#not in a corruptive way but him dealing with things he would never in his life do and then defying his own orders

[corollaservant]

C is for Cooperation (yan stsg x f!reader)

Warnings: dark content (dd:dne), coercion, deception, alcohol use, implied drug use, sensory deprivation, pet names, yandere-ish, dubcon (intoxication) to noncon (deception), unethical guilt shaming // corrupt corp. AU

Wc: 4.5k

‘’I told you he is not handling the layoff.’’

Excellent recommendations, spotless CV, inherited wealth and the most important in corporate: connections. He had the whole thing. To say he fucked his way up would be a lie. Sure, he had the looks. It was the eyes. But that wasn't the case, since money ruled the circles you were in. You would have fallen into his trap, had he not been the most obnoxious person within a short radius. It was no surprise he quickly established himself as team leader (would've accepted a project managing position but the responsibilities were too many—he took pride in being humble).

No, Satoru was not some clock watcher, staying hours after his shift, taking over and instructing employees. And they loved it, looking in his shiny eyes in awe, the way he explained the software abilities (and use, since most were overcomplicated for no reason, this wasn’t a tech company). Women went crazy, men either respected or hated him but still somehow—somehow he had earned everyone's fucking respect. It was to no one’s surprise that the rest of the meeting agreed with him.

‘’I see no problem, we can have Suguru do the layoff.’’ You couldn't pinpoint the voice, fuck this, whiteboarding ideas for a layoff with the rest of HR should've not been like this. Since when were team leaders allowed in these anyway? 

‘’But this isn't even his position.’’ Seriously, why did you have to explain basics within corporate, your colleagues were in the business long enough to know how this works. Plus Suguru...That guy was hesitant when requesting a change in schedule (always did the night shifts) how the hell was he supposed to lay someone off? Suguru's position alongside Satoru was an instantaneous decision your project manager imposed on you last week. It was one thing to have to deal with Satoru, and now this? These two weren't even close friends, what's with the desire to promote him already? 

Satoru had sent in a completely unsolicited recommendation mail to HR highlighting Suguru's highly acclaimed and friendly teamwork, an understanding, empathetic colleague with motivation to learn and assist. You had laughed of course. While Suguru's CV was impressive, nowhere near did he have the experience of others. Others rejected because they weren't friendly enough, words from the project manager. You were perceptive. You knew Satoru must’ve pulled some strings, in no dictionary was Suguru the definition of a leader. 

‘’I think Suguru has been very interactive and assisted the team in the newly sent-in guidelines, we flew him over to Germany for training and the headquarters loved him. I think he's more than capable in doing so.’’ Satoru states. Plain and simple. No malice to you of course, no, he would never. He always thought you were driven by pure professionalism and he loved that. Good for you, anything else would be a distraction. 

‘’I say, we have someone else do this.’’ You insist? Alright, Satoru will have to use tactic number two.

‘’Well I say...’’ He takes a deep breath, he loves this; his time to shine again. ‘’I say we live in a free country, a democratic one, right fellas?’’ He patriotically winks at some middle aged guys, gotta reach the target audience. No one better than the LinkedIn incel brothers across the room. ‘’Therefore why don't you guys decide whether Suguru is suitable for this?’’ He hasn't twisted the knife yet—just stabbed it.

‘’Wouldn't want me to tell him he won't actually do this, would we?’’ His eyes look at you and proceed to scan the rest.

Thirty four minutes later Suguru gets a call. He’s doing his first layoff Monday morning.

—

Satoru’s bunny died. Sudden death, his vet couldn’t find the cause. Usual for rabbits, he said. Apparently it was everyone’s problem in the office. ‘’My condolences, sir.’’ could be heard across the hallways, as if the company hadn’t fired ten people from the project a couple hours ago. 

You find him in the kitchen. You wouldn’t have to visit their floor had they not been out of kitchen paper—someone had to do it.

‘’How are you, pretty?’’ So the death mustn't have fazed him a lot, you take it. You feel uncomfortable, you never give such rights as you turn to face him. 

‘’Please refrain from pet names. My condolences.’’ You half-mock, half-answer seriously, this isn’t the time for chitchat.

It feels like no one actually cares for the project, tasks are assigned to whomever is gullible enough to never say no, people gossip and neglect urgent mails. You are in no position to judge, you feel annoyed however with the amount of stuff you have to carry out, because no one actually works. You hate being this person. Hate thinking of conforming to a bureaucratic machine. But seriously, there is no ounce of professionalism in this place. Satoru is the least of your responsibilities and you want this conversation to end. 

‘’You're coming to the party, right?’’ You scoff. A corporate fucking party. Who the hell enjoys these things anyway? Of course you have to go. If you don’t, you’re going to hear it from the rest of the team, you can’t help but think what’s worse, the aftermath of missing out on it (‘’Oh my God, you should’ve been there, Greg was pissed drunk and projectile vomited all over the bar!’’—their idea of fun) or going and experiencing it live. 

‘’I guess.’’ You might as well go, wouldn’t want the dress you thrifted to go to waste. 

‘’I’ll be seeing you then.’’ He smiles, it’s not genuine. But you also can’t make out what it’s supposed to hide so you decide it’s not something to occupy your thoughts with. 

‘’Sure.’’

—

It’s worse than expected. It’s raining (pouring would be a better description), the dress you chose is long enough to get muddy and the cab driver doesn’t seem to know the meaning of speed limit. By the time you get to the hotel—it was decided that no money should be spent in hiring an event manager, instead wasting it on a rented party hall purely for the satisfaction of the incel brothers—the ends of your dress are stained and you have to lift it and clumsily tug your umbrella to your sides. Not smart, it soaks the dress under your armpits. You’re already pissed and ready to run behind the taxi when the six feet tall and presumably part time model in the entrance asks for your name.

He carefully guides you through the lobby, letting you know that due to an unexpected number (hadn’t they calculated the amount of people? Of course it was the only time you decided to not busy yourself with the party planning) the seating had changed. You honestly can’t bring yourself to care about the seats, all you need is your drink from the designated menu. Chug it down, ask for more (the only positive aspect of a corporate party; drinks on the company’s name) and leave slightly buzzed—just enough to warrant you a good night’s sleep. 

It’s crowded. Too many lights and too much noise. The tables are full, the bar packed and there’s a dance floor with people in a circle. Are they doing karaoke? Jesus fucking Chirst. You are being sat on a half empty table. It’s round and there’s some people you don’t know (go figure, the company employed over ten projects) so you take a seat, looking nowhere in particular. How many hours until you leave? Three. About three. 

‘’Well, well, well..’’ It’s obnoxious and it’s coming from behind you. There they are, he’s wearing a black suit with tie and a white button up and Suguru is there too, similarly dressed. Suguru’s hair is long, you guess he tied it up due to formality. His posture is hunched as he looks at you. Impassively? You don’t know.

‘’Can we sit?’’ Satoru asks, as he already sits down next to you, Suguru to your left. 

‘’There’s a seating system.’’ You’re not even lying, this isn’t your first corporate party.

‘’We know.’’ It’s Suguru this time and his voice is raspy, the tone serious. 

‘’We’re sitting next to you silly!’’ Satoru beams, you notice his eyes glow more than usual, they have definitely been drinking. 

Once the table’s full and you come to face people whose names you don’t even know the first dishes are served. You don’t pay attention to what’s going on around you, the waiter has brought a wine and you are eyeing it up, praying someone makes the move and starts filling up glasses. The china is carefully placed next to you, it reminds you of the cutlery arrangement with napkins your grandma used to do, unnecessary and useless.

‘’What’s with the face, pretty?’’ Satoru asks, you’re too sober for this. You’ll play nice though, you need a glass.

