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m0uchie · 5 months ago

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.Where in which your parents are fighting, so your older step brother comes in to comfort you, yay!

Stepbro!Scara

stepcest smut

Implied mommy kink

A tiny bit rushed

By Rena||Shyent

He isn't quiet, and that, they both find to be a form of entertainment in of itself. Scaramouche near slams the door behind him with a pillow in tow underneath his arm, strutting towards the bed and throwing his pillow against the headboard.

They can clearly hear their mothers fighting outside.

"You didn't have to slam the door so hard," she feigns a frown.

"You don't care, and neither do they—look, you're smiling. Fucking frauds, the lot of you."

"You're really fucking over-dramatic, who shat in your bed sheets, kitty?"

"I can not express enough how disturbed I am by that nickname, can't you pick something else?" he sits down at the edge of her bed and pulls his phone from his pockets, scrolling through a series of playlists she'd made on it (without his permission, might he add) to choose from.

"Like what, Wanwan? What do you want me to call you, Wannie? Moo-moo? Mouchie? Scara-wawwie? Scawwie-wawwie-baby-sweetie?"

"I'll kill you," he threatens, clenching his phone and glaring daggers at her.

She giggles, shuffling to the side to accommodate him, nuzzling her cheek into her own cushion. She outstretches her hand to him and wiggles her fingers, urging him to join her.

"It's almost as if your main purpose is to piss me off."

"Or maybe I'm trying to comfort you?"

He scoffs, "I'm not the one who needs comforting here, you're shaking like a leaf."

"Now that's an over-exaggeration," she huffs.

But how can I not feel even just a little bit uncomfortable with what was happening outside? He could see the distress etched into her expression, practically read her mind. She was thinking, what can I do to fix this? How can I make this okay?

She knew that it shouldn't be, and that it isn't her responsibility to reconcile the conflicts between her parents, but it was difficult.

Scaramouche joins her on the bed and urges her to come closer, and she knew what it meant. She complies, appreciating his initiation, a distraction. Not the first, but one of many.

Leaning down above him, her palms clutch the sheets of the mattress as she kisses him; a lasting contact between her lips and his forehead. A soft hum, a tilt of her head and she kisses his neck up along the tender area, to his chin, his bone and the fat of his cheek before switching to the other side of his face.

It's a triumphant grin on his face, a smirk even, not a soft smile as she finds herself melting into the cushion of comfort he provided her. Though, do not underestimate how much of a serious matter this was to her, because it was. To her, it'd be some sort of moral failing if she'd found herself leaving even a single spot on his face without the reverence she knew it deserved.

She said it herself, when they'd allowed themselves to be honest with each other for the first time. How sometimes she'd find herself obsessing over him, how she'd dream of worshipping even the moles on his face, hands and neck. To be so close to the point of being able to feel her lashes tickling and fluttering against him. The dirt and the product on his face to brush and make friction against her skin and melding so that scent of him would never leave her body.

Her knee finds itself between his thighs next, his hands that were clamping on her sides were forced down against the bed, being entangled with her fingers instead. It was frustrating, Scaramouche found it, how she'd pepper kisses in every place but his lips. Frustrating how she'd kiss his chin once more before dragging her lips to the corner of her mouth, to the tip of his nose up along the bridge, before her lips remained unmoving from his forehead. Her nose brushes up along his bangs, paving a path to his hairline. She whispers something unintelligible against his hairline and buries her nose into his hair.

Gods, it seemed like the poor girl was was high. Shameless, like she couldn't get enough of it; blissful fervour. Hot breath against his brow as she breathed deeply and heavily his scent as if she was searching for something to distinguish in his fragrance. Had he been meaner, he would have called her a pervert. But Kindly, and even to himself, he'd settle for a dog instead. A puppy, even.

Meanwhile, he nibbles on her collarbone, licking and suckling the skin over the bone. One of Scaramouche's hands slips from her grasp and traces down her waist to her thigh before cupping her left ass-cheek and kneading the flesh.

"Can you hear me?" he asks, to which she nods. "Good, then from here on out, do nothing but praise me. Worship me, and tell me 'I know' and 'you're right', got it?"

Scaramouche didn't wait for her to answer, but he did wait for her response. The game was over, and now it was his turn to take over. She found herself sitting between his thighs, his feet crossed below her thighs with her knees pulled wide apart. He kisses her neck, occasionally sliding his tongue along the surface with a hand pulling her knee apart and the other in her panties, his index massaging her clit.

She couldn't risk it, the chances of her needy moans escaping the confines of this room, however, Scaramouche found amusement in this. He found it absolutely adorable, how cute, so cute, how she'd swallow her moans yet drool so shamelessly, so dumbly.

Good on the bastard.

"Your hand feels…" she swallows a high-pitched moan, "so good…it's good, you're so good."

He hums and sucks on a fold of skin, nibbling the area and urging her to continue, her praise stroking his ego and figuratively, his dick.

"How are your hand so soft—gods, yes, please? That motion's good," a breath shudders through her nose as he experimentally switches to massaging the sensitive bud in vertical motions. "That's perfect, okay? I promise you you're doing so well, don't stop please-"

Scaramouche's hand slides from her knee to to her lower-stomach, his hand now underneath the fabric of her shirt and rubbing his fingers into her womb.

"You know all of the right words"

He nudges aside the right side of his headphone cup from her ear, whispering, "You've been amazing for the past week, do you know that?".

He could hear the inquisition in the pitch of her groan.

"You are, you've been so productive and so good for the past weak…that's it, keep grinding against my fingers. If you hold up until I tell you to go ahead, I'll let you cum on my fingers. You'd like that, won't you? You adorable slut."

Scaramouche's breath shudders when he hears the squelching noises pussy squelching. He hadn't touched anywhere aside from her clit as yet and she was already so wet…what a sensitive thing. He cups her bare breast, pulling the fabric of her shirt over her tits and clamping the tissue.

"Such a pretty pair of tits, sweetheart. You just gonna let someone like me touch you like this? Not even gonna fight back?"

"Mm…?"

"Words, little sis," he flicks it and licks the shell of her ear before returning to massaging his index and now middle against her swollen, hardened clit, making her mewl softly.

"You know, I saw your results- don't look so scandalised, I'm not going to make fun of you this time."

She hated how condescending he sounded sometimes, because it was so fucking hot. But at the same time…

"It was—fuck, so bad…I did so bad."

He pinches her clit rather aggressively to remind her of his prior orders, and her eyes rolls back and shuts, a groan escaping her mouth. One that was a bit…too loud. Tears prick at her eyes.

She nearly finishes right there and her hand flies to her mouth, projecting her grunt outwards into her palm. He hears footsteps approaching the door and he squeezes her jaw tightly as he brings pulls his hand away, causing her to whine.

The door clicks, and after a moment, and their names are called.

"What is it?"

Ei doesn't even dignify him with a sigh, "I heard a something, are you two okay?"

He rolls his eyes, and while he's trying to negotiate with his mother, she puts her hand over Scaramouche's and presses it back down against his vagina, much to his amusement and arousal. When she realises that it wasn't doing much since he refused to further encourage it, she presses his palm against her clit instead and grinds against it. He can feel her licking the hand covering her mouth.

