#dni if you're going to spew hate

[sparethedreamer]

When you add a blocked tag you want Tumblr to filter out for you, it checks everyone's tags for a post. So if someone I'm following doesn't include a certain tag in a post, but someone who reblogs that post does, then Tumblr sees that tag and goes, "uh oh! blocked tag! hide the post!"

This is a good thing most of the time. People can be warned for triggering material even if it's not tagged by everyone. It's a good safety net!

However, if you decide that you don't want a certain group of people interacting with your blog at all (say, you think their existences are invalid and you hate them, idk) and you put a dni tag on all your posts, then everyone who has that term blocked (maybe they don't wanna see your targeted messages invalidating their existences), then every post you tag with that gets blocked. Even if the person you reblogged the post from is totally inclusive. Even if the post itself as absolutely nothing to do with this group of people you're prejudice against and trying to push out of spaces they should feel welcome in.

So when a targeted group follows who they thought was inclusive and sees that a post has been tagged with a dni, they might get confused and a bit hurt.

So what's the correct course of action here? Should we notify the inclusive blog? Or is it a "our blocked tags, our problem. it's our responsibility to deal with it." thing?

We aren't looking for drama or anything but we're willing to stand up in case this could help prevent future misunderstandings. We also have Covid right now and our thought processes are not at 100%.

[agustdiv1ne]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖12:43 a.m. (m) — choi yeonjun

genre: smսt (minors/ageless blogs dni), angst for flavor, fluff, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption (so somewhat tipsy sex warning!!), this has more plot and is much longer than i initially expected but it is still very self-indulgent LOL

wc: 2.9k

“you should talk to him.” 

the sound of beomgyu's voice a concerningly close distance from your ear causes you to flinch, a bit of the drink in your hand sloshing over the side of the can and onto the already sticky floor. tearing your eyes away from yeonjun, you meet beomgyu's half-lidded gaze; he's drunk, painfully so — and a drunk beomgyu means a considerably more irritating beomgyu.

“why are you over here?” you say, waving your drink around the dark corner of the living room that you staked claim on earlier in the night after chaewon had bailed on you. “shouldn’t you be, like, making out with someone by now?”

“well, you looked miserable, so i decided to be a good friend ‘n come check on you first,” he grins, stumbling when he tries to lean closer and bar you from staring at the man across the room. with a huff, you shove him away and help situate himself against the wall next to you.

“my hero,” you deadpan, blocking out whatever half-baked words beomgyu spews out next in favor of watching yeonjun, your lips pursing as he laughs along with the group of guys surrounding him.

you must admit, he looks...amazing tonight. a light grey tank top allows you a perfect view of his muscle-thickened arms. loose-fitting jeans lay low on his hips, and you catch a peak of his toned stomach and the band of his boxers when he lifts a hand to high-five someone. the self-assured smirk on his lips has not left since you first spotted him. it's almost infuriating; you wonder how he seems so okay, uncaring, after what happened, while your life has all but fallen apart without his presence. you never knew how losing a close friend — okay, a close friend who you have not-so-platonic feelings for — could be so harrowing. until now. the urge to cry and run away battles with the gnawing impulse to stomp up to him and yell straight into his stupid fucking face. you bite the inside of your cheek.

the boy next to you flicks your forehead. “quit staring like a creep and go to talk to him.”

“um, no. i’m pretty sure he hates me now,” you reply, finally looking over at him. “we haven’t talked since last week.”

“since the incident,” beomgyu adds, nodding sagely, before he takes another large swig of the suspiciously bright green liquid in his cup. slouching further against the wall, you shoot him a scalding glare. in response, he simply laughs, the sound squeaky and borderline grating, as leans his head against your shoulder. 

it's quiet between the two of you for a few minutes, in which you stare at the small dents that have appeared on the can in your hand due to your unrelenting grip. you can feel the effects of the two drinks you have consumed beginning to kick in: your mind is a little less cluttered, your muscles releasing their built-up tension as warmth flows through your veins. you're still acutely aware of your surroundings — you are not as far-gone as beomgyu, that's for sure — but your situation does feel slightly less dire now that a bit of alcohol flows through your system.

“uh oh,” beomgyu mumbles over the music, leaning up to bring his mouth closer to your ear. “look who’s comin’ over.” glancing up, you find the very person you would rather not speak to making a beeline straight towards the two of you. the carefree expression he sported prior is long gone, replaced with furrowed brows and downturned lips. 

you sober up immediately. panicking, you shove beomgyu off of you, ignoring the quiet “oof!” he emits as collides with the wall. he scoffs. “what’re you doin’?”

“leaving,” you mutter, ignoring the slight blur to your vision as you push through the crowd toward the dimly lit hallway that you know contains a bathroom. 

without even turning around, you can tell that yeonjun is hot on your trail. you pray that the bathroom is unoccupied — and when you reach it, you luckily find that it is. slipping past the door as quickly as you can, aiming to slam the door and lock it, but a foot shoves it way past the jamb before you can fully execute your plan. you curse under your breath as yeonjun shoves his way inside, clicking the door shut behind him.

for a moment, you and him stare wordlessly at each other. in this light, you are able to see the light flush across his cheekbones from the alcohol, the dark roots of his hair that have grown out since you helped him dye it a couple weeks ago. being confronted by him in this manner makes both your heart ache and your blood boil.

“why are you here?” you spit, breaking the suffocating silence. his blank expression does not falter despite your venom-drenched tone. instead, he crosses his arms in front of him, his biceps bulging, and props himself against the wall across the counter that you presently lean on. 

“why was beomgyu so close to you?” he does not answer your question, rather asks one of his own, a slight slur to his words. red tinges the edge of your vision at his blatant disregard of your query. it’s none of his business, not after what he did. 

“i don’t think that really concerns you,” you decide to say. “why the fuck do you care, anyway?”

“you know why,” he prods, and the dull ache in your chest grows thorns, puncturing your lungs. your nails dig into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself. he seems to notice. 

“no, actually i don’t, yeonjun.” yeonjun. it’s his name, but it is scathing coming from your lips. jjun, jjunie, anything but yeonjun. please. “please, enlighten me as to why you care if my friend is touching me.”

“because i want it to be me instead.”

the dam holding your feelings back explodes.

“you want it to be you, huh?” you laugh humorlessly. “you kiss me, eat me out, fall asleep next to me, then what? throw our it all in the trash? act like i don’t exist? real fucking funny, yeonjun. what a great way to treat one of your closest friends.”

he gapes at you, silent, while you wait for him to say something, anything. taking his lack of response as your cue to leave, you reach for the doorknob, only for his hand to envelop yours. his warm chest collides with your cheek, and his arms wrap around your waist. he buries his nose into the crown of your head.

“i’m sorry,” you hear him murmur, his arms curling around you tighter, and you can’t find it within yourself to break away from his grip. “i was so fucking terrified that you thought that what happened last night was a mistake. that i would lose you forever, i,” his breath stutters in his chest. you feel it against your skin. “i don’t want to lose you. you mean too much to me for that to happen.” 

you push away from his chest, finding nothing but sincerity shining in his umber eyes. “why couldn’t you have just talked to me?” your next sentence tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “don’t you know how long i’ve loved you?”

the gape of his mouth makes your heart race. you feel as if you have confessed something that you should not have. and yet you push forward. “yes, love. how could i ever possibly think that that was a mistake when it’s always ever been you?”

it takes him a few seconds to process your words, and you watch as his expression morphs from confused, to shocked, to...wait, is he smiling?

“can i kiss you?” he asks. the air vacates you lungs at the hopeful quirk of his lips. your resolve breaks and you allow a small nod. that’s all it takes for him to surge forward and his lips to envelope yours. it feels intrinsically different from the kisses you shared last week — no longer fueled by drunken lust and raging hormones, no teeth knocking against each other, and no sense of urgency. slow, soft, he takes his time in savoring the way you taste of your favorite lip balm mixed with the seltzer you had finished off before you tried to escape from him. gentle hands rub soothing circles against your waist while you pull him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. 

he pulls away. “i love you.” kiss. “i love you.” kiss. “i love you.”

the movement of your lips against each other grows increasingly aggressive as you continue. needy, wanting to feel each and every contour, savor every breath each other emits. he breaks away again to kiss down your neck. when you whine, the energy in the room shifts. silently, he urges you up onto the counter, your legs dangling off the edge as he slips his body between your thighs. he finds your lips once more. his hands rest upon your hips, squeezing every so often. this time, you're the one to stop him with a gentle push to his chest.

“wait,” you say as he whines and tries to pull you in again. your fingers splay across his broad chest. you nearly gulp at the sight before you’re shaking the thought away. “you’ve been drinking. i don’t want—”

“baby, i’m fine,” he interrupts. your heart flutters at the pet name. “i wanted to be able to talk to you tonight, so i had, maybe, three drinks? i’m tipsy at most — do i seem drunk? do you feel drunk? we can stop.”

“well, no, you don’t. and i drank less than you,” you admit. “i’d like to keep going...i’m just worried, um, after last time. i don’t want this to be another fluke.” your voice grows incredibly smaller as you speak, trailing off at the very end as you realize how stupid you must sound.

“baby, look at me,” he says, cupping your face. there’s a little haze in his gaze, but the sincerity in his pupils is as clear as day. you know that you look the exact same. “this will never, and i mean never, happen again. you’re mine, and i am yours. if you think i was attached to your hip before, you’re never gonna get rid of me now.”

you giggle at his joking tone, your body the lightest it’s been all night, and you reach down to guide his hands to your thighs. “then make me feel good, jjunie.”

his goofy smile turns sharp at the edges at your words, his fingers digging into your flesh as he leans down to nip and suck at the skin of your neck, your collarbones, his lips trailing down to the valley of your breasts. hands slide underneath your shirt, and you tug at his hair as he slips it off of you, making quick work of your bra. he guides the straps down your arms and off completely, leaving you bare from the waist up. he stares in awe, capturing your hands before you can cover yourself.

“so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, pressing a gentle peck against your wrist. “wanna make you feel good forever.”

“that’s a long time— oh, fuck!” you cut yourself off when his plush lips wrap around one of your nipples, playing with the bud as it pebbles beneath his tongue. he hums, and shockwaves travel straight down to your core. he switches to the other tit, his thumb circling the one that he left. 

“jjun,” you moan despite his unrelenting ministrations to your breasts. “fuck me, please.”

he stands up at his full height, peering down at your desperate, needy expression with slight amusement. “yeah? you want my cock?” 

“so bad,” you whisper, kiss bruised lips smeared with lipstick and spit. “please?”

he groans. “you drive me crazy.” 

he falls to his knees in front of you, helping you remove your shorts and panties. a shaky exhale falls from his mouth when he sees just how soaked you are. a finger slides through your folds, collecting your wetness before bringing to his tongue. he visibly shudders.

“know you want me to fuck you, but i need to taste you first,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you before he dives in with an enthusiasm that is akin to whenever he dances, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking, hands holding open your thighs as you whimper and try to close them around his head. he’s desperate to make you cum, to bring you a level of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before. it doesn’t take you long to fall over the edge, but he does not let up until you begin to push his head away from your center.

“okay, okay,” he laughs as he stands again, taking his tank top off in the process. you gape at the sight, the hard planes of his chest, his defined biceps. it makes you wonder just how strong he is, how he could throw you around and have his way with you — another time. another time.

you reach down to palm him through his jeans, eliciting a whine from him. unbuttoning and unzipping, he helps your shove both his jeans and boxers down until his pretty, pink-tipped cock slaps against his abdomen, achingly hard and sensitive. your fingers immediately wrap around it and begin to stroke up and down, thumb collecting the precum that has collected at the tip. he bucks in your hand once before he's grabbing your hand.

condom?” he asks, and you shake your head, telling him about your birth control. he makes sure with you once again before he leans in to kiss you again, the head of his cock sliding through your folds, sliding against your throbbing clit. finally — finally — he lines up with your soaked entrance. “ready, love?”

humming, you roll your hips forward, and he hisses out a quiet "so impatient," before his hips slowly push forward, stretching your walls as you adjust to the intrusion. both of you moan at the feeling, hands flying everywhere to feel each other. he takes it slow at first, the rolling of his hips into you rhythmic and gentle — but you crave more, need him to fuck you like he means it, to take all that you're giving him and returning just as much to you.

“faster, harder, jjunie,” you pant against his lips. “wanna feel you deeper.”

“god, fuck,” he curses, your dirty words spurring him on. “don’t fuckin’, ngh, talk like that. gonna make me cum.”

his gaze grows hazy as he thrusts into you, your own eyes glazed over, both of you overwhelmed by the sensation of your walls snugly wrapped around him and him stretching you so perfectly. the pretty flush that was once contained to his cheeks has spread out across the rest of his face and down his neck, locks of his dusty rose-orange hair sticking to his forehead. you cup his cheeks and bring your foreheads together. he watches as your eyes roll back into your head after a certain thrust, so he angles his hips to press into that spot again. and again. and again. your cute little whines and moans of his name motivate him to maintain that pace.

“yeah? right there?” he queries, already knowing the answer. “so fucking cute, baby. this pussy was made for me, hm? all mine?”

“a-all yours!” you parrot, the words feeding into your dizzy state. the tendrils of an orgasm begin to wrap around you, your legs beginning to quake. you reach down to play with your clit. desperation laces your next words. “gonna cum, jjunie! please make me cum!”

he's groaning at the sight of you falling apart when your second high of the night hits. a string of curses tumbles from his mouth as his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips slapping hard against the inside of your thighs. he thrusts once, twice more before he spills inside you with a high-pitched whine, burying his head in the junction between your neck and shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“my baby,” he whispers tenderly with a quick peck to your lips when you finally come down. you chase his lips for a longer one, and he concedes easily to your silent demand. you’re smiling like fools at each other as you pull away. “never gonna let you go.”

