliment. I didn’t even try to convince myself that it had been uttered with condescension or sarcasm. I enjoyed, even just for a moment, the idea that I might be seen as something desirable to her.

I had many reasons not to trust women like her. I had been burned in the past, with ropes and blindfolds that still felt paralyzing. But in that moment, those cruel memories felt worlds away.

She had just seemed so… calm. So happy to flaunt our intertwined fingers no matter how many familiar faces we passed.

“What were you doing in a place like that, anyway?” she asked.

I laughed before I thought not to.

“Did I seem that uncomfortable?”

“Weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was.”

The admission didn’t seem as humiliating as I’d expected it to. The girl swaying closer with each step seemed pleased at the answer. I realized that she might’ve carried her own concern that perhaps she had overstepped bounds by assuming she was doing me a favor.

“Thanks for saving me,” I reassured her.

“Please,” she sighed, “I was looking for a reason to leave.”

It was a genuine, if not puzzling statement. Although I’d failed to realize in the moment, I would come to learn that we had both arrived at the party with the exact same motivations.

“Why’d you go then?” I asked.

The glitter on her face paled in comparison to her eyes among the streetlights. While she stared at me, I lost myself in the mesmerizing cascade of fluttering incandescence among the backdrop of her irises.

It was not the alcohol in my veins that made my cheeks tinge pink. It was not the bitter heat of the drought, nor the fear of whatever was making my shoes stick to cement.

It was the sound of her sigh and the way she looked at me like I might know the solution to the problem that landed us there together.

“Hell if I know,” she laughed solemnly. “Lonely, I guess.”

That makes two of us, I wanted to say. But it could be zero. If you wanted it to.

I wasn’t drunk enough to say that, though. Just enough to not stop the seemingly rude question from slipping out.

“Do any of those people actually… like each other?”

“Definitely not,” she laughed again.

I wanted to hear it again, but I didn’t know how to make sure of that.

So, instead, I just smiled and said, “Noted.”

By some miracle, she giggled again. Once she finished, she turned to look at me. At first, I met her eyes, but the intensity caused a shiver to spark throughout my entire body. Goosebumps rippled as my heart struggled to make sense of the feelings her eyes stirred inside me.

She laughed again. I wouldn’t care if it was the hundredth time. I savored the sweet sound in each of its iterations.

With her bitten lip and her half-lidded eyes, she swayed closer to me until our bodies bumped. I wondered if she could feel the way I shivered in response.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re cute,” she answered.

It was such a strange thing for her to repeat that the insecurity riding the waves of alcohol bubbled over again.

“You aren’t drunk, right?”

Again, she laughed.

Again, I begged.

“No, silly! I know my limits.”

She certainly hadn’t been shy with sharing the lack of them, either. Her arm wrapped around mine and pulled me even closer. It took every bit of focus I could muster not to trip and bring an end to the most wonderful waking dream.

Of course, that focus vanished almost immediately once I realized what part of her anatomy was now pressed against my arm.

So soft and warm and—

“Why are you worried about it, anyway?” she hummed.

At the same time, she dipped her head down to force me to meet her eyes instead of staring at her chest. Somehow, that wasn’t the most humiliating part of the exchange. No, that honor was reserved for the question that followed.

“Are you sure you don’t have any extracurriculars in mind for when we get to my place?”

“I was just making sure!” I yelped in the most pathetic kind of defense. It took me a moment and her own wayward glances down my body to realize that the tease hadn’t been an accusation.

If anything, it felt more like an offer.

Pride and confusion swelled in my chest. In the chaos, a few words tumbled out of my mouth that I hadn’t pre-prepared.

“I-I mean, you keep calling me cute, so… Sounds like something a drunk girl would say,” I laughed.

She didn’t, though. Instead, she came to a sudden stop and her lips curled into a slightly unnerving curvature. A hungry, stomach turning desire for… something.

Me?

It couldn’t be.

I stopped, too, holding my breath and waiting for some permission or instruction to do anything but wait. Thankfully, she turned and climbed the stairs of what I could now safely assume was her porch.

She threw the door open without further fanfare but a little bit of a tease.

“Get inside, idiot,” she laughed.

I followed her instruction. Of course, I paused at the door and waited for her to show me the way. I nearly passed out when she intertwined our fingers once more and led me through the darkness of her otherwise unoccupied apartment.

My training to hopefully get into the FBI would have had me carefully inspecting her surroundings to learn more about this tantalizing woman. It wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I knew there was no way I could focus on anything other than how it felt when she looked at me.

Especially then. Together in the light polluted darkness, she didn’t stray too far. Even when she reached behind me to shut the door to her room, she lingered.

I stumbled backwards, not in fear, but as a horrible overcorrection to what I wanted to do.

To my surprise, it didn’t dissuade her.

In fact, she came even closer. She stepped forward until her chest was pressed against mine and her breath ghosted over my ear.

“Was he right, by the way?”

“Who?”

She let go of my hand and began trailing her fingers softly up my arm until I honestly couldn’t see straight anymore.

I wanted her so badly. Almost on cue, she splayed her hand across my lower back and held my hips against hers.

Again, I whimpered. Again, she giggled.

Her hips rolled forward against my now very prominent erection wedged between us. Just before she spoke, she took a sharp inhale that was released with a shaky breath.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” she asked.

I couldn’t even think to speak, let alone lie.

I shook my head no. Her free hand immediately tangled in my hair, tilting my head to the side just to see whether I would resist.

I didn’t.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

That time, I had to say something. I was too afraid the moment would slip away.

“Um… are you… asking me to kiss you?”

Immediately, she returned the question with a question.

“Are you telling me no?”

“No!”

Her hand in my hair held me steady while she retreated. The room felt hopelessly cold without her body heat.

“No, no, I’m not telling you no,” I babbled while she looked on with that same wicked smile. “As in, I think my answer is… yes?”

Before I could resort to begging, she closed the distance between us. Her hands held my cheeks and pulled me forward until our lips crashed together.

I knew my kissing her was clumsy and naive, but I couldn’t help it. The moment I tasted faded fruit flavored chapstick, my mind gave up on any hope for reason.

Just when I thought she was done with me, she kissed me again. She kept kissing me—the action becoming sloppier and sweeter with every passing second.

Her hands dropped to grip fistfuls of my shirt at the same time mine jumped to cup her face.

She was so soft. The pillowy feeling of her lips made me forget how much I normally hated stickiness on my skin. Because I loved how it felt when her lips lingered.

I would’ve kissed her for hours, forever, but she ended that hope with a firm tug of my shirt before she tossed me towards her bed.

My heart leapt into my throat. It lodged itself just behind the Adam’s apple like it could hide its blatant affection from her somehow.

She stalked closer like she had before. She drew feathery patterns up my goosebump riddled arms before she whispered in my ear.

“You’re fun to kiss.”

“I-Is it bad?” I stammered, for some reason.

“No, it’s fun,” she repeated.

She didn’t dwell for a second on my insecurity and momentary idiocy. Instead, she began lowering her fingers down my stomach and giggling as she felt the muscles tense.

“You wanna do something more fun, Spencer?”

Completely lacking any oxygen, I breathed, “Like what?”

“You’re a genius, right?”

Just like that, she firmly grabbed hold of me through my pants. I responded with a broken, strangled cry that fell away the moment she started to drum her fingers against the burning fabric. 

“Do I need to say it?” she teased.

Her tongue peeked out between her teeth when she pulled back to look at me. At the same time, she began palming my erection with such familiarity that I nearly fell apart in her hand.

“Fuck,” I groaned involuntarily.

“Never heard you talk like that before,” she whispered, “Hope it’s a nice word.”

Euphoria flooded my senses that were dangerously heightened by the alcohol I’d consumed to make it through the party. Not enough to be inebriated, but enough to make me stupid.

Even more stupid than I was already made by the blood pooling in the appendage fighting against my pants.

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” I gasped. My hips started bucking against her, and for a moment, I thought she would grant me mercy.

But then her hand slowed to a stop.

“Gonna have to stop if you want to get to the fun part,” she cooed.

Half-joking, I slurred back, “Is this not the fun part?”

Then the world came to a standstill, the universe pausing its incessant tumbling to allow me to hear her next words with a crystal-like clarity.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?”

I nodded without hesitation or shame.

“Use your pretty voice,” she chastised so kindly it made my heart ache.

“Yes,” I pleaded. “Yes, I want to f-fuck you.”

She smiled and it didn’t feel like a mockery, somehow.

“Good,” she chirped. Then, without hesitation, she began steadfastly undoing my pants.

She seemed so skilled at the movements that I doubted whether she’d had any alcohol at all.

I’d been so caught up in the wonder of her that every ounce of fight left my body. I let her undress me and barely managed to help in my stupor.

She still didn’t mind. The smile on her face persisted the entire time.

“Lay down,” she commanded.

I followed. I scrambled back onto her bed without ever taking my eyes off her.

She moved so elegantly, so graceful as she stripped and presented me with the most beautiful sight. My heart was pounding so hard against my rib cage that I was worried it might break free to find her.

Yet when she finally crawled on top of me, my body tried to sink into the mattress. As if to stop me, she wrapped her devilishly warm fingers around my dick.

Still, I’d managed to squeak, “Aren’t you worried that we’re… moving a little fast?”

“Are you worried?” she shot back without judgement.

My mind was caught in two types of fog, however. I tried to breathe through it, tried to think of anything besides how nice it felt when her fingers ghosted over the bare tip, but I couldn’t.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” I laughed again, the words getting caught on soft moans still pouring from my mouth.

“You tell me,” she dared.

Then she kissed me. This time, she didn’t stop at my lips. Her lithe tongue slipped between my teeth and nearly wrapped around my own.

The muffled sounds of pleasure between us were getting harder to bear. That energy, the pent up frustration of almost a full year of wanting her had to come out somehow.

I grabbed her hips harder than I thought I was capable of. My nails dug into soft flesh and it caused her to make the most beautiful sound.

That beautiful girl gasped before she moaned against my cheek. Her hips dug harder into my lap, bucking against the hardness wedged between her thighs.

I dragged my nails down her legs, surprising us both at how much I loved to watch her writhe.

Still, I knew she was the one in control. She looked down at me like a toy that played perfectly along with her fantasies.

I wanted to let her have her way with me. But when she leaned over my body, I couldn’t stop myself. My lips caught her breast the moment she came close enough.

My hands were gentler there, palming at the supple tissue that slipped between my fingers. I lavished the hardened peak at the center for as long as she would let me, suckling at her breast like a man starved.

Eventually, though, she wound a hand through my hair and pulled me back against the pillow.

In my daze, I hardly noticed the condom in her hand until she rolled the latex over my dick.

Suddenly, and without thinking, I sputtered out a confounding command.

“Wait!”

She froze. Her flushed chest heaved, still glistening with evidence of my affection.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with the most genuine concern.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine, I just…” I tried to assure her and myself.

The poor girl looked horrified, like she was waiting for me to condemn her for her absolutely delightful enthusiasm up to this point.

It was such a silly worry that it almost made me laugh. It almost made the vulnerability that would follow feel like no risk at all.

“I need to tell you something first,” I explained.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at her. I really looked at her—that dazzling star of a girl. My student, my favorite student that I’d watched and lusted over in every class. My mind simmered with that feeling; the knowing that the thing I coveted most might actually be mine.

“I… like you,” I said.

Less eloquent than I’d hoped.

If her bubbly, wholehearted laugh was any indication, she still didn’t mind.

“Well, I’d sure hope so!” she snickered.

I felt compelled to explain.

“No, I mean, I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, I really like you,” I insisted.

That time when she kissed me, it felt like her own confession. Scooting forward until her heat was pressed against my own, she sighed happily against my lips.

“You’re so sweet, Spencer,” she hummed, “I really like-like you, too.”

Even though my mind tried to deny it, my foolhardy heart recognized the truth in her words. It clung to her the same as my hands drifting over the new marks on her thighs.

“But we don’t have to do this,” she assured me. “Do you want to do this, or do you want to stop?”

“I want you so bad,” I whined without any hesitation. “Please, please—I want you.”

That cruel twist of her lips returned. The sound of my begging urged her on until she lifted herself just above where I wanted her. She leaned forward again, propping herself up above me while her hair tickled my face.

“Kiss me,” she slurred against my lips.

