Reblog If You’re NOT Tumblr Famous, But You ARE Tired And Kinda Gay

I need to sleep

bass makes a dollar. i make a dime. that's why i think about lesbian sex on company time

Wally came up with this, makes us do it at every reunion.

"God, forgive me for I have sinned." The young priest looked up, seeing you. A devil grinning with your hard cock in front of his face, poking his soft cheeks. "But this is for everyone's own good..."

He then puts your whole length in his mouth, immediately down to his throat—moaning crying like a slut. While his small cock twitching and already sprouting precums. "You, called yourself holy?" You asked while thrusting into the young priest's throat. Making him gagged, at your response, he shook his head.

_________________________________________

"Mhmm~! Daddy!!" And there he was. The once known to be a priest—now, wearing a short black skirt, fucking himself with your cock on your thorne as your guards watch everything. His brain is filled with nothing but your cock.

"Bounced faster you bitch." You spat out, smacking his cheeks making him moan—you played along with his hardened nipples as he bounced faster as sinful sounds echoed.

Your guards held their weapon as tight as possible when he cums again on the fourth time. Moaning your name like a prayer. You looked down, seeing his cum. You thought to yourself; were you too cruel to him?

Found my new favorite thing to see whale sharks do

:0

Reblog daily for health and prosperity

ME 'N THE DEVIL - THE SALESMAN

pairing: salesman x bottom male reader

synopsis: A story of obsession and longing, where one man's desperate need for love traps another in a web of fear, desire, and the haunting promise of safety that feels anything but safe.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, kidnapping, drugging, blood, reader's boyfriend is an abusive bitch, death, dubcon, forced submission, breading, cream pie, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 4.1k

A/N: requested by 🥀 anon (link). i don't think i did enough justice to this amazing prompt sksksjsj

The bar was nearly empty that night—just how you preferred it. The soft hum of the jukebox played a tired old rock ballad, the kind that felt heavy with nostalgia, though you couldn’t place why. The faint clink of glassware punctuated the quiet, as the bartender cleaned glasses with the same rhythmic monotony they’d perfected over years.

You sat hunched over the counter, fingers curling loosely around your glass of whiskey. The amber liquid reflected the dim, golden glow of the bar lights, casting distorted shadows against the wood.

“And then he…” You trailed off, swallowing against the lump rising in your throat. You stared into the glass, as though the answer to your pain might be hiding somewhere in the depths of the drink. “He called me a waste of space.”

The words hung in the air, raw and shameful. Your voice wavered, and you fought the urge to cry.

“Like I don’t already feel like one most days,” you mumbled, your lips pressing into a bitter line.

The bartender paused their wiping to nod, their expression one of quiet sympathy. But the gesture felt empty, rehearsed even. They probably heard stories like yours a hundred times a week—drunken tales of bad lovers, broken hearts, and bruised egos. Still, you pressed on.

“He doesn’t just yell,” you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes… he hits me. But he always says he’s sorry after, and I…” A hollow, bitter laugh escaped you, cutting through the thick air. “I keep forgiving him. Like a goddamn idiot.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you and the bartender. Their eyes flicked to the clock, their discomfort palpable. You couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to hear a stranger’s misery, especially one they couldn’t fix?

“Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

The voice startled you—smooth, confident, and close enough to make you stiffen. It came from your left.

You turned your head, blinking at the man who had somehow slipped onto the stool beside you without you noticing. He was striking, his sharp features framed by slicked-back hair that glinted faintly under the dim bar lights. His suit was tailored to perfection, charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes that hinted at wealth and precision. But it was his eyes that caught you most. They were piercing, their intensity almost predatory, like they saw right through you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, your surprise laced with suspicion.

The man smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could melt the edges of even the hardest heart. It was warm, practiced, and just shy of charming.

“You deserve better,” he said, his tone soft but sure. “That much is obvious.”

You frowned, instinctively pulling back a little. The comment was unexpected, and you didn’t know how to take it. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He leaned back slightly, casual and self-assured, like he belonged in every space he entered. “But I couldn’t help overhearing. You deserve better than what you’re settling for.”

The directness of his words left you flustered. You hesitated, unsure whether to be defensive or grateful.

“You don’t even know me,” you muttered, a hint of challenge in your tone.

He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t need to. Some things are obvious.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, searching for some sign of an ulterior motive. But his face betrayed nothing except an odd mix of calm and curiosity. Finally, you turned back to your drink, muttering under your breath, “Bold of you to assume you know my life.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wrong,” he countered smoothly.

The corners of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

The next time you saw him, you were back at the bar, nursing yet another drink after another brutal argument with your boyfriend. The whiskey burned less this time, your tolerance rising in step with your misery.

You’d been thinking about the man from the other night more than you cared to admit—his sharp wit, his confidence, the way his presence had made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

When he appeared again, sliding onto the stool beside you like he belonged there, your heart skipped a beat.

“Rough day?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting, as if you were old friends.

“Something like that,” you muttered, your head low. You didn’t want to spill your heart out again—not tonight.

But he had a way of drawing you out. His questions were easy, his comments sharp but never cutting. Before you knew it, you were talking again—about nothing and everything. About the little annoyances of your day and the bigger cracks threatening to break you apart.

He listened, really listened, and offered thoughts that were insightful without being overbearing. He even made you laugh—a genuine laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks.

By the time you realized how much time had passed, the bar was closing, and the two of you were walking out together.

The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain. He walked you to your car, his presence steady and reassuring beside you.

“You know,” he said as you reached your door, his voice lower now, almost intimate, “you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unrelenting, and for a moment, you felt like he was seeing parts of you you’d tried to hide even from yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, unsure how else to respond.

As you climbed into your car, you caught the way he looked at you through the window—like you were something precious, something he couldn’t quite have but desperately wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. And for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it might be like to let him have you.

The man couldn’t get you out of his head. You consumed him, haunted his thoughts, and stirred something primal in him. But there was one obstacle standing in his way: your sorry excuse of a boyfriend.