“my jjunie,” you coo back, holding his face between your palms. you lean in to capture his lips again when a knock startles both of you. you scramble for your crumpled clothes on the floor — until you realize exactly who it is on the other side.

“are the two of you done fucking?” beomgyu’s distinct voice calls. “i need to puke.”

“way to ruin the moment,” yeonjun grumbles, and you chuckle, wiping off the stray lipstick on your face before you’re turning to him, legs still a bit shaky.

“i guess we should help him?” you say.

squeezing your waist, he pulls you closer with a sly grin. “nah, he can manage. i have my lovely little girlfriend to take care of.”

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[muntitled]

Campus Culture | L.DH

Pairings: Himbo!Haechan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Haechan turns into a completely loveable but mindless replica of himself when inebriated and only Drunk Haechan might be able to seduce his uptight roomate... it only counts as a drunken mistake if it happens once, right?

Sfw Warnings: Roomates AU, Fwb to Lovers, Forbbidden Relationship, Confessions, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Angst, CollegeAU, Himbo!Haechan

Nsfw Warnings: Smut (+18, Minors DNI) Fwb to lovers Roomate!Haechan, Perv! Haechan, Dub/CON, Grinding, Choking, Premature Ejaculation, Handjob, Needy!Haechan, Rough sex, Oral Fixation, Nipple play, Unprotected Sex (don't be dumb), Cervix Fucking, Breeding Kink, Cum Play.

A/n: This is more of an enemies to lovers if you squint. If you feel triggered by very slight depictions of bullying, please be wary. I also had no idea where I was going with this. It all just kinda spewed out. ANYWAY, I love Himbos

Usually, you're better equipped for an evening with Haechan's juvenile friends coming over and doing whatever it is that boy's seem to do once they're inebriated in each other's company.

"The bear emerges from hibernation,"

Haechan's voice is like that of a nature documentary narrator, and his head is in his hands as he leans over the armrest with a smile on his face.

“Rested, and in search of something to sink her teeth into.” You remain stoic faced as you breeze past the group of boys on your way to the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

With only a shallow counter to separate the two spaces, you're still roused by the sight of Haechan in your periphery, legs spread and head thrown back as he watches you with a dopey smile.

Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Jisung murmur their greetings dismissively, still vividly engrossed in their game while Chenle types away at the screen of his phone, his mind all together trapped in cyberspace. You breathe out airly as a vague sort of peace befalls you. This has become your norm.

They are so incredibly loud, Haechan's friend's are, that their cacophony bled through every thin wall in your shared apartment. So loud, in fact, that you were made privy to every degenerate, delinquent, and downright disgusting little detail that swam about in their conversation.

Whenever they were over, there was a vibrancy permeating throughout the apartment, which was either attributed to Haechan's need to speak at a higher octave than the rest of the group or Chenle’s obnoxious, though admittedly contagious laughter.

Not everything was daisies and sunshine, however.

You were made subject to Haechan's incessant teasing and petulance that only seemed to double in the presence of his friends. You ignored him, viewing his behavior as a package of a roommate system (more accurately: needing his money to keep yourself and your academic pursuits afloat.)

Even more harrowing is the fact that Haechan is completely accommodating, dare you say, even hospitable (when he's sober). It was very difficult to hate him. No matter how badly you wished to let your vexation infect the inner crevices of your mind... he always made sure to let you know in advance.

He'd knock softly on the door (a by-product of a covenant you both had forged upon deciding to live together. Knocking is something akin to treading carefully through a graveyard. Sacred) letting his usually loud voice simmer to a whisper because he almost always caught you studying at your tiny, disastrous desk and he'd say, "Hey, just a heads up, they're coming over tonight,"

You did not need clarification on the ambiguity of who 'they' were but your heart would plummet all the same.

His warning would allow you, not only to stuff your headphones around your neck, for easier access whenever the noise became too oppressive, but it also allowed you to grab the snacks and food necessary before locking yourself in your room.

Not attributed to any social anxiety, but Haechan's friends had proven to be... difficult to bear in their own ways. There was Chenle, Renjun, and Mark, who held a sort of distinguished naughtiness that you fancied way more than Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan's borderline flirting.

It had proven very difficult not to be included in their antics, especially given the very annoying fact that their energy was so freaking infectious.

As you proceed to turn on the kettle, Haechan speaks up once again. “Since you're already there… a coke, please, Madame.” He knew that you knew that he did not actually want a coke. He just wanted to see you vexed.

“Your legs are in perfect working condition, last I checked," your face remained stoic as you said, “Get your own coke.”

Jaemin immediately cackles to Haechan's right, prompting a light snicker from Chenle and the rest. Haechan sends a worried gaze towards them before bringing his eyes back to yours. Now he's on a mission to piss you off even more.

“C’mon...” he whines in an over indulgent American accent. “Be a doll and hand me a coke-I mean a beer." He stretches his neck from side to side, now deep into his theatrics, "I'm a man-”

The knife clanks on the counter as you scoff, “Since when?" You ask, "And what is with this ‘I'm a man’ stuff?”

Haechan only swats animetedly at the air, “It's cus I'm a man, Jagi. You don't get it cus you're not a ma-”

“Yeah,” you say, turning to prepare your noodles, “I don't wanna know actually.”

There's a sudden influx of celebratory hollering from Jaemin and Jeno, while Renjun and Jisung groan in defeat, signaling the end of their game.

Jaemin turns to you as he says “You seriously don't remember?”

You let the silence speak for you.

“He’s been like this ever since the asexual comment.”

The laughter escapes your throat as you shift your eyes to a now moody and grumbling Haechan. His arms are crossed as he avoids eye contact.

“Seriously?! That's why you've been on such a toxic gym bro kick?”

The flamboyant accent is still present as Haechan says, “Hey man, if you're not gonna get me a coke, just say that, I've got places to be people to see-”

The snort leaves your lips before you can stop it, “You've got a psych textbook to see and you're not even seeing that.”

“Stop with the celibacy jokes before he becomes worse!” begs Renjun.

Your mouth is open in false accusation, with the hints of a smile present, “It's quite literally not my fault Haechan's a virgin.”

“I'm not a virgin!” Haechan whines, letting his previously infuriating accent dissolve into his perfectly infuriating normal voice. “I have sex, all the time, tell her Jaemin. Tell her I have sex.” Your eye shifts easily to Jaemin, who only shakes his head.

“Ah, I told my therapist I'm trying to be more honest in my day to day,"

Now your laughter bubbles up to the ceiling, and you're throwing your head back, eyes shut.

“You all make me wanna kill myself.” Says Haechan, pushing himself up from the couch. The sight of him approaching sobers you ineffably from your laughter. He's not particularly tall, but there's a quality about him that asserts itself as height. A silent substitute.

“I’m being falsely accused of being a virgin, I have to get my own cokes?! What is this life of mine?!" A snicker escaped the confines of your lips as you empty your noodles into your bowl. Your albeit small little laugh was a sound so pretty, Haechan could not help but perk his ears up at the sound.

He inched his way slowly into the kitchen as you took one giant unladylike bite from your noodles. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan shares a glance with Chenle over in the living room. One that prompts Chenle into stabbing Renjun in the ribs with his elbow. They were all watching as you tried to shuffle past Haechan.

Haechan, who wouldn't let you pass until heard him say,

"Not a virgin." The words were veneered in a quiet whisper and in those few seconds, you were convinced the globe had stopped spinning on its imaginary axis. You became hyperaware of yourself, the noodles still very much inside your mouth and the soup dribbling out the corners. You clumsily wipe at your lip as you gaze up at him, smiling away like the Cheshire Cat.

While your heart proceeded its cataclysmic aself destruction, Chenle released the first snort. A snort that prompted an entire wave of laughter from his gaggle of friends. They were all laughing now. Haechan's face melted into a spout of his own laughter until he was doubled over.

"Mm," your nostiled flared , "I'll be in my room," You had disappeared in a hurry, hellbent on returning to your room. Hellbent on calming your runaway heart.

While you were nursing wave after wave of embarrassment, Haechan's eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Don't even try," Jaemin snickered, noticing that look in Haechan's eye as he stared after you. "She's locked up tighter than a prison. You'll only get your wittle heart broken."

Your eyes were practically glued on the endless enriching notes written by Achebe, Lamming, and various other authors you revered religiously. Your studying had been going swimmingly until the arrival of a drunk, slightly dazed Haechan, indicated by the heaviness of his bloodshot eyes and the slight sway in his form by the door. Haechan was a very different person when he was drunk. He got sloppy, as if he was at constant war with reality.

The following Friday had arrived with the small promise that you were to stay in your room for the foreseeable evening. You had chosen to occupy yourself from Haechan's 'get together' by sitting at your desk, like most of your nights: Completely absorbed in perfecting your English Lit notes on Post colonialism.

You both pause, in a vague liminal space until he breaks the silence with a breathy slight slur, “Well, this isn't the bathroom,”

He lived here. He should know where the bathroom is, inebriated or not.

Your eyes narrow. You can't help but snap in a manner that makes you forget all your civility.

“Evidently,” you say with an unimpressed drawl.

There is a tone in your voice that was specifically crafted to have him cringing away from you, like most men on campus tended to do. You were too much of a straight arrow for them, too narrow-minded with not enough complexities and not enough strings that needed detangling. Most men saw that you could smell the bullshit from a mile away, and you were very much aware of what they referred to you as…

Instead of shrinking away like you initially expected, a small, almost thrilled smile curls at the ends of his purt, heart-shaped lips. He only steps closer into your space.

Uptight.

“Don't you need the bathroom-”

“No, don't do that,” You're scowling at him but still, the bear refuses to retreat.

Your messy desk where you remain seated in a chair seems to catch his attention until soon, he's leaning back against the desk in front of you.

“You don't want me here?” He asked, genuinely confused as if everyone was just dying to be in his presence, “I'm not sure what you're busy with over here, but I could help,” He says, swiping a large hand over at the piles of notes scattered on the desk.

“I shouldn't have to tell you not to invade my personal space, Haechan. If this is some stupid dare-"

“I'm going to fucking kill you when you're sober-”

“Only strangers can invade each other's space, Jagiya," he whispers, snortingbas if you were the one acting silly here. “We're not strangers. I'm your dumb virgin roomate, right?"

Your eyes widen imperceptibly as you push yourself up from your chair.

“I'm not even that drunk.” He deadpans. It's as if this boy is unable to mask whatever emotion that seems to pass through him at that very moment.

“Are all these notes yours?” He asks, picking up one of your discarded notes. You strive to grab at the flimsy pieces of notepad paper in his hands, but he swipes it swiftly out of reach every time.

“I just wanted to check on you.” He beams as he pushes himself further along your desk.

“Haechan, you're messing up my system-”

“You must be really smart,” he whispers, and you immediately chastise yourself for letting his words erupt a sudden electrical storm through your once steady heartbeat. “Your handwriting is so pretty too… woah,” he admires before you see his eyes quickly peek about from the paper, “I really like smart girls,”

You find your voice, hidden somewhere in the depths of being flustered. He interrupts you, all the same, “It's okay to say you're smart… I think that's really, like, hot-”

It's impossible to account for the events that followed in a somewhat episodic format because nothing like it had ever happened to you before.

One moment, Haechan is gazing down at you like he wants to eat you and the next, his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling you up from your chair until your lips are crashing onto his… You had not perceived just how touched starved you were, until you found your inhibitions melting, and you were kissing him back just as fiercely. He was impatient and sloppy, pushing his tongue in too quickly while his hand marked up every inch of your body. “Pretty,” he mumbled in between wet kisses, “You so pretty… y'just feel so pretty.” Once Haechan's lust was involved, the rest of his brain, it seemed, shut down like the finishing hours of a toy factory. He was switching your positions, pushing you onto the desk as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Your friends,” you murmured before throwing your head back, offering him better access, “We can't.”

“We can,” he nodded, while pushing himself in between your legs, “We can because I want to,” He punctuated his sentence by thrusting his sweatpants-clad hips right against your core. He seemed to have quickly caught a liking to this form of intimacy because soon, Haechan is breaking apart fromcthe kiss to gaze down at his hips pushing against your core.

His breath is peppered with a soft and dazed, “Woah…”

He nodded very slowly, “I like this very much.” Haechan said with grave finality, which evidently was the calm before the storm. You locked your hand around your mouth as Haechan sank his fingers into the sides of your hips, grinding his bulge against your core like there was nothing else that mattered. He brought your hips to meet each of his stuttering but hard thrusts and your head fell back in the stuttering… constant… impact.

“See?” He says, “See how good it feels?” he mumbles incoherently, now in a violent pursuit of his own orgasm. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, feeling his cock twitching in his sweats. A feeling that usually let him know the end was near. He quickly clamped his hands on the underside of your ass before lifting you slightly off the desk, just enough to move impossibly closer between your legs.

He hugged you, wanting to feel your soft tits pushing up against him as he was grinding you both to a quick orgasm.

“You're close aren't you?” His voice cracks when he says, “Please be close, because I'm so fucking close-”

But all you're able to do is fight to keep your eyes open as you watch the slightly cracked open door. “H-Haechan-”

“Look at me, Cupcake,” he practically whined before forcefully bringing your eyes back to him with a flick of your chin.

The eye contact sent him down a rampage of lust and his hips stuttered as his mouth hung open,“F-Fuck, just like that- you're so good-” he lifted his baggy shirt, to watch himself thrust one more time before his rhythm crumbled and his hips stuttered as he came in his sweats.

You did not have the energy to tell him you didn't cum, only sprouting a brand new vexation as he swayed his way in search of the bathroom.

That had been your first and last devious encounter, before you avoided him like the plague. It had not taken much, because Haechan was vastly more sensible when he was sober. Emerging from his room like a bear out of his den and rubbing his messy head of black hair as he grumbled, “Did I do something weird last night? Or stupid?” He groans, “I have this feeling that I did something extra stupid and weird last night.” Although your heart plummeted minutely, you saw this as a lifeline and you took it.

