#boys school

[florianniss]

Trouble with angels

Steve has lunch detention all week in the office. It’s busy, phones ringing and teachers running in and out to check their mail. Most of them stop to talk, ask why he’s there, and then frown when they find out the reason. Mr. McGann promises yet again not to tell his father and wants Steve to do extra laps during practice.

It’s fine. He’s out of shape anyway. Been a bit of a slacker lately.

Friday is Homecoming and the football team is supposed to dress up. He irons his pants and chooses a shirt that doesn’t make him look like a dork. No tie, though. He’s not that invested in it.

Because someone went and nominated him for Homecoming King. It’s stupid, really. There aren’t any girls to be Queen, and lord knows they won’t be selecting two guys for the title.

First and second hours are fine. Eddie’s back to sleeping during lessons, and the teachers ignore him. Steve catches him between classes and finds he’s kind of in an owlish mood.

“They want me to cut my hair.”

Steve feels it viscerally, as if it’s a personal attack. “No. They can’t do that. They don’t have the right –”

Eddie smiles wryly and leans against his locker. Steve could never look as cool as he did. “Nah. It’s just another way to punish me. Say it’s part of the ‘dress code.’”

He makes air quotes and rolls his eyes.

Lunch detention that day ends up being in the kitchen, washing pots. And it’s not just the day-to-day ones that are used for boiling pasta. Miss Diane has pulled out the ugliest, oldest, dirtiest, rustiest ones from storage, a smug look on her face as she hands Steve what looks like a damn hazmat suit.

“Hairnet,” she lists off, handing him the box that dispenses them one at a time. Steve grumbles a bit and then takes one, opens it into a spidery web kind of thing, and cringes as he slips it over his head.

He feels like a fool as he runs the sink tap and pours in way too much soap, watching the bubbles take over. There’s not enough room for the water, soap begins to cascade over the edge, and that’s when someone comes up behind him.

“Dude, have you never done dishes before?”

Eddie’s grinning at him, wearing a normal plastic apron over his t-shirt and jeans, his hair pulled back and also covered with a hairnet. He’s carrying a bin full of lids, sweating slightly. And Steve has never been more happy to see him.

Eddie drains the water and rinses out half of the suds and starts over, while Steve stands back and shamelessly ogles his ass. His jeans are super tight and there’s a crease under each cheek. It does something to Steve’s gut, somewhere behind his navel. Gets him all tingly and warm feeling.

“There,” Eddie announces proudly and turns to face Steve, forearms loaded with suds. “Now you’re ready, Rich Boy.”

Steve likes when Eddie calls him that.

They make a lot of noise, push each other and spill water on the floor. Eddie’s sneakers make the most horrible squeaking sound, gets them laughing. Giggling.

Steve likes it when Eddie giggles.

When Miss Diane comes in towards the end of lunch period, it’s clear she doesn’t like them. She sees the mess on the floor and scowls, makes them stay late and miss Band cleaning up. Then she separates them; Eddie wipes down all the tables with bleach, and Steve sweeps up all the crap students leave on the floor.

Eddie finishes first and disappears behind the sink area, and Steve focuses on getting every last wrapper and french fry into a pile. When he’s finally done and the cafeteria floor is spotless, he hears Eddie calling his name from the kitchen.

“Steve, come here a sec.”

Like a fly being lured into a spider's web, Steve obeys, and Eddie doesn’t disappoint. He’s wearing a metal colander on his head, holding a long-handled strainer in one hand, and an over-large pot lid in the other.

“Hey,” he grins, his voice cracking a little. “If they crown you King Steve, can I be one of your knights?”

Steve groans; not Eddie too.

He picks up a lid of his own and crashes it into Eddie’s strainer sword. It makes a horrible echoing crash, and both boys freeze, mouths open. If Miss Diane hears, she’ll find something else for them to do.

But she doesn't come. And Eddie does it again, thrusting with the makeshift sword, aiming for Steve’s knees. Giggling like he’s lost his fucking mind.

Steve finds his own helmet in the form of a pot with a handle and defends himself, ducking and weaving, hiding behind the island counter. Eddie chases him round and round until both are breathless, laughing.

That’s when the principal comes in.