I did. I kissed her even more feverishly than before and used all the air in my chest to worship her.

I was convinced my lungs would collapse when she finally started to ease her way onto my aching cock. Each second of tortuous pleasure, the scorching heat of her enveloping me like flames kissing desiccated wood.

My jaw was dropped open, my mouth losing all moisture as I panted and twitched with pleasure. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I saw her. I watched as she winced at how far her walls had to stretch around me.

Yet I felt her desire dripping at the base of me, glistening the same as my spit spread across her breast.

“That’s it, baby,” she purred as she settled at the base of me.

I looked down at where I’d disappeared inside of her and decided it was better than any magic trick I’d ever hoped to master.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered when she saw the wonder in my eyes.

Involuntarily, my hips bucked into her and made her gasp. Then, still without meaning to, I did it again.

“Yes,” I hissed when she tightened her walls around me.

“My sweet boy,” she cooed between breathy laughter, “You’re so fucking precious. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

As if she hadn’t already.

But I would come to bite my tongue quicker than the words could make it out. Because for all the pleasure her descent had brought, it couldn’t compare to the feeling of her hips subtly rocking throughout her ascent.

My body actually trembled, overcome with the unadulterated pleasure of her careful rolling up and down my dick. It seemed insane for such a simple motion to render me absolutely dumbfounded, but it did.

I didn’t say a word. The only thing spilling from my lips were moans and butchered attempts at her name.

My hands, however, wandered. They traced her silhouette and groped whatever softness it could find. They settled, naturally, at her breasts. Through the motions of curious, clumsy fingers, I felt her heart beating harder against my palm.

As its speed increased, so did that of her hips. She came down harder while the pitch of her moans grew higher and more airy.

“Spencer,” she whined.

It sounded like starlight igniting deep in my chest. I felt that tension growing in my gut, threatening to bring an end to the wonder of loving her.

“Wait,” I grunted. My hands fell to her hips and halted her movements before I begged, “Sl-Slower.”

She obliged me. With her head tipped back and her hands on my chest, she rode me so slowly that I could feel every detail of her twitching muscles.

“You’re so beautiful,” I groaned.

My hips caught me off guard as they started to move. They bucked up into her with increasing intensity until it broke her rhythm.

That beautiful girl fell forward, barely catching herself before she collapsed against my body.

“Fuck me, Spencer,” she mumbled against my neck. She interrupted her own pleas with sloppy kisses against my jugular that lit my body on fire.

That passion was quickly muted by her words, however. Because that was when she growled, “Take me, Spencer. I’m yours.”

I’d never been a particularly strong man, but there was absolutely nothing that would stop me then. My hands splayed over the back of her thighs and lifted her just enough for my hips to move freely.

She clung to me, her arms wrapped around my neck and her whole body rippling with each collision of our hips.

I fucked her harder, my hands carving the memory into her skin and my jaw clenched so tightly I thought I might draw blood from my tongue.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” she purred.  “Give it to me.”

Then, just before I found my peak, I felt it. The unmistakable feeling of pulsing muscles as her body seized in my hold.

I gasped, choking on a moan as I felt her body begging me to fill her with the full extent of my desire.

I emptied myself into the condom and wished that it could have been her instead. I felt the warmth dripping back down me and dared to wonder what it would have looked like on her now-marked thighs.

“Good boy,” she snickered like she could read those fantasies raging in my mind. “That’s my good boy.”

She lifted her head just enough to plant one final kiss on my forehead, and then she promptly collapsed against my chest. I welcomed her weight despite the lack of air. Breathing hardly seemed important compared to her comfort.

And it was comfortable for me, too. As I nuzzled against her neck, I found a sense of home that I’d never felt before.

She was sticky with sweat and spit from haphazard kisses, but she was so beautiful that I barely even noticed.

When she got off of my lap, I missed her immediately. My hand chased hers and, to my unending pleasure, she let me hold it. She lingered for as long as she could before she excused herself and left me to clean up the evidence of what we’d done.

Her room was still as quiet as before. The heavy bass from the frat house felt lifetimes away. The alcohol still swirled in my bloodstream, doing little to warm my now freezing body.

When she walked back through the door, my body flooded with relief. I watched as she grabbed all of my clothing she’s tossed around and placed each piece on the nightstand.

There was a strange sadness in her eyes that I would’ve done anything to remedy.

“Hey, uh…” I started, yet my throat closed when she looked at me.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I-I have a question,” I said.

Then paused, again.

She smiled. When that didn’t serve as answer enough, she laughed.

“Yeah?”

That lovely sound granted me the confidence to finally ask the question I’d been pondering since the moment I stepped into her room.

“Are… Are you still lonely?”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but her smile grew even brighter. Abandoning starlight for the full force of the sun that would soon peek over the horizon.

“Not so much anymore,” she answered bashfully.

I smiled, too. With a playful tilt to my shrug, I asked her one more question that begged for an answer.

“Can I stay anyway?”

Again, she giggled.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

“So would I,” I told her.

And so, we did.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

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[taffybear]

i noticed you're a fellow Leo stan, what are your hcs regarding... mating season???

oooo i love this question!!! i have...... ideas.....

obviously 18+ so if you don't like that don't read ahead!

I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS TO BE SO LONG LMAO I JUST STARTED WRITING AND COULDNT STOP

Leonardo mating season headcanons~

baby fever to the extreme. literally if he even lets his mind wonder while in this state he'll just revert to thinking about babies. it's honestly odd to see him like this, but it also makes a lot of sense that he fantasizes about being a father. i mean, he was built for it. and so mating season also doubles as a bit of a depressing time for him as he considers that he can't actually give you a baby (YALL I AM SORRY BUT ITS BIOLOGICALLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR THE TURTS TO GET ANY HUMAN PREGNANT IDC WHAT YALL SAY but at least it adds angst :3)

his sensitivity levels also go through the roof at this time. he becomes even less tolerable of his brothers, especially Raphael, so consequently he comes over even more often to fuck the anger out of himself, by fucking you, how sweet. but also more than ever he needs to have someone just listen to him. usually he's the listener in your relationship, in most of his relationships really, but now he just needs to say whatever is on his mind and complain about whatever is bothering him without judgement.

the first couple of days into mating season is always a surprise to him, and he won't tell you immediately. he'll avoid the topic for as long as possible, actually. even if that means avoiding and ignoring you (although it won't last long). and you won't notice it at first either, he really only does tiny things like putting off replying to your texts, or making excuses why you shouldn't come over or invite him to your place.

but when he finally fesses up, it's only when he just can't restrain himself anymore and only talking/fucking you can fix him. it's all very embarrassing for him at first, to confess this (what he considers) dirty dark secret of his. and then to admit he needs your help to relieve himself of this burden, it makes him nauseous to imagine at first. he hates not being able to control himself through this period, to have to come crawling to you for relief, for him to feel so vulnerable. but once you assure him you are nothing but happy to help, and mating season obviously doesn't make you love him any less, he calms down a bit.

he needs lots of verbal and physical reassurance during the season. now more than ever he's desperate for your touch, sexual or not. he needs hugs and gentle kisses everywhere, he also loves resting his head in your lap as you read to him. he really just needs peace at this time.

there's lots of self contempt during his mating season too. he turns into a bit of a sex obsessed beast, every other thought of his being about how bad he wants to be inside of you, how bad he wants you full with his seed. he disgusts himself by feeling so desperate and in ache. i CANNOT stress how much you need to praise and comfort him now, most likely he won't outright tell you how he feels but just prepare to have open arms when this time of year comes around.

before mating season Leonardo wouldn't even consider having sex without foreplay first, but now he can't even muster through it. he tries his hardest to put you before himself, to thoroughly get you in the mood, but the throbbing something something just really can't wait.

on the upside y'all never need lube! he's dripping with precum by the time your panties come off.

he is constantly blushing. no matter how long y'all have been together, he still feels really self conscious during the season. with the loss of his hard-earned self control and restraint he feels like everything he does is involuntary, the result of him simply not feeling like himself. but it's adorable when you just softly graze his hardness and he lets out a soft moan before slapping his hand over his mouth.

because he doesn't feel like himself and isn't confident in how much control he has over himself, he's very frightened to actually have sex with you. he's horrified something will come over him as soon as he sees you spread out for him, so exposed for him... he's scared to hurt you, reasonably so. it was already tough the first few times you were together intimately with his size and strength, but at least then he had full control over his movements and thrusts. now he has more to worry about, but mostly how you might see him afterward. what if you see this possessive animalistic side of him and decide it's all too much for you? he turns a small realistic concern into a nonsensical slippery slope that only you can convince him is just him being paranoid. you know he could never hurt you, no matter what, so you just have to soothe and reassure him. obviously, he's the sub a lot of nights.

when he does dominate--after you do lots of coaxing and persuading that he shouldn't worry and you want this as bad as he does--he's very considerate of you the whole time you're in bed. very slow and thoughtful thrusts, more than usual at least, and he doesn't let himself go very deep at first. simply concerned with staying in control and not letting his mind wander, not letting out a peep as he tries to keep his breathing even. but when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down and into a deep passionate kiss, willing him to go deeper and letting him actually enjoy this moment, he will loosen up and eventually allow himself to be in the moment with you. some nights are passionately slow and under constraint, while others are rougher when he's more desperate for relief and fed up with longing so bad for you.

he cums much faster during mating season, but on the plus side he's ready to go another round in under a minute. he could go 4-5 rounds most nights but you both usually call it a night when you're sore and visibly exhausted, but satisfied enough for the both of you.

he's very specific about wanting all his seed to end up in your cunt instead of anywhere else. at the end of the night you're FULL of his love. he'll use his finger to plug you up while you cuddle, or while he covers your belly in wet kisses.

the aftercare is top tier obviously, just like always. he makes sure you're comfortable and tended to before he lets himself rest in the bed to sleep. after sex, the second he manages to get out of your grasp he runs to the kitchen to get you water.

when Leo comes over to your place (which he does for most of the season) he's very clingy. he hates being in a seperate room than you, or not touching you while you're sitting on the couch or just casually laying in bed. you also absolutely deliver on blow jobs and hand jobs throughout the day. sometimes just a glance at how he reacts to you bending over to pick up something, or how he lingers at your neck to smell your hair, you know what needs to happen next. lots of quickies--gentle palming through his clothes while he washes the dishes, sliding your warm hand down his boxers while you're both sprawled out on the couch watching TV, quietly joining him while he's in the shower and greeting him with an open mouth. all in moderation to prepare you both for what the night has in store.

Leo is SO EMBARRASSED after mating season ends, when he thinks back to all the downbad things he said or the desperate things he did, he just can't think about it for too long or he won't stop cringing. he's one of those people who can't relate or imagine something until he actually experiences it in the moment, so before every mating season he tells himself that this is gonna be the one he finally keeps control of himself and successfully stifles the hormones (yeah ok sure chief).

[flowerandblood]

The Sin & The Penance

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, revenge motive, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night he could not sleep – he wriggled in bed, checking from time to time whether she had perhaps called him back or written anything. Although he had tried to reach her at least ten times she did not answer and he was afraid to write her a message.

What if she went to the police with this?

Maybe that's what he deserved, he thought after a while with regret, staring blankly at the bright screen of his phone, wondering if he should try again despite the late hour.

As much as he tried to find some logical justification for what he had done, he couldn't explain what had really driven him.

Admittedly, at first he was guided only by anger and spite, but then these emotions disappeared, replaced by a hot, dark desire that filled his loins, completely overshadowing his cool judgement.

Something about her brightness, her lightness, her joy, made him long to lean over her like the dark sky, like night over the stars, and cover her with his blackness, his emptiness, consuming and devouring her.

He had never experienced such a disturbing and overpowering sensation before and was horrified that he was prone to such thoughts and such actions.

He had completely lost his mind because of her.

She had asked him to let her go, so why didn't he do so?

Alys had always been eager for his aggressive, violent games, he knew that, and he felt no remorse about what he was doing to her or where, but this little girl was terrified, trembling all over with fear, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he needed to feel her.

Perhaps subconsciously her cheerfulness, her attitude attracted him.

Maybe after years of sadness and mourning he wanted to feel at last something more than grief.

He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing heavily at that thought, feeling a squeeze in his throat and heart.

