Latest Posts by shynsgore - Page 8

mfs be like "I can handle your disorders" until your disorders disorder disorderly

I generally dislike when people water down Gon’s character to being a sociopath. The whole thing with his character is that he’s a child. I feel like the sociopathic traits he exhibits are just an extreme result for a child placed in an insane situation.

I’ve seen a lot of people talk about his skewed morality (ex. Viewing Killua as good while condemning others) as a villainous trait, when it’s just a result of immaturity and naivety. He has a child’s psychology therefore his morality is entirely dependent on his wants, needs, and how others treat him. Killua is nice to him and in his age range which makes him good and his friend.

Again, in chimera ant arc he’s seen at his worst, but you have to keep in mind that he is an extremely overpowered child going through the grief of someone he cared about being killed. There’s no possible way, given everything Gon has learned and experienced, that he would react in a normal, healthy way. Being surprised that an immature, selfish child going through grief would behave selfishly and angrily is odd.

At the heart of the matter, Gon is a child. A lot of his characteristics that people view as sociopathy, I feel are rooted in immaturity.

All of this is why I think Togashi wanted to move on from Gon and make Kurapika the next protagonist. Gon is a subversion of the typical young shounen protagonist and a lot of his character is built around that, good and bad. After the events of the chimera ant arc/election arc, he fulfilled his goal of meeting his father, and he also had to literally grow up (adult form when fighting Pitou). Although I personally feel dissatisfied (because I love Gon very much and it breaks my heart a wee bit) it’s clear that Gon’s journey is complete seeing as he reached his goal and he “grew up.”

I think it’s very natural that the narrative would follow Kurapika next since he has a clear, unfulfilled goal and a compelling storyline.

Got a bit side tracked at the end… tl;dr: Gon’s an over powered child, not a deranged evil sociopath.

i missed killugon so much that i went back to the manga to reread some of their moments together, and this scene during greed island is one of my favorites.

i love how childlike they look in the art. it reminds you that even though they have moments where they fight enemies to the death, they are still children at the end of the day. things like friendship are normal to kids, but killua was never able to experience any of it until he met gon.

the way killua’s eyes widen, almost shocked someone thinks of him as a friend and that it’s gon of all people who feel that way. killua is so used to a world with no emotion or joy, and now he gets to spend all his time with his best friend, who ALSO feels the same way towards him.

to gon, being upfront and honest with his feelings is normal. he was raised by his aunt, a very caring woman, and it was easy for that kindness to become a part of gon's personality. it's easy to say that killua is important to him, that killua is someone he can count on no matter what.

for killua, hearing this means the world. a boy isolated from the outside world, taught to be an assassin, tortured, and ignored, is now face to face with someone who cares about him and isn't afraid to say it.

it's such a simple scene on the outside, but these boys have only recently met, and it is almost like fate brought them together. killua and gon have become so close in such a short time, and yet it's hard to imagine a moment when they weren't by each other's side.

this scene brings back so many memories for me. it reminds me of how, as a young kid, you may be embarrassed to tell someone how much they mean to you, so you duck your head, trying to avoid contact while you think to yourself how happy you are.

since i watched hxh, killugon has become such an important duo to me. as individuals, they are incredibly written characters, and watching them become friends was my favorite part of the series. they mean so much to me! every scene they have together makes me so happy, and i hope we are able to see them again soon <3

OMG KIKUO HOLE DWELLING REFERENCE IM SCREAMING

the same, the same, the same, are we not?

I CAN SEE YOU

track 03: not in public

NOTE: guys am i too late for valentines? also guess who's updating in campus 😇

I CAN SEE YOU — scara x reader smau

prev . masterlist . next

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @aries-afk @aetherialcrafter @jamieexistss @lordbugs @aerisellesuchi @adres-tia @luvlockettt @kinichval @miiltrix @suzueuieeeee @automaticpatroltragedy @ahirusstuff @kyuki07 @kunikuni1819 @hungryreadingaddict @deariroha @rosieyama @slayzzz @tired-jaz @mellowberrie @kyouzki @riabriyn @ravenbc @lalalaloveallmydays @moonlitreveri3 @skyoverkill1 @xiaomainlmao @phoenix-eclipses @yomishen @anemosmybeloved @iaraluvs @kunikuzushiit @lockandkeys @yoursockstinks @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @d1gital-data @shyentsmissingink @liuaneee @najaemism @mywillt0live @aswiftiechildofapollo @toekissers @meigalaxy @nishiriks @executeher @verafunny @gl00muraaii @lily-isalittlegirl @just-a-hopeless-romantic

An urgent call for humanity

Please don't scroll this ‼️‼️🙏

We need your solidarity with us at this bad time.🇵🇸🍉🙏

🙌Verified by Butterfly effect project line 355 in spreadsheet🇵🇸🚨here

Here in Gaza after a cruel war, We are a family of 15—10 adults and 5 children. Every day is a battle for survival. Food is scarce, humanitarian aid is not reaching us, and my little nieces and nephews go to bed hungry. Among them is my sister, who is deaf, and another sister who has a newborn baby. They, too, are suffering in this crisis, and I’m doing everything I can to protect and provide for them.

We need your support to save us and to help us after the destruction that surrounding us here in Gaza.

Please if you can't donate you can share it with your friends, family, and networks. Together, you can help me give my children hope, warmth, and sustenance in this critical time.🙏🙏🙏🍉💔

You can donate here

Or via PayPal here

An urgent call for humanity

Please don't scroll this ‼️‼️🙏

We need your solidarity with us at this bad time.🇵🇸🍉🙏

🙌Verified by Butterfly effect project line 355 in spreadsheet🇵🇸🚨here

Here in Gaza after a cruel war, We are a family of 15—10 adults and 5 children. Every day is a battle for survival. Food is scarce, humanitarian aid is not reaching us, and my little nieces and nephews go to bed hungry. Among them is my sister, who is deaf, and another sister who has a newborn baby. They, too, are suffering in this crisis, and I’m doing everything I can to protect and provide for them.

We need your support to save us and to help us after the destruction that surrounding us here in Gaza.

Please if you can't donate you can share it with your friends, family, and networks. Together, you can help me give my children hope, warmth, and sustenance in this critical time.🙏🙏🙏🍉💔

You can donate here

Or via PayPal here

19 stuck with you — you get me so high ! (18+)

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

contains: mentions of weed, smut

PLEASE READ if you are uncomfortable with smut feel free to read up until the point where it starts, there'll be a divider letting you know where that is! i recommend you also read the ending as well. there's a fem and masc version, skip to the version you want to read, both have the same ending!

SCARA'S POINT OF VIEW

The kitchen was still, cloaked in the quiet that only the dead of a summer’s night could bring. The hush was barely broken by the low gurgle of water coming to a boil and the faint clink of a spoon as Scara carefully measured honey into a cup. You liked your tea sweet. The scent of the brewing yuja tea lingered in the air as he set your mug down, the quiet moment stretching.