Both boys end up missing Jazz Band as they sit side by side in the office. It’s so hard not to smile, not to snort and lose it while the principal is being all disappointed in them.

“Now, you’re needed for the pep fest, Steve,” he says, frowning importantly. “And then the team is meeting during seventh hour. I want you to take this game seriously, do you hear me? Wouldn’t want your dad to be disappointed.”

Heaven help Steve if his father went a day without being disappointed in his son.

Eddie waves as Steve leaves, looking like he’s entirely enjoying himself. It stirs something inside Steve; he’s proud to call this dude his friend.

The auditorium is packed with rowdy boys as Steve and the rest of the team file in for the traditional ceremony. The band plays one of their oldies, and Steve tries to find Eddie in the stands while he waits in a line at the front. (He hopes the guy’s treated fairly and allowed to come.)

Despite all Steve’s insistence that he doesn’t want to do it, the boys vote him the winner. There’s a wild whoop from the band section and Steve knows exactly who it is. His face goes instantly hot.

Coach McGann gets them out of seventh hour for a pep talk and pictures, and then they head to the locker room. There’s plenty of jeering and catcalling, and although Steve wants to ditch out and find Eddie to make sure he’s still going to the game, Mr. McGann stops him.

“Hey, Steve. Need your help with something.”

It’s busy work. A gimmick to keep him occupied, to keep his eye on Steve.

They eat pizza and wings, courtesy of the staff, and then suit up for the game. It’s an early one this time on account of the dance, and as they walk out to the field, Steve’s feeling more and more anxious about getting to see Eddie. In his mind, it will make or break how he plays.

The whole school is there along with family and fans. The boys are introduced by their parents, connecting the whole season together in one fell swoop. Steve eyes the stands as they’re lining up for the national anthem, actually hoping for a wave so he isn’t all alone.

He is, though. Alone. Neither parent makes it, and Steve gets introduced by Coach McGann. There’s cheering throughout the stands, so it’s difficult to tell who’s louder; the home fans, or the band. (He genuinely hopes it’s a certain someone in the percussion section.)

They have a lousy first quarter. Steve starts at quarterback, and nearly every play they make, the defense shuts them down. Brutally. Two guys get hurt and have to leave the game, and if they lose anyone else, coach will have to put junior high kids on the field.

Steve tries to shut out the voices in his head, the ones that say he’s worthless, pathetic, overrated. He hears it loud and clear, though, in his father’s voice. And when the second half is done, the coach calls Steve over and says he’s going to pull him.

“But, it’s not me,” Steve whines, knowing it’s completely useless. Mr. McGann begins with the team effort and ends with not wanting Steve hurt.

“Go for a walk,” he says, lifting his chin to the stands. “Shake it off, and we’ll see.”

Steve leaves his helmet on the bench and pushes his sweaty hair out of his face. He’s humiliated, disgusted with life in general, and feeling bad for acting this way when he doesn’t give two shits about football.

He doesn’t register that someone is calling his name right away.

“Hey! Rich Boy!”

It’s as if the clouds part and the sun finally shows its face. Eddie’s leaning over the railing, grinning like a Cheshire cat, holding a shiny silver trumpet.

“W-what are you — you can play that thing?”

Eddie’s smile widens, if possible. “Yep. Man of many talents. Just like you, if they’d let you get a play off. What the hell? It’s like they’re animals out there!”

Steve appreciates the support. “Nah. I’m just not hitting my mark.”

“Bullshit. Haven’t thrown one of those interchangeable things, now have you?”

Steve laughs even though he doesn’t feel like it. “Interception?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and wets his lips with his long tongue. It’s sorta sexy. “Whatever.”

Then he hauls off and blasts a fanfare on his instrument. “All Hail King Steve!”

Steve takes a swing at him through the bars, and Eddie ducks out of the way. He vaults nimbly over the top railing, lands like a cat light on his feet, and grabs Steve by the neck.

“Hey,” he pants, a little breathless. His face is really, really close. He’s wearing his hair down. It’s soft and shiny and slightly wavy. “Don’t let it get you down that your old man didn’t show. You don’t need him.”

Steve catches the swift change from teasing to cheerleading, and he has to fight back the lump in his throat. Not the right time for weakness, Harrington.