‘’Could you pass the bottle, please?’’ You turn to look at him. It’s Suguru who brings it for you. 

‘’Here, let me.’’ He pours it more than halfway, it’s like it weighs nothing on his wrist as you quickly gulp down a large sip.

They are having a conversation but it’s hard to listen when you’re in the middle, you can’t focus on what either is saying and find it exhausting to turn your head each time one of them speaks. 

‘’I was just saying…she’s too distracted and can’t spell. I can’t keep spell checking her emails. She literally has one job.’’ Satoru sighs, Suguru listens.

‘’Have you tried talking to her about this? Maybe she can try harder, you just have to motivate her. You were the one that helped her the most last week. Do you know what she told me? That she appreciated you for staying after hours and correcting her.’’

‘’We all know she wants to fuck me.’’ Satoru playfully counters.

‘’That’s disgusting.’’ It’s your turn to speak up. Wine may be nice, but the conversation’s once again appalling. You contemplate whether Greg stripping on a bar piss drunk would be a better alternative.

‘’She’s right, Satoru.’’ You turn to look at him. ‘’More wine, perhaps?’’ Who are you to say no?

A glass that turned to two and eventually three has you slouched down, your legs open under the table, you’re feeling dizzy and you already left for the bathroom once in hopes some alcohol could get off your system (Suguru had to show you but then got up to guide you, you felt oddly…light-headed). This doesn’t feel right. No, the room doesn’t spin like in the movies. But yes, your vision blurs your surroundings, people across the table seem to be fading away, there’s noise, so much noise. Hey! Pull yourself together, you’re not passing out. 

‘’I need to go get some water.’’ You announce to no one in particular when you feel a hand on your waist.

‘’I think you need some air. Come on, let’s go outside.’’ It’s Satoru this time and he doesn’t tease. Suguru is there, you think, he still sits, you don’t really pay attention and the feeling of losing control scares you. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You do not need to be making yourself anxious right now, it only worsens the situation.

You have to say something. Say something.

‘’Sure. Let’s go.’’ 

 —

Up. You’re going up.

‘’Hey, why are we–’’

‘’Relax bunny, you’re getting your fresh air, don’t worry.’’

He steps out of the elevator and gives you his hand while you half stumble—he carefully guides you to a singular door. It’s a penthouse suite, you assume as he unlocks the door and you’re met with city lights. An open window, a disgustingly large bed to your right, a kitchen, bar or something of the sort (both) to your left and there must be a jacuzzi outside—you can’t make out the details. Your head hurts, your vision is blurry as you feel a wave of uncertainty.

‘’What are…what are we doing here?’’ You ask him, he can only smile.

‘’We’re getting you some air bunny.’’ Bunny. Why is he calling you that? You hate his pet names. 

‘’Don’t,’’

‘’Come on.’’ He pushes you towards the window as you feel your feet drag you to the view. 

‘’Isn’t it pretty?’’ His voice rings behind you, it’s soft and you’re still dizzy. 

‘’W-water. Do you have water?’’ You ask him, your throat is dry and you can sense his feet shifting. 

‘’Don’t need any. Do you see it?’’ He points across. ‘’I’m planning to move the office. This is where we’ll be working.’’ He shows you past the skyline, the buildings must have more than 30 stories, but counting was never your strong point, especially in the moment.

He’s closer now, his chest touches your back as you feel him on your nape, he peppers kisses down the rigid base of your neck. 

‘’What are you...’’

‘’Bunny,’’ he whispers, ‘’always so cautious, aren’t you? Gonna kiss you a bit and you tell me how it feels, yeah?’’ He coos as he presses another kiss lower. Is it on your jaw? You can’t tell, you feel like you’ll fall backwards but he catches you, strong chest touches your weakened spine as arms wrap around your waist. He’s toying with your dress, tugging it up and down as he continues. It feels good, you feel feather light, a different type of intoxicated, what had they put in this wine? A grunt leaves his lips when you get louder.

Fuck, what about the rest? What is Greg even doing right now? Who is Greg? You can’t think. He stops and you feel empty, your neck burns from the warmth of his mouth. 

‘’Satoru...’’ You breathe out, his arms strongly pinning you on him, you can feel something hard on your back, you shut your eyes. 

‘’More.’’ You hear yourself say. 

‘’Anything for my bunny.’’ 

It’s instantaneous, when you’re laid out on the bedspread, this could probably fit more than five people, and he has your dirty dress removed leaving you with your stained from need panties and no bra. His hair is the only thing discernible in the low lighting, that and his eyes illuminating the outside. His saliva falls down your nipples, on which he sucks interchangeably, hardened from the way he swirls his tongue around and bites, your hands are in his hair as his body parts your legs. You whine and he has to hide a groan, the result of his dick rubbing against the cashmere mattress. 

‘’Satoru-’’ You whisper. 

‘’Let me kiss my bunny, okay?’’ His tongue darts across your belly, and finds your underwear, deftly removed and thrown while he dives straight in, tongue lapping at your lower lips, gliding inside your smeared, sticky cunt and fucking you in and out. His index brought to your clit, swollen while he circles and touches on the nerves and you jolt. 

‘’Mhm bunny’s wet?’’ It clings weird—the name, but with your eyes shut and pussy numb from pleasure there’s not much you can object to. Your thighs spasm, you’re sensitive, too sensitive and feel yourself achingly stimulated. Ache.

‘H-Hurts,’’ you whine, the way he decides to shove a finger in your entrance and fuck into your damp walls, you feel a pain on your clit, when he spits and sucks back on his own saliva, following the combination he has in mind. 

‘’No, it doesn’t.’’ He hums, and continues. You wrap your legs around his now tangled and sweaty hair, driving your cunt down his nose as you grind your hips on his mouth. His tongue stays flat against your drooling mess and one finger turns to two while you feel yourself come undone. Your clit throbs, but pain is nothing to what you’re currently feeling, your head’s about to explode from an ache that pierces your meninges but you cum regardless, yanking his head back then bringing his mouth on your clit as juices soak the bedspread. 

He groans to the sound of your sweet voice but it’s muffled because you use all the strength you have left to keep him on you, wishing to relish the temporary feeling of pure bliss instead of whatever bangs in your forehead. He decides it’s enough. 

‘’Did so well bunny.’’ He too, is a bit out of breath, before he gets up, sporting a tent visible in the dark as he undoes his tie. 

‘’Ready for some more fun?’’ He smiles, it’s not a smile you can decipher, you conclude you can never read him. 

‘’W-what…no, Satoru. Wanna go…’’ You need a painkiller. And your bed. 

‘’Oh baby, the fun’s not over. Not even for you.’’ It’s not bunny, but you don’t notice. 

He is closer now, the tie…where is his tie? Right, he’s using it to wrap it around your eyes, tying it firmly before you can even protest. Dark. It’s dark. Of course it’s fucking dark but you don’t like it. You are already dizzy and mildly intoxicated would be an understatement from the buzz you’re experiencing.

‘’Take it off.’’ You beg. You don’t order, even though it’s not a question. 

‘’What is this?’’ It’s you again and it’s louder this time.

‘’Let me close the door one second, yeah?’’ Your question is completely ignored as you hear a faint clicking sound. Movement, there’s movement and then he’s back on your ear.

‘’Now, are you ready, bunny?’’ You can decipher the smile this time. 

—

‘’Where are-’’

‘’Shh I’m right here.’’ His voice echoes as you feel something stiff against your cooling entrance, the contact is hot and you suddenly want to scream.

‘’Satoru I told you I wanna-’’

‘’Enough, bunny.’’ It’s weird, you can’t pinpoint the sound, it's too dark, so dark that it makes you concentrate more on the pain inside your head, multiplying by the minute as your breath is suddenly knocked out of your chest. 