He only fell into a restless sleep in the morning with his phone lying next to his face, and was awakened two hours later by his alarm clock anyway, which he switched off with displeasure, tired, sad and embarrassed by what he had done.

He couldn't look Daeron in the face as they ate breakfast together. His little brother looked up at him from over his bowl of his favourite cereal with milk – he knew he was about to start asking questions about her.

"When will Esmeralda come here to sew our costumes?" He asked finally, stirring the milk with his spoon, looking at the chocolate balls that floated on its surface.

He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to explain to him how much he had fucked up.

What he had done to her.

"I don't know if she'll even show up here again." He replied truthfully, Daeron gave him a quick, horrified look.

"She promised me. She promised me we'd sew them together and go to the ball." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears again.

He decided he wouldn't be so cruel as to let him believe it was her fault, though part of his mind opted for that.

"I know, but I hurt her and I'm afraid she won't forgive me." He said lowly, swallowing hard, fiddling with his coffee cup, not daring to look at him, his heart pounding like mad.

"What do you mean? Did you hit her?" He asked in disbelief, and he clenched his eyes, realising that in his childish mind the greatest harm a man could do to a woman was that he could slap her.

He was silent for a while, not sure how or if I should explain it to him, whether it would be too much.

"In a way. And I did something else, much worse. Against her pleas. I could go to jail for that." He muttered, covering his face with his hand, feeling that even though he hadn't eaten anything he felt sick to his stomach.

"Why did you do that? She's so kind. What did she do to you? Did you get angry with her because of me?" He mumbled through his tears. He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that, like any child, he was trying to justify the adult in his head, deciding that after all he was smarter and more experienced than him, so his behaviour must have been because he, his little brother, had done something wrong.

"No. No, it didn't and doesn't have anything to do with you. This is our adult business, but she has the right to be very angry with me and not speak to me. However, I'm completely sure she doesn't blame you." He replied quickly, biting his lower lip.

It wasn't until he spoke it aloud that it occurred to him how pathetic, inappropriate and cruel what he had done was, how afraid she must have been of him.

Was she telling herself she liked it so she could somehow survive it? She decided to go along with it so she wouldn't suffer?

"Do you think I can call her?" He asked in a quivering voice, and he looked at him with his heart pounding fast, recognising in the back of his mind that it was an excellent thought, that she might want to at least talk to him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll give you her number, but call her from your phone. She's not answering from me."

He stared feeling the cold sweat on his back at his brother's reflection in the mirror driving towards the centre, seeing as he pressed the numbers written on the piece of paper on the keypad of his phone and lifted it to his ear – he heard the quiet beep of a call waiting.

He shuddered as someone answered, trying to focus on the road, complete panic in his mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Hello? Hi, it's Daeron. Can you talk? No, he can't hear what you're saying, we're just driving to the centre." He muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling a constriction in his chest from which he found it hard to breathe, trying to erase from his mind the image of him slamming into her again and again with the brutal, sharp thrusts of his hips.

"He told me that he had done you wrong and that he had hurt you very badly. I'm very sorry he did that. I just wanted to ask when we're going to sew our costumes." He mumbled out quickly. He felt his eyebrows arch in shame and covered his mouth with his free hand, resting his elbow against his car door, looking ahead in disbelief.

How could he do this to her?

For a moment Daeron listened to what she was saying on the phone with concentration and he was dying inside, afraid that she would explain to him with details of what he had done to her. After a moment he nodded as if he understood what she meant, he saw his face lighten a little.

"Okay. Okay, I'll ask my brother if he agrees to it. Bye bye." He said softly and hung up, sighing heavily.

"And?" He asked looking at him in the mirror, stopping in the car park, feeling like he was about to go crazy. His brother looked down at his fingers.

"Esmeralda said that after your argument she can no longer come to our house, but that I can come to her at the University. She said that the building is modern and wheelchair accessible, there are special toilets, lifts and everything needed. We could do my homework in her room in the dormitory and then walk around the campus, sewing and painting." He said uncertainly, glancing at him pleadingly. He swallowed loudly, feeling disappointed and at the same time understanding of her decision and grunted softly, turning off the engine.

"Would you like that?" He asked him calmly, and his brother nodded quickly.

"Then so be it."

Despite his requests, Daeron refused to tell him which of the boys had called him Quasimodo.

He said that it didn't matter now.

He thought with regret that his younger brother had more maturity and calmness in himself than he did.

Sitting at work he was all nerves, he had not received any notification that anyone had filed a police report on him, so for some reason, perhaps out of fear, she had not done so.

He felt both relieved and ashamed at the same time, unable to look at himself, thinking that he was not only disgusting on the outside but also on the inside.

When Alys suggested that they go to the toilet for a while he simply agreed, feeling that he needed to lash out, to expel the grief, shame and desperation that seemed to fill his whole body.

He turned her body violently with her back to him, thinking with fatigue that he didn't want to look at her face. As he unzipped his trousers he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him, on her panties lowered halfway down her thighs, her entrance sticky with arousal. He closed his eyes and grasped his cock firmly in his hand, giving it a few aggressive, hard strokes.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her sweet moans, about how wonderful she smelled, about how tight she was, about her body convulsing in his embrace.

He got instantly hard, wasted no time and surprised his lover, who moaned with delight at feeling how direct and exceptionally violent he was this day, his thrusts full of desperation and aggression, his groans low and throaty.

Something was wrong – her insides were different, her buttocks were different, her scent was different, too intense, her moans too deep, too sensual, not as innocent and surprised as hers.

He pressed his lips together feeling he couldn't focus or get as much pleasure out of it as he would have liked.

"− shut the fuck up −" He growled speeding up but it was to no avail – when he opened his eyes he saw a completely different woman in front of him. He slowed down, swallowing loudly, feeling that nothing would come of it.

"− fucking bastard − ah, don't stop − what happened? − did I do something wrong? −" She asked as he slid out of her and fastened his zipper in a quick motion, furious, disappointed, humiliated, distraught that he wanted her, this little girl, her moans, her scent, her touch, her gaze, her tight, weeping cunt, being able to spend whole nights with his face sunk between her thighs, begging her forgiveness, muttering between the flicks of his tongue that he would make it all up to her.

"− no − I'm sorry, it's my fault −" He said lowly, not wanting to lash out at her. She grunted quietly, surprised, putting her lacy underwear and trousers back on over her hips, fastening them with a quick, nimble movement.

"− you seem stressed − something wrong? − do you want to talk? −" She asked softly, and he felt a kind of gratitude that she hadn't laughed at him or judged him, that she had acted as if nothing had happened.

He decided, however, that he didn't want to share his thoughts with her.

"− no − forgive me − have a nice day −" He said calmly, opening the cubicle door and left the restroom, moving down the corridor in front of him, clenching his eyelids, brushing his short, slicked-back hair with a quick movement.

What had happened between them, what he had done to her had left a mark on more than just her.

He felt as if he had woken up from a lethargy after five years, everything around him was sharper and brighter, painfully clear.

The next morning, according to the arrangements made between her and Daeron, he was to turn up in the car park outside the University from where she was to pick up his brother.

He dreaded this meeting, dreaded what he would see in her face, disgust, regret and bitterness, all the way to the place he felt like stopping and throwing up.

He felt a shudder and a loud pounding of his heart when they arrived at the agreed spot and he noticed her, standing between the cars dressed in a fitted strapless dress with daisies on it, her beautiful hair the scent of which he could still smell in his nostrils loose, trainers on her feet.

He stopped, swallowing hard, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, glancing at her – she stood at a safe distance from them and looked away, playing with the fingers of her hands, thoughtful and sad.

What he saw hurt him even more than if she had been staring at him with hatred.

He walked around the car and took out Daeron's wheelchair to which he helped him move from the back seat – his little brother beamed at the sight of her and began to move the wheels himself heading towards her. He saw with regret that she smiled warmly when she saw him, genuine joy on her face.

"Hi. High five!" She said to him cockily and their hands hit each other in the air, even though he was standing a few steps away she didn't give him a single glance.

"So, shall we go?" She asked encouragingly, and Daeron nodded.

He wanted to ask if she was sure he would be safe here, if she would remember to take him to lunch, if she would watch out for him, but he didn't dare, shame took his speech away.

He decided it would be better if he kept quiet and led them away with his gaze, then got into his car and drove to work.

He spent all day thinking about her, sitting over the case files recalling again and again her appearance, her pleasant figure, her warm face that beamed all over at the sight of his younger brother.

Why did she have to be like this?

Why did she have to be what he craved, the personification of his deepest, darkest needs, a ripe peach that someone had placed in front of him on a platter while he was starving?

When he arrived after work to pick up Daeron they both stood in the distance, said their goodbyes, and she turned away without even bestowing a single glance on him. He got out of the car, intent on helping his brother into the back seat.

"And how was it?" He asked lowly, feeling sadness and emptiness, anxiety and a strange tightening in his stomach.

"Great! We studied together in her room and then she showed me around the whole campus. We even looked in the classroom where the students were painting portraits and she told me a bit about how it was done. Everyone was very friendly." He said quickly, clearly excited and pleased. He swallowed hard, sighing softly as he folded his wheelchair and threw it back into the boot.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked calmly, returning to the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and turning on the engine.

"Yes, we had lunch in the university canteen. I could choose whatever I wanted." He said with satisfaction, a wide smile on his face.

He felt like asking him if she had mentioned anything about him, if she had anything to convey to him, but realised that there was nothing she might want to tell him.

She was doing this to keep her word to Daeron.

For a few weeks it seemed to him that he had locked himself in some kind of circle, looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, days during which he would see her, albeit only from a distance, her figure bright and graceful.

He wondered with pain if she still had the bruises on her neck that his lips had left and swallowed loudly, feeling ashamed that his manhood reacted to that thought with a strong throbbing in his trousers.

He had suspected it before, but now he was absolutely sure.

He was fucking mad.

On the day the carnival ball was to be held, he was supposed to drive Daeron to the centre and pick him up after a few hours, but he decided that it wouldn't be worth going home for such a short time and he would just wait for them somewhere off to the side without bothering them.

As he pulled up in front of the building he swallowed heavily, seeing her from a distance, already dressed in her Esmeralda costume, her dark, loose hair tied with a violet scarf to form a headband, bells tied to her purple skirt, simple black ballerinas on her feet, round gold earrings in her ears, clanking bracelets on her wrists.

However, what drew his attention most was her white, buff long-sleeved shirt, tucked into the the sea-colored corset under her breasts that wonderfully emphasized her waist, it's sleeves lowered so that her shoulders were bare, it was slit down in the middle, showing the bare skin of her chest.

He swallowed loudly, looking away, feeling with horror that the very sight of it made him hard.

He grunted, helping Daeron out of the car and moved behind him, guessing that she wasn't going to help his brother dress after all, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"You really look like Esmeralda! So beautiful!" Exclaimed his younger brother, and she turned gracefully raising her hands with a clink of her bells and bracelets, showing off her costume in all its glory.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Where's my costume?!" He asked excitedly, and she picked up the large paper bag that stood next to her feet and smiled.

"Here. Let's go." She said lightly without looking at him, Daeron immediately pushed the wheels of his wheelchair and headed after her.

He moved behind them, feeling like an intruder, looking everywhere but at her, trying not to think about the sight of her partially exposed back.

She explained to him quickly what needed to be put on first and how – he was impressed that what she had made really did look like golden armour, but when he took out the individual pieces they turned out to be surprisingly light.

He locked himself and Daeron in one of the toilet cubicles, helping him to change, his brother looking extremely pleased.

"Are you two reconciled?" He asked, clearly thinking that since she was speaking to him again she had forgiven him. He swallowed loudly, not knowing how to explain to him that what he had done could not simply be taken back.

"I don't think so. But don't think about it. Hm?" He asked softly and he lowered his gaze, disappointed.

The sight of himself in the armour gave him confidence – it appeared that the whole thing had been designed so that he could flex his arms, elbows and wrists, the parts fitted together.

He thought with a pained grin that she had really made an effort.

"You look great. What a real knight you are. Come, it's time for you to dance a little with your beautiful Esmeralda." He said calmly, opening the door for him. He wheeled out into the corridor with a smile, his Esmeralda catching her cheeks with a wide smile of delight.

