★ the dilf zone ★

-

“Michael,” you panted, fingers tightening on his chest, you leaned your body reaching for something. 

“What’re you doing, baby?” Michael watched, as best as he could as he saw you grab your phone. 

“Memento,” you clenched, as you shakily opened up your camera. Focusing as best you could while swivelling your hips, you focused on his chest, your hand in the frame softly clutching his stomach. 

Grinning when he realised you were doing, you aimed your photo up, trying to capture the look on his face. Balancing yourself, you placed your other hand on his face, softly caressing his face, moaning lowly when he began kissing up your hand. Taking a couple of photos, you threw your phone somewhere on the bed and planted your hands on his chest. 

“You’re dirty,” he grinned as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you down flush to his chest. Placing his feet on the mattress, he thrusted up earning a particularly loud moan out of you. “That’s it, baby.” 

Feeling your panting on his neck, Michael moved his lips until he could reach you. Messily placing his tongue in your mouth, he could feel the combination of your drool slowly slithering down his neck. 

He could feel you getting close, your walls clenching around his cock and your mouth falling from his, his name coming out in pants. Rolling your hips, you dragged your nails down Michael’s chest, squeezing until your felt release come. 

“Fuck, I love you,” Michael grunted into your ear. “Love you, love your fucking pussy, love my girl,” he choked out the praises as he finished in you. Wrapping you in his embrace tighter, you couldn’t help but whimper as you felt his cum flood inside your pussy. 

“You okay?” He gently moved the hair stuck to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Can I see?” Michael kissed your cheek as you laid on his chest, the heat and sweat a bit uncomfortable but you both couldn’t bear to leave each other. 

Finding your phone, you accessed your photos, tapping on the first one. It was blurry, as you expected. You could barely make out that there was a person in the photo. Frowning, you swiped to the next photo which was better. 

“Look at that,” you said in appreciation, eyes roaming the photo, landing on the glisten of his chest and soft swell of his stomach. “Fuck, Michael, you’re beautiful.” 

You turned your phone to show the man below you, watching as a bashful flush creeped up to his cheeks. 

“Are you going to be pissed if I have this as my background?”

Ever since then Michael’s been quite a bit obsessed with the thought of taking photos of the two of you together. But he was always too enthralled with whatever you were doing that he forgets to pick up his phone and take a photo. 

The first one was an accident. 

It was an off day for Michael, you were both lazily laying on the couch. You turned to him, and you were a bit awestruck at just how handsome he was. Sure, he was just sitting on the couch, with his reading glasses on and wearing a t-shirt but you were sure that there wasn’t a man who was more handsome than Michael Robinavitch. 

Gazing downwards you bit your lip as you saw the grey sweats that he was wearing, and if you squinted your eyes right, you swear you could see a bulge. Fidgeting in your seat, you somehow managed to turn yourself on, sliding down to the ground, you placed yourself in front Michael. Placing your hands on his knees you slid your hands up until his waistband. 

Pawing at the band of his sweats, Michael looked down at you in amusement, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m bored,” you whined, as you began tugging down his pants. “And you look beautiful.” 

“Oh?” Michael leaned back, paper forgotten as he tossed it to the other side of the couch. You could see the cocky smirk on his face but beneath that the small red flush that your compliment brought on. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so handsome,” you nodded, tugging his waistband down. You watched as his cock came to view, half-hard but still always so impressive. Michael’s cock flopped to his left thigh as you continued to push his pants down. Peppering kisses from his knees to his inner thigh, you smirked as you saw his cock twitch and begin leaking. 

Placing one hand on one knee, you began leaving little bites, occasionally flicking your eyes to Michael whose chest was now heaving, his hands clenched on the cushions. Finally reaching your prize, you didn’t hesitate to start kissing the side of his cock with an open mouth, your tongue trailing the multiple veins. 

Kissing his tip, you looked back up at him. “So pretty,” tapping the head a few times on your tongue, you languidly licked him from base to tip. “Love you,” you muttered against his cock before parting your lips and taking him down your throat. Gagging as you pushed him down slowly, you felt his cock fully harden as you reached the back of your throat. 

Putting his hand on the back of your head, Michael watched as his length disappeared in your mouth, your nose brushing against his pubic hair before going back up, sucking in your cheeks when you hit his tip. Then repeating the actions, each time more hurried than the last. He felt his balls tighten and willed himself to just hold out a little bit longer. 