He watched from the shadows, studying the man who dared to hurt you. The bruises you tried to hide, the way your voice cracked when you spoke of him—it was enough to fuel The man’s resolve.

The next time he saw you at the bar, he smiled warmly and ordered you another drink. You didn’t notice the way his hand lingered over your glass for just a moment too long, or how the edges of your vision began to blur shortly after you finished it.

When you woke, you were in a dark room. The smell of dust and old wood filled your nostrils, and the faint sound of classical music played from a record player in the corner.

Your wrists were tied to the arms of a chair, the rope biting into your skin. Across from you, your boyfriend sat in a similar chair, thrashing and screaming into the gag that muffled his words.

“What the hell—?” you began, your voice trembling.

“Good evening.”

The man stepped into view, his sharp grin cutting through the dim light. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“It’s simple,” he said, his tone calm. “You’re going to play a game.”

On the table between you and your boyfriend sat a revolver, its gleaming barrel a stark contrast to the grimy room.

“Russian roulette,” The man explained, picking up the gun and spinning the cylinder with practiced ease. “One of you walks out of here. The other… doesn’t.”

Your boyfriend screamed behind his gag, his eyes wild with terror. You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No! I won’t do it!”

“Oh, but you will,” The man said, his smile never wavering. “Because you want to live. And deep down, a part of you wants him to pay for what he’s done to you.”

The man placed the revolver on the table, spinning the cylinder with a flick of his wrist. The ominous cl-click of the mechanism echoed in the room, setting your teeth on edge. He looked between you and your boyfriend, his grin widening as if he relished your fear.

“Let’s begin,” he said, picking up the gun. His movements were deliberate, almost casual, as if this were no more than a game of cards.

“You’re not rolling the barrel?” you questioned in shock, staring into his eyes, which seemed devoid of any emotion.

“What’s the fun in that?” he merely grinned, while adjusting his cufflinks.

He pointed the revolver at you first.

Click.

The sound was deafening, despite the empty chamber. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down the barrel of the gun.

The man chuckled softly, as if entertained by the way your shoulders heaved with each shaky breath. “Nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

He turned the gun toward your boyfriend.

Click.

Your boyfriend thrashed in his chair, muffled cries spilling through the gag as he shook his head violently. You could feel his terror radiating across the small room, mingling with your own.

“I’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a waste,” The man mused, spinning the cylinder again with deliberate slowness. The sound of the metal grinding against itself sent a chill through your entire body.

The gun swung back to you.

Click.

You flinched, tears spilling down your cheeks as your vision blurred. Your mind screamed at you to move, to do something, but you were frozen, your body paralyzed by fear.

The man hummed a classical tune softly under his breath, tapping the side of the gun like he was debating his next move. His eyes flicked between you and your boyfriend, finally landing on the latter.

“Let’s see if he’s feeling lucky.”

He raised the gun again, pointing it between your boyfriend’s wide, bloodshot eyes.

Click.

Your boyfriend screamed into the gag, thrashing so violently that the chair scraped against the floor. Sweat dripped down his face as his muffled cries turned into guttural, animalistic wails of desperation.

The man sighed, feigning disappointment. “Oh, the suspense is killing me,” he said, the grin on his face making it clear that he was enjoying every second.

The revolver spun again, slower this time. You heard every metallic grind as it came to a stop, and your stomach lurched.

This time, the barrel swung back to you. The man pressed the gun against your cheek, the cold metal biting into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re terrified,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, like a lover’s confession.

Click.

You gasped audibly, your eyes darting to his. He stared back at you with a manic glint, his grin splitting wider as though your anguish was his favorite song.

Without warning, he turned the gun back to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend screamed, shaking his head violently, tears streaming down his face. He made a muffled plea through the gag, words you couldn’t make out but understood well enough: he was begging.

The man tilted his head, feigning consideration. “I wonder what your last thought is right now. Regret? Fear? Or maybe it’s anger… at yourself for being such a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot ripped through the room, leaving your ears ringing. Blood sprayed across the table and onto your face in hot, sticky droplets. Your boyfriend’s head snapped back violently before slumping forward, the rope keeping his body upright as blood poured from the jagged hole in his forehead. His body twitched once, then fell still.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder, burning into your nostrils. Your stomach churned as you stared at the lifeless shell of the man who had once called you his.

You should’ve felt horror, revulsion, or even guilt. But somewhere deep down, a small, twisted part of you felt… relief. Relief that it was finally over, that he couldn’t hurt you anymore.

The man stepped closer, crouching in front of you and gently brushing a blood-spattered lock of hair from your face. His touch was uncomfortably tender, a stark contrast to the carnage around you.

“You’re free now,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You stared at him in shock, your mind a haze of terror and conflicting emotions.

Before you could process what had happened, darkness crept in once more.

When you woke, it was to the dim light of dawn filtering through your curtains, casting soft, golden rays across your room. Everything felt disjointed—your body ached in places you couldn’t explain, and your mind was swimming in a haze of fragmented memories. For a few blissful seconds, you thought it was just a nightmare, a grotesque figment of your imagination brought on by too much alcohol and too little sleep.

But then you noticed the faint metallic scent still lingering in the air.

Sitting up, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were rumpled and clung uncomfortably to your skin, but it was the faint smudge of red near your collar that made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to believe it. You stumbled to your feet, each step heavy with dread as you made your way to the laundry hamper.

And there it was—a bloodstained shirt.

The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath hitching as the reality of it all came crashing down. It wasn’t a nightmare. It had happened. The screaming, the gunshots, the blood—it was all real.

You threw the shirt into the deepest corner of the hamper and slammed the lid shut, as though that could contain the memories clawing their way to the surface.

For days, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t function. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of it: his twisted grin, the spray of blood, your boyfriend’s lifeless body slumping forward. Guilt and relief warred within you, an impossible combination that left you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, you realized you had to do something. You couldn’t keep drowning in your own mind. So, you decided to rebuild.