“You were drunk, Haechan, so you probably most certainly did.”

You allowed yourself to live in the peace of sober Haechan until things once again only got dangerous on Friday nights, when his enablers would all congregate in the living room, tossing back cans of beer.

Your quick trip to the bathroom had ended with Haechan looming in the doorway, once again. With a near constant pout he exclaimed, “I missed you!”

“You see me everyday,” you grumbled before making your way to the sink to wash your hands. There was a bubbling in your stomach, that you would only dissect later. Whether it was excitement or frustration at seeing him this way.

“Still missed you-”

“I think you missed my body,” you said, before drying your hands, “Not me.”

“Both. I missed both,” he says, before beaming the sunniest, brightest smile you had ever seen on a face. You had to look away as you stepped towards him, for your sanity.

“Please move, Hyuck-”

“I wanna play,” he says, “We had so much fun the last time,”

“You fucking seduced me the last time and I fell for it like an idiot." You sighed deeply, "I studied myself to exhaustion. Im such a fucking idiot.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he very seriously says, “Don't say that-”

“What do you like about me? I mean what could you actually like and appreciate about me-” For all of 5 seconds the boy is trapped in a worrying daze. As the seconds tick on, your blood pressure rises and you're pushing roughly at his chest, which once again proves to be futile. “Fucking move, Haechan. I'm not doing this with you.”

His whines soar higher, “But why?! I didn't even really get to see your boobs, please let me see your boobs?” you stop his hand on its way to cup your breasts in mid air. He slumps

“You make me wanna kill myself.” He grumbles before stomping away to rejoin his friends. As Haechan sat down he breathed out heavily before whining, kicking and punching at the air. His friends, seeing nothing new with his tantrum, did not entertain it as they played their games.

Haechan just couldn't understand. He wanted you and, based on everything that transpired, you wanted him. So why not just let it happen?

You were making things too complicated and complicated is not something he enjoyed very much.

Haechan did not grasp onto much but you make it exceptionally clear that you did not want the interaction to be made public knowledge, and he, surprisingly obeyed your wishes. Your only enemy, it seems, were these hangouts Haechan scheduled with his friends. You liked to avoid unnecessary juvenile squabbling when necessary. You had to study instead, until you built the proper revenue to buy an apartment of your own, free from Haechan's provocation.

But you had fallen asleep.

The dusk bleeding into darkness until you were peeling your face off of your Classical lit textbook and nursing a grumbling stomach...

Your ears perked and your stomach sank as you heard boyish laughter bleed in through the cracks of the doorway. They had already arrived and you had zero rations to combat this venomous hunger.

It was guaranteed to be a short and curt journey past the small apartment living room, into the kitchen. A journey whereby you would pray you evade the group of boys invading your shared living room. Or at least one boy in particular...

Had Haechan been a non factor, your anxieties would have been perfectly nullified, but tin the wake of a troublesome post-study hunger, you had no other choice but to venture out into the living room.

You had hope your trip would be a curt one, entertaining not a single, word, jab, or comment as you were on your way to fly to the kitchen. Your feet stopped you before you could make it. Arrested in stark realisation that there is no noise at all. You round the short corner to find Haechan seated patiently on his couch with his hoodie up, tapping away at a mobile game while humming angelically. You immediately noted that he was sober and that set your mild frustrations at ease.

“Oh, hey,” you murmured, before swaying over to the adjoining Kitchen, separated only by a shallow counter. As you stare down at your yoghurt, you miss the way in which Haechan's face snaps up at tye sound of your voice. His feet fly off the coffee table and he rights himself infinitesimally.

“You guys aren't hanging out today?”

“There's a party somewhere on campus,” he switches his phone off and stuffs it into the pocket of his goodies as he shrugs, “Didn't feel like going.”

You walk back into the living room, and Haechan watches as you nod silently before planting yourself on the couch next to him. He's very perceptive and plants a couch cushion behind your back in the process. You realise then that you much preferred him this way.

“I'm having a hard time guaging the fact that you didn't wanna get drunk,” although a short chuckle escapes your lips, Haechan is not laughing. “I don't always think about getting drunk, you know.” The smile disappears from your face automatically as you bring a spoon of yoghurt to your lips.

“Of course… sorry-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Haechan watches your tongue lightly poke out and nip at the yoghurt before lazily bringing his eyes back to you. “If anything, I should be sorry.” An immediate wave of discomfort washed over you when the words left his mouth. So he was aware.

“Drunk Haechan sucks,” he says, “You don't have to make excuses for him.” You're caught in a wave of silence, your yoghourt forgotten on your lap. He wants to pull back but he has your attention now and it's fueling him with all the confidence he needs before he's scooting closer on the couch, until your thigh is directly against his.

“Earlier in the week you asked me what I like about you-”

“Haechan, you don't have to-”

The discomfort bled into embarrassment now and you fought to get up but he placed his hand on yours.

“I don't remember what I said,'' his lips pout lightly as his eyebrows furrow, “I don't know if I said anything at all. I just… want you to know that I wasn't quiet because nothing came to mind. I was speechless because it was like trying to list the stars. Tiring and fucking endless.” He breathed out, before looking away abashedly, “You're a good cook,” he says, “you always make us something to eat for Friday nights. You're so driven, in a way that is equal parts obsessive but also really fucking hot.” Your mouth parts slightly and Haechan's eyes once again lazily drops down to watch them. His voice is airy and loght as he says, “Fuck, and you're so pretty and smart.” He's speaking purely from a place of lust and admiration, which only has you melting further. You much preferred this Haechan.

“You make me feel safe because I know you always have the answers…” You let his words hang stagnant in the air for a while, letting yourself marinate in the pleasure of it, while his own thumb rubs circles around the back of your hand.

“I mean…” The Insecurities were steadily sinking in because by the laws of campus culture, you both were not supposed to be together. Your names were met with different responses and different emotions attached to them. You'd hate his popularity to diminish because of you. Instead of spewing out these words, you only whispered, “Are you sure? I mean, think of what people-”

In a series of swift movements, Haechan's hand cradling your own had gripped down tighter before dragging your hand until it was flush against his bulge. He releases a heavy breath as his eyes fall momentarily shut. Gritting his teeth together as he throws his head back in momentary euphoria as if he had been waiting to do this.

He brushes your hand up and down as he says, “Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure.” He says, unable to stop himself rutting against your hand. A wave of confidence soon falls until you're taking control and crawling your hand up to the waistband of his sweats. He whines in anticipation as you stuff your hand inside until you are cupping his underwear-clad bulge in your open palm. Haechan's eyes are heavy when he swings his head lazily to you, watching you watch his hips lift to graze himself against your hand.

“I need you,” he whispers, before raising a hand, immediately cupping your breasts, “I need you so fucking bad.” He can feel the presume wet the tight constraints of his boxers and he locks his jaw tighter. “I wanna fuck you, Cupcake,” your stomach warms at the reiterating of the nickname he had given you when he was drunk and equally ravenous, “Please let me,” He juts his hips up with every whine that escapes his throat, “Please-”

“I need you too-” before the words even leave your mouth he's lunging at you in a wild kiss. “Fuck, your lips are so soft,” he mumbles before forcing his his thumb into your mouth and watching with heavy eyelids as he lowers you onto the couch. Your jaw goes limp as Haechan, seemingly entranced with swiping his thumb along your wet tongue.

“So warm,” he murmurs as he hovers above you. Haechan lowers himself between your open legs, “Your mouth I'd so fucking pretty, so fucking warm-”

He sounded exactly like he sounded when he was drunk. Sloppy, incoherent and not making much sense. But you could not discount the pool of wetness that glistened your underwear as Haechan continued to play with your tongue.

“Fuck-” He whispers, watching the saliva coat his finger as he unconsciously thrusts his bulge once again into your core. He seems too realise that he hadn't, in fact, pulled his cock out and he curses lightly before hurriedly moving to do just that.

“Your boobs-” He whispers as he pulls his aching cock out, “Please let me see-”

Before the words even leave his mouth you're pulling your shorts and top off swiftly. Haechan immediately doubles over, thrusting into the air once before he's fisting the base of his cock, as if he was on the cusp of cumming.

“F-Fuck, I think I need to fuck you now-” He said, already sinking deep into you. Your moans fight valiantly to drown out his perpetual whines before he buries his face in between your neck and shoulders. He's breathing heavily as he begins to fuck steadily up into you, releasing little melodic ‘hah, hah, hah's as he peels back to look down at you with heavy pussy-drunk eyes.

“Fuck it feels so good, Haechan,” he thrusts harder at that before lowering his lips to your nipple and sucking without ever breaking eye contact. The stimulation from your nipple and the head of his cock bumping into your cervix has your mind spinning with euphoria. You haven't even cum yet but this feels like you're trapped in that same state of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby you're so tight around my cock,’ his breath blows down against your wet nipple and you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. “If you carry on like this you're gonna make me spill inside you,” you throw your head back, mouth parting even wider as a chorus of moans leave your throat after his sentence.

“F-Fuck you want that? You want me to cum inside you?”

You cannot speak, completely fargone at this point but your cunt still clenching around him is all the answer he needs before he's ramming into you with urgency. “Fuck, you,make me feel so good Cupcake-” He's once again pressing his fingers into your mouth, as of needing to feel the warm wetness just to get off.

He's looking down at you as of you hung the moon, “F-Fuck I'm cumming-” He fights to keep his eyes open and watch you whine around his fingers as your own orgasm crashes in violent succession. You're both fighting to press your hips together, he's fighting to stay inside as an endless string of cum flights to push him out. You're both breathing heavily, both staring into each other's eyes as Haechan pulls his middle and index finger out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless as he cleans his fingers with his own mouth, all without breaking eye contact.

“I… can't believe I came like that-” You say, eyes caught in a daze.

“Shit- I was supposed to rub your clit, wasn't I?” He's already slipping out of you and craning open your legs.

“N-No, Haechan I came, I promise I came. Fuck-” He's rubbing small circles against your puffy clit, using his cum as lube. “You have no idea how badly I needed you cumminh around my cock like that,” he says before spraying a gentle kiss against your knee. He's playing with your cunt, not to bring you to orgasm, you realise, but unconsciously. “We're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”

You snicker lightly before nodding with finality. Thus, as the beginning of a new but interesting dynamic, in which you drove Haechan to study more while he, in the same breath, got you to open up more. He dropped your inhibitions and coaxed you out of your comfort zone…

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 19: Hate Sex

♤♡-Pairs: Cyno/Scaraxgn!reader (separate scenarios)

☆☆-Warnings: mean (both), rough mouth fucking(cyno), rough fucking (both), bruising, harsh words (both), rough fingering (scara), male anatomy (scara and cyno), cuming on face (scara), rough treatment (both), ooc(cyno a bit),hateful sex pls dni if it's not your thing♡

A/N: Two characters in this one! Different scenarios, so post is a little longer. There will be more like this in the future. Tell me what you think!♡

Cyno

You were the worst. That's what Cyno thought as he pulled your hands behind your back. Holding them tight between his hand, grip tightening. He couldn't stand you. Or the way that you wore on his nerves. Always causing trouble for him with pointless and trivial matters. He hated you. That's what he told himself when his hand trailed down your spine. Massaging the flesh of your ass. He knew you were wearing a smirk on your face. You always did.

Cyno growled, ripping your shorts off and watched as the shredded material fell to the ground. Your front pressed against the wall. "What would the people think if they saw the General Mahamattra treating a suspect like this?" You said, your face holding a smug expression.

"Shut up, or I'll do it for you," he seethed, swatting at your now bare ass. And he chuckled darkly as he watched you shiver beneath his touch. "I'll decide how I deliver punishment," he sucked his teeth, tongue now smoothing over his own lips. "Now stay still and keep your mouth shut." He hissed, angrily fussing with the buttons of his pants. And when you laughed, he lost it. Cyno let go of your arms and roughly turned you around, shoving you to your knees. "You just love pissing me off, don't you? Looks like I'll need to shut you up after all."

He all but ripped his bottoms off, pinching both your cheeks. Creating a nice little hole for him to slip his dick through. And oh boy, did he. He wasn't nice about it either. His hands twisted your hair around his fist as he shoved you down his length. Groaning as he felt himself hit the back of your throat. "Not so talkative now, are you?"

He thrusted into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. His stomach muscles tensing each time you swallowed him. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the rough treatment, but he saw the way your body trembled. You were getting off to this. He clicked his tongue, "You're so annoying-fuck, your mouth is annoying." Cyno pulled you off with force, turning you around again. Pressing your body against the wall, taking no time to enter your needy hole. His hands gripped your hips so hard he was sure there'd be bruises there; good.

The pace was brutal, skin slapping against skin. Your front scratched against the harsh texture of the wall, but you couldn't bother to care. He was hitting so deep within you that you even dared to spew more lines. Only making him fuck you harder. He tugged you back by your hair, your body arching in impossible positions.

"Fuck, I hate you." He chanted, sweat forming at his brow as he fucked that hatred into you. "This is the punishment you deserve." He practically spit, speeding up his thrusts until he was eventually filling you with his cum.

When he says it like that, it makes it hard not to be on his bad side.

Scara

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that you hated Scara. He always found ways to get under your skin and annoy you to the point you often vividly pictured punching him in the face. The annoying smirk he always wore when he'd tell you how stupid you were. Or berate you for breathing in his space. You weren't even in the same room.

You hated him, yet you always found yourself beneath him. Annoyingly holding your thighs upright so he could poke at your waiting sex. Slipping his fingers inside, immediately plunging them in and out. Laughing as your body shook from pleasure but you still held a scowl on your face. And you always made a point of gesturing to his quickly hardening cock. That it was disgusting how aroused he got touching you like this.

And he always made a point of telling you the same.