“Agh! Sato–”

His cock prods at your entrance and you gasp. It’s nothing but a painful stretch and a feeling of fullness. Big. He’s big and you want to shout. 

‘’Shit, that’s right.’’ His arms must be pinned to your sides as he slides his cock deeper, not having moved a lot and then pulls it out. 

‘’Keep steady.’’ He orders and starts thrusting inside you—you feel him deep within.

‘’Satoru…’’ You want to tell him to stop, want to tell him to get off you, but the more he’s stuffing your cunt, the more labored your breathing becomes and you fail to find the words. You think your heart’s beating faster than it should, no, it’s not excitement, no, it’s not how well he buries himself to the hilt, even though he does. It’s fear, it’s pitch black and you can’t even see him—can’t even see his expressions or what’s going on. Absolute darkness that makes your eyes hurt. 

‘’S-stop..’’ You whine as he’s becoming harder, spearing his cock inside, somewhere along the way you feel him hit pleasurable spots, his thumb, fuck, it must be his thumb and it’s on your puffy clit. But it still fucking hurts, you can’t—

‘’That’s it. Such a good bunny.’’ You can swear he’s there, but he’s not where he’s supposed to be. Not where the sound should be coming from, you bring your hands to his arms, strong and fastened on the bed, trying to trace a sign, his face but he pulls away. Soon enough, they’re removed from beside you, pinning your arms closer to your head as a groan slips past his lips. It’s lower, it’s deeper. 

‘’S-sato—agh Satoru!’’ You beg, ‘’wait–what is–”

‘’Sucking him in so well, aren’t you bunny?’’ He’s there. But he’s not inside you. Then who is? What the fuck is going on?

‘’W-what…who is this?’’ You cry out and it’s muffled, a hair strand falls on your chest, Satoru doesn’t have long hair. 

‘’Let me go.’’ He buries himself without mercy in your dampened walls.

‘’Don’t be naughty bunny, Satoru—he might…punish you.’’ It’s Suguru, and his voice is exactly where it’s supposed to be. Above you, the one filling up your cunt while Satoru must be to your left, groaning and moving around. 

‘’Get off me.’’ Stop. Please. You beg, your already shut eyes start spilling water on the mattress while you get louder.

‘’Get off, fuck!’’ But he—no, they don’t stop. Suguru’s on your ear, softly groaning while he pistons his hips forward, his cock as if bigger by the minute, stretches you out and you take it, it’s not a thing you can stop. You can hear the squeaking sounds as well as your own voice in between grunts. 

‘’Satoru shut her up.’’ He sweetly whispers, while he sucks a spot on your neck. 

‘’N-no..stop, get off, Satoru–’’

‘’You’re right, bunny’s getting annoying.’’ 

You’re about to use whatever voice you have left but it’s not fast, a thick cock is shoved down your throat—Suguru never stops his pace. It’s loud. It’s their moans filling the room, fucking you interchangeably, like a disposable fleshlight, and you cry while you feel heat below, where there shouldn’t be. You can’t breathe, the more you cry, the more you worsen the stabs in your head and your throat hurts because Satoru plunges himself deeper towards your palate. 

“Bunny thought–thought you weren’t worth the spot, agh, shit that’s right..” 

“Mhm, yeah?” Suguru slams with vice, while Satoru’s hands are covering your ears in an attempt to suck him in deeper. You must be parallel to the bed frame, it’s the only way Satoru’s still standing with Suguru being coated in your sloppy mess.

“Fuck, keep pushing, makes her tighter.” It’s raspy but you can’t tell who it is. 

It’s a lose-lose situation, when you think about it, but there’s no time when you’re clamping down on Suguru and Satoru viciously drives his cock deeper and deeper, making you slurp and gulp reflexively, as he groans to the gagging sounds. 

Suguru cums first, circling your clit while you try to scream but it reverberates on Satoru, who grunts ecstatic, spit falls down your body—still being filled up by Suguru, who’s determined to get you to cum on his cock, desperately circling around your clit and still hard. You feel yourself tighten and soon enough, you jerk. It’s unpleasant, moaning out like you want this, and you hate it. You hate being there. Being a toy. Being someone they know. You hate yourself for trusting, giving anyone a chance. You don't stop crying when you cum on Suguru’s cock yet his friend decides to show mercy by simultaneously pulling out.

‘’Stop!’’ You plead but it’s incoherent and confined, your first chance to breathe like a human, while a palm is brought on your mouth. 

‘’But you did so well, just tone it down.’’ Satoru’s out of breath—you can’t distinguish what he’s doing, that’s before Suguru laughs and Satoru’s voice is somewhere above you. Or so you think. 

‘’Shit...might cum. Bunny you’re so hot, you know that?’’

‘’D-don’t–’’ Don’t what. Who knows, no one listens. 

‘’She’s ready, Satoru.’’ Suguru’s voice rings further away, where is he? The tie. The fucking tie. If only they’d just take it off. 

‘’No! Please!’’ 

‘’Gross. Not after your mess. Gotta go easy on her.” 

Satoru’s voice sounds strained, he’s on top as you try to move but it must be Suguru who pins you down this time.

‘’At least let Satoru enjoy this, bunny.’’ He scolds and Satoru groans.

‘’Play with her.’’ He breathes out. Suguru has to be the one on your mouth, kissing you lightly before he bites your jaw, slapping your nipple and leaving wet kisses. And he continues, you feel paralyzed and shutting your eyes helps with nothing at this point. You can still feel the entirety of it. 

You hurt and you beg but neither listens, it must be ages before Satoru finally lets out a louder moan and you feel something sticky coating your chest and falling down your belly button. 

‘’Right there...so pretty. Perfect bunny.’’ Suguru's smiling too, you’ve learnt to discern expressions by the tone—Satoru breathlessly smears liquids around your swollen tits. You shudder.

‘’Look at that, Suguru. Pretty and all ours.’’ He manages after a while while you remain motionless on the bedspread, your chest heaving the only indicator of vitality. 

‘’Clean her up?’’ One of them talks, who it is doesn’t matter anymore; it doesn’t make a difference. 

‘’Later. Want to admire this.’’ Someone smiles. The blindfold’s still on but you can read the tones very well now.

—

On Monday you don’t show up. On Tuesday either. By Wednesday, you gulp down a cocktail of medication and show up wearing a mask, to do paperwork. It’s for you this time and it’s the standardized resignation documents. You need the project manager informed, it's in the company bylaws. There’s not much to explain and there’s not much you’ve told either. Doctor looked down on you while showing up with a bruised throat and neck, your balance hardly restored from the excessive darkness and drugging, it was definitely drugs. How you found your way back home was not something you can vividly remember. 

Knocking on his door and there’s no sound. But then…he’s there. Blue eyes squinting as the documents fall on the ground, an acidic taste envelops your mouth before you try to leave. But he is also there when you stumble. Where did he come from? Suguru smiles as he picks them up, making you stand straight and closing the door behind you. A single hair strand touches your arm and you flinch.

‘’Bunny, what is this?’’ Satoru asks. 

‘’Stop fucking calling me that.’’ Where is the manager? Why the fuck are they there? Police? What would they have done? Console you and pat you on your back, ‘’you knew what you were expecting, leading on guys like that,’’ or some victim blaming mantra. Anyone within the firm? With both being highly acclaimed and connected? Your friends? The guilt was demoralizing enough to not admit this to a relative. Who wouldn’t pity your debauchery? Poor girl got what she should’ve expected.

‘’Don’t tell me you’re resigning, bunny.’’ Satoru frowns, as he stands up. ‘’Didn’t they tell you? I was promoted!’’ Life was never designed fairly. 