Wrapping his hands around your hair, Michael regretfully pulled you away from his cock, a sympathetic smile on his face as he heard your whine. “Beautiful,” Michael praised as he saw you; face flushed, teary eyes and a mixture of his precum and your saliva. Caressing your cheek, you automatically leaned into his touch, a soft and adoring look on your face. 

Feeling around for his phone, Michael shakily opened the camera. You moved slightly, trying to see what he was doing, “Stay still, baby,” Michael warned, pulling your hair a bit. “Look at me,” aiming the camera, you smiled as you grasped his cock. 

Showing off to the camera, you placed the head of his cock back on your tongue, a cheeky grin on your face as you heard the shutter. 

“Wait,” Michael rasped, his hands gently tugging on your hair. “Can you hold my cock against your face?” 

You chuckled fondly and followed his instructions. Placing his cock against the side of your face, you smiled dazedly at the camera. Taking multiple photos, Michael began to tremble as you tightened your grip and began stroking him. “Fuck,” he breathed out, “so beautiful.” 

“Show me how to print it out later,” Michael groaned as he felt you swallow around him. At his statement you couldn’t help chuckle around his cock. “Shit, you okay?” 

Pulling away from him, “You’re such an old man.” 

“Well this old man just has a photo of you with his cock on his phone,” Michael twisted his phone before throwing it somewhere on the couch. “Now come on, baby, come up, want to cum in your pussy.” 

You rolled your eyes but nonetheless stood up and placed yourself on his lap. “Such a romantic.” 

The second was more intentional. Michael felt insatiable that night, asking you if he could just use you, and of course you said yes. 

“Best girl,” Michael thrusted, “best fucking pussy,” this time he manhandled your legs so they were over his shoulders. Leaning over you, you groaned at the full weight on him on top of your body, “Fucking love you,” he panted against your ear, biting across your jaw until he placed an open mouth kiss to your lips. 

Wrapping your legs around him, you felt each and every thrust of his cock, your walls tightening with each movement. Slackjawed, all you could do was run your nails down his back, clenching when you heard Michael hiss above you. Nipping your lips, Michael moved down your neck before licking back up to your mouth. 

Moving his hand to feel around for his phone, Michael didn’t relent in his frantic thrust, his other hand reaching for his phone. Quickly opening it, he leaned back and you whined at the loss of his weight. Angling his phone down, he couldn’t help but wrap one hand around your neck, gently closing his grip.

“Stay,” and as he began taking photos, his hand drifted down, splaying it across your lower stomach. There was something about watching you through your phone that got Michael heated more than usual. Maybe it was the vulnerability, the trust that you give him. 

Leaning back, he felt you slip your legs down, wincing as it reached his thighs. “Stay still, sweetheart,” pulling back a bit, he aimed the photo again. This time his cock in frame, zooming in he couldn’t help but buck his hips, entranced in the way your pussy engulfed him. Tossing his phone by your side, Michael slammed back in, causing you to arch your back, your tits practically jumping in his face. 

He increased his pace, his forearms by your neck, mouth on yours. “Gonna cum baby,” he warned against your mouth. 

“Inside,” you pleaded, tightening your legs around him. “Please, Michael, fill me up.”

“You first,” reaching down, he balanced on one forearm, one hand reaching to your clit to rub tight little circles, and his mouth finding home on your neck. Feeling him bite down where your neck meets your shoulder, Michael groaned as he felt your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing once, he felt you pulse your hips as his name came out as a silent scream. 

Cursing Michael chased his release, his hips losing any rhythm he had. Knowing that he was closed, you clenched as hard as you could, Michael bit down harder and with one last muffled grunt of your name, you felt him empty inside of you. 

Hissing as he removed himself, Michael reached to grab his phone. Aiming it down to your leaking cunt, he snapped a couple of photos. Separating your folds with his fingers, he bit his lip as he saw you clench and pushed out some of his cum. Tutting as he saw some of his release land on the bed, he gave your pussy one last gentle kiss and threw his phone somewhere on the bed. 

Laying on top of you, Michael lazily kissed up and down your neck, while you played with the hairs on the base of his neck. Letting out a contended sigh, you felt your heartbeat begin to settle. 