“Can’t wait to watch you play baseball in the spring,” Eddie says, shaking Steve a little. “We gotta cut class more often now to get it out of our system. Not letting you miss out on something you love.”

And then Eddie Munson fucking hugs him. Right there in the open, in front of all those people.

The weight of that simple show of affection seems to sink in, and the guy ruffles Steve’s hair to the point of pain. It’s rough, playful, a boys-will-be-boys thing. And Steve goes a little weak in the knees. It has nothing to do with being physically tired.

Steve watches Eddie return to the stands without looking back. Like clockwork, the coach calls him back for a team pep talk. And before Steve can catch the breath Eddie stole from him, the whistle blows, and they’re at it again.

Things fall into place with about four minutes left in the third, and Steve swears he hears the clear shrill of a silver trumpet two octaves higher than everyone else.

Coach McGann pulls Steve with two minutes left in the game, but it’s pretty much in the bag by then. They’re up by ten with possession of the ball, and as the freshman backup quarterback lets the clock run out, Steve is tackled by his own teammates.

They never let him out of their sight after that. Sing to him in the shower, bow to him as they dress. Hoist him into a wheelbarrow and cart him back over to the school, just in time for the first dance.

It’s absolute fucking chaos.

The dance is semi-formal, so the girls from the invited schools all wear dresses, staring with wide innocent eyes and giggling. It’s annoying, like nails on a chalkboard. Steve can only think of Eddie in his ridiculous colander helmet in the kitchen.

Steve’s polite with the mob, speaks when spoken to, accepts dance requests, and keeps six inches of distance at all times. Coach had pulled him aside for a talk, all about how Steve represents the school and he knows he’ll make them proud.

Steve sees through it; McGann thinks he needs to be a surrogate parent. “I know all about the birds and the bees, Sir. I took your Health class.”

That shuts him up. He slaps Steve hard on the back as if solidifying his masculinity. What would he say if Steve were to tell him that the only person he wants to breed can’t produce him any offspring?

Eddie is on Steve’s mind, and he’s constantly looking for him, knowing full well he’s not going to show. But Steve’s hopeful. There was definitely a connection, a split second where their eyes met, and Eddie looked away first for once.

Eventually, Steve grows grumpy and hot, tired of smiling and pretending he’s enjoying himself. He steals away under the bleachers, and that’s when he meets the second most influential person in his life to that point.

She’s alone, hiding back in the corner, peering out from underneath like some kind of Peeping Tom. She glances sideways as Steve approaches, managing a terrifying glare and warning him off with it.

“You’re not going to ask me to dance, are you?”

Steve’s taken aback; all the other girls got tongue-tied around him. It was kinda nice, actually, quiet. But this person, well, she’s clearly different.

“N-no,” he stumbles, keeping his distance and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good.” She returns to her previous position, spying out from under the fourth row of seats at the other students dancing. “Only person I want to dance with is a little busy right now.”

Steve looks to where she’s watching a group of boys huddled around a petite redhead, sorta on the gangly side, with big eyes and a toothy smile. She’s giggling like all the others, and Steve wonders which one of the boys this person is jealous of this girl over.

“Well,” Steve offers, wanting to help, “we could pretend we’re dancing and make him jealous.”

The girl turns slowly and methodically to gawk at him like he’s completely stupid. “What?”

And that’s when Steve realizes. She doesn’t mean the guys. She means the girl!

Steve has this clarifying moment where he considers this stranger, opening up to him without saying a word. It gives him a little confidence and makes him braver than usual.

“Don’t worry,” he adds, slumping his shoulders as a show of solidarity. “Only person I want to dance with isn’t here. He’s not coming.”

The girl’s eyes open wider and her permanent frown softens a little. She holds out her hand like she’s going to slap him, and Steve flinches.

She frowns with thick eyebrows. “Robin. Buckley. Sophomore.”

Steve’s so stupid. He takes her hand. “Steve Harrington. Senior.”

Her grip is firm, confident, not at all sweaty like his. She shakes once and releases, wipes her hand dramatically on her blue dress, and goes back to her undercover work.

“You think you know someone, right? Like really, really know them. Let them copy your homework, drive their drunk ass home, go all Top Gun for them, you know?”