"Your sweetheart, innocent little daughter here is merely feeling a bit anxious due to you and you beloved's inability to keep your dilemma yourselves," Scaramouche responds unkindly, voice raspy.

He can't deny, though, that that while a majority of his tone had arisen from spite, he was trying to compensate for the arousal in his voice.

He merely jests when he tries to tug his hand away and smirks when she looks up at him with wet eyes, pleading.

And fuck, Scaramouche couldn't resist it. He presses the mound of his hand hard against her clitoris and his middle and index fingers finds themselves being buried into her sopping hole that accommodated him so easily.

"You don't have to worry about me doing anything to her, if that's what you're concerned about, mom. Please, carry on with what you were doing and ignore any cries you mat have heard—she's already feeling so embarrassed—I've got it handled. I'll keep her quiet," he casually adds as his fingers thrust in and out her pussy.

Ei doesn't answer immediately, but when she does, she concedes; "We apologise for disturbing you both, we'll keep it down…goodnight," and her footsteps retreat, followed by another pair down the hall and they hear their bedroom door opening and closing.

Scaramouche decides that he'll save his spite for another moment and nuzzles his cheek against hers, "you couldn't have waited, huh?"

He was sure you weren't even paying attention to him anymore, but that was your loss he supposes. If anything though, he was absolute that she could process that she was being praised at least. His hips were moving against her back and he picks up where he left off.

"Both your grades and your attitude have improved," towards your work, and more importantly, me. "You've been struggling to maintain focus and have done failed to do so several times, but that's inevitable…if our parents were smart enough to prioritise what's important, they'd probably be proud of you."

"…actually, I take that back. Maybe I'm giving them too much credit. Your mother probably hasn't the capacity to recognise hard work and effort even if it slapped her in the face…"

And perhaps, it was time for him to let her win, such a strong girl.

"…are you even listening, or have you lost the capacity for that too?"

At this point, yes, Scaramouche was right, she was barely registering anything he was saying. Rather, and superficially so, keeping her heart warm and her body hotter. Her slick wetting the sheets, his fingers and her panting like a bitch in heat.

How hypocritical would it be of Scaramouche if he were to insult her now? Was he any better? Not when his breath was shaking at the sight of her, when the loose fabric of his shorts was getting tighter and tighter. As he was making do, slow friction against the back of her hip like a dog in heat.

He was no better, and he wanted her just as much.

"Scara..! Can I come? Please? I think I'm gonna and I—"

""It feels good, doesn't it? You've done an amazing job, puppy. If you cum now, it won't warrant any punishment."

She whines, "So I can cum, right? I can—ugh, please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad it hurts…"

"And what are you going to do if I say no, hm?"

"Scara…!"

"…I'm only teasing, little step-sis, go ahead and cum for me."

And hey, she must have been lying about being close.

The bed creaked as she took to grinding hard back against his fingers Scaramouche meets her fervour with the thrusting of his fingers, He wondered, we can risk it, right? They're too far away to hear us anyway. Look at her eyes roll back and shake and jerk, how her saliva wets his palm and feel the way her pussy fluttering around his fingers. How could I stop this?

Her muscles tighten, toes curl, fingers dig into his thighs and her tongue flattens abut his palm. Scaramouche wished so badly that he could take in the full extent of her jouissance, her screams and her aggression.

She slouches rigidly against Scaramouche, muscles still taut, and her head slumps forward and her groans and grunts come to a choked halt as she gasps in pleasure. Her body shakes intensely and the white hot knot of pleasure comes undone.

Afterwards, he caresses her clit just to see her jerk before switching his hand drenched in her essence with the hand on her mouth. Wiping his hand then wet with her saliva on the sheets of her bed to pick up his phone (which he'd have to clean later), disconnecting it from the headphones and turning on the volume to the maximum. He teases and glosses her saliva wettened lips further with her fluids, before easily allowing two fingers to enter her agape mouth, only so slightly to press against her tongue at the entrance and gracing her the ability to continue gasping for air.

Resting the phone down, he caresses her cheek, "Are you feeling better now?"

She blinks once, twice staring down at her pussy in a daze before nodding in a daze, and he asks again, "tired?"

She nods again and he accepts her answer, his dick still hard in his shorts. That's fine, he can finish up in the bathroom.

"Okay, then you don't have to do anything for me, okay? Let's-"

She's sitting on his cock, her clothes discarded on the floor while the only thing amiss on his body was the band of his shorts pulled down, the fabric getting wettened by their melding fluids.

With arms wrapped around Scaramouche's head she hugs his face into her chest, a nipple in his mouth. He thrusts his hips upwards his dick rocking in and out of her dripping hole, arms around her torso to hold her in place as she rolled her hips in circular motions.

"You look so cute…"

He moans against her, taking more of the tip of her breast into into his mouth and sliding his tongue around the area of her skin. She didn't want to leave him without finishing after he'd satisfied her so well. So after managing to catch herself, she'd remove her top and underwear. Unclipping the front of her bra but leaving it on her body to allow him access.

Scaramouche's hands slides from her waist and he groans, grabbing a hold of her hips and forces her down on his cock. She shudders, feeling the tip touch her cervix and filling her up so good.

He lets go of her tit with a wet pop and tips her backwards, making her fall on her back.

And that's how she found herself in a mating press.

"Good boy, you're doing such a good job fucking me…you feeling good, big bro? You love this, don't you, Scara?"

"Are you teasing me, aren't you, puppy?"

"Nooo…" she moans. "I-I just want you to feel good, I wanna feel you cum inside me, I want you to use me and it's your turn to cum now…haah, gods, you're so pretty."

"You always say that when we're like this; I'm pretty, huh? You're such an adorable little slut, but I'm almost concerned for you," she didn't miss the condescension in his laboured voice. So cute. "You shouldn't go around giving men to use you like this, especially not me. I'm a selfish fucking piece of shit, y'know…fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"It's okay, I trust you. I trust you soo much, and I'm so happy that you're doing this with and to me, so please enjoy yourself. I love-"

Before she could get another syllable out, Scaramouche smashes his lips against hers, consuming her following words with a wet, hungry kiss. In truth, he didn't mean to cut her words off, especially not those words. Not the words he could only assume she was going to say. But Scaramouche couldn't help it. He'd needed to do something about the pressure building up in his chest before he imploded, the affection that made his lungs and ribs both tighten and expand and lock, he was bursting-

He finds his tongue mingling with hers, their saliva smudging the corner of of their mouths and saliva rolling down her chin.

"Fuck, you feel so…mmph fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum real deep. Gonna cum deep into your fucking pussy and you're gonna take every last drop, you can do that for me, right? I know you can. You're mine, mine mine mine."

Scaramouche pulls away, tugging on her bottom lip before licking the line of saliva down her chin, kissing down her collarbone before burying his face into her chest once again.

His thrusts grow sloppier and she finds her legs now wrapped around his waist. Scaramouche's thighs shake and tears prick at his eyes filled with lust and ardour. He didn't want to admit it, not yet that it was not just due to the sensation of her cunt overwhelming his cock, but her words of affection. The all encompassing warmth and the rot she'd chosen so foolishly to accommodate in her heart for him.

