#omg anon?!!??!??!?

[sanstropfremir]

i actually knew that 5050 was going to happen because i auditioned for them,,,, their company had auditions earlier this year actually, i DIDNT know theyd debut this year though, they were supposed to debut n e x t year

HELLO!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

[tojisun]

the way you wrote simon “my cock is too big it won’t fit” riley was jaw dropping, eye-rolling, and heavenly!!!

I’m imagining Simon who finally puts it in and is even more desperate than reader (cue male whimpering audio)

awww thank u so much!! i had such intense need that i bonked my head n went, “yup. this is the horny thought for the day” <333

oh but he was always soooooo desperate, even more so than the reader!! especially before they finally fucked!!!

thinking about the way he fucks his fist every night after your date ends :((

while you were at your home, stuffing your hole with your fingers (and toys, really—your eyes having devoured the chub underneath simon’s pants every time you two would sit close together, snuggled as you watched a movie, before rushing home and putting in on an order for toys because god do you need one. or four…), simon was locked in his room, messily fisting his cock.

there is too much lube, and it is staining his boxers and his pants because he was too horny to even strip properly. he bites down his moans, hesitant to let them out even when he is alone at his safe house, his eyes pressed close as he imagines the way he'll take you: on your knees while he pinches your nipples, flicking the buds with the blunt ends of his nails, or on your back with your legs folded to your chest because there is no way in hell that simon's not going to breed you.

it's that thought that always makes him cum, rumbled groans pouring out like rippling water.

“jesus,” he murmurs as he stares at his cum-stained palm, mind running at the way you clenched-and-unclenched your legs during dinner—something, he notes, was happening more often. “this is torture.”

(simon has always known how you look good in your own desperation, ragged in the way you stare up at him with furrowed eyes and lips jutted into a pout, but there was something different then. it was charged. primal. and simon realized how the ache must have peaked for you.

good, simon thought. i need you just as much.)

he slid two fingers in your twitching hole, relishing in your stuttered moans at the ease of their plunge. the wet squelch made his cock jump, thumping against his thigh, but he wasn’t done.

it wasn’t enough.

(simon has had countless partners before you, just like you had others before him.

you told him of the dissatisfaction, how cocks only ever breached your walls for the pleasure of the body it was attached to and never for your own. you told him of your elation that bubbled into sputtering disappointment because they never knew how to coax an orgasm from you with just their cock. you told him of the accidental orgasms, those that they cannot recreate because it wasn’t intended. sure, you told him of their wonderful fingers or mouths, of their robust laps you were grinding on during those days when sex is more foreplay than the penetration, but it wasn’t what you ached for.

you told him all of this, in return, simon told you the others who could never really fit him. the others who tried but they were never really interested in the preparation. the others who could only take half of his length, hissing when an inch slides in even when it shouldn’t.

“impatient,” simon murmured when you asked why his ex-partners couldn’t fit him.

“and they don’t have that…” he trailed off, tongue heavy in his mouth.

“they don’t have what?” you prodded, blinking at him all so darlingly, your blood buzzed with alcohol.

“they don’t have that masochistic streak,” simon replied, voice gentle. testing.

your only reaction was a quiet gasp, heavy eyes widening a fraction as the words settled in. he watched as you began fidgeting, throat bobbing at your dry swallow.

that was all simon needed to know you are made for him—soul and body.)

the moment your greedy hole managed to gobble all of his four fingers was when simon knew you were ready. he flicked his eyes away from your dripping slit and watched as you laid on the bed twitching, your eyes red from your tears, your skin dotted with sweat.

you looked like a beautiful, hot mess and simon was ready to engulf you whole.

simon slots himself between your legs, fist warm around his flushed cock. your glazed eyes focus on him, watching with open-mouthed gasps, and simon coos, unable to stop himself.

“ready f’r me, pup?” he asks, tapping the head of his cock against your sensitive sex.

it makes you keen, hips squirming, mussing up the already soiled sheets. simon chuckles, heat filling his cheeks, and taps it once, twice, three more times before finally lining the leaking head of his cock against your twitching hole.

the slow press in makes you two moan, bodies locking at the explosion of ecstasy that fills up your senses. overwhelming pleasure quickly razes through him, overtaking his sanity as the wet squeeze of your walls grips him deliciously.

he buckles, muscles liquifying, and the dizzying euphoria makes him stumble. he slips, his cock sliding in deeper, breaching further—

simon whimpers, unable to stop himself as unadulterated bliss grips him. he couldn’t help it: he sinks all of himself in you, your walls not even protesting as they swallowed him in, hungry in the way you are all filled up by him.