Steve doesn’t know, but he can imagine. She speaks with the attitude of a lover scorned.

“I even got this stupid job where she works so we could spend more time together. Turns out she just recruited me to take the shifts she didn’t want.”

It was hard not to smile, but Steve doesn't dare. She might beat him up.

“Now I’m stuck working four nights a week instead of two, plus marching band, plus homework. And my parents, they make me call when I get to work. Every. Single. Time. The only thing saving me from going postal is the fact I don’t have to spend every waking hour at home.”

Steve considers that and opens his big mouth. “Any chance they’re hiring?”

Those intelligent eyes swivel his way again and she actually smiles.  “Seriously?”

They do end up dancing, slow, to Van Halen's fast-paced 'Dreams.' Robin hangs off his shoulders and laughs loudly. It’s so different from the insincere tittering of the other girls that Steve has to hide his face in her shoulder to keep from blowing their cover. But the girl named Vickie looks on with disbelief. When she finally approaches, Robin pretends she doesn’t hear her and Vickie has to tap her shoulder.

“Hey. We’re going to DQ for Blizzards. You coming or what?”

Robin smiles wickedly at Steve, grabs him with a hand on each side of his face, and plants a great big wet one on the kisser.

“Mwah!” is the sound she makes as she backs off. “Come see me at Lake Video, Harrington.”

He’s so shocked he mumbles in agreement and watches as Vickie slips an arm through Robin’s and they hustle all chummily toward the exit.

Steve leaves soon after; Robin has left a void and he’s only just met her, and suddenly he’s thinking about Munson again.

Somehow his car makes its way to the dorms, and Steve is idling in the parking lot, wondering which window belongs to Eddie. He’s thinking of pulling a Ferris Bueller and busting him out of the joint. His hand is on the door handle, all set to do it, and like an idiot, he chickens out.

“Dammit.”

Steve puts the car in drive and pulls out of the lot and finds the video store where Robin works. By some stroke of luck, it’s still open. He sits in the car for ten minutes trying to remember Eddie’s eyes after he hugged him, thinks of him licking his lips before playing God Save the Queen, or whatever the fuck it was. He kicks himself for being a coward, gets out of the car, and asks the front desk clerk for an application.

Trouble With Angels on AO3 (3 chapters - WIP)

[emlynphoenix]

Real person that looks like 🥰

I wish I was lucky in school. The girl I had a crush on is straight. Also figuring out my sexuality was so hard. Having a bisexual lead is amazing representation

[kn1ght-l1ght]

Posting this iconic piece of media that I just NEVER found online isolated except in an archived reddit thread

[priyadanu1]

Bangalore Boys Academy: Shaping Tomorrow's Leaders

In the bustling cityscape of Bangalore, where innovation and progress intertwine, stands a beacon of educational excellence - Bangalore Boys Academy.

Nestled amidst verdant surroundings, this esteemed institution and boy's school in Bangalore has been shaping the young minds of tomorrow for decades, instilling within them the values, skills, and knowledge necessary to emerge as leaders in their chosen fields. 

History and Legacy

Founded in [year], Bangalore Boys Academy has a rich history steeped in a tradition of academic brilliance and holistic development.

From its humble beginnings, the academy has grown into a renowned educational powerhouse, earning accolades both nationally and internationally for its commitment to excellence. 

Mission and Vision

At Bangalore Boys Academy, our mission is clear: to nurture and empower young boys to become confident, compassionate, and competent individuals who can thrive in an ever-changing world.

Our vision is to be a catalyst for positive change, producing leaders who are not only academically proficient but also socially responsible citizens capable of making meaningful contributions to society.

Academic Excellence

At the heart of Bangalore Boys Academy lies a rigorous academic program designed to challenge and inspire students to reach their full potential.

Our distinguished faculty comprises passionate educators who are experts in their respective fields, dedicated to fostering a love for learning and intellectual curiosity among their students.

With a comprehensive curriculum that blends traditional wisdom with modern innovations, we ensure that our boys are well-equipped to excel in an increasingly competitive global landscape.

Beyond the Classroom

Education at Bangalore Boys Academy extends far beyond the confines of the classroom.

We believe in providing our students with a well-rounded educational experience that encompasses co-curricular and extracurricular activities.