It was her arms clutching his head like precious treasure, her faith and the selflessness she had for him in bed. The capacity she had to accept him whether or not they were underneath the sheets. The way she'd look at scrap him like a blessing from the heavens when what he should have been met with scorn.

He loves her, he does and he doesn't believe that he could realise it enough. Not when his heart aches every time he finds himself back to this conclusion, it strikes him like an epiphany. A tub of ice cold liquid on a sweltering afternoon.

With one last thrust, he buries himself up to the hilt into her recalescent, weeping cunt. His eyes roll back, and he felt as if a trail of gasoline had been set aflame in his veins and arteries as the heat in his stomach reached its' peak, the fire having licked that trail. The smoke was making his head foggy, his gaze lost in a daze of bliss.

And when Scaramouche's body couldn't do with anymore, the pressure broke and he came undone, relief coming in the form of spurts of white hot cum painting her walls white. His taut body had almost immediately went limp on hers and he gives into the sanctity he sensed with her.

And eventually, once again, similar to many prior nights, they eventually find themselves in each other's embrace, panting and planting open mouthed kisses on each other's lips. Legs entangled with each other and breath tickling each other's skin.

I am praying to all that's holy that the errors in this ain't too bad.

And gosh, I need to decide on an aesthetic

#꒰ rebloggs ꒱ྀི #୧ ‧₊smut #tw stepcest

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m0uchie · 6 months ago

Text

hear me out on bully!sukuna okay...

warnings; highschool setting, DUBCON, dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, sex in a confined space, semi-public sex, breeding, sukuna is kinda mean but is a simp at the same time, groping, cum in panties, just lots and lots of cum, "just the tip" he lied, mentions of pregnancy risk, ?cheating, sukuna the toxic tsundere but is horrendously down bad and perverted, eventual or mildly submissive sukuna?, this isn't gonna be the healthiest relationship - but its to be expected tho bc its a bully fic so..

Word count; 5.5k

bully!sukuna bothers you because he has a weird complex with you - preferring to be outright hated by you rather than deal with indifference or facing possible rejection.

it's often teetering on the edge of actual bullying; his existence is more of a nuisance than a serious distress to you.

he often loves getting on your nerves by tripping you up with his foot, only to catch you himself, or he purposefully bumps into you in the hallways making you almost topple over - like the fucking asshole he is. and you'll never forget the time you happened to get paired up with him on an assignment and the bastard had the audacity to try and take you both down by not doing his part. in exchange for his participation, he had you carry his bag for him around school for a week...

and he only gets more thrilled the more you fight back or retaliate.

sukuna likes to call you names, often using very condescending and colourful insults against you. and he likes to harass and chase off any potential boyfriends that come your way. that last one pisses you off the most. you want a boyfriend so bad, and that bastard is being such a huge cockblock. god forbid a girl wants to get laid. all your friends have had their first times already - why can't you?!

and he's back at it again too, after finding out that another guy confessed to you at school today. you accepted it. obviously when he wasn't watching. for a damn reason.

he finds out your last class was P.E today and you find yourself cornered in the locker room, empty of girls except for you. you ended up lagging behind as you were texting your new boyfriend over your phone after class. you try to walk past him to go home, but he traps you against your own locker.

you end up snapping back at him, having had enough of it.

"what is wrong with you? you know what? i think you're obsessed with me!" you shout back, shoving at his chest.

"who do you think you are, to stop me from getting a boyfriend... what, do you like me or something?" you speak without thinking, in a fit of anger.

"i bet you do! i bet you go home every night and jerk off to daydreams of me. is that right?" you go off, pushing every button you can.

sukuna falls silent. you expect him to argue back, to deny all your claims fiercely, and then go storming off, having heard enough of your nonsense.

but he's glaring at you, tight lipped, ears and cheeks turning bright red.

"...why're you silent all of a sudden? say something..." you continue awkwardly. "don't tell me... you actually...?"

"shut up," he hisses at you. "just shut up, for a second."

he wears an expression you've never seen on him before, and seems to be thinking about what to say next. he looks as though he wants to say something.

you open your mouth to tell him 'nevermind', but the sound of a small group of girls approaching the locker room is audible, which interrupts the both of you, and you panic. just what kind of rumours would spur on if they caught you and sukuna like this in here? you only just got your first boyfriend, there's no way you're gonna let this bastard ruin that for you!

thinking quickly, you open up your locker and roughly push sukuna inside, and then jump in after him. you shut the locker door quietly and peek outside through the little gaps at the top. the girls come in, having come back to get something that they left behind. what terrible timing.

one of the girls walk up a little close to your liking and you end up moving your body back as far as you can, your back pressing up against sukuna without thinking. and then you're startled by the low and quiet groan you hear behind you.

whipping around, you see sukuna with clouded eyes and a tightened jaw, barely able to fit inside this narrow locker. but he doesn't find it in himself to feel uncomfortable or annoyed at the situation.

after all, your ass is pressed up tightly against his growing bulge right then and there.

you were right about what you'd said earlier. he'd always daydreamed of a moment like this, pumping his cock at the thought of doing lewd things with you...

you turn back to the front, panicked. what the fuck? why does he look... like that?

kinda hot...

shaking your head, you try to ignore your beating heart, praying that the girls exit the locker room soon so that you can quickly escape from this situation.

meanwhile, sukuna's hands struggle to keep away from you as his brain begins to short circuit, dick helplessly twitching in his pants, chest heaving but it being of no help - as the locker fills with the scent of you in it, the sweetness of your shampoo and perfume, making his heart pump harder.

you slowly shuffle forward a little, trying not to lean against him so much. when are these girls leaving... you think to yourself. they've started gossiping amongst themselves, sitting on the bench. goddamn it!

large hands fall onto your hips and pull you back toward him. you feel him grinding his crotch against your ass, and you know that whatever is poking you is definitely his fucking boner.

"what the fuck, sukuna? s-stop," you whisper to him as quietly as you can.

sukuna has stopped his thinking in itself entirely. whatever's making him act right now is nothing but his pure and selfish desires. there's no way he can resist you when you're the one who climbed inside your own locker with him. he needs to relieve his ache somehow.

he gets more and more handsy with you as each minute passes. his large hand snakes up to fondle your clothed tits as he continues to discreetly dry hump your ass.

you should be disgusted. you should jump out right now and snitch on him and call him a molester right in front of these girls.

but good god, this feels like... nothing you've felt before. his wandering hands. his immense horniness. this tight enclosed space. the size of his boner. it's all making you excited in a weird way, and you're starting to feel aroused at your core.

sukuna is doing his best to get some pleasure from this minimal friction he's getting inside his tight space, but it's not enough. the desperation and arousal claws at him, his dick hurting from how tightly it's sitting in his pants. he swallows on nothing.

fuck it. he's already started. why hold back now?

you feel a shift behind you and the sound of fabric and a zipper being undone. is he...?

you gasp softly when something hot and hard gets pushed between your thighs. it's... it's pulsing. you can't believe this is happening. with sukuna, out of all people? should you be mortified or intrigued? you fear that the latter might be truer.

there's ringing in his ears. not a single logical thought is occupying his brain as he thinks purely with his dick at the moment, having waited so long for a moment like this. fuck, he's so hard. and it only excites him more that you haven't leapt out of this locker yet, running away from him. even though you could. his heart is on the verge of beating it's way up to his throat.

small, shallow thrusts. you feel his heavy cock rub up against your inner thighs, and both of his large hands are now groping your clothed breasts lewdly. he unbuttons your blouse, and then messily pulls down your bra, as he's desperate to feel the real thing, and you can't muster the strength to swat him away. when his fingertips tease your nipples, you have to stop yourself from making any noise. you've always wanted someone to touch you there...

never did you know that someone would be sukuna. you grab his wrist in a fit of desperation.