“Next time, film yourself cumming side of me.” 

-

A particularly loud bang outside of the bathroom brought Michael out of his trance. He looked down, cock in his hand and your photo in the other. Gritting his teeth, he knew that he couldn’t go out with this. Stroking faster, tightening his fist - trying to recreate your wet heat (but failing), Michael thought about you; the way you felt, the sounds that you made. Grunting your name, he threw his head back, his hand squeezing the base of his cock as he pointed his cum to the toilet. 

Panting he looked down at his hand and felt a bit of shame run through his veins. But as he looked at what was on his other hand, he could feel the warm thrum up his spine. “Fuck baby, look at what you’ve done to me.”

Leaving the bathroom, he looked at Dana and mouthed ‘taking my five’, and stepped outside into the ambulance bay. Tapping your contact, he placed his phone against his ear. 

“Michael? You okay babe?” 

“Just missed you,” he silently murmured, leaning against the wall. 

“Michael Robinavitch, it’s currently eleven am and you’re jerking off?” You laughed breathily, and he could hear the creak in your chair as you sat back. 

He chuckled, feeling hot underneath his scrubs, “I just miss you,” he enunciated. “How the hell did you even get to that conclusion?” 

“You get sentimental after you cum, Michael,” you paused and he could practically imagine you connecting the dots. “Did you look at the photos again?” 

“They’re very good photos,” he responded instantly and you hummed. 

“I think they’re a bit outdated, though, don’t you think?” You teased. 

The thrum was back, eagerness filling every crevice of his bones. “What do you have planned, princess?” 

Smiling, “I’m thinking that you have two straight days off, and we’ll have plenty of time to update those photos,” you stated coyly. “I have some ideas, if you’re up for it, Robinavitch.” 

Michael groaned which caused you to chuckle, “I have eight more hours, you can’t do this,” running a hand down his face, he could feel the telltale sign of his blood rushing to his cock. 

“You’re the one who messaged me after you jerked off,” you scoffed. “You started it.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Well, I’m sorry for missing the love of my life.” 

All he got was a soft cooing noise from you, and a, “Uh-huh, sure. Now go save lives, doc, and when you get home we can replace those very well loved photos with new ones.” 

Michael couldn’t help the grin appear on his face, “You’re dirty.” 

“And you love me,” you teased, then in a more serious manner, “And I love you.” 

“I love you,” Michael replied instantly. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

he always offers to rub sunscreen on your back for you. he’s a doctor, he’s just worried about the risk of skin cancer—it’s definitely not just so he can feel your skin under his rough palms, feel how soft and smooth it is and imagine how you’d feel underneath him.

sometimes, when you know robby’s gone inside, you untie the delicate strings of your bikini and lay on your back, with your supple breasts and sweet pussy completely exposed to the sun to get an even tan.

and unbeknownst to you—you’re completely exposed to your stepdad too…

robby stands in his bedroom window watching you, he knows it’s wrong, he hadn’t even meant to look the first time it happened, he kind of just stumbled upon it as he passed.

he just couldn’t help but pull his cock out of his pants—his cock which was achingly hard—and he jerked himself off right there. his eyes trained on you as your tits glistened in the sun, your body so shiny from sweat and sunscreen.

robby stands there pumping his cock in his fist hard, imagining those perfect tits in his face as you rode him. thinking about how hot and sticky you’d be, how good you’d smell, how wet you’d be for him.

he often wondered what might happen if he went out there, what if he just sat beside you and started touching you? would you like it? would you lean into his touch? moan his name as his fingers worked your cunt?or would you punch him in the face and tell him to fuck off? strangely, he didn’t know which he’d like more.

the thought of him getting caught drove him wild. you calling him a pervert or a nasty old man turned him on just a little bit more than he thought actually fucking you might.

but either outcome would be heaven for him.