"My knight. Promise to protect me from the evil thugs!" She called out theatrically and glared at him – he swallowed loudly, turning his face away in shame, his younger brother assuring her that he would not let anyone hurt her.

Too late, he thought.

For some reason, he felt tears under his eyelids, his throat squeezed so tight he had trouble breathing.

He watched as they moved ahead into a large gymnasium where the lights were slightly dim, a disco ball was spinning on the ceiling, Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper was playing in the background, children and their caretakers spinning around, dressed as various characters and creatures.

Although many of the costumes looked quite impressive, he couldn't take his eyes off her – as she danced she sang the lyrics of the song with theatrical devotion as if she knew them by heart, her hair, bracelets and earrings glistened in the light of the multi-coloured lights, the sweat on the bare skin of her exposed arms glittered like little crystals.

He looked at her leaning with his back against the wall with his hands folded in front of him, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, covering up what was happening in his trousers.

He looked around the room and noticed a group of boys looking at her and Daeron. He frowned, wondering if they were the ones calling his brother Quasimodo.

He felt some kind of satisfaction at the thought that they were watching his brother dance with a pretty girl.

He really deserved her.

Such a good kid.

He left after a while, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket – even though he hadn't smoked in months and was trying to quit, he felt that what was happening was too much for him.

His hands trembled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter, taking a loud drag, closing his eyes, clenching his fingers on the base of his nose.

There was only chaos in his head.

"We need to talk." He heard her soft, trembling voice and turned around immediately, taking a few steps away, for some reason terrified by her sudden proximity.

He stared at her with his lips slightly parted, his body froze still, his heart pounding like mad, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

God, she was pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I can no longer take care of Daeron. I just wanted to keep my promise and go to the ball with him. I think he's had enough disappointments in his life and I didn't want to provide him with any more." She said shivering all over, looking everywhere but at him – he felt like he was about to vomit from terror and grief.

What?

"But…if I'm the problem, we can arrange it so that I bring him in a while early and you pick him up from under the main entrance. I'll pay you more." He muttered, completely surprised by her words, not knowing what to say, not wanting to imagine how his little brother would react.

She shook her head quickly at his words, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists in a nervous gesture.

"I can't. He reminds me of you. You two are similar in appearance." She mumbled and burst out crying, drawing in air loudly, covering her face with her hand in an attempt to calm herself. He looked at her in disbelief, feeling his voice get stuck in his throat.

"I haven't told anyone about what you did to me, because in his eyes you are his authority. I don't want to put him through unnecessary suffering, but I expect you to come up with something and find some convincing explanation as to why I can't continue to take care of him, Mr Prosecutor." She muttered regretfully wiping her cheeks swollen from tears, struggling to catch her breath, her plump lips parted, her eyebrows arched in despair.

He didn't know when he fell to his knees in front of her, when he clasped his hands around her waist, dropping his cigarette to the ground – he pressed his face to her womb, breathing loudly, feeling like he was going through some kind of panic, his lungs compressed, tears streaming down his face one after another, everything around him seemed to spin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − please, please, forgive me −" He mumbled hysterically what he had wanted to say to her for weeks – he heard her gasp loudly in shock, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness, felt her place them on his shoulders trying to gently push him away, her stomach trembled under his face in sobs.

"− l-let me go − please, get up −" She whimpered pleadingly, but he shook his head – he thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't let her go.

"− I need you − even if for the rest of my life I will only look at you from afar −" He exhaled helplessly, sinking his nose into the material of her soft skirt, feeling her wonderful scent fill his lungs again, the warmth of her body that enveloped his face.

He didn't care that the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, didn't care that perhaps they knew who he was.

"− I can't − I've tried − I've forgiven you, but I can't forget − you robbed me of my dignity −" She said in a raspy, broken voice – he felt himself whooping with his own tears, clasping his fingers at her back, his helpless mumbling ripped from his throat as if without the participation of his free will.

"− do what you want with me − fucking destroy me −"

"Aemond? What's going on?" He heard his brother's frightened voice and immediately rose from his knees, letting her go, both of them wiping their faces quickly, her cheeks pale and at the same time red from tears.

"We needed to talk. I'll be right back." She said quickly, forcing herself to smile – Daeron could sense the tension between them though, his lips tightened, his gaze wandering from him to her.

"Have you…reconciled yet? Has my brother apologised to you?" He asked uncertainly and she nodded and laughed lightly, something in her response made him clench his eyelids and swallow loudly – he covered his face with his hand, feeling that for some reason he couldn't stop crying.

You robbed me of my dignity.

"− y-yes − yes, we've already explained everything to each other, we simply got a little emotional − come on, let's go back inside −" She said softly and stroked his head – he smiled at her and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" He asked, but he shook his head, choking out that he would wait for them in the car.

He locked himself inside in the driver's seat and put his forehead on the steering wheel, feeling an overpowering emptiness and this awful, terrifying chill, as if someone had gouged out his insides with a spoon like the flesh of a fruit, leaving only a mere shell.

He thought that he had died five years ago, on the day of that accident.

He only existed so that Daeron could live on.

He shuddered, as if awakened from a deep, restless slumber, hearing a knock on the window on his side – he glanced there and saw Daeron waving at him and his Esmeralda, looking at him uncertainly, terrified of his condition, dark night all around them.

He got out of the car, massaging his forehead, feeling a terrible headache, not being sure for a moment where he actually was or what time it was – in an automatic reflex he opened the back door and helped Daeron get in, he could smell her scent beside him, her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you sure you should drive?" She asked hesitantly, and he swallowed loudly, thinking that since the day of that accident he had never gotten into a car that someone else was driving.

"Yes. Shall I drive you back?" He asked lowly, not looking at her, folding Daeron's small wheelchair.

"No need, thank you, I'll get an Uber." She muttered, his younger brother furrowed his brow, looking at her worriedly.

"We'll drive you back. It's late, you shouldn't be going home alone." He insisted.

She sighed quietly and nodded, walking around the car, sitting down next to Daeron in the back seat.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine, involuntarily glancing at her in the mirror – their gazes met, her eyes sad and tired, full of a regret she had every right to feel.

He drove ahead, trying to wake up and focus on the road, looking at the lights of the cars passing him and thought that maybe if he had killed them it would have been better for all of them.

He grunted loudly, tilting his head back, leaning against the backrest, recognising that he had completely lost his mind, that he was sinking into depression and hysteria, that he had reached the very bottom.

It seemed to him that she sensed that something was happening to him – he was catching her on the fact that she was glancing at him uncertainly, answering something to Daeron who was chatting her up, talking about his friends' costumes. She was just nodding, pretending to listen to him, her hands playing with the material of her skirt in a nervous gesture.

God, how he longed for her to drive with him to their house, to go with him to his bedroom, so that he could kneel before her and whisper how sorry he was, how he wished he could make it all right, to slide with his hands the material of her shirt and her skirt, so that his lips could kiss her whole beautiful, warm body with devotion and adoration, her feet, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her face, her….

"WATCH OUT!" He heard her scream of terror and pressed the brake suddenly, at the last moment stopping in front of a crossroads where he should have given way to those driving on his right and left – a man almost rammed into them and started honking at them, gesticulating aggressively, opening his window and shouting, asking what the fuck he was doing.

He looked quickly in the mirror, feeling as if he was deaf, his brother was crying loudly, snuggled into her, shaking with fear, her eyes wide, staring at him in horror.

"… are you all right?" He asked dully, feeling like his head was spinning – he saw her nod quickly, and then suddenly he went dark in front of his eyes, his head dropped limply and hit something hard.

He was awakened by someone's conversation. He felt someone touching him, something pleasantly warm enveloped him – his body was lying on something soft and comfortable, he thought he was lying on the sofa in his house.

"− overwork, dehydration, stress, trauma − anything could have caused this, ma'am − when can his sister come? −" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"− his younger brother called her, but she only managed to buy a plane ticket for tomorrow −" He heard her soft, warm voice – he shuddered and opened his eyes with difficulty, wanting to see her, to make sure nothing had happened to her.

He spotted her blurred silhouette in the warm light of the night lamp – she was sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, still dressed in her Esmeralda costume.

"− can you stay here until she arrives? − are you a friend of the family? −" Asked the man who was apparently a paramedic, packing his suitcase and pulling off his latex gloves. She nodded.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm his little brother's carer −" She replied calmly, the man and she both glanced at him when they noticed he was awake.

"− how are you feeling, sir? − you had a panic attack and fainted − I have given you intravenous sedatives and strengthening medications, you should feel better soon −" The man with the black beard, surely a few years older than him, said to him.

He grunted quietly as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows, feeling everything around him swirl and lay back, giving up.

"− fuck − I'm dizzy −" He muttered, his stomach sore and clenched.

She rose from her seat as the doctors left Daeron's room, sighing heavily in relief when the woman explained that he had only been scared.

"Aemond!" He shouted when he saw that he was awake, riding up to him in his wheelchair, wiping his face red from tears.

"− I thought − I thought you had died − you weren't moving − w-we couldn't wake you up −" He mumbled, and he hugged his head to his chest, closing his eyes, stroking his soft hair with his large hand.

"− I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − I've been working too much lately and I fainted −" He lied, swallowing loudly, his brother nodding his head in understanding, cuddling into him like a teddy bear. He kissed his temple, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

He thought he needed to pull himself together.

"− Esmeralda said she would stay with us until Helaena arrives − now it's up to us to take care of you − lie here and don't worry about a thing −" He said in a voice hoarse from crying and patted his head – he felt a tightness in his throat at his words, his eyebrows arched in emotion, he smiled involuntarily, feeling his lower lip tremble.

"− then I'm in good hands −"

He watched wordlessly as the doctors and medics left their house, Daeron showing his Esmeralda where she could find clothes to change into – she appeared a few minutes later in his long black hoodie reaching halfway down her thighs, her legs wonderfully bare.

She bustled around the kitchen with Daeron, trying to make dinner – he couldn't get out of his awe at what a harmonious duo they were, his brother talking to her without shame or embarrassment.

If he had been wiser, if he had given her a chance then instead of humiliating her, maybe now they would be preparing dinner together.

He rose to sit down when she brought him tea and sandwiches, thanking her meekly. He sighed heavily feeling he wouldn't swallow anything and although the medications were starting to work, he felt like his head was going to burst.

She only returned to the living room after she had helped Daeron change into his pyjamas and put him to bed. She approached him hesitantly and sat down next to him on the couch, not looking at him but at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly, covering her knees with the material of his sweatshirt.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment.

"Exactly as I should after what I did." He replied finally, not knowing how else he was supposed to call what he was feeling.

She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in pain, regret and sadness in her gaze, but at the same time also some kind of concern.

He thought in disbelief that his fate mattered to her despite what he had done to her.

She lowered her gaze to her knees, fiddling with the material that covered her thighs in a nervous gesture.

"He needs you composed. Emotionally stable." She said sadly, her lips trembling.

He stared at her face unable to take his eyes off her, thinking only of how much he wanted to touch her, dreaming of her hugging him and locking him in her arms.

"I know." He said dryly, understanding exactly what she meant.

He couldn't be unpredictable, distracted while driving in the car, at work and on a daily basis.

Could not be distracted by her.

"Why did you do it? Then when I wanted to leave?" She finally asked in a voice quivering with grief, and looked at him, the depth of disappointment, sadness and emptiness in her bright eyes.

He licked his lower lip dry with stress and swallowed hard, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he stared straight into her face.

"Because I wanted to feel you. You were so sweet and soft. You were melting in my hands. I couldn't stop." He muttered at last, feeling with shame how pathetic that explanation was, thinking he was just a fucking pervert.

He drew in a loud breath as she slid the blanket off him and sat on top of him, pressing her buttocks against what was under his trousers – he wanted to grab her hips, feeling a rush of adrenaline from disbelief, but she grabbed his wrists.

"No. Don't touch me. If I feel your hands on my body I'll start screaming. I will tell Daeron everything you did to me and that you tried to do it a second time." She said with a seriousness from which his breath caught in his throat; he immediately placed his hands as before on either side of his body, watching in disbelief as her tiny fingers undid his button and zipper, his cock immediately swelled and began to pulsate, a loud shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

God, was she really going to do this?

As if in response to his thoughts, she spread the material of his trousers to the side and slid his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection, twitching with lust, the head of it pink and glistening. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, swallowing loudly when he felt her grab it's base with a gentle flick of her hand and direct its thick tip between her warm thighs.

