#5pm sky

[fuck-yeah-5pm-sky]

[bogkeep]

early sunset

[thethingything]

went downstairs and immediately saw a tiny moth. fuck yeah

[scarecrowgoat]

sonic r isn't perfect looking but the levels are a vibe, especially with the weather and day cycle options

[realness-remade]

december Worst fucking month if it isnt snowy

[stxrgurl]

Photo taken : 28/04/23

Photo posted : 16/11/23

[queeraak]

i must confess that fall is the worst season in my opinion and i don't know why people like it. everything bad about the world is represented in october - november

[mcltiples]

{ OOC } oh, oof, ow. i got to one ask and lost all of my energy. so i'll reply to asks tomorrow. in the mean time, i'm gonna go take a nap and watch scary movies. Maybe might watch Halloween H20 (spoiler for tomorrow's ask reply hehe), depends on how late it gets tho !

hope everyone's having a good day !!

[fuck-yeah-5pm-sky]

[lovetheorem]

...

[ionno]

[wall-eye]

Only thing (ONLY THING) I don't like about winter (I love winter) is that my room gets too cold to sit and draw how I want to

[edenesth]

[5:45 PM]

'Don't wait up for me! Go home first, Woo. There's food in the fridge.' — future wifey💘

Your boyfriend pouted as he read the text you'd sent him at 5pm. He had arrived at your office building and was waiting at his usual spot when he received your message. Normally, you got off work sharp at 5, but today you seemed overwhelmingly busy. Unlike usual, you hadn't even been very responsive during lunch hour.

Wooyoung glanced up and noticed that the lights in your office were among the few still on. Although it was still early, it was a Friday evening, and most people preferred to leave on time and deal with any leftover work on the following Monday.

How long could she take anyway? I'll wait.

Refusing to go home without you, he patiently waited downstairs, hoping to surprise you when you eventually emerged from the building. His unease grew as he watched more and more people leave, the offices slowly emptying, and the sky darkening, yet there was still no sign of you. There were times when you stayed late at work, but never this late.

Nearly an hour later, he sent you a text to let you know he didn't mind waiting and was still in the same spot, asking how much longer you would be. If you needed more time, he'd go to the nearby café for a drink while waiting. But he frowned when 10 minutes passed, and you hadn't even been online; his message was sent but still unread. The final straw was when his call went unanswered.

Despite feeling panic creep in, he tried to stay calm as he walked into the lobby of your office building. Breathe, Jung Wooyoung, breathe. He tells himself you were probably just really busy. But why? You had told him the peak season ended a week ago, so this should have been a slow week. It didn't make sense that you were working so late now. What weren't you telling him?

Crap, is she cheating on me?

Slapping himself on the cheek, he chastised himself for even entertaining such a thought. You had been nothing but the best and most dedicated girlfriend he'd ever had. How could he think that way about you? Now, he only prayed you were alright. What if something had happened to you? What if you had passed out? What if someone at work was doing something untoward to you? He remembered you mentioning a coworker who persistently pursued you despite knowing you were taken.

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth as he watched the elevator numbers climb slowly. He only needed to get to the ninth floor, but the trip had never felt longer. His mind conjured up all sorts of wild scenarios, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see you right now, to have you safe and sound in front of him so he could be okay again.

Ding!

Before the elevator doors fully opened, he was already dashing out at full speed. The dim, empty reception counter of your department greeted him as he sprinted towards your office—the only place he knew to go. "I'm coming, love. Just wait for me."

He had no idea what to expect as he saw your door open, the light from your room spilling into the dark and silent office. Anxiety flooded him as he braced for the unexpected. And indeed, it was unexpected. His steps faltered as he stopped to catch his breath at the entrance of your office, eyes glued to the sight before him. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the extent of his overthinking.

Wooyoung let out a huge sigh of relief, his eyes softening as he took in your petite frame, now slumped over your workdesk, fast asleep amidst piles of documents. The glaring screen of your PC reflected off your glasses, which were crooked on your face as you snored lightly. Your phone, in silent mode, lay beside you.

This explained everything.

Your boyfriend approached you slowly, careful not to wake you yet. With one glance at your computer, he immediately understood why you had been so busy today. Your team leader's emergency leave had left you responsible for a case that ran into some hiccups. Scrolling down the trail of emails, he felt relieved to see that you had eventually solved the issue. The exhaustion must have hit you hard once the adrenaline was gone.