You’d mumbled something earlier about needing a shower once everyone had left. It had been a while since the others had gone, but he figured you just wanted some space, maybe even from him. It was rather awkward to be the only two on the island after all. He was even making the dinner deliberately slow, hoping to share it with you. Just as he was about to put it away, you walked in.

Your hair was still damp, and your cheeks held a warmth he guessed was from the weather. But when your eyes met his, he felt a sudden heat rise in his own skin. For a fleeting second, he let himself imagine that maybe you wanted him too.

“Is this for me?" you ask, your eyes locking on the gift box sitting at the edge of the table. Scara hadn't even noticed it until now, but as you speak, his gaze shifts, and he sees the tag, your name scrawled across it, and then his, in the same messy handwriting.

 “Did you get this for me?” you ask, your hand already reaching for it. But before you can grab it, Scara snatches it up quickly, a flash of awkwardness crossing his face. 

“I did not,” he mutters, unwrapping the box with exaggerated care, though his mind is already racing. Inside, there’s an assortment of snacks. None of which you liked. 

“I was gonna say,” you laugh softly, picking up a pack of berry tarts, “I’m not a fan of any of this stuff.” 

Scara sighs and flips the card over, glancing at the scribbled message. "Then it was from those idiots," he says, his voice dropping into a casual grumble. "My handwriting’s better than this. And I know you better than they do."

He doesn’t notice the way your cheeks flush, the faint pink coloring your skin as you glance up at him, your heart suddenly skipping a beat at his words. Scara catches sight of your expression for just a second, but before he can make sense of it, he's already focused on the card again, flipping it over and tossing it aside. He’s always been good at pretending to be uninterested in things that matter.

“Hey, at least something else smells good,” You say, sitting across from him at the island as he plates the food. Without the lights of the cameras in his face, it feels too domestic. The way he hands you a plate and watches you take a bite, biting his cheek and hoping you’ll like it. 

And when you stand beside him to wash the dishes, and he can’t tell where he ends and you begin when both of you are elbow deep in soap bubbles. Or the way you shove his shoulder on the walk back to the dorms at something he said, he’s thankful the darkness hides his smile at making you laugh. 

He wants more of you. All of you.

That’s why when you run back into your room, he feels his stomach twist with something cold. He had hoped tonight might be the night when you both finally opened up to each other. And coming from someone as emotionally constipated as him, that was a pretty huge leap to make.

He even lingered outside your dorm door for a moment, fingers hovering just inches from the knob, as though touching it might make everything real, might pull him closer to something he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Or worse, something, someone, he could never have. But in the end, he’d turned away, stepping back toward his own room, heart thudding in his chest, silently cursing the distance he couldn't quite bridge.

He dragged his feet back to his own room, the quiet hum of the night feeling far too loud now, and waited for the next moment, the next sign that maybe you’d feel the same way. He swore to himself he'd jump at it.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW:

Aside from the lonely tripods and Scara on the island, you were completely alone. It was unsettling. You didn’t know how to face Scara by yourself, so after dinner, you bolted to your room and waited until you heard his door close before sneaking back into the living room. You knew this was your chance to talk to him, but maybe a part of you was sabotaging it. If you never tried, you’d never get rejected, right?

The dark, empty communal room felt different. You hadn’t slept alone since your trainee days. Ever since, there’d always been a roommate or one of your members just a door away. Without that, you felt a little uneasy.

The moonlight streamed through the bare windows, flickering across the room. The hardwood floor was cold, offering no comfort, while your comforter was pulled tight around your shoulders.

"Why are you sitting in the dark like a creep?"

You jump, your heart lurching. It’s just Scara.

“I’m chilling,” you mutter, though you don’t sound convincing.

“It’s 1 a.m.,” he points out dryly.

“Why are you up at 1 a.m.?”

“I had to piss.”

“Okay, don’t tell me that,” you reply, wincing.

“You literally asked,” he says as he turns to head back to his room. But then he pauses, glances over his shoulder, and looks at you with something like curiosity.

“Wait. Are you sitting out here because you’re scared?”

You hesitate. “Of course not! The floor is just... really comfortable,” you lie through your teeth. You couldn’t be less comfortable if you tried.

A few weeks ago, just the thought of giving Scaramouche any more material to tease you with would’ve made your chest tighten. But now, it's different. Your chest is still tight, but it’s with something else. Or maybe it was that something else all along.

“You really think you’re gonna sleep out here and get any rest?” he asks, his eyes scanning your little setup.

“Yes,” you reply, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Alright,” he mutters, turning to walk back to his room. For a brief second, your heart sinks. You can’t help but hope, maybe, just maybe, he’d want to stay too.

And then, just as you start to convince yourself that was a silly thought, Scara’s back. He throws his blanket onto the floor and sits down next to you, pulling out a joint from his pocket.

“You’re staying?” you ask, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he scoffs, flicking open his lighter. The sound of it snapping to life cuts through the silence of the night. He lights up his joint and he inhales, then turns to you as he exhales, the smoke curling around him.

He passes the joint to you, and you reach out, reluctantly leaving the warmth of your blanket to take it from him.

He pulls out a pack of UNO cards that must’ve been left behind by Fischl, and the two of you start a lazy game, passing the joint back and forth. With every hit, the cool night air feels warmer, and the color of his lips seems to burn brighter, his eyes locking onto yours with every exhale. The moonlight kisses his skin, making him look almost ethereal, like porcelain touched by shadows.

You used to get so irrationally angry when you saw him. But when you didn’t run into him, you felt disappointed. You always tried to be better than him, but deep down, you also wanted to impress him. Every time you succeeded at something, his face was the first one you searched for in the crowd. And now, his face is the one you’re staring at. The face of a man you don’t know anything about, nothing mundane, anyway.

“Kuni,” the name feels like it belongs to you alone, slipping off your tongue with a strange sense of ownership. “Let’s play twenty-one questions.”

“Fine,” he hums, placing down another +2 card on you. “I’ll ask.”

SCARA'S POINT OF VIEW

It was just the two of you, and the thought of it alone ignited something in his chest. It started small, but then it was like a torch had gone off, burning hotter than the weed between his fingers.

He knows you. Or at least, he thinks he does. He knows when you’re hungry, when you’re frustrated, when you’re on the verge of blowing up about something. He knows your favorite dance practice room (the one on the third floor, with that damn view of the city you never shut up about). He’d intentionally book it, just so you’d storm in, all fiery eyed and angry, only for him to struggle keeping his chest from burning with something else. He even knows what you’re allergic to and that you’re terrified of flying. But there are things he doesn’t know. Things that gnaw at him when he lets his guard down, like what kind of food you eat when you’re sad or what color you’d call your favorite. Hell, he doesn’t even know if you had a middle name.

“Favorite color?”