She had no underwear underneath.

She lowered herself onto him a tiny bit, barely sinking the fat head of his cock inside her, teasing him with the lewd click of her moisture – the sight of him stretching her slit and how wet she was turned him on so much that a low, helpless groan escaped his throat.

"− be quiet or I'll stop − do you want me to stop? − you didn't give me that choice, but I'm not that cruel −" She said with regret as he shook his head quickly, feeling how desperate he was to feel her again.

"− please −" He heard his own pathetic voice, not believing he was allowing it, but he no longer cared what she would do to him, he wanted to fuck her in any way she would let him.

He felt some relief at the thought of being humiliated, he wanted her to do to him what he did to her even though he knew she didn't have his awful nature.

"− what are you asking me to do? −" She whispered softly, almost tenderly, as if her superiority over him was giving her back what he had taken from her, her power over her own body, over what was happening to her.

"− use me −" He breathed out in a voice hoarse with emotion, saw that something had changed in her gaze, her lips parted in a shuddering breath.

He clasped his hands on the fabric of the couch and leaned his head back, gasping out loud as he felt her let him all the way inside her, his hard, fat cock throbbed aggressively with desire squeezed wonderfully by her hot, tight walls – he knew he was embarrassingly close to fulfilment and that she felt it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over him, but not moving, waiting for his manhood to stop twitching inside her – her pretty, flushed face surrounded by her dark, shiny curls, her bright eyes fixed on him, her plump, swollen lips parted in a quickened breath.

"− use you? − mr. prosecutor wants to make me feel good? −" She asked in a whisper, her voice trembling with fear and arousal, as if she herself was shocked by what she was doing and by the fact that he was listening to her, by the way he was responding to her, by how much he desired her.

"− yes −" He mumbled out and closed his eyes with a low moan, feeling that with flick of her hips she slowly slid his cock out of her only to push it back in with a loud click of her wetness.

"− why? −" She exhaled, moving on top of him painfully slowly, her tight fleshy muscles giving him a wonderful squeeze each time she forced him back between her plushy folds, they both began to breathe louder and louder. He bent his legs at the knees, involuntarily tentatively responding to her thrusts with deep stabs of his hips.

"− God, don't you see that I crave you? −" He groaned low, with the last of his strong will restraining himself from tightening his hands on her buttocks and forcing her to move faster.

There was something wonderful about this slow agony, in the way she teased him, rubbing herself at the spot from which she felt the greatest pleasure, a sweet moan escaped her lips at his words.

"− are you always like this when you see me? − like you are now between my thighs? −" She mumbled in embarrassment, speeding up, their naked bodies began to slam against each other with splats of her moisture – he dared to buck into her harder, they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with their mouths wide open, her lips puffy with desire.

"− of course − I jerk off every day thinking about you − fuck −" He muttered with difficulty, feeling the tickle and heat in his lower abdomen, his cock swelling with desire so much that he felt like it was about to explode if he didn't come inside her, their naked bodies slamming against each other.

He delighted in the sight of her throwing her head back at his words, her hot core pulsed hard around him, sucking him inside, her fingers clenched on the material of his sweatshirt, her buttocks slapping loudly against his thighs, soaking him all over.

"− touch me − touch me −" She cried out and he caught her quickly, one of his hands weaved into her hair and pressed her face against his, their lips joined in an aggressive, thirsty, sticky kiss, the fingers of his other hand clenched on the soft, firm skin of her ass.

They moaned loudly into each other's mouths as he began to pound into her like mad, almost not sliding out of her anymore – he embraced her and hugged her body to his, gripping her around the waist, her hands stroking his cheeks, his neck, his scar, his cock thrusting into her weeping folds twitching and throbbing like crazy.

"− fuck − fuck, baby, m gonna cum −" He babbled between the flicks of their lips, tongues and teeth. She gasped and came at his words with a loud mewl of surprise – he felt her moisture run down her thighs onto his lower abdomen, her muscles began to clench on him greedily, squeezing him wonderfully. He threw his head back and moaned in relief when he felt his warm seed spurt out inside her.

"− oh God − oh my fucking God −" He mumbled, experiencing such an intense orgasm for the first time in his life – for a moment he went dark before his eyes, he could see or hear nothing, there was only the wonderful hot pleasure spilling over his whole body, his hands clenched on her hot skin.

He hugged her close, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck, covering their bodies with his blanket, not wanting Daeron to accidentally find them in this position, while having no intention of changing it.

He felt wonderful.

He stroked her soft hair placing tender, wet kisses on her temple, his other hand trailing reassuringly down her back, feeling that she was trembling all over with emotion, unsure as he was of what had really happened between them.

"− sleep here, little one − I won't touch you against your will − I promise −" He whispered, but her silence answered him – she breathed loudly along with him, lying still, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

"− I know −" She replied quietly after a moment, rising on her shoulders, sliding him out of her with a soft motion of her hips, his hands clasped helplessly on her thighs.

"− please, don't go −" He muttered, looking at her in horror, his heart pounding like mad.

Please, let me go.

"− I'm sorry −"

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

She rose from the couch, trembling all over, covering her thighs with his sweatshirt, his semen mingled with her moisture ran down her naked skin.

"− I'll sleep in the free room next to Daeron's bedroom − I'll lock myself in − don't come to me and don't ever touch me again − we're even −" She said in a calm, quivering voice full of sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He wanted to touch her fingers but she turned and left the living room, hiding her face in her hand as if she was crying again, disappearing down the corridor.

He lay looking dully at the spot where she had stood just a moment before, feeling a squeeze in his throat – with trembling hands he slipped his boxers back on and zipped up his trousers, feeling tears of disappointment running down the sides of his face onto the pillow under his head.

We're even.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

[whatthefishh]

Sativa

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Part of the Oxford Comma series

Warnings: drug use (weed), studying excessively, oral (f receiving), mentions of p in v sex, baby cow eyes.

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: this took me way longer than I intended to write, it’s been a really difficult time in my mind for me and to those who are waiting for requests / chapters of other fics ily for being patient with me ❤️ huge thanks to my lovely mutuals who helped me, especially @xbellaxcarolinax for reading it over several times 🌹 love you

The room was slowly filling with the distinct smell of marijuana, little puffs of air spilling from Rydal’s lips as he took yet another drag of his joint before he tried to proposition you again.

“Wanna take a break now? It’s not like you can absorb the information by just staring at the textbook. Doesn’t work that way.”

You only sigh in response.

“A little smoke might make all those theories seem a little less… theoretical, yknow?” He laughs at the end of his quip like he finds himself extremely amusing.

“Oh, you think me finally giving in to your bad influence will help me pass this exam? You really think that’s the best way to study right now? Really?”

“Not a bad influence, princess, just wanna help you relax,” Rydal says while pushing your hair over your shoulder from where he was lying on his side next to you.

Smacking his hand away, you huff in annoyance. This wasn’t the first time he’s offered it to you, and it was never pressuring. He offered because he offered everything to you, and this was just another one of those things. You didn’t mind the smell. It was just irritating when you were trying to study and were very clearly stressed.

Rydal had learned these concepts from childhood, the topics of discussion in class were the same ones he’d have with his family at dinner, with his father over drinks at the early age of 14 back when he was obsessed with being just like him. The books on the syllabus were his summer readings as a child, the younger version of him desperate to impress with big words and bigger ideas, learning the hows and why’s of socialism when all his peers were riding their bicycles around the neighborhood. He didn’t have to focus as much as you did at this moment. And right now? Your brain was at its limit, barely digesting the words on the pages in front of you.

You lowered the textbook into your lap, turning to look down at him. His head was on the pillow next to you, eyes boring into yours calmly.

You felt your resolve slipping.

“None of this makes sense anymore.”

“What doesn’t?” He asked quietly, changing his teasing tone to match your somber one.

“It’s like, it’s like I’m reading the same thing over and over but I know—“

“You already know everything, you’re overthinking—“

“No, that’s what you think, but the last time I talked to your dad and he full-on tested me—“

“—wasn’t testing you, it came up organically so that doesn’t count—“

“Yes! Yes, he was! Who casually asks someone what their opinion on direct versus indirect democracies is over lunch? Like, what the fuck was I supposed to say?” Your voice is bordering on shrill, the memory of Lawrence’s unimpressed gaze and your face heating up in embarrassment as you struggled for words flashing through your mind.

“I’m sure he’d love hearing your rehearsed opinion next time. For now, though, I’d love to hear your opinion on something else.”

“Does it have to do with our actual reading material or does it have something to do with getting lost in a cloud of smoke with you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I just wanna make you feel better, baby, is that so wrong?” Rydal is looking up at you, unwavering, moving to finger the edge of the sweater you had on before dipping his hand underneath to rest on your back.

Looking at him with those eyes, the intense deep stare he held; his pink lips and their slight upturn, gentle and playful all at once —you made up your mind.

Propping your hand to take the joint from him, he doesn’t give it but instead, he sits up to guide it to your lips himself, his other hand clutching your waist. Rydal rests the tip of it against your lips, his eyes watching the way you wrap them around it delicately and you swear you could see his pupils dilate and hear his breathing slow down.

“Take it nice and slow, deep breath,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your mouth as you inhale, “hold it, that’s it. Good girl. Now slowly exhale.”

You did as you were told, feeling the smoke fill up your lungs and burn slightly as you held it, and then exhaled straight into Rydal’s face.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t realize how close—“

Before you could finish speaking, he took a deep drag of the joint and hungrily pressed his lips against yours, inadvertently blowing the smoke into your mouth while doing so. You could feel his warm breath mixing with yours, your hearts beating in unison as his lips worked yours. The almost sweet and earthy taste of the weed seeps into your lungs as his tongue claims your mouth. Everything was overwhelming and thrilling and arousing and beautiful and he felt so good right then that you wanted to claw your way into his lap and stay there, burrow into his chest until you were warm and safe.

Rydal would keep you safe, with him. He would.

Pulling apart for air, you don’t remember who moved first but he was tossing your textbook on the floor while you were peeling your sweater off, the room becoming instantly warmer, the need to be closer to him making you antsy. Needy.

The effects of the smoke kicked in sometime between kissing Rydal stupid and him taking off your bottoms, his eyes stripping you faster than his hands could. You were clutching his shoulders, desperate to keep him close especially once the weight settled over you and your limbs felt heavier.

He had to stay close, you couldn’t let him leave you at this moment. Your arousal mixed with the slight paranoia that came with the high resulted in a very strong desire to stay as close as you could to Rydal, needing him more than you could put into words. You hoped he understood from how tight you were holding him, from how much you were whining when he dragged a finger down your soaked panties.

You flopped back against his pillows and despite being naked, you didn’t feel cold, your eyes and nipples pointed to the ceiling as he kissed his way down your tummy. He already laved your breasts with his mouth, the traces of saliva he left behind from wrapping his mouth around your peaks now making them pebble in the evening air. Rydal’s hands were everywhere, his tongue dipping out every few seconds to taste your skin. The effects of the high made you hypersensitive to the maelstrom of sensations, his touches feeling ten times more powerful and intimate than usual.

You didn’t realize it, but you were making all the pretty and perfect noises for him, breathy moans louder than usual while he explored your soft skin, harshly panting and voice wavering on little moans. You were driving him up the wall, his hips softly grinding into his blanket for some relief while he mouthed over the top of your underwear.

Rydal’s mouth wrapped around your clothed clit, letting his drool soak the material until he could suck it and hear your shocked squeal of pleasure. You buried your hands in his soft hair, strands slipping through like gossamer.

He lifted his mouth an inch just to hook a finger around the gusset and plant an open mouth kiss on the very core of you. He was sweet like that.

Apparently, your panties were too much of an obstruction for him as they were ripped from your legs a moment later so that he could spread you open with his fingers. Licking a stripe up your dripping cunt, Rydal dived in, eyes closed, his nose gently nudging your clit while he tongued at your opening. He continued to tongue fuck you, slowly moving in and out of your little hole leaving you gasping and moaning lowly, tugging on his hair. He continued this little routine; licking up your peeled-back core, tonguing inside your cunt, and then to rile you up that much more, he would let his teeth graze your clit.