You don’t want to see him, thoughts of him falling down the 20-story building, splattered in blood flash before your eyes. You’ve come to regret seeing. 

‘’And if you go? Where to? You know Suguru talked the rest out of it. Unfriendly, neglecting responsibilities, all that. We want you here, we thought you were smart.’’ Satoru scolds, as if you’ve stolen a colleague’s candy bar from the kitchen. 

‘’Bunny, don’t do this. We think you’re our best asset.’’ Suguru’s softer, you want to vomit.

‘’Stop fucking calling me that.’’ You break slowly, your vision darkens, not again, you think. You’re being handed a glass of water, you don’t take it, one would think you know better, but do you really? 

“We like you, bunny.” For the first time, he isn’t lying.

He always wanted a bunny. Ever since the last one died anyway. Satoru liked bunnies. Unpredictable in a way, strong-willed but shy. Problem was, they fell into traps too easily. Always overpowered by someone else, a fox maybe, smarter or just more sly. He could make use of that. 

As for Suguru? He never had a pet. 

[okiroash]

what do you think were red's motivations for leaving to mt. silver?

A lot of reasons,,!!!! I'll list them..

The fame that came from being a champion, becoming that of a young celebrity... having the media follow your trail, tracking everything you do, trying to get their chance to have an interview with you (even when you're in your own home)... borderline stalking, it's terribly scary to happen to someone.. let alone an 11 years old kid who isn't much of a people person

A headcanon I have is that red had been bullied and left out from groups in his early childhood, the feeling of alienation never left him, turning into a champion has completely make him feel even lonelier than ever before... the way people would hail him as a legend, some sort of- concept of strength.. a figure to strive as, a hero who can never show struggle or much emotions, pretty much dehuminizing him.. (this is.. based off the adoration from the ingame dialogues + how a lot of irl fans treats him)

So when he shows a side that's different from people's idealized version of him, bad rumors spread and it's just awful, to be hearing that in whispers as you walk pass them

Another thing is champion's responsibility... because the previous champions have been adults they can do league work just fine, but red's a kid so... while good thing he doesn't have to do most of the work, he still have to attend meetings (which he hates it because he ends up learning about corruption and shit about kanto) he also have to be on standby within the champion room- for far too long than he would like.. makes him feel like he's inside an enclosure, nothing new ever comes, not even a window to look out

The third reason as to why he left is.. to protect the people who are close to him... his mom has to constantly deal with refusing down intervierwers, leftover team rockets grunts have a grudge against him and he have seen what they're capable of.. he cares about his family a lot..

And.. lastly.. the face blue made when he defeated him in the last battle... oak coming to the room to scold him only made things worser.. it never left him, red felt so much guilt

You can see how red doesn't feel at home anywhere anymore.. not with the media.. not with everything.. can't take a proper break, after numerous overwhelming days he took off to mountain silver in the middle of the night..

[hesperidia]

tbh i really want Atsushi to be the one that gets transferred into the PM. Not only bc he would be an important asset for Mori and not only for the sskk potential content. But because the latest arc wasn't very focused on him, and i also want the PM cast to have the spotlight for a second.

(Them interacting with Atsushi seems the best way to do that + it'd be interesting to see Atsushi's pov in an organization that does not care about principles and justice, with dynamics so different to the ada).

I'd like to see Atsushi befriending Chuuya, HIM BEFRIENDING HIGUCHI (this would be the funniest thing ever but if it actually happens it would be done very badly because it might turn out as a "jealousy" competition over Akutagawa) But think about it: Higuchi has a little sister she cares for and that's the reason she's in the mafia, Atsushi has Kyouka. They could be the poor underlings that have to be under Aku's command at first and have to put up with his nonsense. There's so much potential for bonding between them i could go on.

It would also be an opportunity to see more of KOUYOU (+ Kouyou thanking Atsushi for taking care of Kyouka pretty please??)

Plus, Mori canonically has some kind of an interest in Atsushi. If we remember chapter 15-16 he gives him advice when they get out of Anne's room (when he didn't have to at all).

Bonus situation i'd like to see: Someone pointed out that both Mori and Atsushi both like chazuke, so imagine Mori recruiting him and treating him to some chazuke like a mirror image of when he was recruited into the ADA by Dazai. But this time in a way that's off. that's uncomfortable and feels so wrong to him.

[crystallllines]

my god churro is the lone woman performing amid a bunch of men saturday night

what a brave girl! ugh i’m so proud of her and also fuckin terrified that i’ll hate the set. it’s supposed to be edgy humor, so i’ll just brace myself to expect what i hear from josh on the regular, i guess. but churro also said she was doing a couple jokes about our grandfather (the bad one), and frankly THAT makes me worried about how i’ll respond to someone making jokes about… about what? what he did? the trial? my god, charity was just a little baby when all of that happened.

i want tomorrow night to be about her, though, not about how i feel about someone making light of an ordeal that tore our family apart and hurt so many people i love— including churro— you know? so, like, while i was definitely encouraged to only ever look upon that issue with the utmost seriousness (you have to be serious if you’re testifying in a criminal trial, uh, helloooo), i will do my best to have a sense of humor about it

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[neochan]

≡ 𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒! (𝟏𝟖+)

「 MEMBERS 」 ⋮ mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin, lee haechan, zhong chenle, park jisung

≣ content warning ⋮ perverted, depraved, & taboo thoughts, nerd!mark, cnc / dubcon, innocence stealer!chenle, somnophilia, mentions of weed usage as a form of coercion, too strong!jeno, manhandling, rough!jeno, degradation, religious sacrilege, corrupt church boy!jaemin, slight humiliation, corruption, ra!renjun, manipulative!renjun, cocaine usage.

≣ a.note ⋮ i'm smoking weed and listening to old hiphop, what else was i supposed to do other than write these cute little perv drabbles :) give me a like, a follow, or a reblog.

⩩ mark lee ⋮ so what if he's a 'nerd'. he doesn't care if you make fun of him in class with all your friends. he shrugs it off like no big deal. it really wasn't a big deal, until you brought up his dick size. see, mark isn't one of those guys whose ego gets shot from small dick jokes. but when the joke leaves your pretty little mouth, well something shifts in the pit of his stomach. he still shrugs it off though, until you're walking home from class, skirt swishing back and forth just barely covering the swell of your ass. good little girls should know better... it was easy, really. clamping a hand over your lips puckered in a silent scream. and then to drag you back to his car. oh, it was so, so easy. in fact, you really wanted it. the way you spread your legs, revealing a patch of arousal on the seat of your lacy panties. how you willingly helped him slip them to the side. the way you moaned his name when he slid into your puffy cunt, tits pressing against his chest and eyes locked on his. you begged for him to keep going. for him to go harder. so he did. again, and again, and again. until you could barely walk when he dumped you outside the front of your dorm. but sure enough, you stayed quiet in class the next day...

⩩ huang renjun ⋮ renjun has an addiction. it's not porn - not technically. it's not cocaine, or nicotine. he's not an alcoholic, yet still, he felt the withdrawal all too much. he was addicted to you. or, your body, rather. he dreamed of it, hands reaching up to cup your tits, cock sunk deep in your pussy, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth as you lost yourself on him. and when he woke up, aching and hard, he had no choice but to pathetically jerk off to the remnants of the memory. he thought about putting cameras in your room, maybe the womens showers, to capture you. something he can have as a keepsake of this obsession. see, he had access. he was your resident advisor. he could do that. but then he found out from a little birdie that his star resident in room two oh twelve used her daddies money to buy coke off her dealer boyfriend. see that...that was the key. all he had to do was used that as bait to convince you. and he did. one night, at a stupid party he was supposed to shut down, he saw you snort a line off the living room table. next thing he knew, you were upstairs, tears welling in your eyes, pleading with him not to tell. you would do anything. anything.