Gently, he removed your glasses from your face, placing them back in their case before running his hand through your hair, tucking loose strands away from your face. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple.

That seemed to have stirred you awake. You emitted a small groan and fluttered your eyes open, prompting him to step back slightly. But you reached out and held onto his shirt.

"Woo? Wh-what are you doing here?"

He shook his head, planting another kiss on your cheek before standing upright, his hands resting on his hips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you sleep in the office, hm? Pack up now, we're going home."

Your heart warmed at his words. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to love him any more, he continued to prove you wrong each time. "Yes, sir."

Despite his directive, he ended up doing all the packing for you as your sleepy form waited by his side. After shutting down your PC, he reached for your bag and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come, let's go."

Suddenly, in the elevator, he found himself wishing the trip would last longer. He pulled your cardigan snugly around you, sliding an arm behind your back and resting his forehead against yours. Admiring the way your sleep-deprived eyes drooped adorably, he grinned softly, biting his lip. His other hand cupped your face as he whispered, "Just hold on a little longer, love. You'll get to rest soon."

You nodded with a pout, and the sight of your tempting pink, soft lips made a sigh escape his mouth. "Good girl," he muttered before leaning in to capture your lips.

His heart skipped a beat when, despite your exhaustion, you responded to his kiss almost instinctively, though a bit more sluggish than usual. His heart swelled with affection at how your body reacted to him, knowing it was only for him. Stroking your cheeks lovingly, he deepened the kiss, only to let out a disappointed whine when the elevator dinged too soon.

You giggled, gently pushing him away. "You know we can continue in the car, right?" His excitement reignited at the suggestion. Insisting he'd help you with your things and settling you in the passenger seat first, he felt his heart flutter as he hurried to the driver's seat. "Alright, where were we?" he asked eagerly, only to find you fast asleep.

Of course, she's asleep. What did I expect?

He chuckled in disbelief, securing your seatbelt and shaking his head in amusement. As he started driving, he slipped his hand into yours, smiling when he felt your fingers unconsciously curling around his.

God, how he loved you.

ATEEZ Masterlist

This is me failing miserably at my "try to stay loyal to Park Seonghwa challenge" because what the hell is Jung Wooyoung so attractive for? The way bro made me write the longest timestamp to date...

Also, guess who clowned herself thinking she could post the first part of Mingi's TWTHH spinoff this weekend?🤡 it's only 1k+ words in so far, I was out all day yesterday and didn't get to write much huhu but hopefully by next week, it'll be out! Hopefully🤞🏻

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[notmymainhehehe]

CW: This is an NSFT concept/story with tentacles and non-consent themes. If you aren't into that, keep scrolling. If you are into that, sit back and enjoy

Imagine, you're hiking on your favorite trail. You've been in this part of the woods countless times and you know these trails like the back of your hand. You have your headphones on as you admire the familiar beauty of your surroundings. The sun is high in the clear blue sky, a gentle breeze is swaying the tree-tops around you, and a squirrel darts across the trail twenty feet ahead of you. You pause for a moment to take a picture of the squirrel when you notice the mouth to a side trail you've never seen before. You double check the time - just before 2pm - and, seeing that you have plenty of time before dark, you decide to check it out. It's beautiful, leading up an easy rocky path with a clear view of the lake nearby. You carry on, not noticing when you take a turn off the main path nor how the forest around you quickly gets thicker the further you go.

After a couple miles, the trail leads alongside a tall cliff face. The mountain is so tall that it blocks the sun, making the thick forest seem even darker. Dense bushes fill the area and occasional movement in them makes you take off your headphones to listen. You can't shake the feeling that you're somewhere you're not supposed to be and someone - or something - knows. You continue down the path, hoping it would loop back to the original trail, and try to shake the feeling that you're being watched. After a while of walking and finding no sign of trail markers, you check your phone again for the time and see that somehow, despite only having felt like only an hour has passed, your phone reads half past 5pm. You try to pull up your trail map but there's no service. In a slight panic, you decide to turn around and go back the way you came. Passing the cliff face again, you pause. Had that opening been there the first time?