You poured what little savings you had into opening a small bakery, a cozy place tucked into a quiet corner of town. It became your sanctuary, a space where you could channel your pain into something productive. Kneading dough, shaping pastries, and watching loaves rise in the oven—it was simple, grounding work that gave you a sense of control when everything else felt so chaotic.

The bakery quickly became a modest success. Locals loved the fresh bread and the warm, inviting atmosphere you worked so hard to create. For a while, you almost believed you could have a normal life again.

But then he walked in.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the air, and sunlight streamed through the shop’s front windows, casting a warm glow across the wooden countertops. You were arranging a tray of croissants when the bell above the door jingled.

Looking up, your heart stopped.

There he was, standing in the doorway as if he belonged there, his sharp features and piercing eyes unmistakable. He was dressed as impeccably as ever, his suit perfectly tailored and his smile disarmingly casual.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, approaching the counter with an air of ease that made your skin crawl.

Your hands trembled as you wiped them on your apron, trying to steady yourself. “What… what are you doing here?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around the shop with an almost appreciative expression. “Just passing through,” he said finally, as if that explained anything. He slid a few bills across the counter. “A few loaves of sourdough.”

Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed some fresh loaves and wrapped them in parchment paper, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You avoided his gaze, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move.

When you handed him the loaf, your hands brushed for the briefest moment, and you pulled back like you’d been burned. His smile widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone light and polite, as though this were just a normal interaction.

He turned and walked out without another word, the bell jingling softly in his wake.

As you closed shop for the evening, flipping the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED," a deep sigh escaped your lips, the weight of the day melting off your shoulders. It had been one of those relentlessly busy days where time blurred—an endless parade of smiling customers asking for pastries, loaves, and the occasional custom order that had you juggling more than your two hands should allow. The familiar ache in your back and flour dusting your sleeves were reminders of how hard you’d worked. But as the quiet settled in, so did a sense of peace.

For once, your mind wasn’t completely consumed by thoughts of him. It was a rare reprieve, the memories and fears receding like the tide, leaving you with something close to calm. You held onto that feeling tightly, as though letting it slip away might invite the darkness back.

After locking the door and slipping the keys into your pocket, you stood on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at the fading sunlight painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. The thought of going straight home to your empty apartment felt suffocating—too quiet, too lonely, too much room for your thoughts to spiral.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and distant flowers, and an idea bloomed in your mind. The park. It had been weeks since you’d allowed yourself the luxury of just… being. You needed the fresh air, the open space, the sounds of the world moving on around you. Maybe, just for a little while, you could convince yourself that everything was normal.

And then you saw him.

He stood on the sidewalk, holding the bread that he had bought from you for a moment before deliberately letting them fall to the ground. Then, with calculated cruelty, he ground it under his heel, the parchment paper tearing and the loaves crumbling into pieces. A group of homeless people nearby looked on, their gazes hungry and desperate, but he didn’t so much as glance at them.

Instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

That grin spread across his face again, wide and manic, his teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. It wasn’t a smile of kindness or humor—it was a promise. A reminder.

Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, your breathing ragged. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the message was clear: you weren’t free of him.

Not yet.

That night, you awoke with a start, your senses assaulted by the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements hypnotic and eerie, the faint scent of wax and smoke filling the air. Your heart pounded as you realized you weren’t in your bed. The room was unfamiliar—opulent, in a hauntingly old-fashioned way. The furniture was dark wood, the drapes heavy and velvet, the atmosphere suffocatingly intimate.

And then you saw him.

He was standing over you, his silhouette bathed in the golden light of the candles. His suit was pristine as always, his tie slightly loosened, and his sharp features softened just enough to be disarming. But it was his eyes that held you captive, their intensity pinning you in place like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and velvety, carrying a dangerous edge of satisfaction. He crouched beside the bed, his movements deliberate and smooth, his presence overwhelming. “Good. I was starting to think you’d sleep through the best part.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt utterly at odds with the situation. His touch was cold, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help but flinch.

“You can’t run from me,” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with an unyielding certainty. “I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. But you belong to me, and it’s time you understood that.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. You hated how vulnerable you felt, how powerless you were under his gaze. His thumb brushed a tear away, his touch almost reverent, and he smiled—a soft, bittersweet smile that only made you feel more trapped.

“I adore you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment, every thought, it’s all been for you. Don’t you see? I’ve done everything for you. And now, you’re mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, and all-consuming, like he was trying to claim every part of you at once. His hands cradled your face, his grip firm but not painful, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he let go.

You hated yourself for it, but you kissed him back. Your body betrayed you, a spark igniting deep within you that you couldn’t extinguish. His passion was intoxicating, pulling you under like a riptide, and for a moment, you forgot everything else—your fear, your anger, your confusion.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was hot against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured, his voice heavy with conviction. “Forever.”

His words sent a chill through you, not because you doubted him, but because you believed him. There was no escaping him—not his obsession, not his control, not the twisted connection that bound you to him.

Deep down, in the parts of yourself you didn’t want to acknowledge, you knew he was right.

His hands slowly trailed down to the hem of your pants, tugging them off. The cool breeze hit your thighs, forming goosebumps along the soft skin– making you shiver with a mix of delight and fear.

He pressed forehead, slowly inching down to your lips, pulling you in once more, as he lifted you in his arms completely.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he cooed whilst sliding your boxers down, revealing your throbbing erection.

You whimpered at the praise as he brought his hand to your chin to make you face him. His eyes– which previously felt devoid of having any human emotion, were now different. You couldn’t place exactly what it was.

As he pulled you into another searing kiss, one of his fingers prodded at your exposed hole, wet with lube. You yelped at the sudden intrusion, only to be silenced with another kiss.

He slowly pushed his finger in, followed by another, and then another. Three digits were slowly pumping in and out of you, as you held on to the man’s already crumpled shirt for some sense of balance.

When he deemed that you had been prepped enough, he slowly removed his fingers, and replaced them with his hardened length (you hadn't noticed him taking his pants off–oh well).