⩩ lee jeno ⋮ really, his strength was his best asset. but he's never had someone put up this much of a fight. seriously, after one good hair pull and a hand around the throat, girls usually let up. but you... you were fun. you were a challenge. you push back, hands slapping against his chest to combat him. all he does is snarl and shove harder, pressing your back against the kitchen counter. his biceps flex with the exertion of grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the marble. you thrash around still, until he twists your body so sharply, you cry out. he chuckles, "god i love you." he presses his stiffening cock against you, circling his hips to gain some sort of friction, "feel that? you're driving me crazy." a few half-hearted attempts at getting free does nothing for you, instead, it spins you around so now your chest was pressed flat against the cold surface. he transfers your wrists into one giant hand, and uses his other to yank down your bottoms. "...and you're soaked. fuck, y/n. gonna give you what you need. gonna fuck this stupid attitude outta you, yeah?" your walls flutter around his uninvited fingers, "ahhh, you like that, you sick fuck. want me to fuck you into submission. make you a real good girl for me. gonna train you to take me, and only me." he doesn't even feel you resist anymore, because you give up. you let him use your body until he's spent, and even then, you let him use your mouth. anything for him. anything for jeno.

⩩ na jaemin ⋮ he wasn't a god. but at this moment, with his entire world peering up through wet lashes, on bruised knees...well, he surely felt like one. it didn't help that he stood overtop your broken figure on the edge of the alter. he caresses your jaw and gives you a smile full of pearly white teeth that gleam in the stained glass shadows, "speak." with tears welling in your eyes at the command, it takes a second, but eventually your hoarse voice echoes out, "forgive me father for i have sinned." you see, jaemin wasn't a priest, but he took your confessions as if he was one. he wanted you to bare your soul to him. your perverted, depraved, sick thoughts. he doesn't speak though, just cocks an eyebrow and crouches down so that he was eye level. you continue, "i-, this is so...embarrassing, gosh, i don't..." he gives your jaw a squeeze, making the words tumble out, "i did it again. i... i touched myself again..it's wrong, i- i know, but he, you...plague my mind." your voice quiets the longer his gaze burns into you. but nothing compares to the image that burns brighter in his mind. your innocent fingers slipping between plush thighs, jaemin being the temptation you couldn't withstand. it made him feel fucking good. "it's okay darling, god forgives you, i forgive you..." he stands up again and reaches a hand down to toy with the buckle of his belt, "but with sin comes punishment." he undoes the latch and slowly slips it from the belt loops of his dress pants. the sound makes you flinch, a whisper escaping your pouted lips, "oh god." heat surges through his veins, almost bringing him to his knees, "no angel, i'm not god. i'll be more forgiving than any god. i'll be gentle, i'll liberate you from all sin. i'll make you good. my darling, i'll make you pure again."

⩩ lee haechan ⋮ yeah, he did it on purpose, so what. technically, he didn't force you to inhale, he simply stuck the blunt between your fingers and called it a day. admittedly, you did exactly what he wanted, but he chalked that up to good luck, and the devil on his side. watching you slowly revert to a rambling, squirmy mess made his cock stir in his jeans. and when you got all cuddly, snuggling up to his chest and dragging him closer, well, what else was he supposed to do other than stick his tongue in your mouth and push you back against the arm of the couch. you came on to him, really. either way, the night led with his tongue down your throat, and his hand up your skirt. and still, when he pushes your panties to the side and slips a finger into your cunt, his suspicions are confirmed. your arousal dripped down his wrists, a testament to how much you truly wanted him. really, he was doing you a service. an act of kindness. "be still baby" he growled, forcing your legs wider apart. you whimpered and whined, body holding still but head rolling on your shoulders. "hyuckie.." you kept mewling, and with each sound of his name, he grew harder and harder. it felt like he might burst if he didn't bury his cock in you right this minute. so he does. sloppily, because he was high too, but he does. and it's slow, and messy, and sick. and he loved every fucking second. god, he can't wait to do this to you, no, with you, again.

⩩ zhong chenle ⋮ stealing innocence, robbing naivety, corrupting purity... whatever people call that, chenle calls a normal everyday thought. he hasn't really fucked you yet, only teased you. he's coerced you into letting him touch your cunt, but only the soft skin on the outside. you've let him touch your breasts, but never the sensitive bud in the center. you also let him toy with your ass one time, but the second he tried to slip a finger inside, you pushed him off and told him to wait. nothing could happen before marriage. but chenle was tired of waiting. he was bored of watching you through the camera in the shower. sick of touching himself beside your sleeping figure - the only time he could shift your legs in your sleep to poke at your clothed cunt. just rubbing you through the satin material of your pajama bottoms got him off, but he needed more. this time, he was able to wriggle your shorts down around your ankles, and what a sight it was. oh he was gonna have so much fun. one finger, two fingers, his tongue, eventually working his way up to the tip of his cock. pushing in, not too much to make you stir... just enough to tease himself. you were so tight, so untouched. it was obvious he was your first, and it took everything in him to hold back. tomorrow night...tomorrow night will be the night he fucks you full, until you're leaking his cum. until you're his. ruined for him only.

⩩ park jisung ⋮ jisung hates how you think of him. not just you, but everyone really. see, he's not just the maknae. he doesn't want the baby voice, or the coddling, or the fucking head pats. if you really knew what he was capable of, maybe you'd think twice before treating him like a kid all the time. if you could see the way he fucks his fist, fingers twisted in the sheets of his bed, or knuckles jammed between his teeth... the things he thought about; you sitting on his cock, forced to take every inch of him, even when the tears well over the brim of your eyelashes. cunt full of his fingers while he sucked and nipped at your breasts. the bruises he'd leave on every inch of your skin. how he fantasizes about pushing you to the floor and stuffing his cock down your throat until you were thrashing for just a small breath of air. he doesn't get off on hurting you, no, he could never do that. but making you see just how much stronger he was.. how he could force you onto your knees, and rough you up a bit until your swollen lips screamed his name. well, maybe then you'd stop treating him like some dumb kid.

≣ taglist ⋮ @hykwrld-main @peachjaem00 @rainyjeno @be-my-sunrise @revehae

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion & Scratch: Compromising for Tav Affection

This idea is entirely from @nairil-daeris and it's so cute!

~

Despite what some may have believed, Astarion wasn't that against associating with animals. He was actually a fan of a few of them, cats mainly considering their penance for cleanliness and independence. Not to mention they were admittedly adorable. And stood as the one type of beast that Astarion never feasted upon.

So no, he didn't hate animals in principle. He only hated a select few, with reason. Like the type that could rip him apart with their claws and fangs. Or the ones that thought that rolling around in their own filth was a worthwhile pastime. All and all, creatures that Astarion didn't have to deal with on the regular. Or at least not until now.

But here he was, stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with his ragtag group of merry weirdos. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his own acceptance into your little group. He did, immensely. By the look of things out here in this hellscape, he probably would have been murdered ten times over if he had remained alone. Or gods forbid, become a goblin's chew toy.

So while he had no intentions of leaving, he was still frustrated. Especially with the pretty little druid that quickly became their de facto leader. Astarion had been vaguely aware that druids had an intense love for nature and all of its creatures. But that hadn't prepared him for how unreasonable that love could be. It felt as though you would take literally every opportunity you had to speak to any lowly pest on the side of the road.

Not to mention your insistence on taking care of a damned owlbear cub, which was an objectively stupid thing to do. Something that he should have fought you on harder but... he wasn't made of stone. The thing was objectively adorable. Even if it was almost certainly destined to grow up and try to kill you all, Astarion kept his mouth mostly shut.