"you're a fucking pervert... what the hell are you doing?" you tell him a tad bit loudly, trying to deny the heat in your cunt.

"... did you guys hear something?" one of the girls suddenly ask outside.

your heart drops to your stomach as this sets off a panic inside you again. a big, warm hand clasps over your mouth, shushing you effectively.

"quiet..." he mumbles into the shell of your ear, and it weakens your knees. it never occurred to you that he's always had an attractive voice. a wave of goosebumps wash over your skin.

you look down. you can get a tiny peek of his tip whenever he thrusts in... it's so fucking big. you can't possibly fit that inside you, could you? when you catch that it's glistening with precum, your pussy squeezes around nothing.

one hand still over your mouth and the other teasing your tits, sukuna is busy slowly chasing an orgasm, regardless of the girls that have gotten a little wary outside. they soon forget about it and continue their pointless chatter.

fuck... his cock is so close to your cunt. the thought of it makes him shudder. he's almost there.

your hands are semi-clawing at his hand that's still against your mouth, when you suddenly feel him cease the incessant groping at your breasts. instead, it goes under your skirt - a finger loosening your panties up to fit his fat cock beneath the flimsy fabric.

there it is. your bareback fuckin' pussy. he has to bite his own lip to hold off groaning out loud. he does his best to slide his dick in and out against your slit - being restricted in movement due to the tight space, but make doing somehow.

you're actually thankful for his hand covering your mouth up, as you would've definitely moaned out loud if it weren't for him. it's unreal how turned on you are right now. does he feel it? all the slick pouring out of you? it's so, so strange. you were so sure that you didn't want this with him before, but not anymore...

it grazes over your clit over and over, painfully teasing, and you need to orgasm so badly.

sukuna jolts his hips against you, giving a final short thrust as his tip catches the fabric of your panties - he presses his own face against your neck to effectively silence himself as he reaches his first high.

you shudder as his dick pulsates between your thighs so strongly, making a hot mess in your underwear, cum spilling out in thick ropes - you feel the heat of it on your poor cunt, and you shiver as sukuna inhales deeply against your neck, his breathing wavering, dick aching for more even as it continues to spill heavily, creaming your panties. his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, causing you to shiver.

it's a pleasure that's greater than he could've ever given himself alone. but he wants more. he needs more.

you're in the middle of trying to gather yourself again, but you again, feel him moving his hips. just what is he up to now...?

your eyes widen when you catch onto how he's trying to thrust himself inside you now. there's no way... you struggle against him but he holds you still - mouth still firmly silenced by his palm.

the best he can do is have the tip inside. but for now, it's enough. he doesn't care - as long as he can get whatever pleasure that's available...

"j-just the tip..." he whispers with the smallest voice he can manage, against your ear again. it turns you on so good.

you can't help but enjoy when he gropes at your chest again, his tip bullying it's way in your desperate and wet hole, popping in and out, in and out, in and out.

even with just the tip, you're about to lose your mind. you want more, but at the same time you're scared what'll happen to your mind if he shoves that whole thing inside you.

sukuna's brain is yet again short circuiting as he dips the tip of his cock into your hot and slippery cunt - making him feral and desperate to get deeper. yet, what's stopping him is this confined space that suffocates him. there isn't enough oxygen for both of you here, and he wonders whether it's you or the lack of oxygen that's making him endlessly breathless.

oh, he's close again.

he's going to cum again, but this time inside. you want to protest, but you've always wondered... does it feel good to have it spill inside? regardless, you still try to struggle against him purely because you don't like the thought of sukuna knowing that you're enjoying this. even though it's already too late.

he holds you so tightly against him - before letting himself loose once again - tip poking into your pussy as he pumps inside, balls clenching. your hole is welcoming, and it puckers around him mind numbingly, milking his heavy cock for everything he has. you feel the warmth of his seed reaching inside you but not very deep - most of it trickles back out onto your panties. he twitches against you harder and more intensely, hips shoving into you messily.

you're both out of breath...

...and that's when both of you hear the girls leaving the locker room with muffled laughter, successfully avoided noticing you and him inside.

they turn the lights off before they leave, and the locker room turns dark and silent. you're now sweating against sukuna - and the moment you feel his hands loosen against you, you push the locker door open and step outside, unsure of what exactly you're trying to run from. sukuna himself? or the fact that you might be forming some kind of attraction to him? to the way he treats you?

but alas, no matter how fast you think you are, you could never beat sukuna's reflexes. in that quick momentum, he's pursued you outside and grabbed your arm - before pulling you back and shoving you against the now closed locker door.

"where do you think you're going?" he asks with a deep and low voice, vein popping on his forehead and looking desperate and an intense blush being permeated on his face. why is it that it's always made you feel so squirmy, whenever he cornered you like this? the size difference, the strength difference... the pervert here is not only him, it seems.

your needy gaze flutters from his eyes down to his exposed cock. it's veiny, throbbing, and leaking messily. it looks heavy and most importantly... it's so fucking big.

in the blink of an eye, sukuna has hiked your legs up, holding you up against the lockers, making it so that you cannot run from him again. it's game over.

"having the nerve to try and run after seducing me with your ass..." sukuna mutters angrily, lining his dick above your cunt and tummy, showing off how deep it'll reach if he slid it inside.

"no- i didn't..." you protest weakly, heart hammering with excitement. "idiot... let me down."

you tell him, despite your arms that loop around his neck.

"your voice is lacking it's usual sharpness," sukuna tells you breathlessly, flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties aside. it's still wet with his previous loads. oh- he can't think straight.

"wait-! something that big won't fucking fit!" you tell him, only now the fear beginning to hit you. moreover, you're afraid he'll end up breaking you and stop all rational thinking - this is dangerous.

"it will. i'll mould the shape of your insides to my fuckin' cock," sukuna insists, eyes focused on your wet glistening pussy. so pretty.

he pushes it in. but he doesn't stop there. he pushes it in all the way. balls fucking deep.

your eyes widen and when he thrusts the whole thing in one go, you well and truly break. legs trembling, pleasure washes over you and you cry out a moan.

"fuck-! did you just cum? are you cumming?" sukuna asks, panting, slowly sliding himself in and out as your cunt spasms around him. soon enough, he speeds it up and makes sure his tip is bullying your cervix with each deep thrust, eyes rolling back as your walls welcome him so warmly and clamp down on him.