He asks the question, and the sound of your laugh hits him like a punch to the ribs.

“You know,” you laugh, still in the middle of that soft chuckle, “people usually ask juicier questions.”

“That’s for people with interesting lives,” he counters, trying to keep his tone light, but it feels too easy to let the edge slip.

You sigh, your voice suddenly soft and almost resigned. “It’s [Color],” you say, the words slipping out almost casually, like it’s no big deal. He stores it away in the back of his mind, tucking it there next to everything else he’s noticed about you.

He watches you take another hit, eyes fixed on you as you exhale. There’s a moment of silence, of something unspoken hanging between you, and he breaks it.

“I’ll play properly,” you say, “Who was your first kiss?”

“Some random trainee,” he answers easily,  and it’s the truth. He distinctly remembers just wanting to get it over with after a late night. His mom had argued with him over something or the other. And you had bested him in the weekly rankings. He’d wanted to feel in control of something for once.

He’s never been good at firsts, never really cared. But there’s something different about this conversation. About you. 

He finds himself caring about his firsts with you.

“It doesn’t bother you that you don’t remember?”

“No," he says, the words feeling true, even if they’re colder than they should be. "It’s not like any of them mattered.”

“Cold as always,” you tease with that smile that somehow feels sharper than it looks, and he has to bite back a frown. He didn’t care about being perceived as indifferent, it’s what most of the world saw him as. Bur he didn’t want you to view him like that, but he couldn’t undo emotional constipation overnight. 

He thinks about the kiss you both shared. It sits there, on his tongue, lodged in his throat like everything else he hasn’t said. 

“I was Childe’s first, though,” he says suddenly, watching your reaction. He knows this’ll get you to feel better. And it does.

You gasp. "Wait, really?"

“Yeah,” he smirks,“He was seventeen, terrified, wanted to get it over with.”

“God,” you giggle, “The shippers would have a field day with this. He probably brings it up every day, huh?”

“Every chance he gets,” he confirms, amused by your reaction.

“At least that one has some meaning behind it,” you murmur, thoughtful for a second, then your gaze softens. “I can’t imagine not remembering.”

His eyes narrow, the question coming before he has a chance to stop it. The weed loosens his tongue, chips away at the usual walls.

“Would you redo yours?” Ours. 

You pause, twirling the joint in your fingers, clearly thinking it over. The silence between you both feels thicker now.

“I would’ve preferred a real kiss to be my first, and off camera,” you finally admit, voice quieter, vulnerable in a way that makes his chest tighten.

“And what about with whom?” he asks, voice low, almost too casual. Like he wasn’t just asking something that made his throat close up. 

You hesitate, eyes darting to the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“I wouldn’t change that,” you finally answer, and he swallows hard, fighting the urge to lean closer.

“I thought you were saving it for someone special.” 

“I am.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. The kind that lingers and fills every gap between you. Then you turn, your eyes unfocused and glassy from the weed, but there's something else in them. Something he can’t quite place, something raw.

And before he can stop himself, before he can even consider pulling away, the thought bursts from him. The words spill out, the same way they always do when he lets his guard down.

His eyes were screaming what his lips feared to whisper. 

Kiss me.

“What?”

Oh. It seems he said that aloud. 

The confusion in your voice is pulling him back, but his heart is already pounding too loudly for him to care.

“Let me give you a memorable one,” he says, more sure this time. His voice is steady, but his throat is dry. He’s never been good at saying these things, at offering something so... open. He’s waiting, hoping for you to take that final step, even though it feels like he's teetering on the edge of something he can’t control.

“But I don’t want another fake first kiss.” Your voice is quieter now, a trace of hesitation in your words.

“Who said it would be fake?” His voice cracks just slightly. He feels ridiculous, but he can’t back down now.

You look at him, really look at him, and the pause stretches between you both like it’s holding its breath. Then, almost imperceptibly, you nod.

“Okay.”

Scara doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with the wild pounding in his chest. The last time he felt like this was in his teens, standing in front of a judges panel, including his mother, to audition for her own company. He can still remember the way his stomach flipped when she held up the placard with the bright red X on it, signaling him to restart the entire process. It wasn’t nearly the same, but the feeling of that anticipation? It’s all too familiar now. 

The only difference is, this time, he doesn’t want to run away. This time, he doesn’t want to hide.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW: 

Who said it would be fake? 

The words ring in your ear like an anthem. There was no amount of backpedaling you could do to make those words sound different. Scara wanted to kiss you. Kuni, your Kuni, wanted to kiss you. 

You feel Scara more than you hear him. The shuffling of his body as he comes closer, the air on your skin as he unwraps your comforter, the softness of his breath brushing against your face. The familiarity of him feels safe, and you let yourself get pulled in.  

He slides the blanket over you both, until you can’t see an inch in front of you.

“Why…?”

“You said off camera, right?” he says, his voice just above a whisper. His palm reaches out to cup your cheek gently, as he leans in.

You both hesitate for just a breath. Your ears are on the lookout for any trace of weirdness. Because this is Scara, your rival Kuni, so theoretically it would be terrible to be this close to him. With your noses barely brushing together, the sting of the metal as your fingers curl his hair behind his ear, and the warmth radiating off him. But instead of feeling resentment, you’re curious.

Before you could overthink yourself into a panic, Scara closes the distance and lets his lips press against yours. Soft is your first impression. Scara’s lips are velvety and taste faintly of the toothpaste in the dorms. 

His hands curl around your head and you both only part for a moment before he’s kissing you again. And again. Until he’s gently pushing you down, hovering above you as you curl your arms around his neck. You were expecting a fireworks moment, and maybe that was a little childish of you. But instead, you feel light. Like this is what you were always supposed to be doing.

Scara is cautious when he kisses you. His hands caressing the side of your face like you’ll fall apart at his touch. Or when your lips part and his tongue slips inside your mouth, the cold taste of metal mixed with the feelings of his lips. You feel your entire body craving for him in a way you’ve never felt before.

He turns his face into the crook of your neck and you try to ignore the way your breath hitches. His lips trail off to the side of it, and you let out an incoherent noise as his lips move down your skin, leaving marks in its wake. 

The haze of post high leaves your brain to stop holding you back. So with every kiss and bite he leaves you find yourself gasping at the pleasure. His knee is between your legs and his chest is right against yours and you have the primal urge to let him have you.  

“Fuck, wait,” he mumbles, his lips still against your skin as his free hand slides underneath your top and slip into your waistband, his fingers teasing the hem of your underwear before he finds your mic pack and rips it off. His other hand snakes towards your neck to clip off the mic necklace, but he leaves your other one on. 

He removes his own with a quickness that has your hands roaming his chest as he leans back in and tugs at the swell of your bottom lip, pulling it lightly between his teeth.

A small bite before his lips are just above your ear, “Push me off right now,” he whispers, out of breath, “If you don’t want this, do it right now.”