But then came the dog. That god-damned dog. How a singular mutt could make his life so damn difficult, Astarion wasn't sure. But he did know that he was trying to enact a well-thought out plan. Seduce you, foster a protective affection that was strong enough for you to always want him alive, perhaps use you to defeat Cazador if the parasites proved strong enough, and then effectively abandon you for a new life of freedom.

It was all very simple, and he had gotten a great head start. You had spent the last few weeks flirting with each other, always staying close. You gravitated towards each other, a fact that felt more natural than Astarion would have liked. But... he had found himself enjoying his time with you, genuinely. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely a plus for his plan. Being with you was far from unbearable. You were attractive, sweet, a little angel just begging to be corrupted. A job that Astarion was growing excited to start.

He had been so, so close to fully propositioning you, completely confident that you would agree. And then Scratch happened. He hadn't thought much of it when you came across the little mutt. Maybe it would stay with the corpse of its owner or it would be another hanger-on like the owl bear. He hadn't had a horse in the race either way.

But then he did show up to the camp, looking so sad and dejected that even Astarion couldn't be bothered that his arrival completely interrupted his first attempt at asking you to bed. He had watched you pet and whisper to him for the rest of the night, providing a comfort that only a druid could.

Which was fine. Or at least it had been for that one night. That one night that kept repeating. Because suddenly, that damned dog was everywhere. The quiet nights the two of you had together by the fire, talking about anything and everything with your thighs pressed together now included Scratch squeezing himself into the middle.

The orchestrated moves he would do to make you blush, like removing a non-existent speck from your cheek with his thumb or leaning in close to remove a leaf from your hair, were getting harder and harder to pull off. The damned mongrel was always there, and any attempts Astarion took to get close to you Scratch used as an invitation to jump all over him. If he had it to wash his face of dog slobber one more time from the crime of trying to hold your hand, he was going to go ballistic.

And there was zero reprieve. The thing went with you everywhere, even in the most perilous of situations. Worst of all, it actually proved to be useful. Astarion had no idea where the thing was trained, but it was incredibly smart. Smart enough to serve as a perfect distraction when needed, while being clever and fast enough to never get himself killed. He could even function as a spy, considering how you could make sense of all of his whining and barking. And worst of all, the little beast was amazing at thievery, with nothing more than his mouth. No one suspected the adorable dog to be the one stealing your coin purse right off of your belt. He was completely inconspicuous, perhaps even more so than Astarion. A fact that... was not sitting well.

How on earth was he being outclassed by a fucking dog? One that he had no valid arguments to leave behind at camp.

And to top it all off, you even slept with it. You slept with both animals, usually huddled up in a pile beneath the stars. How you managed to not stink of dog breath and owlbear saliva in the morning, Astarion would never know.

How was he supposed to make you fall for him like this? In the past two weeks since you'd attached yourself completely to the thing, doting on him constantly. He had only managed to sleep with you once. The night of the celebration over the goblin slaughter, and what a lovely night it had been. But that was only because Scratch and the cub had been sufficiently distracted by all of the enamored tiefling children. The next night it was back to the same.

And Astarion was not willing to let the night you had together go as a one night stand. Maybe it wasn't necessary. It had become clear that you cared for him, you cared for all of them. Enough to put yourself in danger for every party member's protection. A strong friendship would probably do him just as good as a romance. But... that didn't feel like enough. He didn't want it to be enough. For reasons that he was not going to start examining now.

No, for now he was just focused on getting past your slobbery bodyguard. But he knew better than to bring it up to you directly. You were far too infatuated with the pup to see his side of things.

Gale had made a singular comment on a slight frustration over having to wait around for Scratch to sniff nearly everything he came into contact with, and that had ended in you giving him a half-hour lecture on the importance of understanding one's surroundings. Shadowheart had mentioned, once, just once, that perhaps it was time to start looking for a more appropriate family for the dog, and that had led to you giving her the cold shoulder for days.

No, if he was going to get more time alone with you Astarion would have to try other means. Which had led him here, swinging back a Potion of Animal Speaking with a grimace. It tasted oddly grassy, like he had just swallowed blended up lawn shavings. But he didn't have time to grouse over the taste, not when you were thoroughly distracted with talking about druid mythology with Halsin, Scratch left conveniently alone to dig holes in the back of camp.

And that was where Astarion was going. Because if he couldn't reason with you, perhaps he could reason with the mutt itself.

Part of him could not quite believe that he had to resort to speaking with a dog to further this relationship, but here he was.

Astarion stopped in front of him, swallowing back a grimace at how the thing was digging dirt directly on his shoes. Instead, he smiled down at it, his voice only slightly strained when he asked, "Can you understand me?"

Scratch stopped his digging, opting to sit and stare up at him, an oddly humanoid voice answering, "Yes."

Huh, so that's how this spell worked. It was a little disconcerting to hear a human voice from a dog's mouth, but he would make do. Astarion cautiously sat next to him, perching on a nearby log as he tried to keep a pleasant smile on his face, "Good. How are you?"

Scratch stared at him, his head cocked, "The dirt tastes good here. I like that."

That was... Astarion didn't know. It was his own fault for trying to make small talk with an animal. He cut straight to the point, "That's great to hear. Now, would you mind doing me a favor tonight?"

Astarion had never had a dog narrow its eyes at him before, but that's exactly what Scratch did, "What is it?"

"Nothing serious," Astarion tried to reassure, "I was just hoping that perhaps you and the cub could sneak off for a night so Tav and I could spend some time together-"

"No," Scratch interrupted circling the ground three times before laying down, his eyes still on Astarion.

"Excuse me?" Astarion shot back, his true annoyance shining straight through his voice, "It's not exactly much to ask for! It's one night-"

"I don't trust you around them," The dog said simply, "I think you're going to hurt them."

Well that was just offensive. Ever since this little brat's arrival Astarion had barely had a chance to drink from you. And the times he did he was perfectly in control. Not including the first time of course.

"I'll have you know that not every vampire is some hellish demon with no self-control," Astarion bit out, only the slightest bit amused at himself for being reduced to defending his own disgusting kind, "And why pray tell, would I hurt one of the only reasons I'm still alive."

Scratch shook his head, one eye closed like this conversation was boring him, "Not that kind of hurt. The inside kind, that makes people cry. I don't want them to cry."

That was-Astarion didn't-how in the hells could a dog see through him that easily?

"I have no intention of hurting them," Astarion lied. Or at least he thought it was a lie. It felt... uncomfortably true when spoken allowed, "I just want to have a little fun, that's all. Don't you think they've earned that?"

"Not with you. You don't like them enough," Scratch sighed, "I like Gale more. Or Wyll. Karlach too. They can have fun with them instead."

That was it. Astarion was going to wring this little shit's neck. But before he could give into his more violent impulses, he could hear your voice, calling out to the current root of all of his problems.

Scratch bounded up, his tail already wagging as he started to trot over. But before he fully did he turned around, giving Astarion a once over, "If you can prove you like them, then I'll consider it."

And just like that he was off, running to your side while leaving a stunned Astarion in his wake. Did... did he just get verbally annihilated by a damn dog? How was he supposed to go on after this? Not to mention he was actually thinking about what the creature said. It sounded like a challenge, one that Astarion was suddenly pissed enough to take up.

If the little shithead wanted sincerity, then he would get it. And that's how Astarion found himself willingly opening up more. Even if it had to be in front of the damn dog. He told you more about Cazador, the horrors and tribulations he had endured through centuries. He told you of his regrets, the things he missed the most about being a mortal. He even told you the truth about that first night that you let him drink from your neck. That... that you were the first. How good it had felt to have what he had been denied for so long. And he was rewarded with his honesty. He got to learn more and more about you in turn. Your family, your home, where you incessant love for nature derived from. He was starting to slowly become a Tav-expert, suddenly hungry for every bit of information that he could procure.