“si-!” he hears your delirious squeal, the rumble of your voice scratching into a ragged echo, and simon—

simon gurgles a response.

his mind has been zapped by the peaking high, rendering him unable to string coherent thoughts as all of his synapses sing nothing but the enveloping pleasure, running him on overdrive.

simon feels like he is being devoured. like he is stripped into nothing but his sensitive spots.

“t-too good,” he mewls. “pup, s’too good–”

[beforeimdeceased]

ellie hitting it from the back and you're just completely in subspace, taking everything's she's giving you completely blissed out and brainless:))

nsfw! — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

omg the way she’d be fucking you so good you’d only be able to see stars. you’ll actually be drooling and brain dead like a cock drunk dummy lmao. her hand on the back of your neck keeping you steady while she hits your weak spot over and over and over again. you’ve forgotten what it’s like to not have her stuffing your walls. other hand gripping the plump flesh of your ass so hard you’re sure that it’ll leave a bruise. the kind you look at in the mirror that sends memories rushing to your stomach.

speaking of stomachs, she’s fucking you so deep you’re positive she’s blending your guts. turning you into a pleasure smoothie. and you feel like fucking jello because it’s all too much. you’re so gone you can’t even hear her talking to you. “you’re taking me so well. you can barely respond. fuck, can you hear that? you’re so fucking wet for me.”

and then she slows down. slow, hard thrusts. one after the next making you grip the sheets and stuff your face into the mattress. all while’s she’s got the stupidest smirk on her face. (probably thinking about how next time she’s gonna fuck you in front of a mirror and make you watch yourself become her cock slut.)

[hinamie]

u should think of tiny megu. To keep the stress at bay. You should draw him actually. Ooooo you wanna draw tiny megu getting the love he deserves so bad /j

he's with his 2 best friends

[etherealyoungk]

thinking about mingyu who gets so excited telling you about his day. He talks so fast, his lisp becomes prominent that at some point you barely understand some phrases but its okay, you love him. You'll learn his "language". Even if he gets overly excited his hand gestures knock over his cup or his knees hit the coffee table. Sometimes theres just a brightness in his eyes and flush of his cheeks as he yaps that you just stare. He'd pout when you don't respond and you just giggle and kiss him silly cause he's so passionate, so adorable, so precious, and so yours.

-🍙

🍙 anon this is so cute stop

imagine you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book while sipping on your coffee when mingyu bursts through the door. his face practically glowing with excitement and you can tell he's brimming with stories to tell you.

“gyu, how was your day?”, you ask as he takes a seat next to you.

before you can even take another sip of your coffee, he’s already launching into his tale. “you won’t believe what happened! i was at the—” mingyu begins, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire. his enthusiasm makes his words merge into a blur of excitement.

as he talks, his hands fly around animatedly, demonstrating every detail of his story. at one point, he’s so engrossed in his explanation that he accidentally knocks your cup of coffee, which spills slightly. you try to keep up with what he is saying, but his enthusiasm is so infectious that you’re too busy watching his bright eyes and adorable, animated expressions, even if you catch only every third word,

“—and then i got this amazing—” he says, waving his hands so energetically that he nearly smacks the lamp next to the couch.

he’s so wrapped up in his excitement that he barely notices the chaos he’s creating. his eyes are sparkling, and his smile is so wide it seems to light up the room. you’re mesmerised by his passion and adorableness, and as you watch him with a soft, loving smile. he’s so cute that it’s almost overwhelming.

you giggle, unable to resist the charm of his energy. he finally pauses and notices you staring at him with an amused smile. “what? why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, pouting slightly.

you lean in, cupping his face gently in your hands. still laughing softly. "because you’re absolutely precious. your excitement is the sweetest thing ever and you're so adorable when you get excited and i love you so much.”

mingyu’s blush deepens, and his pout turns into an almost bashful smile. “really? i just got so caught up in telling you—”

“yes, really", you say, cutting him off. "you’re the cutest thing ever, and i wouldn’t trade these messy, adorable moments for anything.”

he giggles at your words, his eyes sparkling with joy as he looks at you. you lean in and plant a series of quick, silly kisses on his cheeks. “you’re just so precious. i can’t get enough of you.” you say between each kiss. the grin on mingyu's face is infectious as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, getting shy. you just love him so much <3

[choccy-milky]

congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼

[kurooh]

Hi hi!

Jumping on the brainrot train yet again. I was thinkin'...what would be the MHA boys reaction when you surprises them with a sexy version of their costume.