Before you can take another step, a bush begins to rustle, moving in the same way you'd noticed earlier. This time, though, it doesn't stop. The rustling gets more aggressive and the bushes nearby start to shake violently as well. Just as you start to run, your trip over a root in the path and fall on your back. But when you look down, it's not a root at all but a thick, black, moving tentacle. Before you can react or stand back up, it slides over your ankle and twists around it. You try to kick it off and scoot away, but its hold is tight. It begins to pull you towards the opening in the cliff face, your screams for help almost seeming to be absorbed by the dense forest. Helplessly, you can only squirm as you're dragged into a small cave.

You can't see how far back it goes in the dark but you're able to hear strange, wet-sounding movement from further back in the cave. A second tentacle, identical to the first, emerges from the darkness and wraps around your left wrist, pulling it up into the air. A third joins, restraining your right wrist, and they use their grasp to pull you from your sitting position and into the air. You kick your legs and scream only for yet another tentacle to come from the dark and grab your free ankle, holding your limbs in place. You let out a whimper and stop fighting, deciding it best to try to remain calm and assess the situation. Blinking the tears of fear out of your eyes, you look around you.

Inside, it's nearly pitch black. Outside the cave, you can just barely see the sun setting between the trees. You couldn't have been gone for more than two hours, it was impossible for the sun to already be setting, yet you seem to be in the den of the impossible. Another tentacle, smaller and thinner than the first four, begins to slither up your legs and you turn your attention back inside the cave.

For the first time, you notice that the final shreds of sunlight are reflecting off the walls just enough to illuminate at least a dozen shapes floating in the darkness. Countless tentacles waved in the air around you, as if waiting for their turn. Your whole body tenses in fear and the tentacle on your leg pauses on your thigh. It coils itself around your thigh, joined by an identical one on the other thigh, and suddenly they pull your legs apart. At the same time, the tentacles holding your wrists pull them together, merging together to form one larger, stronger tendril. You begin to scream again, assessing the situation be damned, just for another shape to come from the darkness and force itself into your mouth and down your throat. Tears prick in your eyes as you feel the tentacle's shape morph and change, filling deep into your throat and allowing just enough space to take shallow breaths. Efforts to move your head away are only met with yet another tendril wrapping around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but firm enough to hold you completely still. All you can do is silently cry as tentacles of all sizes begin to move in from the darkness and seem to explore your body. Some glide along your inner thighs, some rub up and down your waist, one is sliding around your face and chin, and some are even exploring your tits over your tank top. After a few minutes of this, the fabric of your shirt seems to be frustrating the tentacles. It begins to pull at your shirt until it rips and exposes your black bra. The tentacles waste no time in using the same technique to rip that off as well, leaving your clothes hanging on just by the sleeves. You sob as the tentacles return to exploring your body even more intently now. For the first time, you can feel them on your bare skin. The tentacles are cold and slippery, the larger ones pulsing slightly, and they leave a thin layer of clear slime behind on whatever they touch.

The tentacles wrap around your tits, squeezing them curiously, before moving up to your nipples. You're disgusted by the rush of pleasure as they glide over your nipples almost teasingly, the cold wetness making them hard. The tentacles flick at your nipples a few times before their tips reform into what looks like suction cups. They wrap around your nipples and begin to suck on them in a pulsing rhythm. You can't help the gasping moan that escapes around the tentacle in your throat.

Despite the terror you're feeling from the situation, subconsciously your body is reacting to the oddly pleasurable touches of the tentacles. The touches are rushing to your pussy and, as much as you hate to admit it, the fear only adds to the thrill.

You can feel your pussy starting to soak through your leggings as the tendrils continue to suck and tease your nipples and, unfortunately, the tentacle caressing your thigh seems to notice as well. It moves up your thigh and carefully prods at your slit through your clothes. Suddenly, all movement in the cave stops. Your nipples ache from the sudden lack of touch and you're afraid to move in the still silence. After a moment, the tentacle glides across your slit again, not touching your clit, and the suckers on your tits suddenly pulse again, sending a shock of pleasure through you. The tentacle between your legs immediately begins to grab at the fabric of your leggings and pull, successfully tearing them off and down to your ankles and doing the same to your panties.