You pull him in.

The years of the push and pull between you two went up in flames as his lips devoured yours. All that rivalry for you two to end up like this.  It was as if every word, every glance, every challenge led to this one breathless kiss. The lines between love and hate blurred in an instant, and for the first time, neither of you cared who won.

Scara’s hands have so many metal rings, and they’re cold against your skin when he touches you. He was so gentle with you, only touching you in places he knows where you’ll feel good. Of course Scara would know where you’d feel good, his hands have roamed countless bodies before yours. But with the way his lips caress your skin ever so delicately, like he’s scared you’ll fall apart right beneath him, makes you feel like this time is different for him as well.

“Come on,” he says, pulling away as you chase his lips. 

“Hm?” you say, still in a daze as he gently tosses the comforter off of you both, “Why not here?”

“You don’t want your first on the floor, do you?” he says, pulling you up. You can’t help yourself, letting yourself fall into him when you’re both standing. He doesn’t stop you, kissing you back as he guides you both towards the rooms. 

He’s dragging his lips into the nape of your neck as he fumbles getting the door open. You both stumble in together, your back pressed against the wall as he moves his lips around your jaw. Scara smells like expensive cologne and wine and a distinct scent that was his and never went away. 

“Why not your room?” you gasp, eyeing the place you were in. One of the unused dorm rooms.

“No cameras here,” he mumbles against your skin. You could get off on just the fact he cared this much. 

You weren’t sure which part of you both collided first, your lips or hips. You gripped onto his neck like a lifeline, to steady yourself from the liquid pleasure trickling all the way from your stomach down to your sex. And with that you tug him in closer, feeling his hands sneak under your shirt as he marks your skin like it’s his. His hands move down to your hips, guiding you to grind against him. The slow grind of your hips continued and the breathy moans coming out of your mouth only made Scara throb against you.

“I bet I could make you cum just like this,” Scara murmurs against your neck, his voice husky as a warm, wet arousal dampens your underwear. You start to think he may just be right. 

You roll up your hips against him, and Scara’s fingers dig deeper into your waist at the pleasure. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, grinding against him as he guides his hips against yours. The friction from the mound in his pants against your thin pajamas is slowly driving you insane. You didn’t think you could ever feel something like this. 

You tilt your head, allowing him more access to your throat as he leaves a trail of hickies in his wake. You long to feel his mouth against every part of your skin. Your core is throbbing in anticipation of his touch, and he senses it as well.

“Come lay down for me,” his voice barely above a whisper as he guides you towards the bed. Even in your haze of pleasure, you can feel how soft he’s being. Even with the bulge in his pants, begging for release, he takes his time putting a pillow behind you and spreading your legs. You’ve never been this open before with anyone. 

He lifts your hips up for you, sliding your pants off and tossing them to the ground until you’re in nothing but your sweater and underwear. 

fem version

He brings his head down, his hands roaming your waist as his teeth grasp onto the hem of your panties, dragging them down. He looks up as you, with half lidded eyes as he does so. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out as he bullies his way between your legs. He holds them open with his knees as looms over you. 

He doesn’t make you wait, his lips already on your calf as he makes his way down to your sex. He pushes your sweater up the slightest, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin as your head falls back at the feeling. His breath is hot against your wet sex as you let out a string of incoherent moans. 

He’s enthusiastic with the way he varies between kissing, licking, and sucking. Scara licks into you with startling precision. The soft muscle of his tongue paired with the unforgiving metal feels otherworldly. He’s pushing your body up slightly, fitting himself to lay on his stomach and right between your legs. You sit with your head laying against the pillows as Scara makes some of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing his head between your legs drives your hand to rush forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, not brave enough to pull yet. You tug just a little, eliciting him to groan against your sex. You can feel the metal stud. And it’s heavenly. 

He gasps as he lifts his head, lips wet and pupils completely blown. He presses a kiss to your calf before going back with even more vigor. You were wrapped around his tongue and couldn’t get enough. You didn’t have a second to catch your breath as his tongue darts out and makes contact with your outer lip. 

It should be embarrassing, being this vulnerable in front of him when he’s the one you’ve tried so hard to never stumble in front of. But that feeling disintegrates when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, and the only thing running through your head is how good he feels.

“Kuni, please,” you let out, your hands tangled in his hair. He kisses it again, causing you to instinctively buck up your hips into him. 

“Grind,” he says, in between licking your cunt, “Grind into me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. His hands come under your thighs, lifting them above his shoulder so he can get better access. You do as you're told and grind your pussy into him, desperate for any friction as his tongue darts in and out of you. He groans into you, or maybe he’s talking, but you can’t tell because of how good his face feels buried into your pussy. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper out, eyes falling shut. The words seem to make him work faster, so you let them all tumble out of you. He always was one to work harder with praise. 

“Mm you’re so good at this,” you moan, pressing his head against your cunt, “Don’t stop.”

He moans into you and you feel satisfied at making him feel good like this. It’s not just your words, you can see him grinding into the mattress beneath you as he eats you out. He’s ignoring his own problem just to make you feel good, and you want nothing but to show him you can do it too.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hand caressing your waist as you buck your hips into his mouth. His voice is so soft, and it’s only for your ears. That was enough.

The orgasm hits you, and you’ve never felt anything like it before. Your eyes cloud with bliss as you ride it out on his tongue. Scara licks every drop that you release, holding your trembling thighs as you finish on him. When he pulls back and looks up at you, you can see remnants of your juice dripping down his chin. 

He crawls back up onto you, wasting no time as his lips find yours again. You taste yourself on him and let him swell your lips. He’s kissing you, and you're desperate to get him off, too.

“Kuni,” you mumble as his lips drag against your collar bone, “Let me. Let me help you.”

“You don’t have too,” he says, burying his face in your neck as you rake your fingers through his hair.

“I want to,” you say, practically begging. 

Scara pulls back, a different gaze in his eyes as he searches your face.

“Alright,” he says, pushing himself off you, and getting off you and sitting himself on the edge of the bed. You stood there, unsure if you were supposed to take anything else off. You’d never done anything like this before. 

“Leave it on,” Scara calls out, making the decision for you, “Come.”

Scara grabs a pillow and tosses it onto the floor. At your confused glance Scara fought back the urge to tease.

“For your knees,” he states, pushing you down by the shoulder. 

You settle yourself between his legs, as soon as you do Scara starts carding his fingers through your hair. His fingers find the back of your neck, swiftly unclasping your necklace.

“Won’t get in the way,” he murmurs, “Whenever you want to get started,” he adds, playing with the barbell in his mouth as you stare at the mound in his pants. Sensing your nervousness, he reaches over to grab your hand and places it by his waistband.