I think some of them might go feral 😈

🐰

OH MY GODDD WHAT IS UR BRAIN MADE OF

izuku can’t form a coherent sentence, stuttering and flushing more at the sight of you, yet he can’t stop sneaking glances when he tries to look away. “b-baby! uh, you look really really good! not just good, you look so sexy— i mean—okay! wow, it’s really hot in here isn’t it? i swear it’s because of you—” giggling, you put him out of his misery by giving him a kiss.

katsuki’s affronted, or he at least pretends to be. you’re half naked, the costume hanging off your hips and chest, begging to be ripped off. now, he doesn’t want to reveal just how flustered he is, so he critiques every part of your costume, no matter how ridiculous it is. “see, look at that. this would’ve been a great knockoff costume if the headpieces were painted right. oh, and look at that shit right there! the manufacturer didn’t even make the panti— the shorts loose enough to replicate the real thing.” “it’s supposed to be tight on my ass, kat.” eventually he shuts up and just tears the costume off you, and absolutely will not address his fake criticism from earlier.

shoto’s pleasantly surprised to see you wearing his costume, shamelessly looking over the way the tight suit hugs the slopes and curves of your body. “my costume looks great on you. we could dress up together for halloween, hm?” knowing him, the costume won’t last until then lmaooo (he’s a real freak)

eijirou grabs your hands and jumps up and down. he’s so excited to see you wearing his costume, and he honestly feels like you’re a better looking red riot than he is. “YAY babe!! you look so beautiful, oh my god! you’re wearing it better than me, mrs red riot.” he smothers your face in kisses and works his way down your body, fighting every urge to rip the costume off you.

denki walks into the room and takes one wide eyed, slack jawed look at you in his costume. “i’m hard.” “denki! what do you think of it??” “i just said i’m hard!” “that’s not enough of an answer!” “babeeee! you KNOW how sexy you are.” “how sexy?” you’d ask cheekily, spinning to show him the backside of the costume, which leaves almost nothing to the imagination. “i’m going full chargebolt on you baby.” “what.” “spread your legs right now,” and then when he sees the disbelief and shock on your face he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “you heard me babe.”

[6esiree]

I always love to imagine that whenever human Alastor has had a long day, he loves coming to your shared home and fucking the absolute shit out of you 😍

Imagine Human Alastor…

• Making his presence known by slamming the front door shut, the wooden foundation of your shared home slightly shaking from the forcefulness of the act. You’re frightened at first, but when you realize it’s just your husband, you calm down and resume dinner, completely oblivious to what he has in store for you.

• Rushing towards the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underneath his hurried footsteps. You put down your knife and turn around to greet him with a ‘Hello, sweetheart!’ but then he snatches your arm, a yelp escaping your throat as he pushes you down face-first onto the dining table, your cheek squashed against the tablecloth.

• Swiftly flipping your skirt up and yanking your panties down to your feet, one strong hand binding your wrists together behind your back, the other desperately unfastening his pants. ‘Al, did something happen?’ You try to ask, concerned, but then he prods at your entrance with the head of his cock, eliciting a moan from you.

• Slowly pushing past your folds, your eyes fluttering shut and your mouth falling open with a cry as he stretches you, your cunt clamping around him. He barely gives you time to adjust, pulling out completely and slamming back into you with a strangled groan. ‘Long day,’ He eventually admits through gritted teeth.

• Encouraging you to lift your leg up over on the table, putting your cunt on full display for him. ‘Suck,’ He demands as he leans over your body, placing two fingers against your lips. You obediently comply, opening your mouth and sucking them eagerly. ‘Good girl,’ He sighs, staring at you with raw, utter adoration.

• Reaching down with his saliva-coated fingers to massage your neglected clit, so swollen and sensitive, his brows knitting in concentration as he angles his hips a certain way and abuses your g-spot at an unforgiving pace. ‘Wait, Al, no!’ You gasp, trying to free your arms, but he only chuckles and tightens his grip on your wrists.

• Watching in gratification as your mouth falls open in a series of desperate pleas, your body helplessly writhing underneath him and your cunt convulsing around his cock. ‘Oh, darling, look at the mess you’re making,’ He groans, the sight of liquid cascading down your trembling thighs bringing him closer to the edge.

• Letting up on you only till he’s finished, burying himself deep into you, emptying his load and assuring that not a single drop goes wasted. When he pulls out, he even gathers whatever tries to escape and pushes it back into your entrance with his fingers. ‘There we go,’ He hums, affectionately patting your wet, puffy cunt, making you jump.

• Helping you put your panties back on, savoring the way you stand stiffly before him afterwards, his cum uncomfortably pooling in between your legs. ‘You’ll make a great mother,’ He says nonchalantly, grabbing your chin and leaning down, craning his neck to place a tender kiss on your lips. You just stand there, stunned.

[earlgodwin]

I don't want Naples yet. I want my sister.