They were long conversations, long enough to last well into the night. And for Astarion to be exhausted enough to just... fall asleep in the first available location. Which just so happened to always be in the pile of creatures you liked to sleep with. Though, Astarion had to admit after experiencing it himself, it was oddly pleasant to be surrounded by the warm, furry little headaches.

As for the two of you, things were slowly progressing in regards to his plan. A plan that he continually kept conveniently forgetting about. You were together now at the least, even if Scratch hardly ever let you have a night alone. But you cuddled and kissed, called each other pet names and the like. And... it was nice. Perhaps even too nice. Because Astarion was starting to... feel things that he'd prefer to not.

He was getting too attached, too close. The idea of sex didn't even seem to matter anymore, let alone the idiocy of trying to convince a dog to help him in that department. He was knowing too much of you, and the fact that he seemed to adore everything he saw only made it worse. And then the two of you managed to kill that demon, getting more and more information about Cazador. You risked so much for him, and were willing to risk so much more. He couldn't take it anymore.

He had told you the next night, everything. His plan, his past, how easy it was to revert back into new tricks. But he didn't want that with you. Maybe he never did. He wanted something real, and by the gods above you wanted the same thing. He had half expected you to dump him completely after that little speech. But... you didn't. Instead you hugged him, comforted him for trying and failing to betray your trust. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, but one that he would gladly accept.

Everything felt easier after that. Yes there were still countless horrors hanging over your heads but... he had you. And with you he was starting to think he could get through anything.

Even Halsin's insistent flirting. He was watching you both now as you helped him nurse a dying sapling to health, his eyes tracking Halsin's every move as he pretended to read. While he trusted you more than anything, fully aware that you would never stray, it didn't stop the paranoia. Just one other aspect of being in a real relationship that he hadn't seen coming. Turns out, it involved being terrified of losing it all. Especially to handsome, bulky elf druids.

But before he could fret over it any longer, he felt a tugging on his pant leg. He glanced down, his brow furrowing when he saw Scratch there, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out.

"What the hell do you want?" Astarion asked, his words completely unmatching his actions as he scratched him behind the ears. Don't get him wrong, he still at least semi-loathed the creature but... he's also not quite sure he would have gotten to this point without his intervention. So a reluctant appreciation for his existence it was.

Scratch continued to paw at his leg, a low whine in his throat as he cocked his head to the right. Astarion followed the motion, only getting more confused when he realized he was trying to point to another potion.

Astarion sighed as he picked it up, “What? You want me to understand a new dressing down speech?”

Scratch continued to wag his tail, letting out a happy bark as a confirmation. As much as Astarion would prefer to not spend an evening getting lectured by a dog, he was more than a little curious to see what he had to say. 

He swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste as he wiped his mouth, “Okay, out with it. What do you want?”

"I like you now," Scratch said excitedly, prancing back and forth in front of him, "And they like you too. Do you like them?"

In moments like this, Astarion really did wish he had the heart of stone that he pretended to carry. Because the unexpected approval from a random pup was suddenly making him feel almost teary eyed. Or it was the bitter taste of the potion, but either way the innocent words were making his heart ache pleasantly. 

Astarion swallowed, smiling down at him, “I like them very much. More than anyone before. And I’m starting to think you might not be so bad either.”

Scratch sat in front of him, resting his head in his lap as his tail wagged, a goofy smile on his adorable face, “It’s because I’m a good boy. They tell me so all the time. Are we friends now? We are right?”

“Yeah,” Astarion smiled as he ran a hand through his white coat, his eyes drifting over to you. You were watching them, grinning ear to ear with a hand over your heart, nearly moments away from swooning. He looked back down at the dog, his smile only widening, “We’re going to be great friends.”

[yuki-world]

那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH

summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words

a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

neuvillette is not amused.

he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.

but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.

“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”

“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.

look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.

but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.

the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.

its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.

“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”

the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.

“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”

“i think that’s enough, y/n.”

at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.

it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.

neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”

he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.

“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.

he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.

“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.

he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.

you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.

“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”

you’ve… seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”

“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.

“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,” he tells you.

he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.

“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.

“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.

you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.

you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.

“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.

he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.

this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.

“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”

neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”

his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.

he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.

and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?

he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.

“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”

what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”

he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.

he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.

neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.

“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”

“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”

you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”

“but?”

“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”

“i see. i will gladly indulge.”

ー @yuki-world

[llamagoddessofficial]

How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?

Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.

If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.

Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.

... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.

He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.

Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.

If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?

Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.

The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.

He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.

[inez-winchester-cameron]

cw: dark!rafe x agegap!reader, ten year age gap (29 and 19), abuse lowkey, orgasm denial, degradation, no aftercare, daddy kink, misogyny

note: ngl im a sucker for a good age gap. added the abusive part in last minute. still taking regular or dark!rafe ideas :))

rafe never really grew out of his high school "phase". 10 years later he's still the same guy he used to be. loud, abrasive, angry, a frat boy. he still makes deals with barry and helps him sell his products.

you didn't even notice rafe wasn't your own age until you asked how old he was. him and topper still throw the same lavish parties and still invite all the kooks.

"hey sweetheart, can i get you a refill?" rafe asks with a sly smile, seeing your nearly empty cup.

"oh no i think i've had enough," you claim. you've always been a little bit of a good girl, always limiting yourself to one or two drinks and keeping the days you drink to a minimum. to this day, rafe makes sure you keep your alcohol content down in a sort of controlling way but in some fucked up way, you enjoy it.

rafe takes care of you almost as if he would a child, telling you what you can and cant do. if you can or cant eat something, and he goes as far to give you rules you need to follow and god forbid you break those rules, he'll have you over his knee (or if you really piss him off he'll slap you so hard your ears are ringing).

you'd be lying if you said rafe hasn't corrupted you. he has you tucked into his side as he deals drugs, has you trying all sorts of alcohol, and he has definitely corrupted you in the bedroom.

-

"remember how fucking innocent you used to be, whore?" rafe asked, holding your hips as he fills your tight pussy from behind, "had such a pretty virgin pussy and you let me ruin it..what a fucking slut."

"letting such an older guy fill your pussy..god imagine if your friends knew? youre such a fucking whore. them college guys cant fuck you as good as daddy can, huh?"

"r-rafe-! i-i " you whimper out, receiving a tug on your hair in response.

"what? spit out, slut."

"m gonna cum!"

rafe chuckles darkly and stops, laughing more when you whine. he pulls out, cumming on your ass, smearing it around a little.

"really thought daddy would let you cum? or fill you up? dirty whores dont deserve those things. try being a good girl again and maybe ill let you cum."

"but daddy-" you're cut off by a slap to the face. you whimper in pain.

"you know the rules. no whining. what daddy says goes, understood?"

you weakly nod, terrified.

"now clean yourself up and get me some dinner." rafe says, tucking himself away. he gives you a kiss on your cheek, a small show of affection before walking away. he leaves you shaking, scared, and wanting more.

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

---------------------------------------------------

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[limerenceheart]

yan! dr ratio and yan! aventurine

dr ratio and avenutrine wasn't exactly thrill on this arrangement.

ratio felt a little bit cheated since he found you first as ruan mei's assistant. the young scholar was there to welcome you with open arms when ruan mei fired you for gross misconduct. something that dr ratio might had started.

it was the perfect foundation for dr ratio to put everything into motion till a certain blonde got in the way. you was too oblivious to notice his love bombing, aventurine may be a sweet talker but he was never the sentimental type to give out flowers for a good friend of his.

dr ratio wanted to let out a scoff upon hearing that. if only you knew the truth. the thing is neither of them wanted you to know.

so the pair made a deal to protect you from the harsh truth of the world.