"haah- haah- mm, fuck! you're so fuckin' tight! ugh, 'm gonna bust again," he slurs messily, hips moving non-stop. the unkempt bush of his pubic hair gives friction against you adding onto your strange sensations of pleasure. drool begins to roll out from the corner of your mouth.

his balls have never felt heavier as they slap against your wet ass each time he slams his cock inside, slick pooling out of you and creating droplets on the floor. he has a lot to give you... and your cunt is being so agreeable, the way it sucks on him, warm and wet. it's turning him animalistic, no thoughts running inside his brain except to fucking breed this hole. breed you.

not inside... not inside... you think, not realising that you're not saying it out loud.

"i'm gonna do it inside. i'm gonna-!" he hisses, hips stuttering at the last second.

"ugh- shit! 'm c-cumming... fuuck... fuck!" sukuna cusses deeply, thighs trembling as he continues giving tiny, but sharp thrusts even as he's spilling into you while buried to the hilt.

it's hot. you can feel that it's thick. there's so much. even more than his two previous loads. sukuna's face being twisted in pleasure puts you in awe - and you unknowingly tighten your pussy around him as he orgasms inside, joined to you hip-to-hip.

he's never felt such a deep seated pleasure in him before. he continues to gasp and shudder with every stringy spurt that he knows is reaching your womb. what if he actually knocks you up? what if his seed takes? it's a scary but thrilling thought. the thought of you swollen with his baby... all rational thinking has been thrown out the window due to this pleasure.

sounds that you never could've imagined coming out of sukuna continue to spill from his lips... he slides his cock in and out and squeezes every last drop out of himself, and he suddenly brings his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. both of you pant over each other while making out messily as he slowly begins to thrust into you over and over again. he's going to get addicted to this. he's going to crave your pussy everyday from now on.

sukuna sucks on your tongue like he wants to swallow it. your arms hold onto him for dear life.

all too suddenly, he brings you off the locker, arms hooked under your legs and palms supporting you by holding onto your ass cheeks.

the kiss breaks, and catch sight of sukuna's lust-filled eyes as he moves you up and down his cock using his monster-like strength. and you're held up by him like this, you can't do anything to stop him. just cling onto him and take what he gives you.

"f-fuck, sukuna... ooh-! t-too deep," you mumble with tears in your eyes, gasping from the way his tip kisses your womb effortlessly. he's seriously too big for his own good.

"keep saying my name like that- it'll only make my dick harder," he pants, continuing to use your pussy like a fleshlight. his thick load has made it even wetter. he can feel your slick beginning to cream up around the base of his cock now, and it makes his chest well up with something like pride. does he turn you on that good? this hole of yours refuses to run out of lube.

the absurdly obscene plap plap plap sound of flesh against flesh, makes for the lewdest echo in the locker room. that, paired with the mild darkness, and the possibility of being seen by someone coming in during after-school hours, makes for the perfect thrilling atmosphere for such feral sex.

it's driving you mad. the echoing, the subtle anxiety, the smell of his sweat.

it's marvelous...

another orgasm hits you like a bullet train. gasping, you whimper as he continues fucking you through it this time, relentlessly thrusting into you regardless of your pulsing walls.

"shit... your cunt's clinging to me," sukuna groans, feeling blessed to see you get undone by him, by his cock. the fingertips of his large hands against your ass sink deeper, the pleasurable knot in his stomach getting tighter once again.

"you and your uselessly big dick... fuck you," you chide breathlessly, doing your best to keep your sentences clear even as he plunges into you with an unforgiving pace.

"clearly not useless when it's made you cum twice now, right?"

"shut up-"

you get cut off when he begins to thrust faster, as you witness the very moment sukuna's eyes become blank with pleasure, getting ready to empty his balls again.

"slutty fuckin' cunt. latching onto me so greedily... can't stop- thrusting-" he mumbles, gripping onto your ass tighter.

you can't help but sigh with pleasure when he begins to fill you up again, twitching and pulsing like crazy inside you as he spills so much seed like he's peeing.

"ohh, shit... cumming s-so hard..." he breathes out shakily.

you're starting to feel full. but you get the feeling that this still isn't the last one. desperate kisses are pressed against the side of your neck as he takes some time to relax a little again, thoroughly finishing deep into you, hips jolting every now and then.

he carries you over to the bench in the middle of the room, where he lies you down and brings your knees closer to your chest, fully exposing your cunt to him, whole. his dick still squeezed into you.

with a hoarse shaky groan, he slowly drags his thick cock in and out of you in this position, with only the heavens knowing how he is still hard after so many orgasms.

you give a small yelp as he speeds up - your plush walls embracing him warmly and filling up his balls once more. god, he doesn't think he'll ever have enough of this pussy. of you.

"idiot! e-enough.. take it out... i'll get- pregnant-" you warn him not-so-convincingly, with gasping moans between each word.

"c-can't... you're... sucking me in so good... can't stop-" sukuna replies with no thoughts in his brain other than to relieve the throb in his erection again. it's driving him up a wall, too. the flesh of your ass that softens the impact everytime he drives his hips into you. your squeals and whines of euphoria. your exposed breasts and glistening clit. he burns every detail into his brain, to make sure he remembers forever...

he doesn't even know what number round this is, but it amazes even him how he feels like he's already edging close to another climax. it's pathetic and ridiculous of him. but he can't help the fact that you push him over so easily.

the number of tissues he'd run through just from jerking off every time he thought about you all night... you have no clue.

recalling those moments makes him feel even more determined to chase this final orgasm even more rigorously. it won't be difficult, not with how your cunt swallows him up so nice.

"fuck.... i- i like you. i've always liked you..." sukuna mumbles out the sudden confession slowly.

"stupid... bastard... you say this now...?" you say as you sigh in pleasure, almost being close to your own climax as well, this position setting off yet another deep arousal in you. after all that bickering and tormenting - he has the audacity to confess to you? only after cumming inside multiple times?

"can't give any excuses can i?" he voices with a curt laugh - finding himself to be pitiful in this moment as well.

"but it's true... i- fuck- i like you so much..." he groans, hips getting faster.

your eyes begin to blur with tears again... sukuna thumbs your clit gently... and then you arch your back with a gasping squeal. sukuna too, hisses as he pumps you full for a final time, letting his dick drain itself in your fluttering hole, hips and thighs jerking uncontrollably while his tip leaks spurt after spurt through your cervix, overflowing you to the maximum.

after dumping his final load, he slowly drags his large, twitching cock out of you with a pop and lets it rest against your gaping cunt, pulsing weakly against your clit. his thumb pushes your panty lining aside to keep your pussy exposed for him to see. your hole is still gaping and thrumming, as if missing him already and he's watching with awe as big globs of his spend trickle out of you thickly. if he wasn't so exhausted, the sight of this would've made him hard again.

sukuna lets go of you and lets your legs rest on the bench, as you're still panting from the exertion, mind numb from that last orgasm. he seems to loom over you for a second, before leaning down, arms caging you against the bench, knee between your legs, to kiss you on your glossy lips. it feels good, but you wouldn't want to admit that out loud to him.