pseudo taglist ⋆˚꩜｡ @cod-guys-slvt @puppyboy-khali @gaultiano @robinavitchgf @popecodysgirl @cameronsbbg @mrs-depp @diilfluvrr @strangemar @quicksilver21 @di1fluvr @cerealov3r @strawberryemiry @robinaabb0t @scootlerdoodler @unicvnthlle @allthegoooooodfics @alphabetically-deranged @aerangi @glitter-abbot @httpfatherhowo @maystyles @vaelyrians @girljusttrying28 @wylde-goblin-girl @kissalready @rufles2 @everythingabby101 @miniswritinblog @mira-xx @batcat46 @girljusttrying28 @kitkatrina @joelmillerswifey @mitchielee @gramelda @notthatmultifandomwhore @prettyflowerlily @generation-zero @whimsyweepingwillow @bikinibottomspeach @oxythoughtin @lovergirlellie @eternalabbot @brasspistol @rcbinavitchslamb @popecodypilled @lambsfiction @agosrechimont @deardenniswhitaker @lavenderbugzzz (rest will be tagged in reblog)

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It's once they're in the car that Kyle realises that… they don't actually know where Ghost lives. Sure, Price has to know, but he's off himself, eyes blinking slowly every so often in the passenger seat. Kyle opens his mouth to ask Ghost himself, but ultimately shuts it back up when he sees how he's leaning on Johnny and babbling away, hands moving in front of him like he's telling an elaborate story only he is privy to. He turns to his captain, and tries his best to coax directions out of him despite his tired and slightly woozy state. Luckily, he succeeds! Driving to Ghost's house was utter hilarious chaos. Johnny starts singing at some point, Price joining in. Ghost is still muttering nonsense, all while swaying to the songs his teammates are singing. He groans every so often, like he's sick of whatever seems to be troubling him so much to talk non-stop about it. Kyle tries his best to drive straight and not laugh too much, and risk something happening to all of them. Arriving at Ghost's house is odd. They're in a place Kyle doesn't really know of, a nice cottage just far away into the countryside that there wouldn't be too much noise, but still within adequate travelling time, and most likely walking time as well if the small paths through the trees indicated anything for Kyle, to go back to the main city. Honestly, he didn't really think Ghost would live in a house like this, but then again, he doesn't know much of Ghost's life at all. Sure, he knows how Ghost takes his tea, a dash of milk and a single sugar cube, he knows how Ghost is on the field, quiet and deadly, and how he holds his gun with an air of boredom but with insane precision. Yet, he doesn't know if Ghost would have any decorations in his house, or if he'd have a nice house like this one at all. He doesn't know the breakfast he might prefer, nor the music he truly likes, or what he does in his free time. Seeing the house first, he thinks — and realises — that he doesn't really know Simon, at all. He makes a mental note to fix that, to try a bit harder to soften the man turned brute, to give him more shoulders to lean on when the world's too loud. The next thing Kyle notices, which makes him all the more confused, is that lights are on in the house. And he doubts Ghost would leave this amount of lights on for a pet if he had any, and he doubts Ghost would allow himself a pet if he was gone a lot of the time. He stops in front of the house, and hesitates a moment. He feels a part of himself doubting John, but he perseveres anyway. He could never afford to doubt his captain.

Soap and John keep on singing as the car stops and Kyle opens the door. He's able to haul the both of them out on his own, the action shaking them out of their musical trance. The three put all their effort into lifting the gruff brit out of the car, though not without the Scot's constant drunken giggles. Ghost seems as though he'd rather stay in the car than go to his presumed house. Kyle isn't able to tell why though, he still can't make out what Ghost could be saying. It's all muffled and mumbled nonsense, somehow more saddened than he had first been. They're able to make it to the door, though with much trouble. Kyle shushes Soap and John, and turns to Ghost to slowly speak.

"D'you have your keys, Ghost?" Simon tries to shimmy away from the hold he's in, but with very little force, almost like a petulant child. "Nooo, no, no, no… don't—" he hiccups slightly, "—don't wanna.. not 'ere— L'vies not 'ere.." Kyle's not sure what (or who) he's talking about, but he's sure something has to be here, considering certain rooms have lights on. Ghost seemed to have not taken notice of those yet, not that Kyle thought he would in his current state. Kyle sighs, he's too lazy to search Ghost, especially with how wiggly he's being, so he turns to the door, takes a breath in, and rings the doorbell, because there is no way someone isn't inside with that amount of lights on. Maybe Ghost had a roommate, made things cheaper for them.

A dog barks lightly, echoing slightly through the house. He hears something hit against what he guesses is furniture, hearing a faint "Slow down Maise!" through the door. The ruckus stops after the command, and the door opens.

