#bc im an airhead

[thruflames]

paint/anatomy study w swiss

[pilotstreets]

i'm not gonna lie, if i was a citizen of dema i don't think i'd ever escape. i'd probably have no clue banditos even exist. i would be bopping around my all gray room to scaled and icy like "man, i wish there was a color that went with red and orange. too bad i've never seen it in dema. anyway, no chances slaps. im sure there's no deeper meaning to it." and i'd meet up with my friends and chat about "did you SEE that guy on good day dema? with the pink hair? wasn't he sooo cute? omg and the guy on drums? what a MAN!" then all of the sudden the bishops are dead and body control is real and the guy on good day dema led a rebellion that ended society as i knew it. and i still don't know what a bandito is.

[shion2nd]

whenever i get an intense feeling of interest towards someone there is nothing i wont do for even a sliver of information.. i must know it all..

[yuukei-yikes]

i love harutaka they see each other as equals and are so best friends and i love them so much. i wish mca did them more justice bc ep 6 is very cute but it lacks a lot of the intimacy they originally had in the manga and novels

[killjoy-prince]

So I reached the hacked chat era of the route

[bo0zey]

when gerard way said “when i grow up i want to be nothing at all” i felt those words in my gdamn soul bro

[darksouls2yuri]

oh i just realized if i start using my 3ds again i should dexorate it ^_^

[denialpuppy]

im boooooooored i wanna be talked down to n treated like a dog

[intertexts-moving]

ALSO signed up for the tintin class + talked 2 my prof ab double majoring... aaaa

[perilegs]

yeah you know i do think i like it an average amount when i find out an actor i'm attracted to has played someone belonging to a music subculture in the late 90s or early 00s. anyways unrelated to that do you want to watch nypd blue s8 e9 with me

[mx-paint]

.

[rat-tomago]

i think i would rather eat glass garnished with rat poison than go 2 work 2day

[apricotsandcandles]

sooo fun when someone goes to the us and brings home american candy. like the sweets are colours not found anywhere in nature, they taste so artificial and they contain banned additives and they kinda taste bad but you cant stop eating them

[nyatawia]

I haaate this situation sm im a non confrontational person but like… im also not a doormat yk i let ppl walk over me but theres a limit to my patience and apparently that limit is putting your dirty feet on the table where i eat

[patrice-bergerons]

It's extremely rude that I'm being made to work on yet another corporate document when I have a second kunessi fic I'm dying to write 😭

[mistywaves98]

DILF SCARA! no bcs (middle-aged) Scara being our college prof 🤷🏻‍♀️. airhead y/n! wearing a slightly revealing top, being told to stay after class for a 'talk' but then Mr. Mouche ends up finger fucking y/n over his desk... OKAY IM SO DOWN BAD

This got me racking my brain. Also heads up, I zoned out a LOT while writing this so it might suck

✧･ﾟ:* ->Dilf Teacher! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Age gap (Scara is late 20s - early 30s n Reader is early 20s), Fingering, One use of Petnames, teacher x student trope, not proofread!

The confused look on your face when you entered Scaramouche's office after class was so adorable, he had to keep himself from pouncing on your right then and there. As you sat on the chair in front of his desk, it took all his willpower not to let his gaze drop to the delicious view of your cleavage sitting just below your collar bones. He was so focused he didn't realize that he hadn't even spoken yet, it was only your sweet voice that brought him out of his head,"Sir...? You called me in for a talk?"

The worry in your tone was evident. Did you do something wrong? Were your grades dropping?? Scaramouche cleared his throat as he clasped his hands together on top the surface of the table,"Ahem— Yes, miss [Name]. I did call you in for a light discussion about...upholding. I noticed that you're wearing...quite the revealing top today. In case you didn't realize, it violates the school's dress code. And thus, I'll have to punish you." Truly it was an exaggeration, the top wasn't really a violation at all. But how could he pass up the opportunity like this?

You were more puzzled than ever, glancing down at your clothes to see if they really did show off as much skin. When you looked back up to protest, you realized that Scaramouche was now standing behind you,"...What are you doing? Sir...?" He didn't answer as his hands suddenly grasped your waist, lifting you from the chair with ease. You squeaked in surprise as he pushed you onto the table, knees still supported by the chair and making your back arch slightly. This position gave him a clear view of your rapidly dampening panties under your skirt, the sight making him smirk as he clicks his tongue.

"Tsk tsk. Such a naughty girl, wearing such a short skirt. It's like you're asking to be slutted out. Look how wet you are already...I'll definitely have to punish you for this." Scaramouche tuts as he brings up a hand to press two fingers against the wetness, making you squirm as he shakes his head, long purple locks framing his face perfectly. Your face burns as you finally come to figure out exactly what kind of 'punishment' he was talking about.

His slender fingers continue to rub against your clothed slit, relishing the way your panties clung to your folds as they became soaked with your arousal. The friction provided by the movement of the fabric against your pussy making you mewl as your hands gripped the edge of his desk, your head craning back to try and look at him. When Scaramouche decides he's worked you up enough, he slides your panties down to settle above your knees, revealing your dripping pussy to him.

The obvious erection in his pants was tempting him to just stick his dick into you right then and there, but he wanted to tease you a bit, it was punishment after all. He moved his thumb to circle around your throbbing clit, causing you to inhale deeply as his other digits ghosted your entrance. It was frustrating, all this rubbing was making you needy, your pussy clenching around nothing. Scaramouche could see that and the image of your desperation was thrilling.

Slowly, he eased the tip of his ring and middle finger into your cunt, groaning softly at the already tight squeeze, "You're eager for this, aren't you?" Your whine told him all he needed to know, as he gave you another inch of his fingers. You tried to push back your hips to make his fingers go deeper, wiggling then slightly for friction. He quickly used his other hand to push your back onto the cold desk, holding you in place as he chided you about being impatient.

Suddenly, Scaramouche shoves the remaining length of his fingers into you, the squelch resonating throughout the room, eliciting a hiss from you. He finds a steady pace, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your slick heat with each thrust. You clamped a hand over your mouth, all too aware of the fact someone could be walking by. He knew this as well, but the risk of being walked in on was riling him up as he increased the speed of his digits.

Your essence dripped onto the seat of the chair, creating a dark spot that would have to be cleaned. But for now, Scaramouche's main concern was making you cum all over his fingers, right here in his office. The sounds of your muffled whimpers, combined with the feeling of your tight walls was making him breathless, hair sticking to his flushed face as his thumb got back to work on your swollen bundle of nerves.

The stimulation was making your head fuzzy, and it didn't help that whenever he curled his fingers you could feel the rough pads of their tips press right against the spot that made your legs feel like jelly. Your orgasm was pending, and you knew it wouldn't be long before were pushed over the edge. The slight change in the pitch of your moans was a testament to that. And Scaramouche noticed this too, "Hmm, what's this? You're gonna cum? Then cum for me, make a mess all over my fingers.."

No one needed to tell you twice. With a low cry, you came undone, back arching as your juices coated his digits. The sensation made him smile as he helped you ride out your high before slowly pulling them out to examine the way your juices shone in the dim light of his office. Now that he'd made you cum once, Scaramouche figured you'd be ready for the next step. He held you down as you tried to get up, making your glossy eyes look up at him in confusion,"Ah ah, where do you think you're going? We're not done just yet..."

With a quick shift in position— the chair pushed aside, leaving your trembling legs to support you —he now stood directly behind you. His pants were already unbuckled, it along with his boxers pulled down to reveal his cock aching for attention as pearly globs of precum dribbled from the tip,"I think we'll be here for a while, so brace yourself, princess..."