You tug his pants down, the lack of boxers causing his cock to spring up against his stomach. You reach out, grabbing it by the base and guiding Scara’s cock to your mouth. Scara’s hand caressed your scalp as the other one guided himself into you. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling lightheaded at the sensation. You didn’t quite know what you were doing, but you let yourself sink lower. Your tongue glides across his length as you taste his precum. You instinctively reach out to taste more, eliciting a small groan from Scara as your tongue slides against his slit.

Scara could feel your inexperience, with the way your teeth scraped against him, but he didn’t care. Seeing your pretty mouth take him like this was enough for him to finish into your mouth. You didn’t quite know how to swallow him, it was only when Scara tugged your hair that you looked up at him. You let go of his cock with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.  

“Do you want more?” Scara asks, it was taking everything in him to not let loose and fuck your throat. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to voice anything.

“Alright, take it then,” he says. He reaches over and pushes your head so his cock is back in your mouth, this time reaching the back of your throat. When you didn’t resist he pressed more, until your lips were at the base of his cock. Your hands were digging into his thighs to keep you steady, his hand on your head as he held you there for a few seconds. 

“Shit,” Scara moans, “I’m gonna fuck your throat now, okay?”

You can only moan around his length in response, already feeling yourself get wet again.

“Tap me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, before thrusting into your mouth. 

Your mouth is full of him and you choke down on his cock. Scara’s hand is at the back of your head, and he’s trying to have some self control for your sake as you’re forced to swallow down his cock. 

You gag at the feeling of him stuffed so far down your throat. Scara tugs at your head, enough for you to grab a breath before you’re being smothered with his cock again. You drag your tongue across his length as he takes your mouth again, and you can hear his moans vibrate through you.

Over the years, you’ve heard Scara’s voice on countless tracks where he’s moaned and sang about sex. You’ve always found it distasteful, but now with your mouth around him you want nothing more than to hear him make sounds only you get to hear. 

“Not so mouthy now, are you,” Scara hums, and he hisses as you respond with your lips tight around the midpoint of his cock. 

You reach your hand up and grab ahold of the base of his cock, jerking him off as he fucks into you. Before you know it, Scara’s cock pulses against your tongue and his body tremors as he cums down your throat. There’s so much, and it fills your mouth before you can swallow and then it’s seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Scara continues to pump into you, his pace slow as you take what you can from him.

You retreat and watch as his cock continues to leak. Your knees are practically trembling as you force yourself to stand up. Scara grabs you by the waist and tugs you to change positions so you’re now straddling him. Your arms circle his neck before he’s kissing you again, cleaning his cum off you as you moan into his mouth. 

“Off,” you manage to gasp out. Scara takes the hint and pulls your sweater over your head, until you’re bare chested against him. He does the same, and you swallow at the ink trailing along his delicate body. 

He gently turns you over, pressing your back into the mattress as his lips move across you. His kisses are bruising, his tongue pushing past your lips and down to your nipples. There’s a sharp pain as he tugs at it, before his tongue sweeps over it again. He continues doing it over and over again until you’re digging your fingers into him, a shaking mess against him. 

You’re barely hanging on now, practically dripping beneath him once again, and you want to feel him more than you already have. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, “Fuck me.”

“You’re not gonna ask nicely?” he teases with the tone you’re usually used to with him, but there's something else laced underneath, something akin to concern.

“I’m sure,” you plead, “Please, just fuck me already.”

Scara abandons your breasts to move a hand towards your lips. He opens them with his fingers, guiding you to suck. When he pulls back there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers as he moves it down to your sex. 

His lips are near your ear as drags his fingers down your chest and onto your stomach, before he’s teasing your inner thigh. Before you knew it he was pressing a slick finger into you, lips kissing your neck as you let out a moan. Your hands slide underneath the pillow behind your head, back arching at just one finger. Soon he added another, working a rhythm that had you gasping. You grind your hips up into his hand, arching your lower back to take more.

Scara responds by expertly angling his fingers down, hunting for your g-spot. The sounds that escaped your lips made it obvious when he found it. It was a breathy cry that sounded like you were begging, and he was desperate to hear it again, brushing his fingers against it over and over again. 

You were whining into the air and Scara was swallowing down his urges to fuck you against the bed right then. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. But no, he was going to take his time with you.

“Please,” you babbled, rocking your hips up, “Come on already, I want you.”

He couldn’t tease you any longer when you sounded so pretty begging for his cock. He pulls his fingers free, stroking himself with your wetness. Your eyes are shut, waiting for him when you hear the crinkle of a condom packet. You wrinkle your nose at it without thinking. 

“I’ve never had anyone. Put it in without that.”

“Like you need to remind me,” Scara chuckles, “What about me? I have my results–.”

“I trust you.”

The words pierce through Scara. He tosses the condom aside.

You let out a moan of anticipation as Scara presses down on your hips, spreading your legs open for him. Steadily, and with all the care he could muster, Scara lined his cock up with your entrance. A part of you wanted to tell him to hurry along, but the bigger part of you was melting at the care behind every touch. 

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, your warm walls sucking him in even further. 

You gasp as this divine pleasure is finally inside of you. He gradually pushed himself inside of you, your eyes falling shut at being breached for the first time. He’s moving slow, too slow, and you know it’s because it’s your first time but fuck you need him to go faster. 

“Fuck, Yn,” Scara groaned, “You know how hard I used to get, right after we’d fight?” he adds as he’s caressing your hips as your head fell back, “And I’d have to go fuck someone else, with the thought of you in my head.” 

Your cunt takes in every inch of him, eliciting a groan from the back of Scara’s throat. With how well he's prepared you there isn’t too much pain, it just feels good. The more he slowly lets you sit with him inside you the more impatient you become. You’ve waited so long for this, for him. 

If you weren’t lying down you fear you would have collapsed, your thighs were shaking and legs weak with just his cock sitting inside of you. Scara moves his hands to your thighs, holding onto them for stability as his dick twitched inside your tight walls. He lets out a shuddered breath as he rocked his cock into you, leaning forward so your clit is grinding against his pubic bone. 

“Kuni,” you gasp, rocking your hips back and forth, fingers threaded into his hair, “Please. Fuck me.”

“So needy,” he mumbles, dipping his face into your neck once again, “I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

You feel your body squirm underneath him impatiently, and you can feel his smirk against your skin at how desperate you were for him. A part of you knew he wasn’t holding back just to tease you, though.

He tilts his head up, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

And with that his hands settle on your hips, grabbing them as he starts to slam his cock up into you. 

“So tight for me,” you hear him groan between pants as you cry out loudly, the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. He manages to find your spot with ease, striking it over and over again as you become putty underneath him. You grind your hips up against him, matching his rhythm. 

“Mhm, Kuni,” you let out, breathless, in a daze as the pleasure soares through you. You wanted him. You wanted all of him. 

You manage to open your eyes, cheeks flushed to see him looking just as taken out as you. His lips caught between his teeth as he thrusts into you, panting above you. It only makes you wetter. He glances down and you follow his gaze. Watching his cock disappear into you, only to reappear covered in your wetness, and go back in to cause a bulge in your abdomen. It makes you dizzy with how much more intensely you can feel him.  