"Hello? Can I help yous— oh," You begin before you fully take in what's behind the door. You notice Simon before anyone else. He's still trying to stumble out of the two other men. Your eyes then drift to Kyle, and you take in the full scene, with slight surprise. "Oh, hello."

"Hi, erm…" Kyle looks too nervous for a soldier, he's not sure what's gotten into him then. He clears his throat, and shoots a glance back at his teammates, then back at you. "Does Simon Riley live here?" You smile at him, and glance at Simon. "The big guy there?" You ask loud enough for Simon to potentially hear you, all while feigning clueless-ness. Simon's incoherent scrambling slows, and he starts to lean against Price by his side. He's slow to lift his head up at the familiar name, trying to figure out where it came from.

"Yeah..," Kyle responds sheepishly, a small chuckle leaving him as he awkwardly scratches his neck. "Yeah, he lives here," you smile, and look towards Simon. His head is lifted now, and he's looking in your direction, though he hasn't seemed to fully take you in yet. He's squinting. "Oh, grand. Could I ask who you are—" "L'vie!"

Simon shoots straight up from where he's leaning on John. He stumbles a bit from the speed, and immediately starts trying to make his way towards you despite his seeming inability to walk straight. He stumbles forward, bumping into Johnny on the way and into Kyle, who tries to stop him from falling. You're watching the scene go down with barely contained laughter. Simon stops only once he's in front of you, and he's leaning against the doorframe like he can't hold himself up (which he can't). His hands come up and cup your face, slightly mushing your cheeks together, and he presses a big wet kiss to your lips. You lightly and jokingly push his face away once he pulls away from you. "Beh! Simon, you taste like bourbon!" You laugh as you turn your head away from him, sticking your tongue out in fake disgust. He tries kissing you again, though you evade him, and he lets out a mumbled mix of a sort of whine and a groan as he shoves his face in the crook of your neck. "'s no' Simon… 's Si'… 's bi' guy…," he mumbles against your skin dramatically mournful, like you saying his full name instead of his nicknames was worse than any nightmare (which for him, it is). "Yeah, yeah, you're alrigh' big guy," you mumble to him as you press a small kiss to the side of his head, your hand coming up to gently run through his grown out buzz-cut. Kyle is stood a few steps away, staring at the both of you like a deer in headlights. He honestly doesn't know what he expected, if he really expected anything, but it certainly wasn't this. He's not making a sound at all, genuinely speechless. Johnny on the other hand, had it different. He gasps loud after it, like it took him a bit too long to realise with the alcohol in his system, and then, starts cheering. It snaps Kyle out of his trance, and makes John chuckle, trying to settle the Scot down despite his slightest woozy state. Kyle stares a bit longer before his mouth opens, but his words aren't too coherent either.

"Wha— Who— Huh?" He lets out a bit helplessly, looking between you holding Simon, to John whose trying to calm Johnny, and then back to you. You look like you're about to burst out laughing at the scene in front of you, but somehow you're holding it in quite well. Simon, then, stands back up next to you, of course not without stumbling (you try your best to keep him up despite his size), and holds you like you're a prize he's most proud of.

"'t's mah lovie!" He exclaims like a kid showing off a drawing. You laugh next to him. "I'm his partner," you clarify with a cheeky smile to Kyle. He blinks twice and nods slowly. He takes a minute of silence to gather his thoughts before opening his mouth. "Sorry, I'm err… a bit surprised," he says sheepishly again, still shocked at this new information. "We err… didn't really know." Awkwardness is oozing out of him like sap out of trees. "I'm aware," you laugh again and pat Simon on the arm. "He's been meaning to tell youse, but this meathead's been pushing it off. Youse should come for tea this week," You smile softly at him, talking in a way that wouldn't rush anyone, wouldn't disturb too much. You're sure it's a lot to take in for them, or at least the one most sober. John and Johnny have gone back to doing shenanigans that are fortunately not too disturbing.

Kyle nods dumbly. He looks between you and the two men behind him.