"Me? You should see you. Pathetic. Your body craves me even though I'm rough with you. If anyone's disgusting, it's you." And you hated how those words only made you more excited. It was all his fault, and you hated him for it. Especially when he was done making a mess of your arousal, only to smear it across your lips. His free hand guiding himself inside you, hissing. Once fully seated inside you, he fucked without pause. Thrusting so hard that his balls slapped against your skin. Your legs cramped from the position and the feeling of him so deep. But you didn't stop, whining about how you didn't enjoy this. How he was a terrible fuck as you proceeded to clench around him.

"That's not what your body is saying," he chuckled. You hated him. You hated how right he was.

And when he finally came, pulling himself out quickly to paint your face white. His cum sticking to your lashes and speckled across your cheeks. You couldn't help but think–you hated how much you wanted to do this again.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆ Next.

[snaxle]

just saw someone say the reason bi lesbians are problematic is because they're inclusive of radfems, and that bi lesbians spew terf rhetoric. i dont know what kinda secret alternate universe you're living in where terfs are supportive of mspec identities but im begging you to turn on your brain cells for longer than 5 seconds at a time and then go outside instead of wallowing in queer twitter discourse made by 15 year olds 10 hours every day you fucking idiots.

terfs dont fucking like bi lesbians. terfs would rather watch us either kill ourselves than ever support our identities.

"i hate mspec lesbians because they tell people who hate men that they're sharing terf beliefs, which is exactly what terfs want!!" have you literally never seen a terf's account before in your life? they fucking hate men and want everyone in the world to know that every single man in the world no matter how old they are that they're gross ugly creatures who all hate women and want nothing more than to prey on the downfall of all women. yea, even those 6 and 12 year old boys that live next door to you. so yea, while you're posting your quirky little "i hate all men they're disgusting 🙄" posts every three days for your 400 twitter followers, you're 100% spewing terf rhetoric!! no that doesnt mean you're a fucking terf but you're sharing into their beliefs and spreading their agenda every time you do this shit which is what they want!!!!

"the term lesbian is already inclusive of trans and nonbinary people, so using the term bi/mspec lesbian is problematic because you dont think trans people can be lesbians!" look me in the eyes. do you genuinely, honest to god think that terfs care about that. do you genuinely think terfs are okay with trans people calling themselves a lesbian. terfs dont fucking care, they still want you to either detransition and realize how "evil" being trans is and follow in their beliefs, or they want you dead. a nonbinary trans man who uses he/him pronouns calling himself a bi lesbian is literally the least of your fucking worries.

i am trans and bigender. even if i just called myself solely a lesbian without the extra labels, terfs still wont fucking accept me because i am not a pure innocent 100% woman. they will not accept me even when i tell them i feel more like a woman most days than i do a man because i am not their definition of what a woman should be. "it doesnt matter what terfs say, lesbian is still inclusive of trans people!" no, it's only inclusive of trans people that you deem are good and women enough to use the label.

people love going around talking about how they're so so supportive of any and all identities and then immediately turn around and be like "hmmm but not Yours." i could be the most perfect woman in the world, but the second i so much as mention i think a man looks attractive, then i am not being a lesbian the Right way.

so who the fuck cares anymore. who cares if i use the term bisexual lesbian to identify myself? im already doing it all wrong supposedly, so who cares if im more of a problem than i already am? the queer people im supposed to share a community with would rather side on the side of terfs because im not being a lesbian in the supposedly Correct way, and no matter what i say to try defending myself I'll never be seen as a true and proper lesbian because random strangers on the internet i will never meet ever in my life has already dictated that I'm not good enough. that my existence is problematic and harmful to everyone else, completely ignorant of the fact that they're unwillingly sharing in the beliefs of transphobes, homophobes and conservatives who would like nothing more than to wipe us all out instead of standing together as a community.

but you know, putting bi lesbians on your dni or whatever is more important.

[trykefag]

Hi.... :] before we get into this I wanna say one (1) thing: I'm pro-Palestine AND (shocker) pro-Israel. I'm hitting a hornets nest tagging this with pro-Palestine when how I view being for Palestine is so drastic to others' views.

Any sort of harassment or antisemitism will be reported and you will be blocked. We don't hate Jews or Israelis here. Also, if you tag this post with "to the river to the sea Palestine will be free" you're ignorant and dunno what the fuck you're saying.

This post is lengthy (imo) and just my personal spew on stuff, it's nothing like...revolutionary lol. I just need to get shit out somehow.

I don't get the anti-Israel crowed like....they know nothing and its so baffling they'll just say shit they don't understand the concept or history of. You can be pro-Israel and hate the Israeli government, you can be pro-Palestine while also realizing that the history is very convoluted and if you did a simple YouTube search about history on Palestine and Israel you'd be more educated. You can be both pro-Israel and pro-Palestine...shocker I know!

I've learned more from YouTube than in history class. I've also learned that antisemitism is very easy to fall into, which is something I knew but didn't understand. Pro-Palestinians I don't doubt actually care, I'd love to think most Pro-Palestinians actually give a fuck about the murders that're happening! The downside is that they're falling and repeating shit the fucking Nazis would say in the name of activism and see NO ISSUE. (Saying "gas the Jews" and holding up Nazi flags is, even in the name of activism, antisemetic.)

I try and not be cynical, but like there's literal dog whistles and antisemetic shit being spoken about and there's signs being put up that says "No Jews" and there's even fucking Tumblr blogs with "Jews DNI" on them. (I've seen them, they're very much real. Most of them have "Zionists DNI" which is usually just a dog whistle to Jews, but I digress.)

Don't get me started on fucking Zionism actually, no one knows what the fuck that is and they claim they do when they don't. It's so brain numbing!

"Go back to where you came from!" that'd be Israel....which you wanna get rid of. That's also what Zionism is btw. Jews are from Israel...please Google things before you open your yapper.

I can only find solace in the Jumblr tag (& similar ones) because they have knowledge about what the fuck is going on and I won't get called a "Zionist Nazi"!

In the face of chaos I will say that studying and my plans to convert one day is the best decision I've ever made; you can't get rid of Jews, no matter how much you want us gone. Reading the Torah, researching about Israel, learning the culture, the food, the language, etc. It's healing and I'm glad to be coming home slowly but surely. Am yisrael chai.

[lovejosephquinn]

Under 18's DNI, my smutty thoughts taking over again. Just a little bedtime reading of your own. Sweet dreams.

Picture this:

Joe ploughing into you from behind whilst wearing his reading glasses as he forgot to take them off when you threw the book he was reading away from him and straight onto the floor, practically giving him the come to bed eyes, but not in the regular context; just plain put that book down and fuck me hard eyes. His first response was to make you go onto all fours, spitting down onto your hole and his member, preparing you both for what was about to come, no foreplay intended, you'd started a fire in him and you didn't expect the full pelt fucking you were in for, hard is what you wished for, harder is what you'll get.

You move your head round to see him throwing his own head back, moaning your name as his cock drives into your cunt at a rapid pace, you love seeing him like this, it only makes your walls clench around his erection, tightening up the space which makes him groan louder. His hand which once held your hips in place at the start now coming down lashing your ass sore, not once, not twice, but three times, whimpering into the pillow that his other hand has leaned over to push your head down into, calling you every name under the sun, his personal favourite is his pretty little slut, cock hungry slut if you'll spare the details. His thrusts become messy as he drags out his thick shaft, placing it in between your ass cheeks and using it to jerk himself, spewing hot cum up into the air and over onto your back.

He's not done, he forces you down onto your back, lifting his glasses up and putting them on top of his head, fiercely pushing your thighs open and plunging his face straight into your slit, taking every ounce of dignity away from you. Not like there was any left. It was almost like a hate fuck and he was taking out his frustrations on you, all because you'd interrupted his bedtime reading. He makes you cum hard from his mouth alone, the muscles of his tongue working at full relentless speeds to get you there. You're spent. But his cock's ready for round two, instead of letting you rest he pulls your feet up onto his shoulders, going back in for more.

It was a lesson you'd never forget, but you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

[riaarivic]

HATE 10: UGH! (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: Minor character death, drugs, foul language, mentions of organized crime. If any of theses topics make you unconfortable, please don't read this chapter. This is a mafia au, and organized crime is not all handsome boys and nice cars. This chapter and the next one are DARK.

So, if any of this triggers you, see you on chapter 12. Don't worry, you'll still understand the story. But no, this is not a filler chapter.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in real life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment purposes.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 5k (the longest one yet)

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 10: UGH! (M) I MYG x F!reader

Rage? Of course you need it When it burns up there's always a reason Mayhaps it’s our history Sometimes it changes the world

Anger.

That was all Suga could feel right now. 

Red, hot, flaming anger.

That’s all he could feel since he received the call from JHope telling him that you had been kidnapped and no one knew where you were.

But the worst was when he learned who was suspected for your disappearance.

The Jade Dragon.

Of course anger was necessary.

He felt like a man about to lose his sanity.

But before he did…

He would kill a few men first.

The dimly-lit interrogation room was filled with the stench of sweat and fear. Suga stood across from an old man in cuffs, his ruined demeanor did not change the fact that he once was one of the most powerful men in the Asian mafia clans.

Wang Jiaer. 

The former second in command of the Jade Dragon.

That Kim Dohan captured and thrown into a wet, dimly lit room in the basement of the Seven Moons Mansion. 

Like a fallen warrior. 

That was turned into a war souvenir for Kim DoHan. 

"Where is she?" Suga demanded.

The old man coughed, spewing blood on the concrete floor of the dimly lit basement. He grimaced, his wrinkled face twisting into a grotesque smile. “Still haven’t learned any manners I see, young man.”

Suga glowered at the former leader of Jade Dragon, his grip tightening on the baseball bat in his hands. “You seem awfully cheerful for a dead man, old timer.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man stammered, his eyes darting around the room. The old man chuckled. “I’ve been dead for 20 years, boy. Your Leader just didn’t have the balls to finish the job.” His grin widened, showcasing his blood stained teeth. “Not like you.”

Suga swung the bat, smashing the old man’s fingers with a sickening crack. The man shrieked, his pained cries echoing in the empty basement.  "Where is she?" she asked for a second time.

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "What makes you think that I would know something about it? I'm here," he said, lifting his hand to show the cuffs “and my clan is done for, your Leader made sure of it.”

"Because nothing happens above ground without you hearing about it," Suga replied, his eyes narrowing. "And I don’t know, the pile of bodies with a pretty memo sitting on Jhope’s bay with your clan emblem on it, might really send a message.” 

The young gangster rounded the table that stood between them to be in front of the old man “I am going to ask only one more time. We’ll see how many more parts of you I’ll have to break before you die,” He paused “Where is Lee NaRi?”

The old man panted, his mangled fingers twisting at unnatural angles. But his eyes glinted with amusement. “Still don’t have the stomach for this, do you boy?”

Suga grabbed the old man’s collar and hauled him up from the chair, growling into his bruised face. “Do not fucking test me, Wang”

The old man chuckled. “You bark loud but your bite is lacking. I told you, the Jade Dragon clan is finished. I have been your family’s pet for 2 decades, I know nothing.”

The man gave him a low chuckle. "But I did hear about that, corpse container. Nice touch, a litte on the dramatic side. Not our style though" he paused and leaned towards Suga. “Oh, yes. You look just like your father, boy. He must be very proud in whatever deep corner of hell he ended up...”

“I DO NOT HAVE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR GAMES, WANG!” Suga screamed at the man’s face, interrupting him, his gaze piercing. "And my father is Kim Dohan. He is very much alive," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Start talking, and if you say something of value I might give you something you want."

"You and I both know that is not your father's name. And what do you know about what I want, young man?" the man asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Death” Suga said simply “you know there’s nothing for you outside these walls anymore. You want release”

“Oh, no. I want retribution, young man. I want Kim Dohan’s entire bloodline to suffer and disappear from the face of the Earth. I want that everything he has ever wanted to be suddenly ripped from his bloody hands… and only then, I want to die” Suga could see the warrior inside the old second in command; he was beaten, malnourished, there wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t bruised.

But he still commanded power. 

Suga let out a tired sigh knowing there was no other way to make Wang talk. So he let go of the baseball bat he had on his hands to bow his head.

“Please.” 

His men behind him looked at him in shock.

One of the young leaders of The Seven Moons was…

Beggin.

Even the old second in command couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. But he semed to be pleased.

“You must really care for this girl If you are willing to trade your pride for her” The old man sighed and tried to stand up, but his bruised legs could not let him. He extended one hand to take Suga’s “We did not do it. That is all I know. We are not responsible for the girl’s disappearance.” His voice was a dead man's sincerity. Suga knew he wasn't lying.

He didn't have to.

“Then who took her? Someone else is pulling the strings, someone on the inside. They knew where she was going and that she only had one bodyguard with her.  Was it...was it my brother? Was it Namjoon?” Suga tried and failed to not let his voice break. 

Anger was starting to wear off. 

And something else was bubbling inside him.

The old man sighed, shaking his head with an incredulous smile. “Your family and your trust issues. Always so quick to turn on your own blood.” His eyes glinted ominously. “The person responsible for the girl’s kidnapping is the same person who is responsible for the death of your father and the disappearance of your mother”

“My mother is dead.”

“Did you see a body? Listen young boy, you came here looking for the truth. And this is the only one I can give you. After all this time, at least you showed some manners and I owe it to her.” The old man paused and he knew he was waiting for him to continue “Your Leader killed your grandfather. To start the clan wars and then he killed your father. But Kim DoHan could never kill your mother”

The room went silent. 

Like the moment right after a lighting strikes.

Suga was waiting for the thunder. 

“Your mother is alive. Young man, and I think is time you go see her, she will know where the girl is. If you can find her first.” The look on Suga's face was a mix of confusion and anger. 

“I gave you what you wanted and I kept my promise” the man whispered. “Now give me what I want” 

With a swift move Suga got his gun outside his holster and shot the old man right between his eyes.

 

Death.

A clean shot. 

There it was, the thunder.

 

The terrifying sound hat announced the beginning of the storm that was starting to brew on Suga’s soul. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Location unknown, South Korea

Tap...