"aventurine kindly offered to fund our upcoming research project so we'll have to live together for a while and he will pop in regularly for updates."

you brought the lie too easily.

him and aventurine was doing you a favour by whisking you away from the outside world.

an innocent soul wasn't fit to be left alone.

the pair just hope that you would never caught on since they didn't want to corrupt you.

not at all.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hazbin Hotel Master List

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! I will write for pretty much any of the characters from this show.

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

List of Things I Won't Write

Requests are marked in pink

Series are marked in purple

Suggestive are marked in orange

NSFW are marked in red

ALASTOR

Make You Wish Master List -> Y/n has known Alastor since she first ended up in Hell. When he disappeared? She thought her life was over. Seven years have passed since then and slowly but surely, the 1950s housewife turned murderer has made a life for herself, full of good decisions and some bad ones. What will happen when Alastor turns back up again, sending the world as she has made it into chaos once again? Multi chapter fic.

Rhapsody Master List → Gn!Reader. Alastor and Y/n have been taking down the overlords of Hell together for years but Y/n has had a secret and Alastor knows it. They each go their separate ways because of this but what happens when years later their paths intersect once again. Loosely inspired by Raine and Eda in The Owl House.

Alastor Master List -> I have so many Alastor fics/one shots that they have their own master list now.

LUCIFER

Encore (Lucifer x Reader) → Lucifer went to the hotel wanting to talk to Charlie. Instead, he found the shy demoness who had been unable to meet his eyes the last time he’d visited on the stage.

I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Living!Addams family!Reader x Lucifer) → Y/n is bored and summons some demons. 

Lovely (Lucifer x Witch!Reader) → Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

VOX

Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's Ex!Reader x Alastor) → Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.

Unexpected (Vox x Fox Demon!Reader) → Vox tries to make a deal with one of Valentino’s girls.

Smudge (Vox x Gn!Partner!Reader) → Vox tries to figure out why Y/n, his partner of five months, refuses to kiss him.

LUTE

Music (Lute x Reader) → Y/n has been dating Lute for years. After her girlfriend gets home from the most recent extermination, she tries to talk to Lute about the person being around Adam makes her.

ADAM

Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely (Adam x Reader) → Y/n is a nephalem with ambitions and a need for entertainment. Adam is in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[februarybluues]

You spin my head around (like a record)

summary: hobie never believed in throwing his money away to useless big corporations. but, when you started working at his favorite record shop, he decided to make a small exception. warnings: slight flirting, terrible british a/n: i love this idea so so much and have many ideas for it so if you want a part 2 let me know!!!

If there was one thing hobie hated most, it was capitalism. Having to spend money on things you didn’t need but were marketed in a way that made you feel like you needed them, pissed him off to no end. Especially when it came to big corporations. He didn’t see the purpose of having to feed these ‘money-hungry pigs’, which would only end up causing harm to everything and everyone that got in their way. The only exception was small businesses. He never gave his money away on anything unless he desperately needed it, but that wasn’t often. Until it came to you.

There was a particular record shop in the middle of the city that he occasionally visited. Mainly because it was the only one near him that actually had his favorite artists. – which were rarely sold due to how ‘underground’ they were. Don’t get me wrong, he liked his fair share of mainstream, popular artists, he just also liked his fair share of small garage punk bands. The kind of small bands you’d find playing at your local pub. But, the point is: that specific record shop was the only one he actually liked. But, that didn’t change his hatred for capitalism. Which meant he wasn’t shy to ‘borrow’ a few cd’s, or vinyls from that shop. Actually, he hadn’t once paid for anything, and he’d never once been caught. That’s just how things were. He’d never planned to feed into society’s corrupt ideations. Never. He would continue to visit that record shop whenever he pleased, but never once considered buying anything. That is, until a new employee started working there.

They were perfect. The living embodiment of utter perfection. Every time Hobie entered the shop he was greeted by a sweet smile from behind the till. Everything that person did drove Hobie crazy. - in the best way imaginable. That person was you. You’d only recently gotten the job, around a few weeks ago. It was simple enough, but it definitely was not your dream job. You only got it because you needed the money, even though the pay was barely enough to get you going for the week, it was something! Despite never once having a proper conversation, Hobie knew he liked you. From your genuine, unrelenting kindness, to your style. He was fond of everything you did. And before he knew it, his occasional visits turned to him visiting whenever he could. Not because he wanted to actually buy anything, but because he wanted to see you. Any chance he got, he would rush straight over to you. It got to a point where he had memorised when you were working and when you weren’t. And now, here he was.

“Are you actually gonna pay this time?” you asked him, familiar with his habit of pocketing cd’s and vinyls and then leaving. You never did anything about it for many reasons. One of which was because you did not get paid enough to deal with it. And also, because he was insanely attractive. He laughed. Not like an actual laugh. But, a small exhale, similar to scoffing. “Maybe I am,” he said, handing you the vinyl. You smiled at him and scanned the record, noticing the familiar album cover. “Oh sex pistols!” you exclaimed, mentally taking note of how his music taste was almost as beautiful as he was. “You’ve got good taste.” you said, before putting the record in a bag. You didn’t notice how he lit up at the sudden compliment; freaking out on the inside, but playing it off well. “You listen to ‘em?” he asked, his heavy accent now very prominent. Your smile never once faltered as you looked back at him. “I love them!” you said. You began to hum the tune to one of their songs, doing a dramatic little dance, which earned a small laugh from him. “You know… It’s surprising that you’re actually buying something for once.” you commented, jokingly but also genuinely. He tilted his head to the side in response. “Oh yeah? How so?”  he leaned against the till, hands in his pockets as he talked with you. “Well, I see you here all the time. - Almost every time I'm working, actually. And - I guess I kinda got used to you wandering around and then leaving. It’s kind of weird how this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.” you laughed, and his lips quirked up in a small, almost unnoticeable smile. “What’s wrong with havin’ a look around?” his voice was low, and he spoke innocently. Despite the both of you knowing he was anything but innocent. “We both know you’ve been having a bit more than a look around.” you said, in reference to the many times you’d seen him ‘borrowing’ a few cd’s. He laughed this time. In truth, he cherished this moment. As it had been the first time he’d heard your voice. You were sweet, funny, and apparently had good music taste. All three of those traits were almost impossible to be found in the people Hobie had met. There was just something about you that was so different from everything else. So unique and-

“That’ll be 24.99” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 24.99? He repeated in his head, confused. He could’ve sworn that the price tag said 30? Had you given him a discount? For literally the first time ever, he handed the money to you and paid. He regretted a lot of things, but getting to talk to you was not one of them. You handed him the bag and smiled at him once more. Hobie then realised this would probably be the only time he’d ever interact with you again. In a panic, he spoke up again. “D’ya wanna spend time together after this? We could maybe listen t’the record? See if it was worth th’money?” While the usual confidence in his voice remained, there were hints of hesitation laced under his words. “I’d love to!” you exclaimed, blatantly happy. He smiled, now exposing his teeth. “Lovely.”

“I almost forgot–here’s my number!” you pulled out a pen from your pocket and wrote your phone number on the paper bag that you put his vinyl in; trying to make it as neat and legible as possible. Once you were happy with it, you handed it back to him. “I get off work at 6. Call me then and we can organise something, yeah?” you offered, to which he nodded. “It’s a date.” he said, and winked before turning around and exiting the shop; the jingling of the door suddenly sounded way happier than it usually did. Maybe your new job wasn’t so bad after all.

hey pookie just wanted to let u know my requests are opennn and you wanna request something sooooo badly so why don't you just go over there and send one in thanks love u hope you liked that little fic

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”