[eupheme]

Can you imagine sending Logan nudes lmaooo. If you have any time would you make a little drabble about sending Wade and Logan nudes and their reactions (,:

oooh hi anon, this is so 👀 to think about!! I feel like they would both be incredibly appreciative for sure (just like - knowing you were thinking about them would be such an ego boost for both) - I feel like Wade would be over the moon and so complimentary. and Logan might be a little more old-school. admiring, of course - no one’s sent him something quite like this before. He’d keep it safe - pull it out when he’s really missing you.

I have a little drabble for each below! Just a fun pov of them receiving them 💖 thank you so much for sending this!!

SENDING WADE & LOGAN YOUR ✨PHOTOS ✨

wade wilson x gn!reader | logan howlett x gn!reader

WADE

Wade is out - but it doesn’t matter, not when his sweetie pie snookums is messaging him. As soon as the metal gear alert chimes, he’s peeling away from the group to check your text.

Teeth sinking into knuckles when he sees the pretty picture you sent him - hard enough to bruise if he wasn’t already healing.

All that skin, bared for him to see. Red leather spread out beneath - something resting against your parted lips.

With a tap, it’s already the new background of his phone. Your contact photo as well - his thumbs moving a mile a minute as he texts you.

> baby.

> BABY.

> fuck, you look so fucking good.

> I’m SO fucking hard right now

> Is that my suit? IS THAT BABY KNIFE???

Your messages comes back instantly

> why don’t you come over and see? ❤️

“Fuck, I love you.” He groans, palming himself as he texts something back. Emojis, a random press of letters, he has no idea. Doesn’t fucking matter.

Throwing out the quickest goodbye he’s ever managed as he power-walks through the bar - still talking a mile-a-minute as he passes the shared table.

“Gotta go, listen - Avengers-level stuff here. The Marvel Jesus beacon has been lit, I am legally obligated to answer the call-”

Ignoring the chorus of questions that follow -

Because he’s got somewhere really goddamn important to be.

LOGAN

It’s late, when Logan hear the ping of his cell. His head tilting back on the couch, as he swipes through to his messages.

A breath held, when he sees what you sent him.

He lifts up on an elbow - a confirmation that the door is shut behind him. Keen senses catching the slow breathing in the room behind, before he settles back down.

Phone held close, as he looks at your message again.

He’s used to old, grainy polaroids. A hint of intimacy, tucked into a pocket when he enlisted. It’s nothing compared to this.

Bared skin. So much implied in the way your hand curves - hiding what he wants to see. The peek of his flannel at your wrists, before the rest is cropped with the angle.

An aching swell to his cock, as his hand drops to snake beneath the waistband. Squeezing himself, as he bucks into his palm.

A second, before his thumb is tapping on your contact. He can hear the smile in your voice the second you answer his call.

“You liked it, baby?”

His eyes close at the soft coo of your voice.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah,” He rasps, “You just take that?”

You hum your answer, and his fist tightens. A bitten-back groan, as his eyes close. Picturing the photo again. Picturing you.

“Fuck. Keep going, sweetheart.” Logan groans, “‘m right there with you. Wanna hear you when you come.”

thanks again for sending this! 💖

[hapinesbuterfiy]

social butterfly!reader walking around with big dog privilege( rafe cameron behind her glaring at any suspicious man ) and she's wondering why no one's talking to her

he's the epitome of scary boyfriend. like pls i just need him to tower over me and protect me 😭😭😭

. 𓂃 ꔫ 💌 ‎♡ ˚ .

you're at a concert with rafe, so excited to see your favorite artist and make new fangirl friends!! you're waiting on line to get in, rafe keeping his arms around your shoulders towing over you from behind with his usual smug expression on his face as he scans through the crowd. usually, you attend concerts with sarah the both of you walking up to people and talking to them, but this time rafe bought you the tickets for your birthday so you brought him instead. you look up at him visibly upset while giving him and your best pout and you're just like "hmm i wonder why nobody's talking to me i always make friends at concerts..." he tells you "don't worry about it you have me" and suddenly everythings ok again and you're back in your little rafe bubble so excited to sing your favorite songs with him by your side

[kiupido]

the good boy, the puppy, the uhhh the uhhhh

[infamous-if]

god i don't even wanna say it bc it seems so farfetched but i think maybe botb is run unethically

im not confirming or denying but why would that be farfetched? hahahaha

[darlingwriter]

💫🎀 with Ghost? Like he gets all tipsy and lovey. I honestly see this man as a lovesick puppy once you give him a lil bit of attention

Also if you’re keeping track of anons can I be 🧃anon?

a/n: okay first of all you're absolutely correct and you should say it. secondly, i've never had to track anons before and i'm actually so honoured! you can totally be 🧃 anon! 💗

fic: gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley tags: fluff warnings: none wordcount: under 1k

Strictly speaking, you and Simon really aren’t supposed to be sharing quarters. You’re definitely violating at least a dozen regulations by spending almost every night in his bed. Then again, not many people are willing to argue with a six-foot-three man in a skull mask, so strictly speaking has never really been an issue.