He pushed the tip in, making you throw your head back, and an almost pornographic moan leaving your lips.

The man let out a low groan,you were so tight that it seemed like your hole was sucking him in. When he bottomed out, you took few deeps breaths, but before you could say anything, he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in.

Your eyes went to the back of your head, jaw going slack. His hands were holding your legs up in such an angle that he was hitting your prostate with every single thrust.

Your hole clenched around his length, almost making it hard for him to move– but he seemed to manage. He fucked into with reckless abandon, marvelling at your pretty sounds– they were angelic to his ears.

Soon, you felt your orgasm consuming you like a raging waterfall; but the man wasn’t finished. He rammed into you even harder than before, the overstimulation making your brain go fuzzy.

Eventually, his thrusts stuttered, and he spilled his load into you– painting your insides a pearlescent white.

You huffed, feeling filled to the brim as he slowly placed you back onto the bed. The exhaustion made sleep consume you once more.

“You’re mine now, little dove– and I’m never letting you go.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

what a beautiful day to remember that trans people of color exist and deserve better

never had a total 180 on a character like I did with xavier schoolspirits. in episode 1 I was certain he killed maddie and I hated whenever he was on screen but now. he's just an intense autism creature. his icy blue eyes have bewitched me. he tried to throw salt on a ghost after everybody told him it would not work. and then it did not work.

,,The Verdict''

Dragon Judge x Criminal male reader

Tw/s: abuse of power, corruption, rough dom, somewhat dubcon (?), breeding, mating, claiming, mentions of getting reader pregnant, marking, double stuffing, brat taming-ish, mentions of blood (reader biting his own lip & scratching)

Goddamnit. God fucking damnit.

You could've gotten away with it if it weren't for the judge's sharp eyes in noticing you sprinting away from the scene of the crime. It wasn't as if you weren't trying to hide either— you were in the dark, how could he had even notice! Unfortunately, your days of being known as the mysterious serial killer are now over as you stand in court, face to face with the families of your victims. Fuck.

You turn to look at the infamous judge or lord, a title given by the public to him. He has been and is still shrouded in mystery. His intimidating gaze is a sufficent warning to make people look away and abandon any thought of discovering more about him. He is known to be a very neutral and cold judge. Having been around this exact courthouse for 20 years, he seems to have never aged, staying forever in his prime. With a face and body like his, who wouldn't want a taste? Unfortunately, the ones who did shoot their shots were rejected in the most humbling way possible. They wouldn't even disclose it due to embarrassment. How this man came to be is still a mystery to the public. Not even people who work close to him can discover his origins. He is the one whom citizens claim to possess abilities one couldn't explain. Due to all the reasons stated above, the people tend to believe in whatever he says. Whatever the judge says, goes around here.

And there he is, right before your very eyes with court ending very soon you can assume. His expression is as calm as can be. Even when a serial killer such as yourself stands infront of him. His demanding presence commanding everyone to pay attention as the trial proceeds. Honestly, you should've been thrown in jail at this point, you've admitted to the crime already, what is the point of this trial?

"Mr [L. Name], is it true you commited these acts of manslaughter?", he turns his head towards you, gazing into your soul almost. You look up at him, gazing back with uncaring and bored eyes, "yes", a simple and clear answer. The entire courtroom is silent, the air is tense. You can feel eyes burning into your back, the cries of your victims' relatives satisfy you enough for you to let a fleeting smile spread on your face, disgusting everyone and anyone who notices. "Before we conclude this trial, the court will hear from the victims' families. Please step forward now if you have anything you would like to say to the defendant.", as the judge says this, many, many people came to the stance to have a word or two. Despite all this, his gaze settled on you, never leaving your figure.

You look at the family member infront of you. The sister of the first victim you had took the life of. You can't be bothered to remember his name though. "You fucking monster, how could you even do that to anyone let alone MULTIPLE PEOPLE!?", her tears eventually caught up with her, hiccuping as she stutters on her next few words which you drown out with thoughts of what to have for your first meal in prison. Not a single bone in your body feels guilty for the crimes you have commited. For the pain you have caused your victims' families.

With nine of the ten family members having said what they wanted and you drowning them out, it was time for the last one. This particular guy you can recall, Jason Williams, the brother of the victim you had dated. In the middle of his heartbreaking speech, he came closer to you and slapped you real hard. Your whole head turned 45° degrees due to the impact on your cheek. You look back with a hand on your cheek, amused almost. "Couldn't even hold back, no wonder your sister hated you", your expression showed no remorse, almost mocking him in a sense, which tipped him off even more. Fortunately for you, before he could do anything more physical, the judge butted in on the whole 'fight'. "Order in the court!", his deep and commanding voice caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity. He continues his command, "Quin, please remove the parties involved and restore order in the courtroom", Quin, the bailiff, immediately goes to de-escalate the situation by asking Jason to step back and that justice would be served. With a final glare, Jason steps back, not wanting to look at you anymore.

With everything out of the way, you glance back at the judge who seems to still be looking at you. "We will take a break to allow all parties to collect themselves before the sentencing. Court will pick up where we left in 20 minutes." And with those words, the audience and prosecution walked out of the room, including you who was escorted out by several guards to a secure room to ensure you wouldn't escape.

The room itself is rather simple and basic. Nothing out of the ordinary really. An air vent, an ac, thick walls and a sofa. At least it's comfortable.

Just 5 minutes into your relaxing, you hear a knock on the door. You don't get up as it's pointless seeing how they've locked it from the outside. You merely open your eyes and await whoever's beyond the door to come in. The moment the door opens, you are surprised to see an important figure walk in. "Oh? Lord, uh...", you try to recall his name, but to no avail, you've never cared to remember names other than your own. "Liu Zihao", "huh?", you raise an eyebrow at the sudden sound, "my name", he looks down at your laying body. Something in you decided it's best for you to sit up instead of laying down. Getting up from your comfortable position, you cross your legs and arms. "So what are you here for? To cuss me out like all the others?", you ask, not even sparing him a glance, even yawning a bit and closing your eyes in hopes he'd go away soon. Without saying another word, he gets closer to you. When you reopen your eyes, he's right in front of you. You get a bit jumpy and try to throw a fist at him, which he catches with ease.