Tap...

Tap...

A leak was falling from the ceiling, the lack of windows and the artificial light coming in from the other room told you that you were in some sort of basement.

You were starting to regain consciousness and your survival instinct kicked in immediately.

Your brain was on agent mode observing everything that could tell you anything about where you were and who were your captors. 

Your eyes started traveling around the room, the walls are made of rough concrete, with no decorations or furnishings to make the space more comfortable. A metal door with a small window and a sliding bolt lock separates the basement from the rest of the building, making escape impossible.

The only furniture in the room is a mattress on the floor, a bucket in the corner for waste disposal, and a small table with a lamp and a chair where the protagonist's captor might sit to watch over her. The air is musty and stale, with a faint smell of dampness and mildew.

Remember every fucking thing you see, there is no time for a panick attack. You thought. 

Pay attention. 

You could distinguish a factory logo on the wall in front of you.

There were no such buildings in Seoul, so you must be on the outskirts?

Unless, you had been moved to another state while you were unconscious.

You could also tell that you were nowhere near the coast by the absence of saltpeter in the structures. 

You knew that at least three men were in charge of you, all carrying firearms and pocket knives.

But from what you had seen they had no clan markings.

Not a single tattoo.

Nothing to identify them.

That was strange...

That was all you had been able to discover so far, you weren’t sure how long you had been in that room

They kept you drugged, almost unconscious for the most part. But you could guess that it had been at least a day because they had fed you twice.

So far none of the men had spoken to you, they just went in to bring you food and came back out. Without looking at you, if you spoke to them they did not respond.

You heard them speaking in a dialect you could not quite place. But you knew it was from China.

Which was weird. 

The members from the Jade Dragon were all from Beijing, a few of them from some northern regions. 

But you were almost sure they were speaking in Wu. 

Which was fucking weird. 

Because the Shanghai triad did not work with the Jade Dragon. 

Not at all.

You said it two times before.

It was weird.

You were sitting on a mattress that seemed to be dirtier than the floor itself; with your hands starting to feel numb from the restraints that immobilized you. Your head hurt a little and you could still hear a ringing in your ears from the loud blow you had taken.

You were almost sure that you had a concussion and that the head wound was going to leave a scar... 

At the very least.

You knew it was useless to try to escape even if she broke free of your restraints because you had been unconscious when you were taken there. You had no idea  how far you were from the exit, nor how many men might be outside the place.

You were very good in combat  but going outside like this was suicide. 

Fuck.

You knew perfectly well the dangers you were exposing yourself to every time you accepted a mission. This was not the first time you have been in such a situation.

There were some scars on your skin that were proof of how dangerous your job was.

And then…

There were the other scars you couldn't see.

Those really hurt.

You had to stay calm.

Your best hope was that you would be found soon.

At least you hoped so.

No, you knew Yoongi would look for you.

Hopefully he was going to find you alive.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Suga just killed a man. 

And he was about to kill another. 

Specifically the one who let you leave the house with only one bodyguard.

“Namjoon!” Suga kicked open the doors to the meeting room where all his brothers were. “If even one hair on her head isn't intact when we find her, I'm going to kill you. It's a fucking promise”

Suga was past the point where he could control himself.

Anger was a fire that consumed everything in its path and the Second in Command would be the first target.

“Suga. Know. Your fucking. Place” Namjoon, who was sitting on the top of the table, barked each of the words as an order “I won't let you talk to me that way.”

The black-haired man let out a sinister laugh “Ah, you won’t? Then tell me brother, how is it that Nari, who is supposed to be our greatest responsibility, left this house without enough protection? “He paused when he was in front of him “With your permission?”

On the meeting room’s table you could see open computers and messy papers sprawled everywhere you looked.

To say that the seven Moons were in chaos was an understatement.

And what made things worse The Leader sent them a clear message:

He will not help them find the young heiress. 

You were their responsibility. 

And whatever happened to you. 

Kim DoHan swore to his sons, he would do it to them.

“I don't have to explain anything I do to you, Suga” Namjoon looked right into his eyes. Even if Suga was raging like a demon fresh out of hell, the Second in Command was intimidating. A calm sinister demeanor surrounding him. 

“You don't have to explain yourself?!? “ That was enough for the clan’s shadow to lose control and throw the first punch straight to his face “You break a promise, you lose a finger remember? Didn't we all swear to protect our father?” Suga screamed right at Namjoon’s face, Jhope tried to separate them but The eldest brother held him back. 

“This is on them,” he said.

Suga threw a second punch and this time Namjoon didn't dodge it, he let him hit him again “Do it then.” He took out a knife from his coat pocket “Start by cutting my finger. But after you finish with mine, you are next. Or did you forget that we also swore not to touch her?” The black-haired man's eyes widened, he knew he wasn't doing a good job of hiding his nightly trips to the girl's window.

The taller one held the knife by the edge of the blade hard enough for drops of blood to start dripping on the expensive fur rug. “Did you think no one would find out that you spend every night in her room? Weren't you supposed to follow her everywhere? Why didn't you follow her today? Where were you at the beauty salon?” 

Shit.

As hard as it was for him to admit it, he had failed you too.

This morning he had decided to go to settle some unfinished business instead of following you as he had been doing since the day you arrived in Seoul.

That made his blood boil even more.

But he wasn't going to explain himself to that jerk Namjoon.

“No answer? How about this one, do you think father doesn't already know what you have been doing? I'm going to find her Suga, and when I do I'm going to make sure of two things.” Namjoon paused, the light seemed to drain from his eyes, replaced by a menacing darkness. “The first thing I’ll make sure of is that you never touch her again. And the second one is that you are completely out of the clan's inheritance” he finished his voice sounding more like a growl. 

“You know what the funniest thing is Kim Namjoon? That you think you deserve everything, that you can control everything. Just because for now you are the right hand of the clan.” The other brothers were standing still in the room, none of them could challenge their Second in Command. 

Never like that.

Unless you were Suga and didn't give a shit if you lost a finger or your whole arm “Do you think your pathetic attempt to intimidate me really works? Go ahead, cut off your own finger and keep spilling blood on the carpet. It won't be a waste, after all you're not the true heir to this clan's legacy.... “ 

“That's enough hyungs, damn it! While you two are playing who has the biggest dick or the purest blood or some other ridiculous bullshit. Nari-Noona is somewhere scared, alone and who knows what they might be doing to her.” To everyone's surprise, the youngest of the brothers was the one who dared to interrupt them “For God's sake, a week ago they sent us a container of corpses, what do you think they're going to do to the heir of this clan?”

Suga and Namjoon turned in surprise to look at their younger brother, there were very few occasions when JK was disrespectful to them “We are wasting time, because in the best case scenario... they are going to kill her”

And in the best case scenario The Leader would kill them for failing in their mission.

“You are right, Joon,"  Jin, who was sitting at the other end of the table, stood up to look at his brothers. "This is the third time we are under direct attack, so I called my police contacts. Every inch of Seoul has at least one surveillance camera and Miss Nari was kidnapped in the only place where there wasn't one. They have contacts, at least with the security department.”

Seokjin was always the most controlled of the brothers, every step he took was well calculated. So many years involved with the high forces of his country's politics had taught him to remain calm in crisis.

And even if he couldn't get any answers, something was very wrong.

“I have 5 Hacker squads trying to trace her digital footprint, there is nothing, she disappeared” Jhope was the next one to speak “We are all worried, but this is already bordering on ridiculous, you have to stop fighting.” The others nodded in agreement with what the brown-haired man had just said.

Suga threw the knife to the ground and made an exasperated sound “You're right, I'm wasting my time with you.” He finally said and crossed the doors that would lead him to the mansion’s garden. 

When Suga was outside the house he felt someone grab him by the arm “Hey, the fuck is happening to you? You're not like that Hyung” it was Jhope who had followed him from the other room, clearly worried about him “Why are you so worked up? Are you... are you in love with her?”

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Hope”  he answered trying to hide any emotion on his face.

Indifference was his best weapon.

But not with Jhope.

The younger man's eyes softened a little as he understood his brother's expression “Please don't lie to me, Hyung. I've known you since we were kids and we've both taken a bullet for each other...but if I was kidnapped today you wouldn't lose your head. Not like this.”

It was true, he had taken a bullet for Jhope years ago in the middle of a shootout but he probably wouldn't have a catfight in the middle of the room with Namjoon to protect him.

Probably.

“Let me rephrase the question. Do you care that much?” Suga knew he couldn’t lie to Jhope, his younger brother knew him too well. He could see through his every facade. 

The thing is, he didn't know the answer himself.

Did he like having sex with you? Hell yes.

Did he like talking to you? Yes, he did.

Did he like the way you smiled at him right before you kissed him or the way you looked at him when he told you one of his twisted stories?

Like you didn’t judge him. 

Like you understood him. 

Like you didn't see him as a monster, but as a man.

Oh, shit.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙  Last night...

“Tell me the stupidest thing you've ever done to get someone’s attention” Suga had asked you the night before while you were both still lying naked on your bed.

You let out an amused laugh “You have probably already seen it on my body. It 's embarrassing.” 

Suga laughed with you, the sound was warm and his eyes were locked on yours “Nothing on your body is embarrassing to me.” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Be serious” 

“I am” he pushed a rouge strand of hair behind your ears and you decided to continue talking before you got distracted with other things” 

“When I was 16 I got a Star Wars tattoo because the boy I liked liked Star Wars. I wanted to surprise him the first time he saw me naked he would see the jedi symbol” now you both started laughing “Don't judge me, haven't you done something stupid to get someone's attention?”

“Maybe.” Was the only thing he answered. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Here 's the thing.

Suga had gone to a tattoo parlor this morning.

That was his unfinished business.

He was getting a fucking Star Wars tattoo on his ribs. 

Right where you had it. 

He hasn't even watched the movies. 

Not even the new ones.

Oh, he was down bad.  And now he had to go see his dead mother.

Scratch that.

He had to go see his un-dead mother.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Somewhere else in the house.

“The fuck do you mean you didn’t do this. This is not what we agreed on.” Namjoon's deep voice could barely be heard inside The Leader’s office. The tall man was standing in front of the window as he spoke into the phone “Then fucking find her Yong or I’ll make sure you are going to wish I kill you.” 

Yong.

The rumored dragon head of the triad.

The Second in command of the Seven Moons, had given the order to kidnap you. 

On his scheme to secure his place as the heir. 

He needed that for his plan to work. 

When you told him this morning that you were going to visit Grace and that you didn't need so many people following you around, the young gangster thought it was the perfect opportunity to put the next part of his plan into action.

But something went horribly wrong. 

And now he was the one who was betrayed.

“What have you done Namjoon-ah?” The voice of the eldest brother brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at him completely surprised  “Out of all the people I thought would betray our father, I would never think of you.”

“Hyung... “

“Just tell me that, whatever you're doing, you won't hurt Miss Nari, Joon. If there is someone innocent in all this, it's her.” Jin finished entering the office looking at his brother with disbelief. 

Seokjin looked at him with the eyes of an older brother. Hopefully waiting for all this to be a mistake. 

Because if Namjoon betrayed his father. 

He was a dead man walking.

But the elder also knew very well the resentment that Namjoon had grown up with. If someone has been hurt by Kim DoHan, it was his own son. Although he wanted to be wrong, Seokjin knew well what was in his younger brother's heart.

Revenge.

And that was not far from his own feelings.

“I came to think that all this love triangle, teenage fiction with Suga really meant that you liked the girl.” He poured himself a shot of the expensive whiskey that his father had in the office and let out a sigh before drinking it all at once “You will have to explain everything very well to understand you, Joon-ah”

Jin was the closest person to Namjoon in the clan, he saw him as an older brother. As a child he was the example of what he wanted to become one day, he hated to see that look of disappointment in his eyes “Hyung, you know perfectly well what my reasons are, I'm not going to stand by and wait for Kim DoHan to take away what is rightfully mine and hand it over on a silver platter to that asshole. She's just a means to an end.”

Before the younger one continued, Jin interrupted him, "If you want me to help you, you have to explain everything without lying to me this time.”

Kim Seokjin was the eldest of the seven moons.

And like all of them, he had lost much more than he had earned in all this time.

He would give all his money, cars, luxuries, fine clothes and contacts to have his family back with him.

But that was impossible.

And for the impossible, there is only revenge.

Break a promise, lose a finger.

If that really applied in the Seven Moon’s clan as it should, they would  have had all their hands and feet cut off.

Anger was an uncontrollable fire that burned everything in its path, it was useful, yes.

But for both clan leaders, retribution was much better and more satisfying.

A calm sea that was about to turn into a Tsunami.

A cold wave that will destroy everything on it's path.

Many games were played within the walls of the mansion of the 7 moons.

And your time was running out.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙  Hello!!! I'm sorry it took too long! I got sick and I was so tired I couldn't even read... much less write. BUT I'm catching up with all of you that are sending me messages, thank you you guys are so sweet!! 🥹 I mean, everytime someone says they're enjoying Hate! Makes me giggle like a teenager. Let me be honest, I'm enjoying writing this just as much. This chapter turned out to be one of my favs 👀 I wasn't like this on my original story and I am really liking how it is turning out.

Anyway, Hope you liked this one too!! Ps. I have Hate!11 Almost ready... what do you say double update tomorrow??

From the bottom of my chicken heart,

Thank you.

Love,

Ria 🌙

Tag List @drunkzseok @allamericanuniverse @catlove83 @baby-cherry @officialholyagua

If you want to join the tag list. You can coment this post or send me an ask!