No, the only issue is that it’s almost ten and he’s not back from drinks with Soap and Gaz yet and you’re deeply regretting not going with him because, as it turns out, hanging out in this apartment all by yourself is, big surprise, actually pretty fucking boring.

It feels like a millennium passes by in the confines of the white walls before you at last hear a familiar knock at the door.

Setting down your book, you unfold yourself from the nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, already mourning the loss of warmth as you shuffle across a cold hardwood floor to let the lieutenant in, one quilt still wrapped loosely around your shoulders, trailing behind you as you reach for the latch.

Simon’s pulling you into a hug almost the second you open the door, burying a fabric-covered face against your hair.

“You’re late,” you mumble into his chest, in an unsuccessful attempt to sound scolding.

“I know, ‘m sorry, lovely, cab took fuckin’ forever.” He shoves the door shut behind him. Leans back against it. “Ended up standin’ in the rain for ‘bout an hour.” He strips off a damp jacket. Pulls off his mask, revealing stubble and scars and a smile. “Missed you th’ whole time.”

“Sappy bastard.”

“Mmph.” The scent of bourbon whiskey still lingers on his skin, warm and a little smokey. He wraps the blanket — which has been slowly slipping off over the course of the exchange — back around you. “You like it.” You scoff and roll your eyes, and he cups your face with his hands and grins. “You’re cute.”

“You’re drunk,” you protest through squished cheeks.

“M’right, though.” He chuckles. Pulls you close again. Sinks down onto the couch, and you’re pulled down with him, his thick arms wrapped around you protectively as he rests his chin atop your head.

“Simon.”

“Lovely.”

“Breathing.”

“Not important,” he murmurs.

You sigh in defeat. Melt into the embrace. “You’re warm.” The words are muffled against his neck. Simon hums in acknowledgement. Presses a soft kiss against your temple.

“You too, lovely.”

[tojisun]

Biker Simon with the clubs kids 😮‍💨

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CydQgv0IaHO/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

HELP?? THAT IS SO COOL WHAT

simon snaps his visor up and laughs when he hears your nephew’s resounding merry scream, the boy still bouncing around excitably at simon’s little trick. he then stops waving his hands around to run back to simon and hug his legs.

“that was sooo cool,” he cheers, his voice muffled by his helmet.

simon fondly shakes his head before reaching down to unlatch the helmet from the boy’s little head.

“promise not to tell y’r aunt or y’r parents that i did that?” simon asks, holding up his pinky.

your nephew hooks his pinky with simon’s then mimes himself zipping his mouth shut, before theatrically whispering, “i promise!”

simon chuckles and ruffles the boy’s short hair before straightening back up to remove his own helmet only to jolt in surprise at seeing you standing by the garage door, your jaw hanging open. it’s all the confirmation simon needs to know that you’ve caught them.

“uh-oh,” your nephew gasps out, having caught on.

uh-oh indeed.

“sweetheart,” simon starts. “i, uh, won’t do it again-”

“how’d you do that?! that was so cool!” you shout, too buzzed to notice that you’ve cut him off, before elatedly bouncing – truly like aunt, like nephew – towards him, your eyes still wide with glee.

you stand beside your nephew and simon chokes on his laughter when he notices the way you two are staring up at him in twin awe, your guys’ cheeks round from the forces of your smiles.

if only he can take a picture of the two of you right now.

-

simon later receives a message from your brother-in-law.

> Apparently, I’m no longer his favourite adult.

attached is a video taken from the garage’s security cameras – simon doing his little trick, your nephew bouncing around happily, and then you ambling towards the two of them in your mismatched slippers.

simon saves the video and bites a grin as he sends in his reply.

You never were. <

(biker!simon root post)

[qingxin-dream]

Scara relaxing on the couch with you<3 if u do NSFW having him cockwarm you so he can relax

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬”

summary | today was one of those days where nothing could go right. well, maybe, it’s been like that for awhile. and you know damn well that your loving husband was not about to watch you fall into despair. (art credits: unknown)

warnings | not proofread, reader has a mental breakdown, comfort, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, cockwarming, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, slightly possessive/dominant, marking, breeding kink, creampie

genre | modern au, comfort, smut

word count | 3k

pairing | husband! scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sky had been overcast all day, only putting a damper on your mood. Work has somehow become extra stressful lately with more and more responsibilities piling up. You felt the crushing weight on your shoulders with each passing hour and you couldn’t wait for the clock to hit 5pm.