"i like you." he repeats again, after breaking away from you. he wonders why it had taken him so long to admit this fact. once he got it out, it became an easy thing to say. you look at his face and he looks so pathetic in your eyes, the usual look of cockiness and mischief being wiped away. he says it as if he's pleading you, and you know what he's asking for, what he's unable to say out loud. he probably wants to be your boyfriend.

it's strange to see the puppy eyes of your literal arch nemesis, and it's also strange to hear his voice give you a love confession. it makes you mad. it makes you angry. not because you hate it, but because you don't hate it.

he sees it. he sees the instant your eyes glint with anger, and he very swiftly dodges the head butt you try to give him at the very last second.

"move, idiot," you say sharply, glaring at him.

alright, he probably deserved that one.

you stand up and fix your bra and blouse before gathering your things from the locker before leaving without another word - sukuna follows you outside in a fit of mild anxiousness.

"hey-"

"you. take responsibility and buy me some plan b pills. and a pregnancy test kit," you interrupt, looking back at him.

"...alright," he responds rather obediently, after a nervous swallow.

after you turn back around to continue walking, the tiniest smile grows on your face... sukuna looking nervous is something you never thought you'd see. maybe you can use this to your advantage.

your phone vibrates in your hand. it's from your new 'boyfriend'. a sweet message saying he's excited to see you again tomorrow. you delete the notification with a little bit of guilt on your mind. you'll leave tomorrow's issues for tomorrow.

in front of the chemist, you languidly stand around outside waiting as sukuna does as you'd asked him. truth be told, it was because you didn't want to buy them yourself, out of embarrassment. you know he doesn't care about how people sees him, so no harm done there.

when he comes back out with the bag, he holds it out to hand it over to you. but when you try to grab it, he lifts it away.

"you're gonna break up with him, right?" he suddenly asks, with a rather serious expression on his face.

you ignore the question and try to grab the bag, but he avoids you again.

"...right?" he emphasises. he doesn't intimidate you at all anymore, not after knowing about his feelings for you.

"it's none of your business?" you tell him, finally snatching the bag. he doesn't look too pleased about that answer. you take the pills quietly and shove the rest into your bag.

"okay. now go home," you shoo at him. "i'm tired."

"you haven't answered me yet," he says firmly, holding onto your wrist.

"you'll have your answer tomorrow," you reply in an exasperated tone, shaking off his grip.

"and just letting you know. if it turns out positive, i'm never speaking to you again," you warn him with a deadpan face. in the back of your mind, you're pretty anxious about it, but you know according to your cycle, today wasn't a fertile day. that, and with the pill... it should be alright.

sukuna stiffens up and opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again.

"and don't follow me. if you do, i'll also never speak to you again."

you're not that serious about not talking to him ever again, but you believe he deserves to feel as anxious as you do.

"... i wasn't planning on stalking you anyway. jesus," sukuna mutters, kicking at the dirt on the ground.

you narrow your eyes at him, and then continue your way home.

he scratches the back of his head in frustration. it's like he's skipped a lot of steps towards you and it's coming back to bite him in the ass. ah, well. nothing he can do about it now.

sukuna starts praying that the test comes out as negative.

in the end, you decided to become the asshole and just break up with the guy over text. what was there to even really 'break up' anyway? it was for less than a day...

regardless, the news seems to run across the entire school and your friends begin to pester you about why. you can't tell them the truth. what could you even say? 'oh, i got railed good by the one guy i despised in school and it made me end up changing my mind'? fuck that.

he walks towards you after school with seemingly high spirits.

"so... i heard you broke it off after all," he approaches you after hearing the good news. you'd been ignoring him all day, but he's hoping you'll stop once the day was over and there was no one else around to watch them.

you continue to give him the silent treatment, walking along without sparing him a glance.

"hey," he grabs your forearm to stop you from walking.

"stop ignoring me. please."

you only spare him a glance because he added 'please'.

"...i don't see how that changes anything between us," you finally respond.

"right. surely not," he responds, voice thick with sarcasm.

"is that the correct attitude you should be taking? i broke up with him because i felt bad i fucked someone else while we were together. not because i like you back," you shoot at him, crossing your arms.

"oh, give me a break. you were barely with him for one day-"

"sukuna. do you want me to like you back?"

sukuna falls silent, looking at you with annoyance yet also simultaneous desire.

"if you want me to like you... then you need to work for it. make up for all the mean things you've said and done to me."

"...how? what should i do?" he asks, daringly, stepping forward towards you.

you wordlessly take your bag and shove it against his chest with an aloof expression on your features. it startles him for a moment, but looking at your face, he understands what you're asking of him. he slowly smirks and slings your bag over his shoulder, on top of his own.

"easy. anything else?"

"...i'm kinda hungry. take me somewhere good to eat. you pay."

"so... a date?" sukuna hums teasingly, trying to hold your hand.

"nope. you're gonna act as my lackey for a few weeks. it's payback. after that... well, we'll see," you say as you dodge his hand.

he can't wipe the smile off his face. you're clearly playing around with him, but he doesn't hate it. it's another form of attention, is it not? he'll have plenty of chances to make you his from now.

little does he know... he's the one that will become yours in the end.

you know the drill! dot points bc im lazy as fuck!!

okay well, first off the test does turn out negative, lucky for him... from then on you make him wear condoms whenever you have sex

but before that, he spends a few weeks running around to try and appease you

everybody shocked to see the big bad bully is being so obedient, and little do they know...

mmmaybe you give him little rewards every now and then, some sneaky kisses or so, just to keep him afloat... and then you withhold your body from him again

still carries your bag for you everywhere

has to deal with the frustration of not having boyfriend privileges yet... always itching to touch you but you wont allow it until you think he deserves it

sitting between his legs but not letting him be handsy with you is torture. maybe he'll break the rules a bit and hug your waist anyway

love the thought of him borderline begging for your touch because he's so hard from spending so much time being so close with you and it's been well over three weeks since he's done anything remotely sexual with you

maybe you'll feel a little turned on by his pleading that you cave in a bit, and take him to the public restrooms for a few handjobs

he will take anything he can, the opportunist...

and you'll have plenty of fun edging and toying with sukuna until he's shaped nicely into being a good obedient boyfriend for you

bully sukuna trope was inspired and set alight by @gojos-thot-patrol btw, link to his fic here... mine took a completely different path but it was a similar concept in the end ✨️👌

Masterlist

#꒰ rebloggs ꒱ྀི #୧ ‧₊smut

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m0uchie · 6 months ago

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I'm writing a long fic and I'm not having time to work on it, so I might take a while (more than before lol😭). Y'ALL SEND ME LINKS OF YOUR FICS IF I MISSED SOMETHING. I WANT TO READ ITTTT

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m0uchie · 7 months ago

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bro im sorry for saying this so openly but I missed my dildo 😨I haven't been home for ages and when I finally do get home, my period comes 💔

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m0uchie · 7 months ago

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what exactly is a proshipper..?

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m0uchie · 7 months ago

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i think i got drunk (like really drunk) for the first time today

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m0uchie · 7 months ago

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.I'll Kiss You Like I Don't Love You By Rena | Shyent

Scaramouche x fem!reader, taller fml, dry-humping, asexual fml, hand-job, praise, avoidant attachment style, she has so many physical flaws and I love her for that, implied autistic fml

WC: 2.998k

This is a repost from my other account with some minor (BIG, THEY WERE BIG!!) corrections.