[zombiebastian]

Introduction

My name is Sebastian and this blog will mainly be about my artworks (although I occasionally will probably post things like character headcanons or random character analysis essays) I draw a lot of stuff but mainly fanart of my favourite shows, characters and video games such as:

Beavis and Butthead

Jojos Bizarre Adventure

Resident Evil

Gorillaz

Sally Face

Sonic The Hedgehog

My Little Pony

South Park (I don't draw much fanart of South Park but this may change later)

Alice Madness Returns

Sabrina: Secrets Of A Teenage Witch (2014)

Attack On Titan

Black Butler

Highschool DXD

Helluva Boss

Hazbin Hotel

Death Note

Saw (I don't draw much fanart of Saw either but again this may change

What else am I gonna be doing? Well I really like Halloween and I may draw some halloween themed stuff even when its not October, I'm the type of guy who suddenly gets into the Christmas and Halloween spirit when its not that time of year yet, I especially like zombies and vampires

Rules about comissions

If you want to commission an artwork from me that's totally okay as long as my asks are open, but here are the rules

I will not draw anything too explicit like hardcore s3xual activities, I will draw things that are risqué like characters in revealing clothing or suggestive flirting, but if it involves nudity, intercourse or anything like that then I will not do so, if you're not sure about something you'd like to commission just ask in your... Well ask

I will draw gore but it will be mainly cartoony, and I'm a bit iffy when it comes to stuff involving torture, when I draw gore I mainly do zombie or Frankenstein's monster type creatures and not people being tortured or murdered

You don't need to pay me, I'm not interested in money this is all just for fun

I do draw ships, even most of the ones I don't agree with. However if the ship is illegal (sibling x sibling, adult x child, stuff like that) I'm not comfortable drawing it, I'm not big on the whole "anti-proship" thing (yeah its gross but at the end of the day I don't get too pissy about fictional characters, when I see proship content I just ignore it, in fact half the proshippers I've seen ship teenage jojo characters with adults and if I'm being 100% honest teenage jojo characters don't even look or act like teens, not saying I support it buts its better than loli and shota stuff) but still I don't really want to draw that stuff

DNI

I think most DNI lists are a bit stupid because unless you block people it doesn't really stop anyone from interacting with you, for example if you put "DNI racists" I understand not wanting those types of people interacting with you but its not gonna magically stop a racist person from associating with your posts, if you see someone saying something racist or something you think is discriminatory just block them, in fact if you put DNI in your bio they'll probably want to interact even more just to troll you

However, I'm using this as a time to talk about something I do not want to see on my blog, politics, talk about it on your blog if you want, even if I didn't want you to talk about politics at all its not like I could stop you, but don't come onto my blog spewing political crap in my comments or asks

I do not care what your political views are if you're a leftist or a conservative or whatever, I hate all of it when I'm just trying to have fun on here. So please, no going on about how much you hate Trump, how society isn't fair to certain groups of people, the latest controversial JK Rowling tweet or whats going on in Palestine and Israel, I'll worry about all that when I'm not in a mood to draw stuff and have fun

About me

Well I don't really want to talk about anything too personal here like my romantic or sexual preferences, but here are some things I am alright talking about

I have autism, but I don't think this makes me special or anything like that, yes autism does make me quite different from most people but that is okay and I wouldn't be the person who I am today without it. I'm also not one to list my mental illnesses and disabilities but I'm just putting autism here in case another autistic person is reading and wants to know they're not alone

I have a lot of interests but you already know that

My favourite colour is green

My favourite YouTubers are DanTDM, Stampylonghead, Markiplier, Kub scoutz, LaurenZside, Bijuu Mike SML (Super Mario Logan), Memeulous, Saberspark, Daz Games Phantomstrider, Superhorrorbro, Penguinz0 and Tuv

I'm a guy, but you've probably figured that out as well because Sebastian is a more masculine name

I am a brony

Ever since I read it when I was 11, my favourite book is Holes by Louis Sachar

Some of my other favourite music artists (apart from Gorillaz) are 6arelyhuman, Lady Gaga, Tuv (ik he is one of my favourite YouTubers but he does music too), Michael Jackson, Alan Walker (mainly because of nostalgia), Melanie Martinez and The Living Tombstone

I also like songs/soundtrack from movies/musicals like The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, The Little Mermaid, Labyrinth, Anastasia, The Lion King, Mulan, Tangled, Aladdin, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Heathers and Little Shop Of Horrors

Despite many of my favourite movies being Disney movies, I hate modern Disney with their stupid remakes and dumb modern movies, heck they couldn't even get their 100th anniversary right, what kind of universe are we living in where a Disney movie is beaten by an Adam Sandler film?!

My favourite Beavis and Butthead character is Butthead

My favourite Jojos Bizzare Adventure character is Dio Brando

My favourite Resident Evil character is Leon S Kennedy

My favourite Gorillaz band member is Murdoc Niccals

My favourite Sally Face character is Sal Fisher

My favourite Sonic The Hedgehog character is Shadow

My favourite My Little Pony character is Fluttershy (in the Equestria Girls universe my favourite is Sunset Shimmer tho)

My favourite South Park character is either Kenny McCormick or Eric Cartman

My favourite Black Butler character is Sebastian Michaelis (guess why, lmao)

My favourite Alice Madness Returns character is Alice Liddell

My favourite Sabrina: Secrets Of A Teenage Witch (2014) character is Shinji

My favourite Highschool DXD character is Asia Argento

My favourite Helluva Boss character is Stolas

My favourite Hazbin Hotel character is Angel Dust

My favourite Death Note character is L

My favourite Saw character is Adam Stanheight (aka very fucking confused)

Anyways

Thanks for reading my weird introduction, I appreciate it and even if you don't want to commission anything or stick around thats totally fine, I wish you well mate

[plothooksinc]

For the writer truth and dare ask meme: 🧩🛼🍄(platonic pairings, since I know you don't ship much) :3

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Improper formatting. WALLS OF TEXT. Multiple people speaking in the same paragraph. Constant and atrocious misspelling of the character's names. Your story might be great, but if I can't follow it, I'm not gonna give it a chance.

Also: people who use their tags or author's note to spit on any section of the fandom. I'm not talking about a simple "TCEST DNI" or whatever here because while I don't think those have any point, I get it. But if you follow that up with 2-3 tags/lines of how tcesters/ship enjoyers/any other group is gross and scum and should die in a fire, you've put a bad taste in my mouth and your story is already ruined for me, because it feels like continuing to read means I'm going HELL YEAH to whatever hate you're spewing. (Y'all can hate TCEST/kink/that random character all you want, I totally get it. But I'm here to read your fic, not be an awkward audience to your bitching.)

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🧩🐀🗝️🐢📎

:D

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

...see, this is putting me on the spot because I can't think of a single one. I'm just not the come-up-with-headcanons type. I mean-- I get a distinct impression in my head of how characters are personality-wise and how they will react to the Situations (TM) but I'm mostly drawing off canon and the things that are not strictly in canon are flavourings I tend to come up with spur of the moment and don't really think about too hard? I... do not know how to explain that better. Clearly if you read my stuff, Headcanons Are Involved, but I don't have anything concrete because to me the characters are malleable from story to story, and I tend to stick with the most plausible consistency canon will give me and add embellishments to that.

In short, I have no idea how to answer this question. This is the same as being asked what my favourite colour scheme is. Some things I just do not know, I just know while I'm implementing them in a very subconscious kind of way. (Yes, I'm not making sense. LMAO. Sorry!)

This is probably why a lot of my stories tend to be action adventure/continuations of canon and not like the deep dives that other authors do into angst and horrible emotional trauma. I'm just shallow as fuck, apparently. 8|a

Thank you!

Writing Truth or Dare questions here!

[finniestoncrane]

Hello, congratulations on the milestone! I only discovered your blog recently but I’m already so in love with your writing, you deserve every bit of appreciation and love thrown your way <3

I would like to Sit-In and order some Water in the meantime. I’ll gladly have some Pumpkin Ravioli (Arkham Knight plz plz!) with a side of Sliders, some Chicken Wings and a bowl of Steamed Rice and Seared Broccoli. (For a Female Reader with a strong personality?)

Thank you for organizing this event, the whole idea is super creative!

arkham!scarecrow x female!reader, word count: 400 content (warnings): angst, some comfort, but then right back to angst the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: ah thank you! that means so much to me omg ;-;💚

Jonathan was indignant, insulted entirely by the idea that you were attempting to convince him to turn himself in. Your assertion that things were going too far, that he was only going to hurt himself, was enough for him to realise that you were yet another person he couldn't trust. And yes, he was angry with you, but he was moreover angry with himself for being so foolish.

In reality, you were only trying to help. You could see how deep he was getting, how close to the edge of true insanity he teetered. All you wanted was for him to take a breath, stop for a moment and consider the implications of the cloudburst, the effects of his toxin if it took over an entire city.

"Jonathan, you're sick. Very sick. And being in denial about it is just a coping method. You of all people should know that."

"Please do not spew basic, and unwarranted, psychology at me. It's insulting."

"I'm just trying to help."

"No, you are making a last ditch attempt to save yourself. When the cloudburst has been detonated, you will suffer on the street like the rest, crawling on your knees to escape my greatness."

You took hold of his hand, clutching it tight as you looked into his eyes, forcing him to see you, to see himself reflected in your dark pupils. There was a moment, where the comfort of the physical touch threatened to heal him, to comfort him in this, his time of need. But he refused to let you through, even as you begged.

"Please, Jonathan. You'd really let everyone suffer like that? You would let me suffer like that?"

Every moment between you crossed through your mind, his brief glances, soft touches, a lingering hand that spoke more than his words ever could. Every time he had let you hold him, as he sat quietly, expressing nothing, but so much at the same time.

And in a final act of revenge, against life, against humanity, Jonathan pulled his hand away from your offer of comfort and walked away, speaking his last words to you loud enough that you could hear them from the distance he was making.

"I hate them. I hate you. Suffering is the cure."

[epickiya722]

Seriously though, coming from Twitter or not, if you're going to be here, here's some tips!

First, don't be a blank blog. If you have a blank blog, there is a 99.9% chance you will be blocked. Usually blank blogs are bots or just people with these accounts used to harass other people. If you're not that kind of person, you better start making posts or reblogging.

Second, speaking of reblogging! Biggest pet peeve is blank blogs liking content posts and not reblogging. How is an artist's work going to be seen here? Or a writer's story? If you want to see more creative content, START REBLOGGING THE CONTENT. IT HELPS ARTISTS, EDITORS, WRITERS, ETC.

You gotta follow people if you want to have a dashboard full of things you want to see. Follow people who have similar interests as you, or post fics and art you like. Don't claim your dash is "too boring". You have to follow people.

But be mindful of who you follow or allow to follow you. We have "DNIs" (Do Not Interact) here. A list of people we do not want to follow. If someone has "DNI if you're a minor" and you're a minor, DO NOT FOLLOW THEM. If they have a ship they don't like and they don't want those shippers to follow them, just don't.

PROPERLY TAG YOUR POSTS. For goodness sake, if you're going to make an anti post about a character you hate, put anti - and that character's name. Otherwise, people are going to think you're being an ass. If you have visible blood or violence on your post, put it so. Drawn or real.

People have triggers, be mindful of that. Don't cross boundaries. People don't want to just spew out their trauma, so don't force them to. Don't be an ass.

BLOCK PEOPLE WHO GET ON YOUR NERVES. It is not a cowardly move. People who say that it is are just trolls and bored with themselves. They aren't worth your time. If someone posts anti things about your comfort character, block them. If someone is transphobic and you're transgender, block them. Block people who make you feel uncomfortable. Keep your space healthy.

We have weird jokes here. Don't be surprised if you see a post with a screenshot of the crab rave or something about a Tumblr Sexyman. That is normal here.

You do not have to censor words like "death" or "penis". It's actually helpful you don't because people can just filter out those words without the need to block censored versions of them.

Rolling back to blank blogs, people here do make headers and icons that can be used. Use them. Reblog their posts to share their work and credit them. You can put "Icon Made By..." in your bio or on a pinned post.

Don't just randomly DM people. People are uncomfortable with that.

FEEL FREE TO ADD MORE!! I'M SURE I FORGOT SOME THINGS!!

[ddejavvu]

This was absolutely amazing.

imagine she walks in forgetting her phone on the chat or something and catches him whispering her name so she just automatically 🧎‍♀️ and goes “let me help you with that”

also requested: can you do a part 2 to this where she finds out and the next time it happens she just slips on and goes “let me help you with that” and she can’t keep quiet. So bets are being placed about who it is that Hotch has in his office

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Aaron felt like a horny teenager, whipping it out as soon as he was given a moment's peace. The door had barely shut behind you and he was already fumbling with the zipper of his slacks, embarrassingly hard under the desk.

He failed to notice the phone you'd left on your chair, too intently focused on the memory of your chest pressing together or your thighs bouncing as he evaluated you. All he could think of was you, your voice, your gaze, your smirk as you'd teased him.

Of course, you had to bounce back in at the worst possible moment. Aaron had just slipped his cock out of his boxers, achingly stiff, when you bounded back through the door, already spewing your reasoning for being there.

"Sorry! I forgot my-" Your eyes flew down to Aaron's lap and he wasn't able to scoot towards the desk to cover himself in time. He sat there, wide-eyed, staring at you while you mirrored his expression.

"Phone." You finished, something darker in your tone as you shut the door behind you. Aaron watched with a churning stomach as you sat down in the chair once more, surely about to tell him off for inappropriate behavior in the workplace.

You licked your lips.

His dick twitched.

"You seem.. busy." You stated, caution lacing your words, "Do you want me to leave?"

Did he have a choice?

"You're not, um," He started, his voice gruff, "You're not going to run for cover?"

You debated making a stupid joke, something about 'the splash zone', but refrained, shaking your head silently.

"Not unless you tell me to. This is.." You hesitated, picking at one of your nails and pointedly avoiding eye contact, "This is all up to you, Hotch."

Aaron, he thought, You've seen my dick, you can use my first name. But he didn't tell you that, instead he bit the inside of his cheek.

"Are you uncomfortable?" He tried, his eyes eagerly monitoring your expression. He saw no shift, your face carefully set in a neutral expression, though your eyes swirled with an emotion he couldn't decipher.