Whether it's sports, arts, or community service, we offer a plethora of opportunities for our boys to explore their interests, hone their talents, and develop essential life skills such as leadership, teamwork, and resilience.

Holistic Development

At Bangalore Boys Academy, we understand that true success is not just about academic achievements but also about personal growth and character development.

Through our comprehensive student support services and pastoral care programs, we ensure that each boy receives the guidance and encouragement he needs to navigate the challenges of adolescence and emerge as a well-rounded individual of integrity and purpose.

Global Outlook

In an increasingly interconnected world, Bangalore Boys Academy prepares its students to be global citizens who are culturally aware, socially responsible, and ethically grounded.

Through international exchange programs, collaborative projects, and cross-cultural initiatives, we expose our boys to diverse perspectives and experiences, broadening their horizons and fostering a spirit of tolerance, empathy, and understanding.

Parent and Community Engagement

At Bangalore Boys Academy, we recognize the importance of collaboration between the school, parents, and the wider community in supporting the holistic development of our students.

We actively encourage parental involvement through regular communication, parent-teacher meetings, and involvement in school activities.

Additionally, we maintain strong ties with local businesses, organizations, and educational institutions to provide our boys with real-world learning opportunities and mentorship.

Facilities and Resources

Our state-of-the-art campus provides a conducive environment for learning, with modern classrooms, well-equipped laboratories, expansive libraries, and recreational facilities.

We continually invest in upgrading our infrastructure and resources to ensure that our students have access to the latest tools and technologies that enhance their learning experience.

Alumni Network

The legacy of Bangalore Boys Academy extends far beyond graduation.

Our alumni network boasts an impressive roster of accomplished individuals who have made their mark in various fields, from business and politics to science and the arts.

Through our alumni association, former students stay connected with each other and with the academy, offering mentorship, networking opportunities, and support to the next generation of leaders.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Bangalore Boys Academy stands as a shining example of educational excellence, innovation, and leadership.

With a steadfast commitment to nurturing the potential of every boy who walks through our doors, we continue to shape the future leaders of tomorrow, empowering them to make a positive impact on the world around them.

Join us on this journey of discovery, growth, and transformation at Bangalore Boys Academy, where every boy is inspired to reach for the stars and become the best version of himself.

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[sp7-mr]

[densewentz]

same

[minzart]

People who experience romantic and/or sexual attraction are so funny sometimes

They will ask "who's your crush?" And you will answer "i don't have one" and then it starts

"Why are you liying?", "you can trust me", "don't hide", "i don't belive you", "what?! Everyone has one come on", "hmhu it's [name] isn't it?".

in the extreme cases (mine once) they won't let you even leave the conversation and place it started

And so you lie

And when if "confession" comes from "name" and you reject it every single persson who made you lie will be angry.

Honey. Why the fuck are you angry? You decided a lie is more realistic than reality

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

[egophiliac]

finally got some time to finish these guys up! which is sort of ironic considering I started these because I wanted to draw Malleus with a Dragapult, and then I just didn't for a million years!

Malleus has the aforementioned Dragapult, except it's a super special non-canon color Dragapult (like an anime-only form that you could get in-game exclusively through some limited-time event where you have to show up in-person at a specific location in Japan) (it has some wacky overpowered exclusive move/form and the OT is listed as Malleus) (so like that kind of ridiculous specialness) (Leona is extremely salty about this). also hoards and hoards of Dreepy. Dreepy LOVE Malleus. they take naps on his horns inbetween begging him to throw them across the island at mach speeds.

Lilia has a Drampa and a bunch of Woobat that he hasn't actually caught, they just follow him around in swarms because they sense a kinship with him. (also breaking my own rule again to say that he had a Mawile in the past, because...I just really wanted to give him a Mawile...)

Sebek has Sandile for obvious reasons, and also a Pikachu that bullies him relentlessly. :(

Silver has a shiny Corvisquire; I really went back-and-forth on also giving him an Aegislash, but...hm. those pokedex entries though. he can stick with just one for now.

(I hadn't planned on the shiny for him, but after I'd decided on the Corvisquire line and was looking it up for reference, I realized that shiny Rookidee is gold and then turns silver when it evolves and I lost my entire goddamn mind)

[sourlove]

YANDERE JOCK 🏈

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER

(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)

Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.

Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."

Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.

Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!

Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.

Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.

Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.

Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!

Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.

Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?

Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!

Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?

Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.

Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.

Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.

Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.

Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.

FIND ALL OTHER PARTS + MY OTHER WORKS HERE

A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)

@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)

[kazoosandfannypacks]

as always, I'd love to hear your answer in the tags, especially if it's one of the "other" choices!

[mayomkun]

But I still think of you

[eldritch-ace]

I present some nerdy prudes (oh and Max)

(I really wanted to take a shot at giving them all more than 1-3ish outfits that I think fit their styles)

[theosbaby]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

flashing mattheo during an argument

NSFW content ahead, +18

one second, he's shouting some unintelligible shit at you, and the next one, he's almost drooling at the sight of your pretty tits, naked just for him to see. he's falling silent in fucking milliseconds. but god, they're so bloody perfect... how could he not stare at them?

It's not fair, you know he loves them, and you use that knowledge against him. every. fucking. time.

he can't even remember what you were fighting about in the first place, not that he cares anymore, anyways. your full, round tits have him fucking mesmerised, the only thing in his mind at the moment being his feral need to bury his face in them and never come out again, not even for air.

"baby," he would growl, eyes not able to look away from your boobs.

you swear you can see a faint blush appear on his cheeks as you tell him, "i don't wanna fight anymore." you pout cutely at him while you're still tugging your top over your breasts, the piece of clothing it's so small that mattheo wonders how they were fitting inside it in the first place.

"me neither," he replies quietly, starting to walk towards you, not being able to stay away for a second more. "i'm sorry, a'ight?"

"it's okay... 'm sorry too," you also apologise, a little smile tugging at the corner of your plump lips as you watch him leaning forward to wrap his strong arms around you, lifting you up so your tits are right on his face.

and when he finally gets to bury his face in your glorious tits, he's not letting go. he's dragging you to his bed and dropping you in it without pulling an inch away. he lays on top of you, between your spread thighs, lips kissing your soft, pillowy flesh.

"fuck, i love these," he'd mumble against your chest, his hands squeezing your sides tightly. "so fucking perfect."

you chuckle softly at that, which makes your tits bounce slightly, and god, the sight makes him hard in seconds. he hums contently against the supple flesh of your boobs as he teasingly starts sucking and licking your tits everywhere but your nipples, alternating between the two as if he can't decide which one he wants to focus on.

his hands are roaming over your body, groping and caressing your curves as if he's re-learning them. he's squeezing your thighs, your ass, and occasionally, going up to your soft tummy, rough finger pads making goosebumps erupt in your skin.

you don't disturb him, letting him play with your boobs as he pleases while you run your slender fingers through his unruly curly hair. sometimes, you caress his face tenderly, watching with heavy lidded eyes while he worships your body. you find it cute, how much he loves your breasts. he's always wanting to touch them, lick them, kiss them... and it fucking turns you on so much, because you're so sensitive there.

you moan when finally settles on one nipple, sucking on it hard while his hand kneads the other breast. he'd push both boobs together, his mouth dropping the already hard peak he was sucking on to lick at the other. his hips are bucking against you the whole time, grinding his hard on against your drenched core.

he's definitely leaving marks, which you complain about, but he just looks up at you, pupils blown, and says, "they're mine, aren't they? i'll mark 'em if i want to."

after that, he slips his hand inside your shorts and panties, finding you completely soaked for him and that fact makes him groan as he returns to suck on your perky, reddened nipples. his fingers rub your swollen, little clit, making you whimper and squirm beneath him, but he uses his free hand to grab you and keep you still while he stuffs you full of his fingers, burying them knuckles deep. he's making you cum in minutes, orgasm so good that feels like fireworks exploding inside your tummy.

and then, once he's satisfied you, he rips both of your clothes off and makes you ride him. he'd be such a mess beneath you as he watches you jump on top of him, little whimpers escaping his lips against his will. the sight of your perfect tits bouncing right on his face while your tight little pussy squeezes his cock makes him cum so fucking fast that he's almost embarrassed... almost.

more.

[aneclipseatdusk]

And in the end 💚🧡