“Kuni…,” you swallow, letting your hands trail his back. His skin was damp with sweat, and touching him just made you want him closer. You lift your hips and your legs to wrap around his waist, and he grabs onto your waist to fuck deeper into you. The change in angle feels good. You can feel your orgasm start to build.

Scara wasn’t religious, but he might as well be if making you cry out like this from beneath him was his form of worship. Your voice was behind some of the greatest songs, but even better when it was like this, a sound reserved just for him.

The strength of it almost knocks you out as pleasure you've never felt before rushes through your body. Crying out and grabbing onto whichever part of him u can reach first. Your nails dig into his back as he finishes inside you. 

The fullness you felt before is nothing compared to this. You cum around his cock and and the feeling of it is never-ending. You’re so full you feel like you’re gonna explode. But your orgasm just seems to continue, almost like a wave after wave of it is surging through you. Your head is in such a daze you don’t even try to hold back any sound slipping through your mouth.

masc version

He brings his head down, his hands roaming your waist as his teeth grasp onto the hem of your boxers, dragging them down. He looks up as you, with half lidded eyes as he does so. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out as he bullies his way between your legs. He holds them open with his knees as looms over you. 

He doesn’t make you wait, his lips already on your calf as he makes his way up to your cock. He pushes your sweater up the slightest, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin as your head falls back at the feeling. His breath is hot against your cock as you let out a string of incoherent moans. 

You’re fully hard by now, your cock resting against your stomach as Scaras’s breath fans over your member. It was already beginning to leak with arousal. You unintentionally squirm, your impatience showing as Scara’s hands run up and down your pelvis, but he avoids your cock, driving you crazy. 

He doesn’t make you wait too long before he takes your cock with his lips. He’s enthusiastic with the way he varies between kissing, licking, and sucking. The soft muscle of his tongue paired with the unforgiving metal feels otherworldly. He easily takes you all the way, and you want to watch him do so but the pleasure surges through you, causing your eyes to fall shut as you buck your hips up into him. He lets your cock fall out to drag his tongue down and across your slit.

“All for me, huh?” he murmurs, as he takes you again. He’s pushing your body up slightly, fitting himself to lay on his stomach and right between your legs. You sit with your head laying against the pillows as Scara makes some of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing his head between your legs drives your hand to rush forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, not brave enough to pull yet. You tug just a little, eliciting him to groan around cock. You can feel the metal stud and the vibrations run through you. And it’s heavenly. 

He gasps as he lifts his head, lips wet and pupils completely blown. He presses a kiss to the head of your cock before going back with even more vigor. He was wrapped around you and neither of you could get enough. 

It should be embarrassing, being this vulnerable in front of him when he’s the one you’ve tried so hard to never stumble in front of. But that feeling disintegrates when he presses a kiss to the head of your cock, and the only thing running through your head is how good he feels.

“Kuni, please,” you let out, your hands tangled in his hair. He pulls back to drag his tongue across the head, causing you to instinctively buck up your hips into him. 

“Fuck me,” he says, in between sucking your cock, “Fuck my throat.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. His hands come under your thighs, lifting them above his shoulder so he can get better access. You do as you're told and grind your cock into him, desperate for any friction as his throat closes around you. You feel your cock hitting the back of his throat. He groans into you, or maybe he’s talking, but you can’t tell because of how good you feel buried into him. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper out, eyes falling shut. The words seem to make him work faster, so you let them all tumble out of you. He always was one to work harder with praise. 

“Mm you’re so good at this,” you moan, pressing his head against your cock, “Taking it so well, don’t stop.”

He moans into you and you feel satisfied at making him feel good like this. It’s not just your words, you can see him grinding into the mattress beneath you as he sucks you off. He’s ignoring his own problem just to make you feel good, and you want nothing but to show him you can do it too.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hand caressing your waist as you buck your hips into his mouth. His voice is so soft, and it’s only for your ears. That was enough.

The orgasm hits you, and you’ve never felt anything like it before. Your eyes cloud with bliss as you ride it out on his tongue. Scara licks every drop that you release, holding your trembling thighs as you finish in him. When he pulls back and looks up at you, you can see remnants of your juice dripping down his chin. 

He crawls back up onto you, wasting no time as his lips find yours again. You taste yourself on him and let him swell your lips. He’s kissing you, and you're desperate to get him off, too.

“Kuni,” you mumble as his lips drag against your collar bone, “Let me. Let me help you.”

“You don’t have too,” he says, burying his face in your neck as you rake your fingers through his hair.

“I want to,” you say, practically begging. 

Scara pulls back, a different gaze in his eyes as he searches your face.

“Alright,” he says, pushing himself off you, and getting off you and sitting himself on the edge of the bed. You stood there, unsure if you were supposed to take anything else off. You’d never done anything like this before. 

“Leave it on,” Scara calls out, making the decision for you, “Come.”

Scara grabs a pillow and tossed it onto the floor. At your confused glance Scara fought back the urge to tease.

“For your knees,” he states, pushing you down by the shoulder. 

You settle yourself between his legs, as soon as you do Scara starts carding his fingers through your hair. His fingers find the back of your neck, swiftly unclasping your necklace.

“Won’t get in the way,” he murmurs, “Whenever you want to get started,” he adds, playing with the barbell in his mouth as you stare at the mound in his pants. Sensing your nervousness, he reaches over to grab your hand and places it by his waistband.

You tug his pants down, the lack of boxers causing his cock to spring up against his stomach. You reach out, grabbing it by the base and guiding Scara’s cock to your mouth. Scara’s hand caressed your scalp as the other one guided himself into you. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling lightheaded at the sensation. You didn’t quite know what you were doing, but you let yourself sink lower. You try to mimic what he did to you. Your tongue glides across his length as you taste his precum. You instinctively reach out to taste more, eliciting a small groan from Scara as your tongue slides against his slit.

Scara could feel your inexperience, with the way your teeth scraped against him, but he didn’t care. Seeing your pretty mouth take him like this was enough for him to finish into your mouth. You didn’t quite know how to swallow him, it was only when Scara tugged your hair that you looked up at him. You let go of his cock with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.  

“Do you want more?” Scara asks, it was taking everything in him to not let loose and fuck your throat. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to voice anything.

“Alright, take it then,” he says. He reaches over and pushes your head so his cock is back in your mouth, this time reaching the back of your throat. When you didn’t resist he pressed more, until your lips were at the base of his cock. Your hands were digging into his thighs to keep you steady, his hand on your head as he held you there for a few seconds. 

“Shit,” Scara moans, “I’m gonna fuck your throat now, okay?”

You can only moan around his length in response, already feeling yourself getting wet again.

“Tap me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, before thrusting into your mouth. 