"If I was uncomfortable, I wouldn't be sitting here." You leaned back into your chair, your legs spreading, "Well? Go on, then. You've got me here. What, you're afraid to ogle me now that I know what you're doing?"

'I don't-" He started lamely, but you cut him off.

"You don't ogle me? Explain that." You gestured at his hard-on, and he hated to admit that you're right.

"Come on," You urged, eyes flashing with desire, "Unless you want my help?"

It felt like a dream come true. A wet dream, albeit, but a dream nonetheless. He blinked once, his hand tightening around his dick, "You're going to help me?"

"Is that what you want?" You raise an eyebrow at him, giving him one last out.

He doesn't take it, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, "Yes."

[qingxin-dream]

A Proper Punishment

a/n | haaa, april fools! get it? bc scaramouche wouldn’t actually fuck me :’) he’d probably just kill me. anyway, this is my first smut writing. like ever. so please take it easy on me lol. happy april everyone! (art credits: u/Cyclic_Abelian on reddit).

warnings | gender neutral pronouns + female-bodied reader, pet names, make-up sex, rough sex, oral (male receiving)/face-fucking, marking, slight degradation, choking, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, orgasm denial, breeding kink, Electro play

genre | smut (18+ only! minors dni!)

word count | 3.1k

pairing | scaramouche x reader

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩

For a man burdened with immortality, the few months tainted by your abrupt absence silently weighed on the Balladeer as if it had been centuries. Not a soul dared to speak your name in the presence of the Sixth Harbinger for fear of his unpredictable wrath. He wouldn't allow it. Invoking your name would be like searing a hot brand directly on his chest, a painful reminder that he was not going to endure this hardship for much longer.

Though the wound was invisible, perhaps if you asked his recruits they would tell you the agony in his dulled midnight-hued irises was too obvious to ignore. The harbinger was not the type to drown himself in his work, but by the Archons had he drove himself mad with every mission. His command was stricter with the lash of his venomous tongue at any perception of protest and camping early for the night was a thing of the past.

When he spared his soldiers a break for the day and retired to his tent to rest, the Balladeer would eventually wake irritably to a pillow soaked with that annoying, salty liquid leaking from his eyes. Grumbling, he'd messily throw the pillow around to its opposite side and curse his weakness for affecting him so. Heart or not—Scaramouche despised the new void devouring him from the inside out.

It is all your fault and he hates you for it.

You had promised to return to him in a couple weeks. You were only visiting your friends in Liyue you had lost contact with for awhile, you said. They were terribly worried about you, you said. Frankly, it was a miracle that you had persuaded him to let you leave his sight in the first place. Now his jaw only tenses at his foolishness. Even with the resources of the Fatui, the Sixth failed to locate you there.

Hell, had you lied about that too? Were you off with someone else in a hidden corner of Teyvat?

The thought sparks an unusual pang of jealousy and betrayal in the brooding puppet. He could feel his entire body freeze up as a million possibilities raced through his mind of what he'd say when he saw you again—what he'd do to you. By the end of it all, he vowed to convince you to never part ways with him again, as if you had a choice anyway. There were indeed punishments for such careless behavior.

Suddenly one of his recruits rush into his tent without warning, immediately drawing the ire of the Balladeer. "Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I’ll—”

“My lord, forgive my intrusion, but we found them! (Y/N) is entering the camp as we speak!” the masked soldier bows deeply and prays to Celestia that Scaramouche won’t fry him alive where he stands.

His lips purse cynically, catching himself before making any rash decisions despite his penchant for impulsivity begging otherwise. He couldn’t trust his Fatui recruits with spotting enemy activity a mile away, so how could they have located you?

The poor recruit glances nervously at the harbinger. The Balladeer’s eerie silence is much more intimidating than any of the nasty threats he spewed regularly. Before either could move to speak, the curtain of the tent parts once more.

“I’m back,” you announce, putting on a smile in hopes of quelling the rage that was no doubt bursting the seams of the puppet’s composure. Though you were absent longer than you anticipated, maybe your lover would be more inclined to embrace you happily than rip your limbs off in a blind fury. At least that is your hope with your friendly front.

“Leave,” Scaramouche nearly growls at the recruit, an ominous glimmer in his pupils. If the lowly Fatui soldier had waited a second longer to meet his gaze, he would’ve been privy to the pure, unadulterated expression of murder scribbled on Scaramouche’s face, delicately masked by a thinning thread of restraint. “Now.”

What little hope you had is crushed, a mere child’s fantasy. You expect as much, shoulders slumping in premature defeat. Once the soldier hastily exits the room, you attempt to apologize. “Listen, Scara, I’m so—”

“Sorry? Ha, spare me your pity. You should be on your knees right now begging for forgiveness… No, mercy, because I’m not sure if I have it in me to hear pathetic excuses,” Scaramouche scoffs and glowers at you, intently walking toward you to wrap his cold fingers around your throat. “You have made it clear you don’t know who you belong to, and I’ll have to remind you.”

“Wait, babe,” you tug lightly at his hand on your neck and grip the folds of the dark robe on his chest. You know you fucked up. Your friends had persuaded you to stay longer, and then manipulated you to never return to him. Between who you thought were your friends and the anger you knew was festering within your lover, you had chosen the coward’s path. “You don’t understand—”

“Don’t tell me what I do and do not know. You never sent a single letter. No correspondence. Nothing,” he squeezes your pretty throat dangerously. “You could’ve been dead. At this point, I might kill you myself for abandoning me.”

“I was a fool. My friends weren’t really my friends after all.” you pitifully whine, struggling to catch your breath a little and unable to peel his fingers off of you. “I would never do that to you.”

Leaning into your ear, you could feel the tingle of the harbinger’s hot breath on your sensitive skin, causing an embarrassing rush of blood to your cheeks. A slight shiver made you flinch beneath him, and a malicious smirk pulls at the puppet’s lips. “Good. Then why don’t you show me how much you missed me, (Y/N)? Hm?”

Without hesitating, Scaramouche nibbles on the edge of your ear, releasing your neck to find purchase on your waist instead. You gasp in surprise, clutching his clothes tighter and instinctively pulling him closer. He eagerly returns the favor, roughly pinning you against him and sinking his teeth into the enticing dip between your shoulder and neck. Lost in the inviting scent decorating your collarbone, he mumbles something incoherent that resembled “I’ll fuck the insubordination out of you once and for all.”

You stifle a growing hum of pleasure at the harsh contrast between his gentle sucking and playful marking, wanting to repress the moan caught in your throat. Your knees turn weak at his touch, threatening to collapse beneath you. As much as you are worried and confused about his reaction, any logic went out the window as he shoves you on top of the round table and plants himself between your legs. 

“What was that? I can’t quite hear you,” the harbinger snickers, letting his hands roam to your plush thighs and kissing up your neck to find your lips. His wet tongue demands entrance, though you aren’t in the right state of mind to put up much of a fight anyway—quickly becoming intoxicated by every little ministration he blesses your skin with. Your hands unabashedly dive into his short, violet locks when he holds your lip in his teeth, relishing in how his taste melted in your mouth. “Speak up, darling. Your moans are mine.”

“Don’t deprive me any further,” Scaramouche commands, though you couldn’t help but pick up on the lingering desperation laced in his instructions. He begins helping you remove your top between his insatiable kisses, finally freeing your breasts from their cloth prison only to be greedily captured again in his hands. At first, he greets them with a loving squeeze and massages them rhythmically, appreciating how their shape molded into his palms softly. Then, he trails his mouth away from yours, forging a path of reddened love bites down to your awaiting breasts.

The moment his tongue swirls around the perky bud of your left breast, you could no longer subdue the moans fighting to slip past your lips and whine his name like it was a soft chorus. Like it was the answer to your prayers, a delicate chant of worship over and over. “Fuck,” you exhale breathily as Scaramouche lapped at your nipple and rubbed the other teasingly.

You feel his grin against your breast as he lightly sucks on your sensitive bud, earning a few needy tugs of his hair and more elated whimpers spilling freely from your lips. Not wanting to neglect your other breast that was so eagerly waiting in anticipation, he latches his mouth to it roughly while roaming his hand up your thigh directly to the thin veil of fabric blocking his advances. It is no matter to Scaramouche, who connects his thumb to your clit through your panties, earning a particularly lewd yelp from you. 

“Heh,” he laughs to himself, kissing your bruising love bites up to your neck and finally facing you again. There is a prideful glimmer in his lust-ridden irises as he looks down upon you after removing his hand from your underwear. Everything about his expression screams, ‘That’s right. I own you. You’re mine, and mine alone.’ 

You’re shy under his intimidating gaze, reaching to cover your round breasts until he yanks your wrists away. “Ah, ah, ah. Who said you could hide yourself from me? Come with me.”

“Ah, w-wait!” you exclaim in shock when he drags you off the table and pushes you to the floor littered with pillows and blankets in the corner. On your knees, the moment your lashes reveal the lust in your eyes with a fleeting look upwards to the face of your lover, Scaramouche couldn’t resist the idea of you taking all of him in your pretty mouth like the little whore you are. 

In a swift motion, he uncovers the throbbing heat trapped beneath his robe, springing free and looming over your face like the most decadent prize you had ever seen. You swallow audibly at the challenge his length poses to the limits of your throat, but it’s obvious Scaramouche is not bothered. He is determined for you to envelope all of it in your wet cavern. You’d have to make room. Let him claim every inch as his and nothing less.

“Time for you to atone for your mistakes, darling,” his smooth voice echoes in the dimly lit darkness of the tent, petting your head once before nudging your mouth closer to his tip flushed deep pink. “I’ll make you regret ever leaving me.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you accept, licking the mushroom-shaped tip with the tip of your tongue in a quick stripe. You lower your tongue to the base of his cock, wetting the entire length up to the tip with a messy lick before taking the puffy tip in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around it, you work in a rhythmic back-and-forth motion with one of your hands working at the base in sync, taking in more and more of him with time. 

Scaramouche quickly cracks under your salacious spell, succumbing to the endless waves of hot pleasure coursing through him with every thrust of your mouth on his hard cock. He went into this prepared to punish you properly, yet here he is feverishly moaning and cursing at the ecstatic pressure building inside him. Once you are easily adjusted to taking him fully, he grabs your hair with passionate ardor, forcing you even deeper on his desperate cock. Though you gag at the sudden assault on the back of your throat, he lets you breathe for just a mere second before shoving his entire length in once more. 

“Damn you,” he mutters, watching you struggle in his grasp with a ravenous, wild high written all over his beautiful face and his unkempt locks start to cling to his forehead. “You did this... You did this to me. Fuck, you can take it.”

You are delirious in your own high, faithfully deep-throating his delicious cock as if your life depended on it. Marveling at how the normally rigid, unfeeling Sixth Harbinger is unraveling at an alarming pace, you are ready to taste him pouring his seed down your used throat. At the brink of painting your throat white with his cum, he hastily stops you with a tight squeeze of your hair balled up in his fist. He takes a brief moment to calm himself, panting heavily.

“Not yet,” Scaramouche exhales, guiding you down onto the sheets and hovering over you, twitching cock in hand. He carefully swipes his finger through your delicate folds, surprised at how wet you are for him already. You mewl in response, grinding your hips against the lone finger in excitement. “Mm, all this just for me? It’ll take more than that for me to consider letting you live. You’ll be good for me, right? Hm?”

Despite the sinister tone coating his baritone voice, he makes sure your mind is too clouded with the mesmerizing motion of his fingers on your clit to even babble a response to his bombardment of questions. All you could do is helplessly turn your head away in pleasure and buck your hips into his skilled touch. You spare a glance at him between moans, offering a nod and an earnest plea, “P-please... I n-need it.”

“Need what?” he feigns ignorance, brushing his tip swollen with desire along your pussy. It takes more self-restraint than Scaramouche cares to admit for him to not give in immediately when he felt you so weak and malleable against his cock. He leans over you completely, one hand holding his member to your hole still clenching around nothing and the other pinned against the pillow over your head. “Did you need me this bad when you left me for months? Did you even think of me? You’re gonna have to beg better than that.”

“I-I need you. Only you, please,” you plead, shamelessly trying to grind against him for relief. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t give me that shit, (Y/N). Tell me who you belong to,” Scaramouche presses, indigo irises daring you to dig your grave deeper. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Before you could answer, he leans back to sit up on his knees and you are terrified he is going to leave you to think about your betrayal in a puddle of your own yearning. You instantly reach out to him to prevent him from escaping, but he gives you a knowing smirk as he removes his top instead. Even in the little light of the tent, you can make out the definition of his toned muscles, resisting the urge to run your hands across every nook and crevice. 

“I belong to you, Lord Scaramouche,” you declare softly, eyes marveling at his form and rising to meet his equally breathtaking irises. “I’m yours, and I’ll never act otherwise. Please... f-fuck me?”

“Hm, I’ll consider it,” he teases with a tap of a finger on his chin before crawling over you again and lining himself up with your wet hole. A wicked flash of Electro flickers in his pupils at sight of you practically melting in his grasp as his cock entered you painstakingly slow. One of his fingers grazes the outline of your waist, leaving euphoric sensations of electricity in its wake. Scaramouche himself struggles to maintain his façade once he bottoms out inside you, gripping your hips with both hands. “Don’t leave me ever again. I won’t let you.”

Quickly nodding and humming, you appease the jealousy that had been gnawing away at the harbinger for months. The moment he drags his cock out of you until it was just the tip, you moan and writhe in lustful satisfaction underneath him. Your pussy feels so terribly empty without his cock, but Archons it is so wonderfully ecstatic when Scaramouche fills you back up completely. 