Rydal’s fingers were stuck gripping your thighs, leaving indents from how tight he had to hold you down just so you’d stop squirming. You were so restless from him edging you, almost cumming several times but he’d pull back, blowing cool air on your core just to take you all the way again. Occasionally, he would moan into you, swirling his tongue around your clit just to suckle on it sweetly as if it were honey he was drinking on. You were whining pathetically as you buck your hips up into his mouth, the synthetic dose of dopamine only serving to heighten your pleasure. Your limbs felt heavy, you could’ve been 10 feet underground, plunged deep within the earth itself, body like lead, and the only thing you could focus on was the way Rydal’s mouth lapped at you, slurping obscenely as he made you choke on a moan.

This time around, he didn’t let up, his tongue working double time as he stared up at you, his hands pushing your thighs further apart to give him the space to fuck you with his tongue with purpose. He was intent on making you cum, fucking finally. You tried to ask, tried to form the words to beg him – maybe you did, maybe you were begging him more than you usually did, maybe that’s why he was finally giving in to you, you really couldn’t remember what you were saying – but it seemed he wasn’t stopping. Reaching up with one hand to entwine his fingers with yours and resting it on your tummy, he groaned, almost as if giving you the permission you were waiting for to let go, that it was okay, that he’d take care of you, catch you when you inevitably fall.

And fall you did. Hard.

Eyes shutting, head thrown back, floating and sinking simultaneously, his mattress was soaked not only with your release but with sweat, your body feeling seven different emotions at once as you finally came into his eagerly awaiting mouth. Rydal was there just as he promised, made you feel good – brilliant, intoxicated, euphoric – true to his word.

The comedown was… interesting.

Rydal was still holding your hand, thumb rubbing the back of your palm while he nuzzled your thigh, resting his head and blinking up at you while you caught your breath. He was a sight to behold, his gorgeous hair mussed from your restless hands, lips shiny and swollen from use and his eyes, so fucking deep and loving and still hungry.

The giggling started, hazy thoughts from the high making it hard to stop, taking the weight off your chest as it continued. Thinking about how you were aggressively pushing his hands away from you just moments before letting you wreck his comforter had you covering your face, releasing another peal of laughter. Rydal’s lazy half-smile while watching you only made it worse, knowing he thought you were a lightweight and would definitely tease you about it later. Kissing his way back up your body, pressing his mouth lovingly on your soft parts, he met you at his pillow, smiling down at you prettily. You sigh after the last little laugh leaves your chest, eyes sparkling up at him and suddenly feeling bashful.

“Never heard you beg so nicely before,” he says, smiling, kissing the corner of your mouth before snickering at your embarrassed groan. “‘Pleasepleaseplease, oh GOD–’”

“Ssshhhhhhutthefuckup oh my god, I did not sound like that,” you shoved your hands on his face, hastily trying to cover his mouth from speaking and imitating you again. Your cheeks burned. You didn’t sound like that, right?

“Mmmph, yeah actually, you’re right. It was much worse,” he managed, despite your fingers slipping into (his?) mouth. After gently removing them, he held them down against the bed before leaning forward to hover right above your lips, “it’s okay, baby, I liked it. Can you do it again for me?”

And then he held your gaze, like a fucking siren, knowing exactly the effect he had on you and your now achingly empty pussy, the muscles clenching around nothing as he let his breath mingle with yours. Rydal didn’t kiss you, just stared at you with his eyelids low waiting for you to beg him.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you? Gonna ask me nicely?” He was so close but kept himself away until the only thing you could focus on was syncing up the movement of your lungs. His denial only made you want him more, desperation bleeding out from you.

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? That the best you can do?”

“P-please.”

“There it is,” he mumbled, gripping his length in one hand, lining himself up to slowly push himself in, the fat tip of him stealing your breath.

Rydal never got enough of the way your sweet pussy gripped him, and made sure to pull as many soft pleas out of you as he could for the rest of the night.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ SYNOPSIS ] Your cute neighbor is completely and utterly obsessed with you. So much so that he has taken to standing outside your window and watching your every move. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.8k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, dubiously consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, obsessive behavior, masturbation, oral sex, Zeke's submissive but not a sub, y/n is dominant but not a dom, biting, spit, cigarettes (duh).

Zeke wasn’t always a “peeping tom.” He considered himself to be a decent guy: he had a good job, lived in a nice apartment, and people tended to be fond of him. But you came and fucked that all up. Something about you changed him.

Maybe it was the doe-eyed look you gave him when he introduced himself. So pure, unassuming. Sickly sweet. Maybe it was the way picked a piece of lint off of his shirt. It was such a natural movement, like you were put on this earth to preen him. You had no business being so friendly.

Even after you were long gone the kind song of your voice hung around him like a ghost. Your name wormed its way into his brain. You were an affliction, a parasite. You must have known you’d have this effect on him. It was on purpose. There was no way you would be comely for any other reason. You beckoned him, your actions filling in the absence of words. You didn’t need to explain yourself. That wasn’t needed for people like Zeke and yourself. Sometimes people just clicked, immediately bonded.

Why else would you have left your blinds wide open at night? Prancing around in your underwear and a cropped t-shirt. Not once did you glance outside but you knew he was there, he could feel it. You welcomed his presence by merely existing. This was an invitation.

He was standing just outside your window, drenched in the shadows and his sins unseen. There was still a level of shame he felt as his hand crept under his sweatpants and gripped his throbbing cock. But he couldn’t help himself. He ached for you.

If you only knew how badly Zeke wanted to crawl through your window and profess his adoration and affection for you. How he wanted to grab you by the shoulders and show you that he understood, that he felt it too. But he was a coward with his weeping cock in his hands.

His eyes lingered on your long legs as he spat on his cock, stroking the length of it. He wanted to worship them, cover them with kisses and bite marks. His breath hitched as your shirt rode up as you stretched, barely covering your breasts. He picked up the pace and held back a groan. It was hard to keep quiet. Zeke wasn’t a particularly loud man, but you inspired him. Your siren song elicited his sordid sounds.

“Oh fuck,” he uttered through gritted teeth as you bent over, revealing your adorable ass.

Zeke wanted to dig his teeth into it, savor it. He rutted against his fist, shamelessly fucking it as you mulled about your bedroom doing nothing in particular. You were putting on a display for him. He took in every inch of your body, desperately trying to imagine how your skin would feel against his. He thought about fucking your throat, your big dark eyes gazing up at him full of tears that cling to your lashes. Oh how he longed to wipe them away as his cum trickled out of the corners of your mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to finish. He moaned as a milky white cum spurted out of his engorged cock. His relief was short-lived. Embarrassment flooded him as he tucked his cock back into his pants. That night he couldn’t sleep. He just tossed and turned as you continued to haunt him.

The next morning he was startled to find you hovering outside, uncertainty overtaking your expression. His heart skipped a beat when you finally knocked on his door.

“Hey!” he said a little too enthusiastically.

“Hi. I, uh… Can I ask you something?”

Your little frown was enough to turn Zeke into a wild animal, ready to tear someone apart. He hated to see you upset even if it was likely his doing.

“Sure. What’s going on?”

“I heard really weird shit, sorry, stuff—”

“You can swear. It’s fine,” he laughed.

“I heard weird shit outside my window last night. It sounded like a wounded animal.”

His stomach dropped. You had heard him. As much as he knew you courted him, begged him to watch you, he realized how it could be discomforting to hear a man climaxing in the middle of the night.

“Wounded?” he asked, suddenly self conscious about what he sounds like when he comes.

“I don’t know, maybe not that exactly. I can’t really place, like, what it was. Just that it was weird.”

“No. I didn’t hear anything. I’m sorry.”

He went to go back inside, but you grabbed the door and held it open. His eyes widened, not expecting you to be that strong.

“Would you wanna maybe come hang out? I know that’s forward as fuck but I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

“I think I can manage that,” he quickly said.

He smiled as warmly as he could, hoping it would set you at ease.

“Cool! We can watch fucked up shit on Youtube. It’ll be fun.”

Zeke spent the rest of his day pacing around his apartment, plotting out his actions. He wanted to come off as relatable, like someone you could turn to. Everything he planned came tumbling down when you answered your door wearing a black crop top and tiny, grey running shorts. Your hair was pulled back revealing your long neck, obviously tempting him.

“You’re not cold?” he asked.

“I run hot,” you purred. “Come on in.”

You let him inside, your body brushing up against his as he came through the door. Your home was cozy if a little cluttered. You clearly hadn’t settled in all the way. Books were stacked on the floor. A pile of clothes were draped over an office chair. Most of your belongings were still housed in boxes.

“Do you mind if I smoke? I’ll open a window,” he said, nearly choking on the word window.

“That’s fine,” you replied.

He cracked the very window he had been jerking off near and pulled out a cigarette.

“I know it was you,” you hissed.

Zeke put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, only to be confronted by the wrong end.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He averted your gaze, refusing to be confronted by you.

“I know.”

“Are you sorry?” you asked, locking the door.

He had nowhere to go unless he jumped out the window.

“Yes.”

“Prove it.”

You stared him down, showing no hint of fear. It was intimidating but it was everything he ever wanted. His cock ached, begging to be touched.

“What do I need to do?” he offered.

“Get on your hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

“Really?”

“I said you sounded like a wounded animal, remember? I figured you should act like one.”

He paused, frozen in place. Any semblance of sweetness he saw in you had dissipated. Gone was a delicate flower, here before him was a blade.

“What are you afraid of? If anyone should be shitting their pants, it’s me. I just let the big bad wolf in like some woefully dumb, little girl,” you said, voice dripping with snark.

He cleared his throat and obeyed, easing himself onto his hands and knees. He was starting to like this game. It was unsuspected but he was enraptured by it. Usually surprises annoyed Zeke but this was bliss. He made his way over to you.

“Good boy,” you murmured, patting his head.

His cock twitched and happily accepted the affection. Praise always did Zeke in; he fully blamed his father for this.

“On your knees please.”

He did as he was told, gazing up at you with his grey eyes.

“You know I could let everyone know how disgusting you are. You realize that, right?” you asked, gripping a lock of his wavy, flaxen hair.

“Yes.”

“What are you gonna do to stop me?”

“N—nothing.”

You smirked. “Really? Not a fuckin’ thing? I was at least hoping you’d chase me around the apartment, maybe hold me down and teach me a lesson. But…” Your tone changed to that sickly sweetness from when you first met. “I guess I was wrong, hm?”

You stroked Zeke’s face as he struggled to hide his trembling.

“What’s wrong? I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re too cute. It’d be criminal.”

You put your hand under his chin, forcing him to look up. He felt drunk off your presence, lust radiated off you, tempting him but in an unnerving way. You pulled down your shorts, revealing you eschewed wearing underwear that night. Your glistening cunt was right in front of his face, calling out to him. He bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists, trying to fight the urge to fuck you right then and there.

“Eat it.”

He ran his tongue along your folds, savoring the juices that coated them. Your cunt was ambrosia. Maybe this was why he was put on this earth. To kneel before such a divine being, to be overpowered by someone so seemingly unassuming. This wasn’t what he had planned for, hell, he couldn’t even remember what his plan was. You overtook him.

“Such a hungry, little boy. Kinda pathetic.”

He grazed your clit with his teeth, just enough so that you knew he wasn’t some puppy. He could easily overpower you if he wanted. But his warning did little to heed you.

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

“Maybe,” he said, breath hot against your cunt.

You stroked his hair, your touch couldn’t have been more gentle. He encircled your clit with the pointed tip of his tongue. You arched your back and groaned. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him. His beard tickled your thighs.

You exhaled deeply and ran your hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face. Zeke looked up and thought he’d come right then and there. His cock throbbed in his jeans. He wanted to whip it out and start jerking off but that would mean he had to stop groping your ass.

“Fu—fuck,” you whined.

It was so different from the bravado you had been presenting. The innocent doe rearing its delicate head. You couldn’t bury it away that easily. Zeke took this opportunity to be relentless and lapped at your cunt to the point of overstimulation. Your knees buckled and your legs turned to jelly.

“What’s your name again?” You asked.

Your orgasm was on the horizon. He pulled away, a tendril of spit and fluids connecting his mouth to your cunt.

“It’s Zeke.”

You clenched your jaw and pushed his head back into your crotch, breathing deep as your body trembled.