Your mouth is full of him and you choke down on his cock. Scara’s hand is at the back of your head, and he’s trying to have some self control for your sake as you’re forced to swallow down his cock. 

You gag at the feeling of him stuffed so far down your throat. Scara tugs at your head, enough for you to grab a breath before you’re being smothered with his cock again. You drag your tongue across his length as he takes your mouth again, and you can hear his moans vibrate through you.

Over the years, you’ve heard Scara’s voice on countless tracks where he’s moaned and sang about sex. You’ve always found it distasteful, but now with your mouth around him you want nothing more than to hear him make sounds only you get to hear. 

“Not so mouthy now, are you,” Scara hums, and he hisses as you respond with your lips tight around the midpoint of his cock. 

You reach your hand up and grab ahold of the base of his cock, jerking him off as he fucks into you. Before you know it, Scara’s cock pulses against your tongue and his body tremors as he cums down your throat. There’s so much, and it fills your mouth before you can swallow and then it’s seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Scara continues to pump into you, his pace slow as you take what you can from him.

You retreat and watch as his cock continues to leak. Your knees are practically trembling as you force yourself to stand up. Scara grabs you by the waist and tugs you to change positions so you’re now straddling him. Your arms circle his neck before he’s kissing you again, cleaning his cum off you as you moan into his mouth. 

“Off,” you manage to gasp out. Scara takes the hint and pulls your sweater over your head, until you’re bare chested against him. He does the same, and you swallow at the ink trailing along his delicate body. 

He gently turns you over, pressing your back into the mattress as his lips move across you. His kisses are bruising, his tongue pushing past your lips and down to your nipples. There’s a sharp pain as he tugs at it, before his tongue sweeps over it again. He continues doing it over and over again until you’re digging your fingers into him, a shaking mess against him. 

You’re barely hanging on now, practically dripping beneath him once again, your cock against your stomach again and you want to feel him more than you already have. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, “Fuck me.”

“You’re not gonna ask nicely?” he teases with the tone you’re usually used to with him, but there's something else laced underneath, something akin to concern.

“I’m sure,” you plead, “Please, just fuck me already.”

Scara abandons your chest to move a hand towards your lips. He opens them with his fingers, guiding you to suck. When he pulls back there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers as he moves it down to your hole. 

His lips are near your ear as drags his fingers down your chest and onto your stomach, before he’s teasing your inner thigh. Before you knew it he was pressing a slick finger into you, lips kissing your neck as you let out a moan. Your hands slide underneath the pillow behind your head, back arching at just one finger. Soon he added another, working a rhythm that had you gasping. You grind your hips up into his hand, arching your lower back to take more.

Scara responds by expertly angling his fingers down, hunting for your g-spot. The sounds that escaped your lips made it obvious when he found it. It was a breathy cry that sounded like you were begging, and he was desperate to hear it again, brushing his fingers against it over and over again. 

You were whining into the air and Scara was swallowing down his urges to fuck you against the bed right then. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. But no, he was going to take his time with you.

“Please,” you babbled, rocking your hips up, “Come on already, I want you.”

He couldn’t tease you any longer when you sounded so pretty begging for his cock. He pulls his fingers free, stroking himself with your wetness. 

“Shouldn’t I be on my front?” you question, your inexperience showing. The idea made you a little shy.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, “I want to see you.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment as he caresses your legs. 

“I want to see you enjoying my cock,” he adds, his hands finding your cock as he slowly jerks you off. Your eyes fall shut as he does so. After a few pumps he removes his hand you hear the crinkle of a condom packet. You wrinkle your nose at it without thinking. 

“I’ve never had anyone. Put it in without that.”

“Like you need to remind me,” Scara chuckles, “What about me? I have my results–.”

“I trust you.”

The words pierce through Scara. He tosses the condom aside.

You let out a moan of anticipation as Scara presses down on your hips, spreading your legs open for him. Steadily, and with all the care he could muster, Scara lined his cock up with your entrance. A part of you wanted to tell him to hurry along, but the bigger part of you was melting at the care behind every touch. 

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, your warm walls sucking him in even further. 

You gasp as this divine pleasure is finally inside of you. He gradually pushed himself inside of you, your eyes falling shut at being breached for the first time. He’s moving slow, too slow, and you know it’s because it’s your first time but fuck you need him to go faster. 

“Fuck, Yn,” Scara groaned, “You know how hard I used to get, right after we’d fight?” he adds as he’s caressing your hips as your head fell back, “And I’d have to go fuck someone else, with the thought of you in my head.” 

Your hole takes in every inch of him, eliciting a groan from the back of Scara’s throat. With how well he prepared you there isn’t too much pain, it just feels good. The more he slowly lets you sit with him inside you the more impatient you become. You’ve waited so long for this, for him. 

If you weren’t lying down you fear you would have collapsed, your thighs were shaking and legs weak with just his cock sitting inside of you. Scara moves his hands to your thighs, holding onto them for stability as his dick twitched inside your tight walls. He lets out a shuddered breath as he rocked his cock into you, leaning forward so you’re grinding against his pubic bone. 

“Kuni,” you gasp, rocking your hips back and forth, fingers threaded into his hair, “Please. Fuck me.”

“So needy,” he mumbles, dipping his face into your neck once again, “I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

You feel your body squirm underneath him impatiently, and you can feel his smirk against your skin at how desperate you were for him. A part of you knew he wasn’t holding back just to tease you, though.

He tilts his head up, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

And with that his hands settle on your hips, grabbing them as he starts to slam his cock up into you. 

“So tight for me,” you hear him groan between pants as you cry out loudly, the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. He manages to find your spot with ease, striking it over and over again as you become putty underneath him. You grind your hips up against him, matching his rhythm. 

“Mhm, Kuni,” you let out, breathless, in a daze as the pleasure soares through you. You wanted him. You wanted all of him. 

“Be good and jerk yourself off for me,” he murmurs. You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hand falling to your own cock and matching his rhythm. The pleasure from both was almost unbearable. 

You manage to open your eyes, cheeks flushed to see him looking just as taken out as you. His lips caught between his teeth as he thrusts into you, panting above you. It only makes you grow harder. He glances down and you follow his gaze. Watching his cock disappear into you, only to reappear covered in his wetness, and go back in. It makes you dizzy with how much more intensely you can feel him.  

“Kuni…,” you swallow, letting your hands trail his back. His skin was damp with sweat, and touching him just made you want him closer. You lift your hips and your legs to wrap around his waist, and he grabs onto your waist to fuck deeper into you. The change in angle feels good. You can feel your orgasm start to build.

Scara wasn’t religious, but he might as well be if making you cry out like this from beneath him was his form of worship. Your voice was behind some of the greatest songs, but even better when it was like this, a sound reserved just for him.

The strength of it almost knocks you out as pleasure you've never felt before rushes through your body. Crying out and grabbing onto whichever part of him u can reach first. Your nails dig into his back as he finishes inside you. 