Your fingers are eventually intertwined with his as he presses down one hand on the cushion right next to you. Your expression is conflicted. Your fight or flight insticts have kicked in, yet you almost tremble at his presence. You don't know what it is about him that makes you almost tremble. "Hm", he lets out a hum of curiosity and lets go of your hand, turning his heels and walking out the simple room. Leaving you in the room all alone once more as the door lock clicked.

"What the fuck was that for", you ask to nobody in particular seeing as you're alone. You look at your palm which had touched his a moment ago, finding nothing out of the ordinary despite a strange sensation enveloping it earlier on. Not thinking much of it, you plop back to your lazy laying position you were in before and doze off for a few minutes before being roughly woken up and taken to court once more.

"Ahem, Court is back in session. We will now proceed with the final verdict.", judge Liu announces to everyone as they hold hands with one another, having hope that justice would be served and you'd finally be out of the streets where you could potentially spot another target. You are told to rise from your hard seat. "After careful consideration of the evidence and arguments presented to the court, I hereby declare that the defendant, Mr [Name] [L. Name], is found guilty of the charges brought against him.", with that sentencing, you weren't surprised at all. You admitted to everything, and there was sufficient proof once you pointed them out. But of course, Zihao still had to continue his obligatory speech. "The crimes you have committed warrant a punishment which has never been given to a criminal such as yourself ever before.", this got you intrigued. You were sure you'd face the death penalty or even life in prison, but now that the judge has said those words, your mind begins to race through countless possibilities.

"Therefore, [Name] [L. Name] shall be personally punished and re-educated under my direct supervision."

What.

What did he just say?

You could hear for a split second the audience behind you start to whisper amongst each other but those are drowned out by your thoughts of confusion and shock. What did he mean by that? What could he want to do with you? He's unpredictable. There'd be no way anyone would agree with him—

"Court is adjurned.", Zihao stands up, indicating the session has ended. He moves his attention to the bailiff, "please escort [Name] [L. Name] to my headquarters.", Quin nods in obedience as he strode towards your still shocked and confused state. "Do not resist.", he lets out a warning and takes you to the judge's headquarters. You can hear the audience and victims' families cheer as justice has been served. Your punishment shall be served by the one and only judge, making this all the more exciting. What judge Liu says, goes.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

All you remember is being escorted into a special carriage with black curtains. As the carriage carried on, you couldn't do anything, not even looking out the windows due to the curtains. Though, you did feel the road being very bumpy. It almost felt like hours before you finally arrive at the judge's headquarters.

When you first step through the doors, you take note of the high ceilings and extravagant interior. You walk further into the manor-like building, noticing even more details along the way. The walls seemed to have been carved as if this was once a victorian era castle. It looked very clean. upon closer inspection, you notice symbols of which you don't recognize. The shape resembled one of a dragon. You paid it no attention. When you turn to your left, your eyes lay on a pair of stairs which seemed as if they reached heavens due to the height of it. The railings are golden, if you squint a little, they had an effect which made it seem as if they're glowing.

You don't even notice the bailiff leaving until you heard the tall doors slam shut. You quickly look behind as it startled you. Why would he even leave you alone, that didnt make sense.

After a few moments of pondering whether to escape immediately or continue your exploration, you decide to ascend the almost never ending stairs to the top floor. There, you see that the top floor is a whole room itself. There are no doors to open, just an untouched bedroom which could honestly be called a treasure room at the same time. The amount of shiny things you could name were almost endless. Despite the whole thing looking a bit untouched, you could tell someone has taken care of it or at the very least, tried to. The desk and books are collecting dust but at least the sheets are clean. Taking another step forward, you examine the royalty-like room. There's a chandelier placed in the middle of the room. It hangs over you, something about it feel off. Maybe it's the fact it looks so much like a glowing purple bubble floating in the air. Maybe your eyesight's gotten worse? Though, you sure do notice the tall windows.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a box that caught your eye. You walk towards the box, which sits on top of the desk. Lifting it with your two hands, you blow off some of the dust. It wasn't locked, thankfully. You take a peak inside and see... a collar of some kind. A collar made out of what seems to be black leather with precious amethysts embedded into the leather itself, along with some chains drooping around it. You looked at it and thought about one thing. This thing could fetch you a pretty penny or two. Deciding on selling it the moment you get out of this fancy manor, you reach into the box and grab it using one hand. "That idiotic judge, leaving me all alone here", not only would he be blamed for letting a serial killer escape, but he would also lose a precious gem adorned collar. Within a blink of an eye, you felt something placing itself around your neck. Wait...where did the collar go!?

You panic and look in the mirror to see said collar somehow clasped on your neck. "Fuck fuck what is this shit!?", you start to cuss out of fear. You'd never been scared by anything but this....this is different. There must be some magic or paranormal activity for this to even happen. How did it teleport from your hand to your neck, that doesn't make sense!

You try to pry it off your neck but to no avail, it was tight around your neck. It wouldn't let go of you. Not now that you've accepted being its owner's mate. Your gut is screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. With the collar unable to be loose, you focus on escaping first. "Fuck", you try to break the windows to escape as you usually do but stop to think. You're very high above ground at this moment, if you jump off from this height, you'd end up dead or with broken bones which you don't feel like dealing with. The only decision you had left was to go back downstairs and to hopefully be able to escape through the entrance or a back door before Zihao arrives. Sprinting like your life depends on it, you finally arrive at the entrance of the manor. You push it but it doesn't budge. At that moment, you hear an "ahem" coming from behind you. Your whole body freezes, not daring to even look back. You recognize the voice as their footsteps get closer to you until you felt their chest press against your back. Their hands trailing your body. Their hands settling to grip your waist in place. "I see you've accepted my gift", you could even imagine the person to be smiling as they say this.