You gasp when you feel his knee being shoved further up between your legs against your bare pussy, unshielded by the dress you wore, often without any undergarments for the sake of general comfort at home.

Scaramouche rests his hand on the back of your head and pulls your face towards him. Tilting his head upwards to look up at you, the hairs at the tip of your noses brushing against each other, inflicting a ticklish sensation. A hand quivering with anticipation rests against his cheek, and he leans into your palm that was nearly covering the entirety of the side of his face. Scaramouche rubs against it as a means of feeling your calluses and his skin prickles.

He turns his face into your hand, eyes closing as he inhales your scent, lips pressing into your grasp for a moment of silence (a moment of ceaseless worship). You lean in to kiss his cheek, seeking to get as close to his lips as you can, should, and will.

Scaramouche appeals to his gaze once more, looking back at you through his eyelashes. Turning to you, he would not dare to close his eyes as he leaned in. The world as he knew it became a blur.

His world; your skin, your moles, your eyelashes in an illusion of entanglement with his, the colour of your scarred lips and your eyes. Scaramouche brushes his lips against yours. Grazes would turn into pecks, and pecks would turn into long, drawn-out kisses.

And another, and another, and another.

It was relentless, the creeping flame behind each kiss.

It was measured, yes, the roll of your hips and the warmth pooling at the pit of his stomach as he swallowed every flicker of fire that would spark between you two.

It was bridled, the way he'd consume you. Your scent, warmth beneath his fingers, palm buried in your hair. Your taste, your moans, your searing touch, all of which stoked the embers of a shared fire hot with passion. As always, you lean in. Not to make a plea to an ache you did not feel, but for closeness; the ever-grounding comfort of his presence.

Your desires were cool and steady. However, never in your ignorance mistaken, this want as weak in comparison to his, for it was all but mere. Not when it was so large and present in his conscious mind. Not when it was what tempered the fire you knew burned in him, always for you. Always because of you.

You whine in frustration as he removes his leg from between yours. In an attempt to reclaim his warmth, you’d raise your knee to try and wrap your leg around his waist. Each time, he dodged you by stepping back. Scaramouche chuckled at the sound of your groans of annoyance, his tittering kept light. You’d argue that it was in fact, a giggle. Scaramouche would beg to differ.

The back of his legs hit the soft edge of the sofa, and the corner of his lips curled upwards as he was forced to slump backwards into a relaxed position. Seizing the opportunity to climb on top of him, you jump at the chance to straddle his leg, hands clamped on his shoulders for balance.

You nip his lip before finally pulling back, your gaze shifting from his indigo eyes to the string of saliva that connected your lips. To Scaramouche’s amusement, you regarded him with a victorious, giddy expression, sticking your nose up in the air as a display of conquer.

"I won."

"And pray tell, what have you won?"

Your pause, your features scrunching as you try to articulate your triumph. It was stupidly charming.

"...I won," you say, a giggle slipping out, bouncing on his leg in excitement. You rest your hands over one another on the top of his head, rolling his neck in small circles. You flick your toes and smile teasingly, experimentally rolling your hips with a twinkle in your eyes, "So, may I?".

Scaramouche reaches out a hand to caress your cheek before wrapping his fingers and applying minimal pressure around your neck, whereas his free hand would rest on your thigh. No, his heart will never not flutter at the way your smile would brighten and widen (just for him, only for him) whenever he did it.

"Go ahead," he whispers, softer than he'd intended.

You remove your hands from his head to hold his face, pressing your forehead against his as you try to find your rhythm. Whenever Scaramouche’s face had been held by you, he’d feel so small. Yet, to his surprise, he never found himself feeling undermined or you overbearing. Rather, Scaramouche felt protected in your hands bigger than his, and cherished, and appreciated.

No matter what they did—each time—sometimes it took ten or more minutes for you to feel a spark of arousal, but it never deterred you from the general idea of doing these things with him, and it never made the experience of doing it with you worth any less.

You knew that he was accepting of how your needs differed from him and how enthusiastic he was about accommodating you. You knew it, yet even so, you never quite escaped the creeping anxiety of not being enough, like now.

Flurried and in spite of your better judgement, you press your clit harder, rougher against his thigh, eliciting an ached moan and the aversion of your eyes in something akin to shame, pulling your head back. Scaramouche did not miss a beat.

“Hey, look at me,” he caresses your cheek with his free hand. “You do not have to perform for me.”

“I’m not…I want to do this with you.” your movements were now slow, irregular and stiff, and your heart was racing. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t, you didn't want him to feel undervalued. Not when he was worth so much to you.

He huffs through his nose, rubbing the pad of his thumb into the side of your neck, creating pressure and with efficiency, cutting off your blood flow slightly.

“I know that you do, but I’m reminding you that I want to do this with you too; take your time for me.”

To show you what he meant, he tightened his grasp on your side and forced you to slow down to a more comfortable and relaxed pace.

“Just like that, okay? We'll do this for as long as you want to. The point of this is that I want to feel good with you—not just because of you. You want that too. Don't you, pretty girl?”

You follow the pace Scaramouche eased you into and rests a hand over his stomach before raising his shirt over his chest. You avoid his gaze, the praise making you shy, and gaze down at his bare skin.

“I do…” you murmur, before adding earnestly, willing yourself to look back at him. “I want you too.”

Around the eight-minute mark, you exhale through your nose, nostrils twitching.

“Feeling it now?”

“Yeah…”

His hand on your hip slips up your waist underneath the dress you wore, rubbing tender circles around the fat of your breast, then the areola before pressing down on your nipple, causing you to hum his name.

“And what's this?”

“Good…”

“That's not what I asked, [name]. Let's try again,” Scaramouche pinches your nipple. “What's this?”

“You’re pinching my boob.”

He smiles at the pout on your lips and your furrowed brows, “Go on.”

“Your palm is pressed against my chest…and you feel so cold. And you're rubbing me so slowly…kneading? Yeah, the word is kneading. You're removing your hand from my neck and…”

You continue to narrate what he does. With his now free hand, he raises the hem of your dress over your shoulders for it to cascade down your back, exposing your body bare for him.

Scaramouche palms your neglected breast and rolls each side in opposing directions each with tenderness and care, flicking at and pressing into your cool nipples with his thumbs. As you lean into his touch, he takes it as his to use his right hand to caress your ass. He kisses the areola, before licking circles with his tongue and then finally taking your nipple into his mouth.

And gods, it was adorable. The way Scara looked up at you to gauge your approval, how he’d needily press his face against your breast and flick and twirl his tongue in a careful, methodical manner. The little suckling and clicking sounds he’d make as he sucked on your tit, how heavily he’d breathe through his nose and the occasional puff of his cheek and the pleasured hums muffled against your skin.

The saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth messing up his lips and the drool snaking down his chin and your stomach. The flush of his cheeks and the way he furrowed his brows and sucked on you in heightened fervour as you dragged your fingers through his indigo locks in a manner reminiscent of a cat. At some point, you stopped narrating as there wasn’t much to say anymore, but he did not mind. He didn’t need you to keep on talking to get off any further, not when you were looking at him like that.