“Zeke,” you murmured, music to his ears. He wanted his name to be the only word you ever uttered. “You—you’re such a good boy.”

Your chest heaved as you came. Zeke’s body provided enough stability that you didn’t crumble to the floor after your orgasm finally bid farewell.

He wiped his lips and looked up at you. You smirked and got down to his level. You held his face in your hands, your lips overtaking his. Your tongues glided up against each other.

“Now what?” he asked, breaking the kiss.

“Whatever the fuck I want obviously.”

[slocumjoe]

I'm curious if you have any more variety NSFW headcanons about the companions (sexual or non-sexual like you did before is fine)

sure

🎉NSFW grab bag 3🎉

Cait; Completely desensitized to public sex. If she catches it, doesn't think anything of it. So, if/when someone else notices, their reaction confuses her. Someone could be bare ass boning on a table in a bar, and Cait won't react. This bothers her compatriots immensely. "Cait, please, for our own sanity, alert us when there is sex so we can leave." "...Why are you watching? Kinda rude." Stresses Danse the fuck out in particular. She's not even a voyeur, she just doesn't care. How do you think they made y– oh. Right.

Curie; Dreads inspections of the genital variety because her patients make it weird. Ma'am, Curie knows what's down there. She isn't spooked. She has one too. Just let her do her job so she can figure out how to help you. If one more person makes a fisting/fingering/prostate exam joke, she's going to do it, regardless of what they're actually in for. Broken leg? No, you brought this upon yourself. Oh, and by the way...if the doctor/nurse doesn't ask you to drop your pants, or undress in anyway...DON'T FUCKING UNDRESS.

Danse; Hypervigilant of public sex ever since he figured out that it could be happening anywhere, in any manner, and Cait won't say anything. A bossy partner has him by the throat and he's completely obsessed with it. Can get out of handcuffs pretty easily. Doesn’t know where he learned that, just knows its a fun plot twist in bed. Especially if there are repercussions. He's a good little soldier boy, he wants to serve and be punished for disobeying. Sometimes wonders if he subconciously joined the Brotherhood for impure reasons. They do have collars on the jumpsuit...and Danse ends up liking that sort of thing...

Deacon; His ultimate fantasy is a generic Royal setting. He's the concierge/bard for the visiting noble family, there to marry their son off to the king's child (his partner). But the marriage cannot go through, as there's been a murder attempt on the king! As the bard, he sees all in the court and festivities, watching from the sidelines and speaking in hushed tones with the servants, gathering clues, but...the bride/groom-to-be is what truly catches his eye...but they, themselves, suspect him as the would-be assassin. This ends in doggy in a bush outside a fancy colonial building in Boston, in place of a castle garden.

Gage; A lot more prudish than you'd think. Not to Danse's levels, but definitely not Cait's, either. Becomes more prudish if he's into someone, and they're being risqué. Most of it is directed at himself, feels like the dirty old man he is. Guilty of wandering eyes. Gets more flustered by someone being half-dressed/dressed revealingly than them being naked. Leaving it to the imagination and such.. Naked is nice, yeah, but...let him think about it, and his partner will have a noticeably more intense experience.

Hancock; Once had a wet dream his dick fell off and he kept it for himself. The idea doesn't appeal to him at all in his waking hours, so he's terribly confused. Has a soft spot for a nice jawline and eyebrows. Acts like a bottom to his partners, bratty, and then tables the turns once they're in bed. If his partner switches it up again, he'll play along, only to also switch things again. This will continue until someone cums, or they're so stubborn they never stop and both of them die of exhaustion. The longest streak was 45, both sides.

MacCready; Would die if he had sex with one of them thick gothic milfs those tiktok kids are always drooling over. MacCready likes mean, bully women. Valley girls, maybe even that Ann Codman lady in D.C. Would he get in a relationship with them? God, no. One-night stand? Yes. Yes, 100%, no question. Maybe it's the confidence to be horrible? He's pretty embarrassed about this. He should be. This fuck would clown around with Regina George in The Costume.

Nick; Long, long ago, Nick Valentine, with his theatrical tastes, his love of the arts, found himself in...certain circles. Ones with polite, soft-spoken men and women, who could turn as hard as you begged for. Later in life, Nick would use his experience in these circles for his and Jenny's enjoyment, though at that point, he was the ring-master of the show. And maybe, potentially...200 years after the world ended...a synth detective could use implanted memories of such times to gentle-dom someone's brains out.

Piper; Has spent a concerning amount of time scavenging adult shops for sex toys. Anything that works and is clean/cleanable. Just...needs something that isn't ol' reliable, y'know. Gets a bad case of the Idiot when horny, everyone becomes a bit more appealing. If she was totally honest...Cait would be her first choice, if she had one. If not Cait, X6-88. That man is goddamn pretty. Yeah, Piper has a things for bad girls/boys.

Preston; I've said before, Preston had a hoe phase, when he first joined the Minutemen. He was a good looking young man, traveling around with other physically fit people who just joined as well, sometimes helping people who were very grateful. So, yeah, Preston has had more than one partner at a time. Would he do that now? If it was a poly situation, and he liked both of them, maybe. But looking back, he's surprised he never caught something, be it a a disease or a complex. Sometimes remembers lines of dirty talk and cringes out of his own skin.

X6-88; The Institute is very strict on schedules and worktime, and there isn't much privacy. The walls are thin. There isn't often individual bedrooms, so as to save time and resources. So...when humans get a little frisky...they do it when, and where they can. This can means down a work tunnel, behind loud machinery...under a desk, occasionally. Sometimes you get guard duty. Sometimes you have to go find the people in question. Sometimes you're just walking.

X6-88 has seen a lot.

[windienine]

obsessed with the way ysme & loic's senses of humor counterbalance and play into one another

ysme has her whole court jester schtick, she'll lay into you over nothing and prod and prod and prod at you until she finds something you're insecure about (hopefully bawdy and easy to exploit) and then keep prodding 'til you squirm. the fun thing is that she gets flustered pretty easily herself, her ego is kind of fragile and she's easily put out when stuff doesn't go her way. she's this fluid person whose mood and bearing can change a lot from moment to moment, and that includes self-image and confidence.

and it doesn't work on loic even a little. like he's clearly capable of getting nervous and frightened (loses composure when the voice kills ysme, thrown off-kilter upon finding out that ghosts are real, ysme can sense that he's scared of her when she goes full goddess mode) but he categorically can't be humiliated. if he thinks a joke about him is funny he'll lean in and yes-and the bit, if he doesn't, there's a tortured beat panel or an "alright then" and he moves on. he's having fun with ysme in so many of their little back-and-forths even when he's being ribbed because he just turns them into new conversation pieces and learns about what ysme cares for and prioritizes with every bit. (all those vegetable, the flashlight bit, asking if he'll carry her, ass flower, fish flower, etc.) the more he plays with her and ribs back. he finds her fun to talk to.

at multiple points we're given these hints that a pet peeve of loic's is bureaucracy and closed-mindedness in others, systems thinking and architecture that doesn't allow for certain aspects of people or nature to shine through. ysme's relentless weirdness is its own breath of fresh air. when she's being playfully antagonistic.

things ysme has tried to tease loic about and failed:

his masculinity (doesn't care, fine with how he is)

his physique (doesn't care, will rib himself right along with you)

trying to be a hero (not why he acts the way he does, ineffective)

his nerd hobbies (likes when she expresses any interest in what he does, gets mildly put-out about being cut off when trying to explain something, but otherwise will keep offering to explain stuff at every opportunity whenever it's relevant regardless)

his sex life (complete no-sell, ysme this man has a daughter and an ex! he's not a prude! the fact that you assume you will Get Him To Crack This Time is a wile e coyote line of thinking and i love you for it)

lia (cares greatly, but doesn't so much as get icy when ysme tries to rib him about her. just moves on.)

it's like every time she expects to catch him out and embarrass him til he melts into a prissy heap or gets angry, but that's just not the kind of person he is, and it's a little endearing that she keeps trying over and over again because getting under people's skin seems to be The One Way She Knows How To Connect With And Understand People. being vulnerable and open with someone would involve giving them power over her and questioning her motives and her goals and her sense of self is the last thing she needs when she's trying to become god, so she uses dark humor to act like she's above everything that happens.

if loic wasn't completely immune to the routine/as willing to play along with ysme, i don't think she'd take even a fraction of the interest she does in him. it doesn't really add up to her: someone who has no sense of self-preservation and no ego but also this much confidence in who he is and what he stands for blindsides her. what kind of weirdo has this much dedication to a way of life and personal code but has no desire to convert anyone else to acting the same way OR to do anything but help her? either be a proud asshole with the will to live or a shy weakling without it. why is he neither? what does he really want, if he sticks around after getting maimed?

the whole little end scene of the prelude is her trying to suppress the fact that she is feeling all of her feelings intensely and she is literally and figuratively cast naked before the narrative as someone whose mask is broken and who is coming dangerously close to admitting she cares about someone.

and to that loic in his own semi-straightforward way declares that even from a few disparate pieces of truth, he knows who she is in this moment and it's someone who really wants to be free of whatever life she came from. and this messes ysme up because she expected him to hate her once the opportunity arose, that she'd have to break him to her will again and again and again. here he is of his own free will after giving up his own life. fucking weirdo!

loic only ever raises his voice when ysme is in danger. ysme thinks this is weird and maybe some part of a bigger lie that will unravel the more time he spends with her. unfortunately, she is getting attached.

[faces-ofvenus]

College Aegon starting to fall in love with you modern!

(I recommend you read this headcanon was very inspired to write this headcanon)

Choose a course "c/c"

As said Aegon is like a chameleon in the university, he changed courses like a reptile changes its skin, and in one of these changes he found you, so beautiful, so intelligent, so superior to him, don't get him wrong, he didn't want to go w/c, but frankly he was tired of his current course as well as the others, he practically ran the whole university, or almost, and it was there that he found you, so focused on what you do, so beautiful, your professor made you sit together, to his delight and his disgust.

You looked at him like he was an alien, yes he was a hottie, his characteristic white hair, but short, he was just plain hot, yes yes, very hot, but also a drunken asshole who only thinks about where he's going to put his dick tonight, and yes he flirted with you, yes you liked it, and yes you pretended not to care, his voice was so, wow, you had horrible thoughts, but still-you wouldn't let him down, you wouldn't give him the taste, not for him.

It only made him think you were hotter, you were so beautiful, listening to you explain the subject to him was so enlightening, even though he was already hating the whole class the minute he stepped into it, maybe your voice, the way your lips moved, your eyes shining with interest, your hands restless, he felt good, it was interesting, yes you turned him on but he wanted to talk to you, or rather listen to you, and that made him want you to feel the same way.

After that little job you thought, not over, he was going to move on with his life, probably start something else and leave it unfinished, besides finally leaving your thoughts alone, yes you couldn't get him out of your head but who could, he was remarkable in a bad or good way,

You couldn't allow yourself to be fooled like that, not with the bad reputation that haunted you, the evidence was there, and you were anything but stupid to let it go, but he simply haunted you and forced himself to sit next to you in the next classes, you hated him, because you simply didn't move on, and because you were behind it,

Aegon didn't seem to be interested in what was being taught, and he really didn't care, whether it was with account or not, he didn't care, it just seemed that the only thing that caught your attention was your face looking at the board or book, it was annoying you thought, It was embarrassing, you look away and he's leaning his head on your hand, looking at you shamelessly, and when your eyes meet he barely looks away, just gives you an even bigger smile, and gives you a wink, asking what it was about and that he wanted your explanation.

— Aegon, if you paid attention to what the professor said, you would know what we are studying.

— But I only understand with you!!!

From then on it would only get worse, for you of course, because he didn't know why whenever he was going to have sex with a fucking girl your face appeared in his mind, painting your face and what your possible demonstrations of pleasure would look like, whenever he flirted he saw you, and he could only flirt with someone who merely looked like you, when he skipped or skipped class and you thought you were rid of him, there he was waiting for you on the way out, he tried to talk to you, even though you answered him harshly, or only with short and direct lines, he wanted more, he just wanted you not to be so indifferent to his presence.

When he found out that Jacaerys knew you, it was almost the last straw and it became almost a duty to be his cupid, Jace denied it, you were his friend, you were his little childhood crush, and honestly he wouldn't set you up with someone like your uncle, not when he knows Aegon's fame as a catcher, he couldn't tolerate a man like him, being with you.