Their left hand grabs your chin to face them. You weren't surprised to see the judge. What shocked you was the fact he looked like a predator who just found its prey. His pupils looked like a..serpent's..? Not only that, you could see his eye color changing and glowing a bright purple. You try to pull your head back in order not to face his predatory gaze, but his hand stops you. He has a strong grip on your chin, preventing you from looking away. Even though your whole body is almost trembling with fear, you manage to ask, "w-what to do you...want...", he tilts his head a bit, as if he himself is confused. "You're now my mate, I can do whatever I please with you, can't I?", he states as if it's the most obvious thing ever, making you even more nervous. You try your best to stay calm, but how could you? Why did he even use the term 'mate'...

"What m-mate? I'm...nothing of the sorts, let go!", you thrash in his hold, trying your hardest and using all your strength to break free which eventually, you reach your goal. "F-fuck, crazy bastard!", your words spill out as you stumble back, trying to catch the breath you'd been unconsciously holding while in his strong grip. He only stared at you, you could see clearly now that he isn't human, there's no way he could be one. With the black to purple gradient horns ontop his head. Heck, you even see a long tail behind him. Your fight or flight immediately activated as you tried your best to get out of there. You've already established that 1. This man's grip is strong and that 2. He isn't human. There's no way you'd be able to beat him in a fight. You try to reach the front door. You're just a few inches away before he pulls you back to him, this time, your whole body is facing his. "Don't run", is all he says, you look at him as if he's said something crazy, "don't run?? Fuck you, let go of me right now", despite this man being easily 6'5 and intimidating as fuck, you manage to overcome your fear and speak your mind.

"I've finally found you after years of being in the mortal realm, stay with me, my mate", he says as he gently grabs your hand to touch his cheek. Whatever he said made you even more confused, is this all a dream? No way any of this is real. "What are you on..!?", you question but honestly didn't want to know the answer. All you want and nerd at this moment is to be able to escape his grasp as this time, it seems more secure. Without even answering, the serpent-like man whisked you up into his arms, carrying you as if you were light as feather. Even when you thrash on and on, it's as if he doesn't feel your weight at all.

Despite voicing out and even using action to show your unwillingness, he doesn't stop and continues to make the journey up the stairs with you in his arms. It doesn't take long until the both of you reach the top floor.

He proceeds to throw you on the bed as gently as someone could be. Before you could get up and even process what had happened, you're pinned down to the bed by Zihao. "Hey, hey Lord Liu–", just as you're about to protest once more, you're silenced by Zihao's lips shutting you up. At first, it was just smashing your lips together, but you knew Zihao wanted more than that. He tries to get you to slip up and open your mouth, but you don't let him. You try your best to keep your lips sealed. This proves to be even more difficult the moment his hand trails down your tummy and stops at your pants. With just a touch, your pants are suddenly discarded of along with your underwear. "Wh–", you made a mistake. The moment you had realized you accidentally left an opening for him, it was too late. His tongue slides itself into your open mouth. You have no way of closing it now. What's weird is that you could almost feel his tongue down your throat, "a-aufh!??!...", the sudden feeling shocks you yet you couldn't say anything about it so all you could think to do was try to push him off of you.

Using all your strength, you manage to push him off. It was weird seeing how you couldn't push him off earlier on. You wipe your lips, which had his saliva and your own drool still covering it. You couldn't deny that he's an amazing kisser and the way he explored your mouth did turn you on a bit but you're as scared as ever with him not being human and calling you his 'mate'. At this point, he's almost straddling you in a way. He licks his lips, and that was when you saw his long tongue. It's split in the very middle, making him look even more serpent-like. With his weight on you, you couldn't get up and sprint down the stairs and out the door like you wanted. Instead, you tried to talk him out of whatever he was about to do. "Judge Liu, why in the world would a judge want to do this with a criminal..!?", you catch your breath while you're trying to persuade him, well, more of asking now that you think about it. This obviously doesn't work. He's already decided on you as his. A simple question of why he's doing what he is right now is futile. "This is your sentencing, I'm merely carrying out my duty", after he says this, he loosens his tie and discards it on the ground next to the bed. "Having you in front of me is...exhilarating", his eyes are filled with so much lust and love while looking at your fearful figure pinned to the bed he's always wanted you to be on. "Consider this as discipline for the crimes you've commited", with just a snap of his fingers, your arms are suddenly bound above your head. When you take a look, you can see a seal of some kind hovering over your hands, preventing any movement.

With every touch of his on your skin, you felt pleasure even if you didn't want to admit to it. His hands trailing up and down your body, from your neck until your crotch. It was as if he's exploring his new treasure. "That is unless you desire the death penalty?", you shake your head as a 'no'. This definitely is better than the death penalty but you still have questions. One of them being what kind of nonsense was he even spouting? Some shit about being his 'mate' or whatnot. While infront of you, Zihao unzips his pants. "What the fuck!?", you couldn't believe what you were seeing and involuntary let out a scream of confusion as what you saw wasn't just a cock, he had two. "Hm?", he glances up at you once more, confused as to why you let out such a noise. You could only stare with your eyes wide open. As he followed your gaze, he noticed what you were staring at, "ah, it hadn't crossed my mind..you mortals aren't usually this size", though he wasn't wrong, you were talking about how he has two instead of one. "I meant you having two...", you refused to continue your sentence having already eluded to the fact he has two of which you and many others only have one of.. Fortunately, he already knows what you were trying to point out, "there shouldn't be an issue regarding them, you'll be able to take them fairly well without difficulty", this doesn't convince you, not at all. Looking at the length and width, you think you'll die if you try to fit both in you.