“Good boy.”

You almost squeal when he scowls at you, but it wasn’t a scowl he could maintain for long when you decided to reward him. When you slide your hand along his neglected thigh and reach into the looseness of his shorts to palm his clothed cock before reaching into his boxers. Scaramouche rubs into your hand, and the expression on his face, his eyes rolling back and his muted moans did nothing but egg you on. It did nothing but want you to make him feel even better.

Once you’ve had your appetizer, you take your hand out, and you can absolutely hear his whine when you do. Scaramouche grazes his teeth against your nipple as if to threaten you, but returns to licking when you peel the band of his shorts down, allowing his cock to spring out and meet the cold air.

You firmly grasp his dick and rub your thumb around his head. Not enough to make him cum any time soon, but just to induce sensation. He pants, and finally, you hear a pop when he removes his mouth from your nipple, a thick string of saliva between his lips and the mound as he momentarily closes his eyes shut, panting.

Hm, what did you have to lose?

"Your pubes are really cute.”

"...Do you have to tell me that each time you see my dick?"

"They are, though...Can I have some?"

"...I feel I've become so desensitised to your-"

"Love for cute things?"

"If that's another way to say strangeness or degeneracy, then sure, that–to the point that I see no reason to deny you of your request."

"Deadass?"

"Absolutely."

"You're so sweet!"

"And you're ever the romantic."

Despite the sarcasm in his tone, Scaramouche did mean it. As weird, and quite frankly, disturbing, as your request might be, he wouldn’t mind providing you with even his nails torn from the bed..he's unwilling to say that just yet, though; the least he'd want to do is scare you. And he knew that it wouldn’t be the intrusive idea of gory fingers penetrating your imagination that would do it for you, but rather, the idea of him going so far for you. Him being hurt for you voluntarily. To confront the idea of him loving you. To be forced to acknowledge that reality you were not ready to.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, as you tease his cock, moaning into his ear,

“Thank you…thank you so, so much for this…I like you.” You can feel chills crawling up along your skin as your cunt drools on Scara’s thigh.

“If you’re so thankful…” he bites out, giving one hard and aggressive jerk into your hand. “Then touch me like you mean it.”

I love you, he doesn’t say.

And with that, you finally tighten your grip around his wet cock and on the gods, the sound elicited from him was heavenly. How he choked on his moan when you jerked his dick off and dug his teeth into your shoulder.

Giving up on maintaining a cohesive conversation, they allow themselves to be reduced to a cacophony of whining and panting, and on your part, near sobs when the sensation of your impending orgasm becomes overwhelming. When you verbalise this, he grips either side of your hips and forces you to continue rocking your hips. Each jerk was hard, mean and snappy, yet so fucking slow. You didn’t know which hurt more; the anticipation or the stimulation.

“Good good good, so good–oh fuck.” you mewl.

He thrusts his dick into your hand. Through his lashes, eyes half-lidded, his gaze wouldn’t flitter. No, but rather, he’d sensor his eyes up and down from your head to your cradling hips. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be inside of her, forcing himself to align the pace of his hips with hers. As torturous as it was, it did nothing but heighten his arousal.

“Fuck- just like that, don’t stop for me, alright, pretty girl…”

“I’m pretty?”

“Hah…you’re acting as if I don’t call you that on a daily basis.”

“..I just want you to say it again, please...”

“You’re so. Fucking. Beautiful” Each word is accentuated with each thrust. “If I let go, can you, hah, keep moving? Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t…I don’t think that I can…”

“For me. You’ll make me so fucking happy if you can do just this one thing, do you want to make me happy?”

“I do!”

“Then, can I trust you?”

Unfortunately for you, Scaramouche doesn’t provide you the opportunity to answer as he removes his hands to run to explore your body before finally settling on your bare waist. You’d probably pull his cheeks apart if he said it aloud, but the way your sounds had gotten progressively higher when you were forced to carry her pleasure for him was extremely pathetic.

Pitiful, the way you’d try to keep your watering eyes from rolling back (he said that you looked stupidly cute once for it. You had focused on the word ‘stupid’ more than the ‘-ly cute’ part) and trained on him. How you tried and failed to bite down on your lip to keep your mouth clamped shut.

The saliva trailing down your chin, darkened cheeks and tongue occasionally lolling past your lips. The way you’d grunt his name and strings of unintelligible pleas for nonsense was going to send him over the edge. The way, that despite yourself, you stretched yourself between stimulating and performing the task he put onto you. How you’d, despite the burden of his request, would overwhelm yourself with stimulation while putting special attention to his cock.

How you’d flick your wrist, circle his hole and shake. All the while stumbling over your words as you asked him again and again ‘Is this okay?’. Under normal circumstances, he’d tease and mimic you to see your scowl, but how could he now? He admits he’d feel uncharacteristically bad for it. Not when you were doing all of this for him.

Scaramouche didn’t even think that he could speak in full sentences anymore, not when he was panting along with you like a dog in heat. Not when he was pathetically calling your name and reassuring you of your performance. Not while trying his best to swallow the words hot at the tip of his tongue ‘I love you’. Not when he was trying to keep his composure that was melting into a puddle, assuming he still had any, to begin with.

Your thighs, at last, clench around his and you squeal, closing your eyes shut as you grind your pussy down on his leg, your fluids pooling and dripping down into a puddle on the floor. And oh, if you could see how beautiful and fucked up you looked. At the back of his mind, Scaramouche wondered if he could take a picture of you someday.

Your toes curl and you can feel his small body tense under you, your backs arching and chests pressing against each other, the saliva left behind him on yours smudging against his. Scaramouche feels his stomach twitch and his eyes roll back, your hips stuttering and your pussy fluttering on his thigh.

“I’m cumming…”

“I’m gonna cum too…”

Your hand stutters to a near halt, but, if the feeling of you alone wasn’t enough to send him over the edge. He played those words over and over as he rutted into your grasp, digging his fingers into your waist almost painfully as you sloppily licked the side of his neck. When you finally met your climax, you also felt his hot cum shooting between the two of you onto your stomachs and underneath your breasts.

No words were exchanged between the two of you. Not when you removed your head from his shoulder, not when you caressed his cheek with your hand messy with his fluids. Not when he leans into your touch, further smearing them against his face. Not when he pulled you in to lick the sweat off your cheek and forehead, not when you kiss him and suck on his bottom lip. Not when he wraps his arms around you and rolls you over to sit beside him on the couch and not when you burst into a fit of giggles and he hums, both your bodies twitching and coming down from your highs. And not when you quiet down, staring back into his eyes.

No words were spoken, but few were imminent in his mind.

I love you, he doesn’t say.

I know. You close your eyes.

Author's Note: This is my second smut piece. Writing it took me a long time, and I'm a bit dissatisfied with how it turned out. I haven't had the chance to proofread it thoroughly, so please let me know if you notice any errors. I would really appreciate your comments and reblogs! If there are any errors, please tell me, comment and reblog.

#꒰ rebloggs ꒱ྀི #୧ ‧₊smut

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