The last place you wanted to be was at work, away from home, and without your husband, Scaramouche. Even then, your relationship was getting to a point where it was nothing more than bitter roommates. He had missions to complete while you were obligated to work every day. Someone had to be the breadwinner, after all.

Sweet freedom washes over your exhausted body when it’s finally time to go home. You rush outside only to find that the clouds had turned a nasty gray color and wet droplets of rain dotted your suit jacket.

Great, you forgot an umbrella.

The rain was really picking up now, your clothes soaked and your hair flattening into drenched clumps. Running through the downpour, you had to make it another block to your car until you got stopped at an intersection—narrowly avoiding the wave of water a speeding car almost splashed onto you.

Once you practically leaped into your car for safety, the sense of stillness that suddenly permeated the air brought you back down to earth. You were more than overworked. You were burned out, with hot tears freely streaming down your face in a choked sob. Gripping the steering wheel, you slumped your forehead onto your knuckles, shoulders shaking as you cried out all the pressure you had bottled up inside. The rain beat against the windshield, drowning out your agony.

Once you managed to compose yourself with a few sad sniffles here and there, you turned the key in the ignition. Tonight you decided to forget about everything. No stress. No work. Not even a single load of laundry. You couldn’t muster the strength for anything other than some sort of self-care or self-indulgence.

When you walked through the door with an expression bordering on despair, Scaramouche knew you had a rough day. He frowned to himself. Frankly, the distance between you two was a sore spot for him as of late and he was expecting you to lock yourself in the bedroom.

At first, he had been stubborn about the tangible separation pushing you further and further away from him. Foolishly, Scaramouche had tried to drown himself in his busy work and missions, simply trying to ignore it. But after a while, he realized that this damned feeling of alienation and being constantly on edge like some old married couple was ridiculous.

That’s not who he married or the life he signed up for, and Scaramouche found himself determined to finally act like you both loved each other for once.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you from the couch. Looking down at his casual sweatpants and shirt, you wished you could’ve stripped down and lazed around on the couch this afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. He offers a small olive branch with his softened tone of voice. “Why don’t you get changed and come sit with me? I missed you.”

You drew in a hesitant breath. Perhaps it was your way of attempting to decompress before answering your husband or you were unsure of his intentions. The couch was definitely calling to you, and the prospect of your lover’s comforting arms enveloping you was even more tempting. In a haste, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag, nodding with a bit of a pitiful pout on your lips as you went into the bedroom.

Scaramouche perked up slightly upon hearing your return, making room for you on the couch so that he could spoon you just right. As you sat down, his hand immediately went to your hip and he found himself gravitating toward the comforting crevice of your neck. Your skin was colder than he expected from the rain but he was more than willing to share his warmth with you, his fingers venturing up the contour of your waist under your baggy shirt.

“There’s goosebumps on your skin,” he noted with an obvious smile in his voice. “Why don’t you take this off and let me warm you up, hm?”

You gaze at him over your shoulder, catching the subtle seductive intonation of his offer. Despite his pads of his fingers gently caressing and massaging your hip in encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure if you had it in you for too much physical affection. Most of all, you just felt tired.

Yet, Scaramouche always got his way. Maybe it was how the words rolled off his tongue that sparked your imagination in the back of your mind, or that mischievous gleam of excitement in his violet eyes. He had no problem catering to your needs, helping you slowly lift that baggy shirt over your shoulders and tossing it aside. He quickly did the same.

Suddenly, he ensnared you in his arms, burying his nose in your neck and sighing. The feeling of your back pressed against his bare, muscular chest was like a balm soothing his soul. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, surprised by his enthusiasm, and pull a heavy blanket over you both.

“Better get rid of these too,” Scaramouche suggested softly into the shell of your ear, tugging at the elastic waistband of your shorts. He generously nuzzled your neck, peppering a few kisses across your sensitive skin to distract you as he easily slipped you out of your bottoms.

Your whimpers were buried in your throat. You purposely tried to stifle it, but the little shiver of your neck and body against his ministrations couldn’t hide your true feelings forever. The slow drag of his hand up your plush thighs, over the round of your hip, and dangerously close to your breasts was merely a confirmation of your suspicions.

“Scara… please,” you murmur, sounding more like a faint plea for peace and relaxation. “My feet hurt so much. I don’t think I can move anymore, let alone do—”

“Shhh, love, you really think I’m going to make you do anything?” he asks rhetorically, the timbre of his sweet words deepening to a level bordering on husky. His hand travels back down the curves of your body with silent reverence, hoping to ease your worries. “I don’t think you realize how hard you’ve been working until it breaks you.”