Fortunately for you, he didn't put it in immediately. He, at the very least, has the decency to prep you beforehand. As he was about to put two fingers in your mouth, you close it immediately. This ends up with his fingers on your lips instead. It's clear what he wants you to do but you refuse. "Open up", he demands. You aren't just going to let him put his fingers in your mouth. If you do, your ego wouldn't ever recover from it. You shook your head no as an answer seeing how you can't really open your mouth. His lips twitch ever so slightly. "You've been given mercy by me and yet you're still a brat?", he asks, eyes piercing yours. While that is technically true, you'd never thought this 'mercy' of his would get you into this kind of situation. Reluctantly, you open your mouth, leaving a small gap between your bottom and upper lip. It's big enough for him to shove both fingers into your mouth. He looks at you expectantly. You knew what he wanted so you slowly sucked and licked his fingers. His fingers eventually got deeper into your mouth, almost reaching your throat due to how long they are. You almost choke on them. His eyes scan your face, that adorable expression you're making is turning him on a bit more by the second. Before long, he removes his fingers from your mouth. Letting you catch your breath a bit.

Although, that didnt last long as he pressed his two fingers on your hole. "Don't take it that far! I'm a man—", God, how many times have you been interrupted by him? You can't remember and you simply don't want to. His long and slender fingers pushed their way into your tight hole while you could only close your eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. Of course just closing your eyes can't solve everything. You still felt this fingers push and twist inside of you in search of something in particular. You let out breathy and quiet moans until his fingers finally found what they were looking for. Your sweet spot. "Ahgh..!", a louder moan came out of your mouth as a response to the sudden pleasureful feeling. When you open your eyes, you could see Zihao look at you with hungry eyes. He continues to stretch your hole for the next 2 minutes. All the while you closed your eyes. "If this is already making you feel full, I fear my cock will be too much for you to handle", just then, he removes his fingers from your hole.

The sudden feeling of emptiness hits you so you open your eyes to look at what he's doing. Without warning, he takes one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, leaving an easier access for him. Using his other hand, he places a firm grip on your waist, "h-hey now—", you couldn't say anything once had plunged one of his cocks inside of you. It wasn't even all the way yet but it had you arch your back, widen your eyes and mouth. You swore some tears even came out. "A-AaAgh..!", was the only noise you could let out. A mix of pleasure, pain and shock. Zihao lets out a groan of pleasure as he finally enters your hole. Though, he longed to be all the way in you and so he didn't waste anytime, thrusting all the way in this time. You let out a loud moan, almost like a scream of a moan. "Hah...you take me in so well", you couldn't even cover your face with your hands due to them being bound together. It's humiliating even if nobody's here to see. Having someone dominate you when you're a serial killer hurts your pride and ego. You look at him with a gaze which to you, conveys hatred yet pleasure. This only turns him on even more. "My mate...I've been craving for this", the second he finishes his sentence, he pulls up just until his tip is in before slamming his hips forward once more. Without anything to bite on to conceal your voice, you bite your lip until it starts to bleed. His thrusts get rougher and faster by the second. He groans and moans as he pounds your cute hole, all he wants is to fill you up with his seed. It's his natural instict afterall.

You were starting to manage the unexplainable feeling of his big cock stretching and pounding your hole when all of a sudden, he hits your sweet spot once more. Your voice might be raspy by tomorrow if you keep scream moaning all throughout tonight. You hoped it wouldn't last that long though. You wanted so badly to cling onto something or someone, to dig your fingerd into the sheets or Zihao's back but the seal prevented you. With the amount of stimulation you've been getting, you can feel yourself about to cum. You moan loudly once more as cum splurted out of your cock, coating your stomach with the fluid. This doesn't stop Zihao from thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. He's chasing his own climax.

Having just came, you're extra sensitive to his attacks. You could feel every inch of him enter. "Agh...take it all inside", Zihao groans as he can feel himself reach his limit after a few more minutes.

For the first time in the 7 minutes, he stops to catch his breath. You also take this opportunity to pant and try to grasp what had just happened. To your surprise, Zihao had broken off the seal that was bounding your two hands. You didn't have the strength to question it, you only put your hands back down, relaxing them as they had gotten quite sore.

Not even 3 minutes pass and you noticed something rubbing against your already filled hole. "W-what are you doing now..?", you question as you saw him bringing his second cock near your entrance, "you won't be able to conceive my kids with just one round", he's forcibly pushing his cock in your stuffed hole as he says this. You could only brace for impact as you gripped the bedsheets beside you. Not long after, you feel the head of his second cock pushing in. The pain is noticeable, you try to suppress it as best as you can to get through. Fortunately for you, his cocks have a sort of natural lube. Not only does it reduce the pain of the receiver, it also helps slide it in smoother.

"My love, wrap your hands around me instead", the way he said it in such a gentle and soft way made you give in. For the first time in your criminal life, you're holding and at the same time, being held by a male being.

Your thoughts are interrupted for the 2nd and probably not the last time by Zihao's dick entering you. You look down to see your stomach has a very visible bulge. When Zihao goes to press on your stomach, you moan out. "Seems you're very sensitive, you'll bring wonderful offsprings", he smiles. Before you could even question it, he starts to pound you again but this time with both his cocks deep inside your poor stretched out hole. Some of his cum even dripped out your hole due to how fiercely and deep he thrusted. Your brain is fogged due to being so full. Your nails dig themselves into his still clothed back, nearly tearing his expensive leather. He wouldn't mind if you did at all. He loves the way you're clinging onto him with your arms around him. "Hah...agh", he lets out a string of groans as he hits your prostate each time he thrusts back in. You could only writhe in the pleasure, not being able to conceal your voice anymore as you moan louder than before. If some passersby came along, they'd hear your moans and the sound of skin against skin. With Zihao's cum already inside, there's noticeable squelching noises each time he pounds your ass.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Even after having you've came five more times, Zihao shows no sign of stopping. He's only came about twice you presume, not being able to recall much. Both your bodies sweaty and sticky. Your voice has gotten hoarse. You can barely think with so much cock inside you. Your lewd sounds and expressions only fuels Zihao's urge to fuck you even dumber. It's almost as if his hips are unstoppable. By now, his clothes and yours are already discarded on the ground next to the bed. This lets your nails dig into his bare back, leaving scratch marks as gold liquid, which someone can only assume to be blood, drip out of the scars. Zihao doesn't react at all despite how painful the scratches look. You feel as if you're about to die from overstimulation, or at the very least, pass out soon enough. You feel a sense of relief once Zihao finally came in you and stopped for a moment, letting you rest. "H-hah...ah..", you look at the ceiling, your hands no longer wrapped around Zihao. Instead, they're sprawled out on the bed as you pant, out of breath. "You're my mate and I'll make sure everyone knows that", you could hear Zihao say. Out of curiosity and a tint of fear, you look at him. He proceeds to trail his finger around your lower tummy, using some sort of magic? Power? You don't know, you can see his hand having a purple glow to it before you suddenly experience intense pleasure all over your body. You look down and see a symbol on your body. Before you could even say anything, you're roughly lifted up into his lap. This sudden action shocks you as he's looking up at your cute face.