But Aegon swears to his heart and soul that this time it's not just about sex, he's obsessed, he wants you, and honestly he doesn't see you as just a one-night stand, even if you are the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on, Jace only helps him when he promises not to break your heart, obviously he doesn't trust Aegon's word too much, but Aegon's desperate, drunken voice annoys him, yes he lost count of how many times he got calls from a drunk Aegon and whatever else he used that night, at 3, 4, 5 in the morning asking about you, and what your type of man is like, and Jace is like, what the fuck, I don't know her ideal type, do you think I notice the men she picks up or looks at (yes when he was in love with you he did, but that's not the point)

And so he would begin his hunt to conquer his beloved.

[icanseethefuture333]

REAL DELULU YELLIN OUT MY MAAAANS 😜🤪😝

Why are people so mad about the reading I did for Mark's ideal type?:

Oh lord 🙄 so it seems people had expectations for the reading and thought it was going to be what they thought it would to be (or even wanted) vs thinking from Mark's perspective. They are in denial of the fact that Mark could be sexually attracted to such women and are babying him??? They don't want to acknowledge the fact Mark could actually have an active dating life. The way they view him is like a child, they can't fathom the thought of Mark having sex or being with an "alluring" type of woman. It's as if they want him to be with the type of girl they think he should be dating (what are they his mother? The entitlement! I just have to laugh 🤭). Some people could even be disappointed that they don't fit his ideal type 💀. They're just choosing to fight with me *sarcastic baby voice* because they think they know their precious Markie so well 🥺! Sigh 🤧😪 Instead of going by the saying "take what resonates and leave what doesn't" they're lashing out due to having poor self esteem.

Is it multiple people or just one person that keeps sending me anons to my inbox?:

Ew 😂! It's literally just only two of the same people who can't get over it. Embarrassing. I have a feeling these two might know each other or are possibly mutuals. If not, they both share in common that Mark is their bias and they are upset and shocked to hear about his love life. They wish it could be them. How boring 😴🥱 One thinks they are tough shit but is actually scary as hell because they can only talk shit on anon 😂. The other one seems to be in their feelings. Upset about the reading perhaps? Or what I said as a response? Can't please everyone I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

What does Mark's future spouse have to say?:

Channeled song is Twinnem by Coi Leray.

"That's my twinnem, go, best friend

We killin' 'em (Yeah)

No new friends

Get rid of them"

At the end of the day Mark's future spouse is here to stay and they do not give a fuck about how people feel about it. "OH MY GOD🤬! I am never leaving! I am never leaving, I'm in this shit forever! 😃🤞"

They are someone who is very beautiful, confident, and wealthy on their own. They could possibly be popular or famous themselves. The style and beauty of the girls in the cards is a loooot similar to what was stated in the ideal type reading 😂... but let me not trigger the masses again 😮‍💨.

Channeled message for the collective:

"Don't meet your heroes if you aren't going to accept what you see. Once people show you who they are, believe them." Phew and ain't that the truth! Let em know spirit guides 🙌🏽🙏🏽! People want to idolize and be infatuated with a projected image of a mask people in the media have to put on every single day. They would have to face the truth that they don't actually know the celebrities they love and adore, so that scares them. The reason it's so scary to them is because they'd have to be honest with themselves about what behavior they exhibited in defense of their precious idols. You guys are putting absolute strangers onto a pedestal. Everything that glitters ain't gold. These celebrities are humans just like you. Do better.

Should I piss people off even more by giving the baddies what they want for fs/ideal type readings 😝?:

The cards have spoken... It's a yes bitches 🥳🎉! Can't argue with the universe about what's my calling 😌😘☺️. By providing such readings to my followers I am making a larger scale of people happy and I am allowing them to have fun! Some of the viewers are enjoying the possibility of it maybe being them (and there ain't nothing wrong with being a little bit delulu, as long as its in a healthy manner 😌🥰 keep it cute, don't be acting crazy and obsessive now lol). I could be even awakening some of my followers higher consciousness or helping them with the ability to manifest their desire. Overall, there is a sense of community happening for myself and my followers 💖, we will be able to celebrate about it soon!

[dykephan]

hi, totally agree with you about the december getting together thing and just wanted to add on to a few points. One about online perceptions and stuff is they mightve both wanted to have this appearance of a cool, sexy, mysterious, emo guy on the internet who is "mature" and has casual sex all the time nbd lol and not wanting to seem clingy. Its kind of embarrasing to want more sometimes (its cheesy, its meant to be). For Dan I also dont think he would want Phil to see him as an obsessed fan (also the age thing) so putting up a nonchalant front would help put them on more even footing. For Phil its just like you already said mainly and not wanting to scare Dan off, following Dan's lead. Also Dan just getting out of a longterm relationship and being 18 he might not have been inclined to tie himself down quick when he was single for the first time in a bit, especially to someone who lives far away, but then obv realized this thing with Phil wasnt just going to be some casual fling. Also lol this "reveal" was not weird/ suprising to me bcos of my own experience of being with this girl for like 3 ish months had been friends previously we were having sex and saying we loved eachother etc but whole time being like we're not dating though lol

oh 100% agree, especially when you're at that age it's sooo embarrassing to admit you do want to find someone who cares about you and enriches your life and shares a future with you... it's so much easier to flirt with strangers online and pretend you're too cool to feel any particular way about it. like you said, i think it comes down to both of them realizing that this was not going to be some casual fling. and 2 months is honestly no time at all considering how much they had to think about & plan for!!

also yeah i agree it wasn't surprising to me it was more just like. first of all like holy shit why are you sharing this information with me unprompted are you sure you meant to say that?? second of all, i guess i didn't KNOW until i KNEW. it's one thing to look at the things they posted around that time period and make guesses, but hearing it out loud made me feel sooooo dumbfounded. idk why but that one hit me way harder than the tour bus thing...

anyway let me share a personal anecdote here because it's only fair after i've invaded their privacy i should embarrass myself a little fksjfks many years ago i started talking to a tumblr mutual and we got super close as friends, we spent literally hours talking every night and we'd even fall asleep on skype just to be with each other. i told her things i have still never told anyone else in my life. and ofc there was heavyy flirting which was fun except i have horrible commitment issues.. doing all this online didn't feel as scary and real to me. but then we made plans to actually travel and meet up, and i started getting. idk. itchy 😭 but i did go across the country to meet her and it was such a perfect weekend, she was so funny and beautiful and even more magnetic in person. it clarified my feelings about her in a way that chatting online never could, but also it scared the shit out of me and so when that weekend was over i went back home and i told her i couldn't do it anymore and that was it. we tried to be friends after that but it just wasn't the same and neither of us had our hearts in it. i still think about her and hope she's doing well but we haven't talked in years

so basically i'm living in the dark dan and phil timeline where they filmed pinof and then said okay bye dude 👍🏻 fuck my stupid baka life

[red-writes]

Could maybe get some forced proximity with Izuku (or anyone) who has been trying to control himself but has a huge crush on chubby reader? Like he’s getting hard when her shoulder brushes up against his and has to run to the bathroom to rub one out before coming back kinda crush. They somehow get trapped in a small supply/janitors closet and she can’t help but keep accidentally grinding her voluptuous ass against his dick while being pushed up against the shelves and Izuku is trying to be a good boy and not give in because obviously y/n can’t help it :[[ she totally doesn’t also have a crush on him and doing it on purpose :[ but he looses it once he realizes she’s getting off on it intentionally which leads into some back bending sex in this super small supplies closet? But oh man do they gotta keep quiet because the bell just rang!! (If requests aren’t open my apologies just ignore this!!)

you can't just expect me to not write this wonderful idea now that you've sent it, this is such good flavor!!!

for three whole years, izuku midoriya has been obsessed with you. you, his angel-like friend who has been by his side since the beginning of his hero journey. he loves everything about and cannot imagine himself loving anyone as much as you but that posed another issue for him. he wanted you just as much he loved you. and he found it extremely hard to hold himself back everyday. just the slightest whiff of your perfume made him tremble. he had to excuse himself from your little ice-cream date because seeing your plush lips wrap around the spoon made his cock twitch to life against his thigh and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was weird and mess everything up between the two of you. izuku already knew that the two of you would just be friends, you'd never shown interest in him and that would be okay--as long as he could stay by your side that was enough for him.

but when he said staying by your side he didn't mean like this...

the closet was tiny. it wasn't made for one person to be in let alone two. you two were face to face, chests pressed together as you tried to avoid knocking down anything behind you.

"someone will be here soon Izuku no need to look so worried" you said, hand resting on his shoulder comfortingly. but that wasn't why he looked worry. it was because this place was so small and your tummy felt so soft rubbing across the front of his pants and he was desperately trying not to think about the fact that your cunt was mere inches away from being pressed up against his crotch. oh god. he was thinking about it and before he realized it he was hard. the tip of his cock poked your stomach. his face flushed in the semi-lit room.

"s-sorry its not.."

"hey it's okay, I know how guys can be--no need to be embarrassed" you reassured him but he didn't want to tell you that he was hard because of how close he was to a girl but because that girl was you.

The silence lasted a bit longer before Izuku noticed you began to shuffle. you began moving your body back and forth and side to side, he hissed lowly to himself, chalking your movements up to it just being a small room but with particularly sharp movement from you he let out a choked moan and you giggled.

"feel good?" you asked and he feels a bit taken aback.

"you're doing this on purpose aren't you?" izuku asks dejectedly. you sigh and roll your hips forward causing the man to lean forward as his hips tremble in pleasure.

"i figure this might be the only time i could show you how i really feel about you so..i'm making my move" you explain as you flip up your skirt and shimmy out of your underwear. you turn around lean forward against the wall, spreading your legs as much as you can in the small space. izuku wants to do things properly, explain to you that he's in love with you, take you on dates, have your first kiss and then maybe do something like this but..his rationality quickly diminishes when he sees the way you take two fingers and spread your lips apart for him. you turn your heard around to look at him and mumble out a quick "please" and Izuku's fingers begin undoing his belt with a desperation he's not used to. he barely gets his cock out of his underwear before he's pushing the fat tip against your hole. he slowly pushes his cock in and the sounds you make have him gritting his teeth, begging himself not to cum.

once he's fully settled in, you shake your hips, encouraging him to begin and Izuku feels like he might melt. you're so hot and wet and you feel so good around him. he doesn't start gently. his thrusts are wild, his fingers dig into the meat of your back as his hips slammed against yours.

the angle of his cock had him hitting your g-spot with a clumsy precision that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. various things fell from the shelves around you but you couldn't care, not when izuku was fucking the feeling from your legs, you could hardly stand but you couldn't care. all you could feel was that knot tightening in your stomach and an orgasm on the horizon.

Izuku's hips stuttered as he came inside of you. you felt a wave of disappointment crashed over you as you lost the build up of your orgasm.

"sorry..s-sorry you just felt so good.." he apologized but you sighed, turning back around to face him.

"it's okay, i'm glad you felt good"

with what little room you two had, izuku got on his knees in front of you and tossed one of your legs over his shoulder.

"you deserve to feel good too"

(sorry abt the ending I got lazy lmao)

[laguera25]

hi! may i add my 2 cents regarding Tills new choice of gf? what is the big deal? i geuinely want to know what is this new big thing we havent all seen before ad nauseam, be it with Till, or his band or any other middle aged/old famous man. why the shock and the outcry and the nail biting NOW? he has a hot new gf 1/3 of his age. so does every man who can and is thus inclined. Till in particular has been having this sex obsessed phase for decades, this is not new, why is this news? why do we care, as a collective fanbase? i know why german media cares they gotta sell newspapers but us? why do we suddenly care now, with this girl, and think its sad or a downfall or any of the sort of drama? genuinely curious. do you have any ideas?

cheers & merry christmas! 🎄

I think that after this scandal, everyone is sensitive and wound up. The scrutiny on him is currently increased, and I have no doubt that someone like Drepper would love to catch him in another embarrassment.

As for me, I find it a sad cliche, but hardly a crime. If he feels the need to cosset his dick with pretty, young women and then whinge that love isn't real, that's his right. But if it blows up in his face because some unscrupulous reporter gins up some sordid fantasies, I'm not going to clutch my pearls and pretend to surprise.