With a click of his tongue, your husband continues to let his hand journey over every inch of your lovely form. Your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, hips, thighs… If he was being honest, Scaramouche would never have thought he’d discover someone as perfectly imperfect as you. To not remind you of how much he secretly worships your whole being would be a grave sin in his eyes.

“I feel like I never see you anymore. We never talk anymore,” he mumbles into your shoulder blade, taking his time to kiss and nibble as much of your upper back as he could. You involuntarily arched your back, the sensation of his mouth along your spine sending pulses of electric desire through you. His voice shifts into a possessive growl. “And I miss my wife.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you weep dryly, rolling your head back to relax on him fully. Your thoughts instantly short-circuited at the revelation of his thick bulge pressing into the plush of your ass, tactically held in place by his fingertips digging into your love handle. You were so ready to just melt into him completely, to give in and let him take care of you.

“Don’t ask for my forgiveness,” he quickly interjected to correct you. You could feel the smirk spreading on his face as he leans into you as much as possible. The back of his hand ghosts your inner thigh, nudging it to the side. “Show me how much you want my mercy.”

You were hanging on every syllable that left his lips in a hushed whisper. A featherlight touch grazed near your outer labia, enough to capture your attention like a moth to a flame. That was all it took for him to push your mind over the edge. It was pathetic, really, how you were desperately trying to mentally fill in the blanks and imagine the pleasure of his slender fingers massaging your needy clit.

Scaramouche knew exactly what he was doing. He loved getting a rise out of you. Admiring the subtle contortion of your features in pleasure may be his favorite pastime. Tickling the insides of your thighs and skirting skillfully around the one place you wanted him most, he scoffed in amusement every time you sighed softly in frustration.

“I thought you were going to be nice,” you groaned impatiently, beginning to lazily roll your hips in rhythm with the intermittent brush of his fingers just shy of your cunt.

“I am,” he snickered into your collarbone, his hot breath pouring down your chest and thrilling your skin. “You can’t lie to me. I know you like when I tease you until you’re begging for me to stuff you to the brim.”

Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you managed to defiantly buck your hips forward and finally feel the tantalizing glide of his index and middle fingers between your slick folds. The sweet victory ripped a lewd moan of your lover’s name from your pretty throat. To say you were utterly addicted to the sound of him parting the lips of your glistening pussy might be an understatement.

“Tsk, tsk, good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Scaramouche mocks you lightheartedly, though his fingers don’t leave your clit. Rather, he circles the sensitive nub at a tantalizingly slow pace to earn another cock-twitching moan from your angelic mouth. “I could touch you like this all night… unless you’d rather serve your punishment on my cock instead?”

You were too preoccupied with the intoxicating pleasure concentrated on your aching clit, eyelashes resting on your cheeks and jaw slightly agape. Scaramouche chuckled deeply into your ear with satisfaction, returning his lips to your neck but this time with a little more force. His teeth sunk into you, intent on leaving a good bruise.

It would be a clear reminder in the morning of who you belong to.

He sucked a little harder, causing you to yelp in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. His words were muffled against your skin with a gentle scolding. “I asked you a question.”

“C-cock, please,” you nearly choke, starting to grind sloppily onto his hand for some sense of relief. His other arm underneath you tightened, essentially pinning you to the heat radiating from his body from behind.

“Whose cock?” Scaramouche grumbled jealously at your vague plea. He needed to know that you didn’t just want anyone’s cock to fill up your drenched, gummy hole. The intensity of his violet irises demanded an answer, glued to your blissed out and desperate expression. His fingers were hastily stimulating your clit as he intently watched you parse love and lust on the brink of an orgasm.

“Y-your cock! Please! I need it so bad,” you cried out loudly, the threat of tears lingering behind your eyes. He abruptly slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, and then shoved his hot, veiny cock pulsating with desire across your soaking wet entrance.

Scaramouche couldn’t stop the salacious groans under his breath, wanting you to hear all the ways you make him unravel. He was eager to drag the mushroomed, pink tip of his cock over your clit over and over, occasionally teasing your hole with the pressure of his length trying to nestle itself within you. But he never pushed it all in. Instead, he continued to gather your essence on his cock—the mere thought of cumming in your rosy folds like this and fucking it messily drove him wild.

“Don’t tell me… hnnnghh… that this is all you want, (Y/N),” he grunted with honeyed pleasure, grinding at a little faster rhythm. You were already nearing your climax again, whispering prayers and praises under your breath for Scaramouche to plunge into you and fuck you senseless.

His hand was still tightly covering your mouth, so you simply shake your head and moan breathily to ask for more.

“Mm, good girl,” he mumbles intimately, kissing your ear and nuzzling you affectionately again. “I know my baby is tired and needy, so I’ll let you be my little cocksleeve tonight, okay?”