"Yeah… That'd be good," he looks back at you sheepishly. "Think I should get these two bellends back home." He chuckles and you join him. John and Johnny have started singing another drunk song, fortunately quieter than in the car. "Better do so. Send a message to Si when youse get home. Want youse safe enough to properly meet youse at least once," you smile, but he can tell there's underlying seriousness in your words. He nods and salutes you like you're his captain giving him orders. He turns to the two behind him, and tries to rally them up. "Right, up you go, get in the bloody car." They stumble to it, Johnny giggling like a madman, John following behind him. Kyle turns back to give you a nod and a wave, before getting in the car himself. You reciprocate, and turn to Simon to try and shove him through the door. "C'mon big guy, let's get you to bed, yeah?" Simon follows you, not without leaning on you with half his weight. He hums against your head as you walk to your bedroom. Unfortunately for you, it's not that easy to get him to bed, at least not in his current state. The moment you made near the bed, Simon's going down and he's taking you with him. He's laying on his back with you on top of him, his arms liked chains keeping you from moving. You yelp as you're pulled down, and Simon grins big.

"Hi," he lets out bashfully, starting up at your face with unfocused eyes. "Hello Si," you smile down at him, your hands coming up to gently push his hair away from his forehead, caressing it softly. "Thought you weren' gonna be 'ere tonigh'," he frowns then, a slight whine to his voice, "Sai' y'weren'." You'd told him a while back you weren't going to be home after he came back from this deployment, having to go visit some friends and stay with them to help them move cities. "'Know Si, took less time to move than they thought," you explain gently, moving your thumb so it could caress the skin between his eyebrows. His eyes flutter shut the the feeling, and he hums. "Wanted to surprise you," you say as you press a light kiss to his nose. You stay like that for a minute or so, before you try to move. "C'mon lovie, lets get you changed, yeah?" As you speak, Maisie, your german shepherd, comes to nudge his thigh, most likely wanting some scratches herself and to be able to go to sleep at the foot of your bed knowing the both of you are safe and sound asleep there. Simon groans a bit, and tightens his grip slightly. "If you get changed, we can lay properly in bed, and I'll give you a buncha kisses," you suggest, chuckling slightly at his insistence. Simon hums as if in deep and important contemplation before ultimately loosening his grip. You chuckle again, press a chaste kiss to his lips, and then got up. You make your way to your dressers, and take out a pair of his sleep joggers before making your way back to him.

"C'mon, up-up lovie," you murmur, and help him up the best you can. He does, and you help him out of his clothes with some difficulty and get him in his sleep joggers. You lead him to the bathroom best you can and get him to at least brush his teeth before leading him back to bed, and under the covers. "See? That was all quick, weren' it?" you mumble softly, carding your fingers through his short blond hair as you settle next to him, his arms around you once more. He groans and grumbles as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Maisie jumps on the bed and shoves at Simon a few times with her muzzle. Simon brings his hand out on instinct, and Maisie shoves her head into it, getting all the pets she wants until she's satisfied. You smile at the sight, and bring your hand out when Maisie makes her way towards you once she's had her fill of Simon. You've always loved this little tradition she'd started, always demanding pets before sleep, every night without fail. You press a small kiss to the top of her head with a loving "Nigh' Maise" before she settles comfortably in her own bed at the foot of yours. You lay down properly next to Simon again, and he's looking up at you now with half-lidded and unfocused eyes.

"Ah love y'u," he mumbles incoherently, but you understand him nonetheless. "I love you too, you dimwit," you chuckle, pressing two kisses to his forehead. "Hmmmm, ah'll marry y't'morro'," he add sleepily against your cheek, "Wanna marry y'now." You snort at his words, playing with his hair as you hum. "Y'will one day, big guy," you murmur, but your comment goes unnoticed as Simon starts to snore loud next to you. You laugh, and slot yourself against him like a matching puzzle piece.

The boys do come over that week for tea, not without Simon's light grumbling. You know he doesn't mind, because he doesn't try to stop it. He lets it happen, and you know he's having a good time by the glint in his eyes. He's got you, Maisie, the people he chooses to call his family, for now, he couldn't ask for more. Kyle loves the decorations you've got up, Johnny loves your cooking, and John can't seem to get up from the couch. You wouldn't ask for anyone better to surround your big guy.

heyyyyyy........... i've kinda dissapeared off the face of the earth when it came to writing, sorry chat..... school has been kicking my ass, graduation year is not for the weak. can't promise how soon i'll be back soooo uhh yeah! have the longest fic i've written in a while that i wrote in class and while i was supposed to be revising mueheheheehe thank youse for being here with me ‪‪❤︎‬ @sheepispink mueheheheehe here it is lovie ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ hope you like it hehehe