"This is my mark on you, all mortal and immortal alike shall know to stay away fron you", he says with a fierce voice, proud of his mark on your skin and then points at the symbol, almost poking your skin. "Claim...? What do you mea—", just as you are about to finish your sentence, he thrusts upwards, going balls deep in you. You end up jolting for a moment with your eyes wide. "My claim in you, you're mine, no one else's." With your body now weak and wanting him to fuck you senseless, you rest your head on his shoulder, your face almost smushed into his chest. Wanting him to do all the job for you. He finds this reaction to his mark very amusing and continues to bounce you up and down on his cocks. His thrusts are relentless, making you close your eyes. You bite his collarbone, trying to suppress the pain however you could. Even when you're distracted, you feel something slithering up your leg. When you open your eyes and put your chin over Zihao's shoulder, you see his long scaly tail wrap itself around your leg. Despite the sight being able to freak anyone out, it treats your leg with gentility, not ever squeezing too tight. Unfortunately, your cock filled mind's too foggy to even register it's Zihao's tail.

You don't even notice him cumming inside you. It's only when he stops do you realize. You're almost about to pass out, how long will your 'punishment' last..? "Z-Zihao....I can't take anymore...", you huff out, panting. He, on the other hand, only smirked, "the night is still young, you're my mate for a reason, are you not?", you wish you had never committed those crimes.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Your memory of last night is quite hazy. You barely remember what happened after the 8th or maybe 10th round, you can't even recount. Zihao's inhuman stamina lasted all night long. When you awoke, it was already noon, long past when you're usually awake. Instead of finding yourself alone in your own bed, you turn to the side to be face to face with the dragon's peaceful face. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his shut eyes. It's a completely different view compared to the night before. You could barely move anything. With the bruises all over your body, people would have thought you got into a fight if it weren't for the hickeys on every part of your body. Your neck, your chest, your thights, everywhere. You stared at the one who caused these on your body. Wondering what to do with this whole thing.

"What happened last night...", you question yourself quietly, trying not to awaken the man infront of you. You try to recall the best you can about last night. "Something about mate and..", you look at him to confirm your suspicions. Purple horns, a long scaly tail and serpent eyes from which you still remember due to how intimidating they were last night. Yep. He truly is a dragon. The one you've heard about ever since you were a baby. All your life, you thought all those stories were just crazy talk from old folks. How wrong you were.

Though, even with this being explained, you are still confused about how Zihao is able to have a human form. Not to mention what he meant as being 'his mate' and laying his 'claim' on you. When you go to check your tummy, you can still see the symbol clear as day. The shape is peculiar. The main shape is a circle with a diamond shape inside of it. In the very middle, there is almost a vine-shaped line which stretches out horizontally. The color is an unmistakable purple.

While you're lost in your own thoughts, you fail to notice Zihao's eyes opening slowly. One look at his eyes and you'd wonder why hadn't you suspected him of being non-human earlier. "My dear [Name]?", he calls out for you with a gentle voice, snapping you out of your train of thought. His tail wrapping around your leg once more. "W-wha, wait", caught off guard, you mess up your words. He throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer than before. With his grip being so strong and you being bruised up, you can't really escape this. It's your fate now and whether you like it or not, you have to accept it.

"Your punishment isn't over yet. Did you think one night would compensate the lives you took?", he states the very much obvious thing to him. You look at him with a worried look. What you did was wrong, sure but isn't this too excessive...? Being personally fucked dumb by the Judge every single night without a chance of escaping. God your pride and ego...you're not even sure if they survived last night, let alone several more nights. With a hesitant tone, you ask, "how much longer then?", which he answers without skipping a beat, "If I'm not wrong, it'll take about 7,783,457 more years", "WHAT!? Are you forgetting I'm a human? My life span's like 60 more years if I'm lucky, I'll die long before then", you yell at his outrageous words, trying to get up but eventually being pushed nack down. He chuckles, finding your reaction very amusing. "Don't fret, you're now the dragon's mate, you will live for as long as I do.", there he goes again about you being his mate. "And..how long is that exactly..", Zihao smiles sweetly, "we have the rest of eternity for us", you can almost see his face glowing as these words come out his mouth.

"Hold on, I have loads of other questions. What did you mean by having your kids??? On top of being human, I'm a human MALE", you emphasize the male part. It's common knowledge that males don't have wombs and, therefore, can not get impregnated. Perhaps it was just dirty talk? "Oh, of course you can, see this? It's proof you can", he rubs your tummy once more, gesturing at the mark he had left last night. You're flustered by his choice of words and instinctually lift your hand up to hit him for even saying such things, only to be stop in your tracks once more. "My dear, don't be like that", his expression is smug. He knew you were going to hit him sooner or later. "I guess I better make sure you learn your lesson instead of spoiling you."

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This man has my heart rn 😍☝️ I have so many ideas for him in the future.

Speaking of ideas, my next oc is an middle aged man/dilf 😋