You nod and hum against his hand enthusiastically.

He takes the opportunity to shower you with a few more kisses, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance once more. Your walls were already squeezing eagerly on the small inch of his tip inside you and he didn’t dare delay any longer. Scaramouche grabs you by the hip and buries the entirety of his thick cock in your slick tightness, his eyebrows crinkling at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him like a vice.

“F-fuck!” Scaramouche curses sharply, bottoming out completely in your aroused cunt. “So good. S-so fucking good, yeah…”

“A-ah, yes! Mm…” you sighed raggedly with ecstasy, pure pleasure and relief washing over you. His huge cock was stretching you perfectly, the lips of your pussy sucking him in at every possible chance. Despite your exhaustion, your husband had wound you up so much that you begged for tiniest semblance of a thrust into your sopping hole. “Oh my god, p-please, fuck me.”

Without warning, you decided to selfishly fuck yourself on his throbbing cock, but Scaramouche instantly snatched your throat. He held you tightly against his pecs and craned your neck with a forceful grip so that you were facing the ceiling, your oxygen partially cut off. The submissive position had your spongy walls dilating in excitement.

“No, no, wait,” he chastised you, his voice cracking slightly at the end as he struggled to adjust to your greedy cunt. “N-Need I remind you, love? Good things come to those who wait; and if you’re lucky, I’ll cum in you.”

He couldn’t believe your pussy was still quaking around his girth, releasing your neck as you nodded obediently. Once he pulled you into him tightly with his strong arms around your stomach, Scaramouche nudged your legs closed so that you could completely envelope his cock. It was incredibly hot every time he shifted to get more comfortable and your walls only swallowed him further. His breathing calmed slightly, wanting to relax with you for the rest of the night deep within your cunt.

“I-It feels too good, Scara,” you whined, cuddling into the pillow on the couch and clutching the warm blanket to your chest.

For the love of Celestia, your body was so exhausted from work but at the same time you wished you had the strength to fuck him like crazy. You made a mental note to wake him up tomorrow morning with the feeling of your folds lubricating his hardened cock, sinking completely onto his impressive length when his pretty indigo eyes sleepily opened for the first time. You’d make sure to hush him and keep his sleeping mask on snugly, fucking him to your heart’s content.

But for now, your husband returned to worshipping the expanse of your soft curves, coaxing you to relax despite the occasional twitch of his cock inside you. Scaramouche’s voice was smooth as silk when he whispered into the crook of your neck, “See? That wasn’t so bad now. Why don’t you turn on your show and I’ll keep this pretty pussy of yours company for as long as you need, hm?”

You both melted into each other’s embrace, connected in every way imaginable for the first time in a long time. The sensation of your lover’s cock nestling into your folds slowly nudged your sweet spot, drawing breathy moans out of you. He thrusted slowly but deeply, marveling at the lust clouding your eyes pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.

Though Scaramouche was enraptured by the heavenly sound of your pussy slurping his cock, the need burning in his core was beginning to overtake him. “Mm, turn around for me, babe.”

He was gentle and attentive to you as he helped you face him, holding you firmly against his chest and quickly ensuring his cock didn’t leave your cunt for too long. As he stuffed you full, his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your hair, keeping your lips planted on his as you lazily swirled your tongue on his own and moaned his name.

“Nnghh, can’t take it anymore,” Scaramouche growled hungrily into your mouth, lifting your leg slightly to support you so he could delve his cock deeper. His tone trailed off in a quiet beg, “Lemme breed you, (Y/N). Please…”

“Mhmm,” you agreed without hesitation, cupping your lover’s cheek and kissing him with growing reckless abandon.

He was unequivocally smitten by your ardent claim to his lips, groaning lewdly into the kiss as he began to fuck your desperately pulsating pussy. His grip on you tightened, focusing solely on ravaging your walls until you were on the verge of screaming his praise.

“Hah, that’s it. Goddamn it, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he takes your lower lip between his teeth roughly, plunging ruthlessly and chasing his impending orgasm. “You can take it, you can take it, yeah… you better fucking cum all over me or else, I swear…”

You reeled him in with a firm tug of his dark purple locks, nearly crying in pleasure onto his tongue intermingling with yours. Moaning and whimpering like a whore, you clutched onto your lover like your life depended on it. “O-Oh my god, Scara, shit, I’m cumming! I’m… mmph, f-fucking c-cumming…!”

Scaramouche pounded his cock into your sopping release, a guttural groan escaping him as he generously coated your spasming walls with loads of his hot seed. He kept himself buried in your cum-laden folds, your erotic juices mixing around the base of his cock while he kissed you softly.

“God… you have no idea how much I missed you.”

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