Another tentacle joins the one between your legs, forming its own sucker on the end, and it begins to hungrily suck up the juices now dripping down your thigh. Now completely exposed and helpless to move, the reality of your situation finally starts to set in. You were the plaything for some terrifying tentacle beast and nobody was going to find you. The first tentacle that was between your legs starts to slide up your slit and, when it gently glides over your clit, you can't help but moan and buck your hips. Mentally, you're terrified and cursing your body for reacting like this. You seem to be giving this thing exactly the reactions it wants and there's nothing you can do to stop this subconscious response to its touch. You try to distract yourself by looking at the sunset only to see the moon high in the sky.

The tentacles definitely notice your reaction to the touch to your clit and it curiously tries the motion again, and again, and again. Your hips are grinding against the tentacle as its cold, smooth surface slowly moves back and forth on your clit. The tip of the tentacle flicks back and forth on your clit a few times as a third tentacle comes between your legs and continues exploration of your slit and begins to tease your hole. Your eyes grow wide as the realization sets in. Getting aroused by the touches of this monster are one thing, but getting fucked by it was where you drew the mental line. Despite your opposition and your attempts to squirm, scream, close your legs, anything, you're still at the tentacle's mercy.

You can feel it as it slides into you effortlessly. It pushes into you effortlessly and begins to explore inside you. As this is happening, the tentacle on your clit changes shape into a sucker and gives a curious suck at your clit, sending another involuntary moan out of your mouth. The tentacle in your mouth moves slightly, causing you to gag a bit. It curiously tries this motion again, moving out slightly before thrusting back in, and repeating this movement, making you gag and drool around the tentacle.

The tentacle inside you continues to explore inside of you and as it arches up, it hits your G-spot and sends a wave of pleasure through your body. The tentacle curls up again and begins to rhythmically stroke that bundle of nerves. You can feel the tentacle behind to change its shape inside you, thickening to fill you up. The tentacle begins to thrust in and out of your pussy, always curling up as it does. Between this, the sensations on your nipples, the tentacle fucking your throat, and the sucker on your clit, you can feel your first orgasm building. You're cursing yourself mentally, trying to hold it back, refusing to cum for a monster, but the pleasure is too much to take. You squeeze your eyes shut in shame as you feel yourself orgasm.

Your juices are rushing down your legs and the tentacle sucking up your juices laps it up hungrily. As you come down from orgasm, you slowly start to realize that this thing was doing all of this very intentionally as it seems to be feeding off your juices. You don't have much time to ponder on this thought, though, as the pace of all the tentacles picks up, quickly bringing you close to a second orgasm.

You're moaning uncontrollably around the tentacle fucking your throat by the time your fourth orgasm hits you. Your brain is hardly forming cohesive thoughts at this point as pleasure overwhelms your body over and over again. You don't even notice when a new tentacle begins to prod at your asshole. You only notice when it starts to push in and, in your first moment of clarity for a while, you try to squirm in protest. You've never even experimented with anal on your own and you've certainly never been fucked in the ass before. The tentacle doesn't seem to care, though, as it pushes into your hole. It feels weird and painful as it continues to push into you and you're mostly distracted from your pleasure as it begins to thrust slowly in and out of you. After a few minutes, just as you're getting used to the feeling, the tentacle curls up in just the right way to send pleasure shooting through you in a way that you'd never felt before. It begins thrusting in and out faster now, curling up to bring you pleasure with each thrust and joining the rhythm of the rest of the tentacles. Your fifth orgasm hits like you've never felt before. You let your brain go empty as you enjoy the pleasure of cumming over and over again from having all your holes filled.

You slowly blink your eyes open in the dappling sunlight. The first thing you notice is how your whole body aches. Your wrists feel raw and your mouth is dry. As your eyes adjust to the sunlight, you look around you to find yourself laying on the ground. You recognize the woods around you as being close to your favorite trail. You look down at yourself and find your clothes torn and your wrists red as if they'd been tied. The memories of the day before come flooding back to you - the hike, the side trail you took, the tentacles, the orgasms, all of it. You pick yourself up, managing to wrap your clothes around you enough to cover up, and make your way towards the trail. When you reach it, you recognize the spot to be where you'd gone on the side trail but when you looked for it, there was only the main trail. Where the mouth to the trail you'd taken yesterday had been, there was just a cluster of thick bushes.

[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.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

[molliemoo3]

The answers none of the above, great times

Do we think the announcement will be at 2pm gmt when merc staff get briefed, or like 2:30, 3pm ish????