His pace starts to quicken, the tent filled with the erotic mixture of both your moans. He takes your throat in his hand again, a faint spark of Electro dancing around his fingers. Each one of his passionate thrust pushes you further and further to cloud nine, you are seeing stars, utterly incapable of speaking anything that sounds like a sentence. Rather, your mouth was preoccupied moaning and babbling at the feeling of Scaramouche’s cock stretching your walls nicely. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls at the sound of your pussy greeting his cock with such loud, lewd noises. His violet-colored hair clings to the light film of sweat beginning to form on his face, but he pays it no mind. Scaramouche holds your neck tighter, upping the voltage of his powers, committing every inch of your insides to memory—what makes you moan, what makes you squirm, what makes you fuck harder against him begging for more. Between moans and thrusts, he continues, “You... you’re lucky I’m fucking you like this. I... I don’t give second chances.”

“Mhmm,” you nod frantically, drinking in his hot breaths and the way his cock kissed the deepest part of your pussy with ease. He pins your legs to your chest with both of his hands greedily chasing the heavenly high building up within, just out of reach. You hold onto one of your thighs as he met your clit again, eager to make you scream. “Scara, fuck, ‘s so good! I… I’m gonna cum.”

“Not until I say,” Scaramouche orders, attempting to maintain a steady pace while you were mumbling to yourself over and over about orgasming all over his thick cock with tears pricking at your lovely eyes. “Almost there. Wanna breed you... I’ll fill you so fucking full I swear.”

“Yes, s-sir,” you bit your lip. Suddenly you feel a peculiar pulse of Electro on your clit with every slap of his skin against you as he returns his attention to the mating press he has you in. The faint, fleeting shock sends waves of pleasure through you as Scaramouche’s thrusts grow faster and messier. Your pussy is undoubtedly bruised from the relentless motion of his cock seeking to make his mark on you, but you are much too intoxicated by the hot sensation. “P-please cum in me. Need it bad.”

Gripping your thighs tightly, he couldn’t muster a word as he finally lets you have your orgasm and shoots his warm seed into your depths. It is so powerful as you come down from your high that you notice your legs twitch and shake from abuse. Scaramouche keeps his cock in you, wanting to bury his cum in your pussy. He runs a free hand through his hair, the wet strands causing his hair to slick back against his head. 

A strangely gentle expression graces his perfect features, holding your jaw delicately between his index and thumb, whispering to you in the darkness, “I love you, so don’t leave me ever again, (Y/N). Or I might actually have to kill you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

[hsakuras]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐙. 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

cw: degradation, noncon, jealousy, spit, cream pie, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, toxic relationship, cheating(?), Zeke is terrible, and Levi is in this.

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

a/n: this is for @jozhenji, my mf cinnamon apple

Zeke loves reeling you in, making empty promises when you're cuddled in his arms and then dropping you when you're no use to him anymore.

He's sick, he knows it, but you were warned. Everyone warned you about Zeke Yeager, he doesn't do relationships, doesn't even care if you cum at all. He tells the sweetest lies and loves when your eyes sting with tears and your lips pout at him when he tells you that you don't mean anything to him.

He thinks he loves the chase or the comfort of knowing that you can't block him for longer than three days. He loves when his texts finally go through and he can see what you've been posting on Instagram only for him to comment, "my beautiful girl" under the picture where no one other than Levi Ackerman stamps a heart under.

He eventually reels you into his penthouse again with chocolates and flowers and everything your pretty little heart desires. Showers you with praises and fleeting touches and an orgasm that had you seeing stars. It was a nice change of pace for him until he got bored with you again and started avoiding your calls and texts to come over.

You would see him with someone else on his arm and it would break your little heart all over again. He has to hide his hard-on when you show up to his door with tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you spew out your false "I hate yous" and "this is the last time."

He'll close the door on you and jack off to your face that night imagining that you're crying over his cock as he spills his seed all over his hand.

He gets invited to a party one that he knows you'll show up to. It's a great place for him to catch you again, he'll tell you he's sorry, that he's changed for real this time. Most importantly, he'll tell you that he can't live without you.

In his head, it plays out perfectly, he has the flowers ready and an expensive jewelry set that he knows you won't refuse, it's ready to go until he sees you sitting on Levi’s lap taking a picture for what he’s sure is your instagram story.

He hates Levi and you know that. He feels sick, he knows he deserves this, knows that you deserve more than the treatment he gives you but you’re his.

You both make eye contact from across the room and you feel your phone vibrates a few minutes later.

Zeke: Come here. Now.

You delete it. Not wanting to ruin your night with Levi who’s getting you both drinks.

You feel your phone continue to vibrate before placing it on do not disturb. You swallow down each of the harsh liquors that Levi gives you, even swallowing when he tips your head back close to his and spits into your mouth before he kisses you. You pull away from him, alcohol settling into your system that leaves you feeling dizzy and wobbly. Your pupils are blown wide with lust when you look back at Levi who only smirks and pours another drink for you.

You take it, quickly downing the drink and ignoring the burn that goes on in your chest when you feel someone pulling you off of your date’s lap.

Your turn to look at Zeke, his eyes are dark, as if he’s giving you a warning to come with him or else. Your silence is excruciatingly loud, enough to have Levi out of his seat and stare at the man before you.

“Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” Levi says. His hand suddenly on Zeke’s arm, knuckles white with his strength. You know that two have bad blood between them but you never dared ask why.

Zeke let’s you go, not without a back up plan though.

“Have fun, Captain. She’s all yours.” He sighs, walking away to someone else he knows as if he wasn’t ready to take you away from Levi. He hears you make a comment about how he always acts like he owns you.

In Zeke’s mind, he does.

He spends the rest of the night watching you giggle and drink with your new boy toy. Cringing when Levi’s fingers trail on the tops of your thighs and when he whispers something in your ear that makes you flustered. You don’t leave his gaze even when you’re dancing and grinding on Levi and especially when you’re stumbling your way to the bathroom.

He thinks it’s the perfect time to move watching over his shoulder to make sure Levi is occupied with his colleagues to notice the way he follows your stumbling figure.

Zeke watches as you open the door, probably cursing yourself for the shoes you chose to wear which makes it harder to walk. You do your best to shut the door behind you but you frown when Zeke’s foot stops the door from shutting and he makes his way into the bathroom with you, ensuring to lock the door behind the both of you.

“Zeke” you slur, giggling when he lifts you up and sits you on the counter space next to the sink. He doesn’t say a word to you as he squeezes your cheeks together. His grip is rough but your reactions are slow, you weakly place your hands on top of his wrist before he presses into your cheeks harder.

“Whores don’t get to touch me.” He seethes.

You whine when he lets your face go in favor of pushing your dress up, his eyes nearly bug out when he sees the panties you’re wearing.

Pretty lace little thing, he hasn’t even seen them before.

You try to pull your dress back down, hoping you can save a shred of your dignity before he starts his relentless teasing.

“So that’s what you want? Suddenly you stop taking my calls and replying to my texts all to be someone else’s bitch?”

“Not his bitch.” You quip, not fighting when Zeke keeps your dress bunched up at your hips, “not anyone’s bitch”

He slips your panties down your legs, puts them in his pocket for later.

You can’t even finish your sentence, not when Zeke’s fingers are prodding at your entrance, already slick with arousal from grinding on Levi’s hardening cock earlier.

“No? Is that why you cry when you can’t have me?” His thumb is circling your clit now, it makes you throw your head back when you feel his middle finger slowly slide into your drooling entrance.

“Zeke, no. Levi’s waiting f’me”

“Whores like you don’t tell me no.” You can’t argue, can’t even try to push him off. Not when the room is spinning and Zeke’s fingers curl deliciously into your sweet spot as he finger fucks you.

“Does he know you love when I’m mean to you?” You nod your head no, not trusting your voice when Zeke’s still working your orgasm out of you. He inserts another finger and you can hear how sloppy your pussy is getting. Zeke bends down enough to press a kiss to your clit before he spits on it. He continues his ministrations, continues to finger you when he feels your walls clamping around his digits and you struggle to keep in your whines.

You can feel the coil threatening to snap in your belly, can feel the heat of your orgasm running through your veins and you’re blindsided by how quickly Zeke is able to push you over the edge. Your whine is louder than you wanted it to be followed by a garbled “Zeke.” You’re trying to hop off the counter but hearing Zeke undo his belt snaps you out of it.

“Zeke, I can’t” you pant.

“You can and you will.”

“Levi is gonna come looking for me.” You try to convince yourself of that. Even when Zeke is lining the tip of his cock with your entrance pressing himself into you and letting his head tilting back at the warmth of your hot, wet cunt.

Zeke pulled you into a kiss, his tongue finding yours and swirling around your muscle before pulling away. He knew you loved to watch the string of saliva that kept the two of you connected. He grabs your jaw again, tilting your head back and squeezing it as a silent command for you to open your mouth.

You hear it before it happens, swallowing his spit before you register that he must have seen the way Levi spit into your mouth earlier. The thought makes you flusters, your walls squeezing around his length as he begins to fuck you harder.

“Zeke, fuck!” you whine, “fuck fuck fuck!”

“Yeah? And here you were telling me no. You don’t even know that you need me.”

He stops when he thrusts himself in to a hilt, his balls resting against your ass and your legs locked around his wait.

“You’re mine and only mine, got it?”

He waits for you to nod, before he starts moving again. This time he wants you to cum, wants you to milk his cock for all that he’s worth. His hips are snapping against yours, cock kissing your sweet spot over and over again until you’re cumming with a string of curses and the sound of his name leaving your lips.

It doesn’t take him that much longer for him to spill himself inside of you. Pulling his softening cock out of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

He reaches into his pocket pulling your panties out and pulling them back up over your legs. He uses his fingers to push his cum that seeps out of your abused hole back in.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, helping you stand up and pull your panties back up. He’s fixing your dress and then leaning into your ear, you allow yourself to lean against him, letting yourself fall into the comfort that Zeke would take away.

“When you go back out there, tell your boyfriend I hope he enjoys the taste of my spunk out of your pretty little pussy.”

[harlowhockeystick]

“I can’t wait for tonight” w jamie oleksiak if you write for him, idk if you do. If not then you can pick someone else!

this is dedicated to @bardownbitch ily <3 thank u for giving us the masterpiece that is, dbf jamie

contains: tons of dirty talk (18+ MINORS DNI), cuss words, fem reader, um, degrading kink,

this gif holy fuck

jamie could not wait any longer. the more he had to sit in the most uncomfortable chair in all of seattle, the harder he got, and the tighter his pants became. he hated going to these events; yes, they serve a good purpose and are for a good cause, but he didn't get why he had to show up. he didn't understand why he still couldn't just make a generous donation from his couch, and not this dimly lit ballroom while he watches his teammates, whom of which you are out of their league, flirt with you.

speaking of, he had to contain himself when he heard grubauer ask you dance. how dare he ask you, a taken woman, to dance. and jamie nearly flipped his lid when you said yes to the dance. so now, here he is, sitting in the hardest chair in seattle, watching you dance with another man. he made the mental note to himself to shoot a little harder at him tomorrow morning.

she doesn't even like this song, he thinks to himself as he watches you sway back and forth, laughing, grubauer's hands traveling a little too far south for his liking. that's when he stood up, taking matters into his own hands. striding across the dance floor, making people get out of the way for him instead of the opposite.

"mind if i step in?" as if he would say no. phillip gave you a smile and backed up, walking over to some other teammates to receive their betting money. they didn't think he would have the balls to do it, ask you, jamie's girl, to dance.

"what do you think you're doing?" he asked, pulling you flush against his chest, one large hand spread out on the small of your back as his other hand yours. you giggled, he always got so protective over you underneath the tiniest of circumstances. he had a strict rule, nobody touches or gets to his girl, and nobody tries to take her from him. sometimes you laughed at him and how protective he got, but sometimes you were thankful for it.

"oh come on, jame, i was just dancing. i really wanted to, plus i know that one: you're not a very good dancer and two: you don't even like to dance. it was innocent, nothing more." he hums, parting away to twirl you when the beat called for it, and pulling you back. this time, you could feel the arousal in his pants, and it made you blush.

"innocent, because that's what you are, huh?" he started. your eyes going wide for a second before he kept going. "sweet, innocent, little thing. you weren't so innocent a few nights ago, were you?" your cheeks go red at his words. the night plays back in your head, your mind replaying the filthy time you had with him.

"you remember, right? of course you do, you're still a little hoarse from taking my cock down your throat and screaming for me not to stop." he finds a way to pull you closer to his body, both of his hands on your back while your arms are looped around his neck.

your legs are beginning to feel like jello, much like they did a couple days ago. suddenly you regret wearing such tall heels, and wearing a dress that you know jamie can rip apart in just a few seconds flat. you feel hot, feel like the dress you have on is made of the thickest wool possible. all because of just a few sentences spewed from jamie's mouth.

"i bet you're so wet right now, honey. i'd love to feel you right now, but i'd also like to keep my job." you tense up, straighten your posture and avoid eye contact with him as you try to make it through this song so that he can take you home and follow through his words. "oh, you'd like that pretty girl, wouldn't you? bending you over in front of all these people, showing my team the only thing they dream about. they all wish they could have you, but you're mine."

a few more lyrics in and you feel like you're going to pass out. the more he says, you could probably have an orgasm right there where you're standing. "i can't wait for tonight, god, can't wait to be buried inside you all night. filling you up, not letting a drop spill out of you. can't wait to have your pretty thighs wrapped around my head first, though."

as soon as he finished his words the song had ended, and he couldn't drag you off of the dance floor faster. walking back to your table he helped you put your coat on, handing you your purse as you waited impatiently. "gone so soon?" tanev asked, approaching you both with a warm smile.

"yeah, you and i both know these things can get a little boring. plus, Y/N said she's not feeling well." jamie quickly responded, knowing that you were too light headed from being edged by his words for the past ten minutes on the dance floor to speak.

valet brought your car over and it didn't take long for Jamie to drive across town to your shared apartment, where he proceeded to take you apart in every way he knew how, certainly following through with his words.

blurb tags: @nylwnder @lorrmorr @owenpowerstapejob