The fullness you felt before is nothing compared to this. You cum onto your stomach and the feeling of it is never-ending. You’re so full you feel like you’re gonna explode. But your orgasm just seems to continue, almost like a wave after wave of it is surging through you. Your head is in such a daze you don’t even try to hold back any sound slipping through your mouth.

gender neutral ending

You don’t even notice the tears at the corner of your eyes until you feel the gentle touch of skin on your cheek as Scara wipes them away, slowing down as you both finish riding your orgasm out. 

His hands move to your hips as his lips ghost your cheek. “Rest,” he commands softly, “I’ll clean you up.”

You’re not even in the headspace to protest. You’re completely blissed out, feeling like you could fall asleep right there underneath him. But you fight to stay awake as your eyes fall shut, focusing on the touches of him. At how he slowly pulls out of you, and you can feel his cum slip out of you. The gentle touch as he lifts your hips to move you. Or how he grabs his pants and slides them onto you as he cleans you off. And the necklace he took off of you, because of how it got in the way, and how he gently clasped it around your neck once more. But he never pulls away from you, always one hand on you as he moves around. 

The passion from early is replaced with a Scara, a Kuni, you’ve never seen before. After a while he shifts you both to the side, to where you can rest your head on his arm as his other palm draws circles in your hips. You let your eyes finally open, met with his boring right back into you. If you weren’t sober before you definitely were now. Before you can say anything he leans forward to give you a chaste kiss, before moving his lips down to your neck. You let yourself slot into him, like you were always meant to be there.

“Kuni,” you whisper, a string of questions at the tip of your tongue, all related to what you both were. 

Instead you find yourself asking, “Was I good?”

“So good,” he murmurs, his voice piercing through you as he’s right by his ear, “Talk tomorrow,” he adds, his lips pressed against your neck, as if he can feel your questions. You want to protest, but your body falls into him. His warm breath on your neck and his hair tickling you as you let your eyes fall shut. 

You’ll let yourself enjoy this one night. Maybe the questions were best left unanswered, because it might mean you wouldn’t get to hold him like this ever again.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

tldr: they redid their first kiss and yn lost their virginity to scara hashtag freaky

if u see any typos pls lmk 😭 i wanna make sure each version is for their own gender

sorry in advance for cluttering my feed, the read more option doesn’t work for me sometimes sooo, also no interview for this one since it’s sorta a bonus chapter

see it wasn’t too quick, trust ur alpha ! 🐺

if anyone dislikes scaras being a top in this erm look away then and don’t attack me! also i like how this lowk implies scara just carries a condom around cus where did he get that

also yn has hair in this au help sawry if ur bald

also refer to this chapter to see the dorm map, delusion has two extra rooms they don’t use! my original plan was to have them just do it under the covers but this is better xx

i never rlly write smut so pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed this 😖

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — fun fact i sent this smut to my friend and she tried it out with her bf and he moaned like a bitch so it works!! satisfaction guaranteed!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @webbywill @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

19 stuck with you — you get me so high ! (18+)

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

contains: mentions of weed, smut

PLEASE READ if you are uncomfortable with smut feel free to read up until the point where it starts, there'll be a divider letting you know where that is! i recommend you also read the ending as well. there's a fem and masc version, skip to the version you want to read, both have the same ending!

SCARA'S POINT OF VIEW

The kitchen was still, cloaked in the quiet that only the dead of a summer’s night could bring. The hush was barely broken by the low gurgle of water coming to a boil and the faint clink of a spoon as Scara carefully measured honey into a cup. You liked your tea sweet. The scent of the brewing yuja tea lingered in the air as he set your mug down, the quiet moment stretching.

You’d mumbled something earlier about needing a shower once everyone had left. It had been a while since the others had gone, but he figured you just wanted some space, maybe even from him. It was rather awkward to be the only two on the island after all. He was even making the dinner deliberately slow, hoping to share it with you. Just as he was about to put it away, you walked in.

Your hair was still damp, and your cheeks held a warmth he guessed was from the weather. But when your eyes met his, he felt a sudden heat rise in his own skin. For a fleeting second, he let himself imagine that maybe you wanted him too.

“Is this for me?" you ask, your eyes locking on the gift box sitting at the edge of the table. Scara hadn't even noticed it until now, but as you speak, his gaze shifts, and he sees the tag, your name scrawled across it, and then his, in the same messy handwriting.

 “Did you get this for me?” you ask, your hand already reaching for it. But before you can grab it, Scara snatches it up quickly, a flash of awkwardness crossing his face. 

“I did not,” he mutters, unwrapping the box with exaggerated care, though his mind is already racing. Inside, there’s an assortment of snacks. None of which you liked. 

“I was gonna say,” you laugh softly, picking up a pack of berry tarts, “I’m not a fan of any of this stuff.” 

Scara sighs and flips the card over, glancing at the scribbled message. "Then it was from those idiots," he says, his voice dropping into a casual grumble. "My handwriting’s better than this. And I know you better than they do."

He doesn’t notice the way your cheeks flush, the faint pink coloring your skin as you glance up at him, your heart suddenly skipping a beat at his words. Scara catches sight of your expression for just a second, but before he can make sense of it, he's already focused on the card again, flipping it over and tossing it aside. He’s always been good at pretending to be uninterested in things that matter.

“Hey, at least something else smells good,” You say, sitting across from him at the island as he plates the food. Without the lights of the cameras in his face, it feels too domestic. The way he hands you a plate and watches you take a bite, biting his cheek and hoping you’ll like it. 

And when you stand beside him to wash the dishes, and he can’t tell where he ends and you begin when both of you are elbow deep in soap bubbles. Or the way you shove his shoulder on the walk back to the dorms at something he said, he’s thankful the darkness hides his smile at making you laugh. 

He wants more of you. All of you.

That’s why when you run back into your room, he feels his stomach twist with something cold. He had hoped tonight might be the night when you both finally opened up to each other. And coming from someone as emotionally constipated as him, that was a pretty huge leap to make.

He even lingered outside your dorm door for a moment, fingers hovering just inches from the knob, as though touching it might make everything real, might pull him closer to something he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Or worse, something, someone, he could never have. But in the end, he’d turned away, stepping back toward his own room, heart thudding in his chest, silently cursing the distance he couldn't quite bridge.

He dragged his feet back to his own room, the quiet hum of the night feeling far too loud now, and waited for the next moment, the next sign that maybe you’d feel the same way. He swore to himself he'd jump at it.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW:

Aside from the lonely tripods and Scara on the island, you were completely alone. It was unsettling. You didn’t know how to face Scara by yourself, so after dinner, you bolted to your room and waited until you heard his door close before sneaking back into the living room. You knew this was your chance to talk to him, but maybe a part of you was sabotaging it. If you never tried, you’d never get rejected, right?

The dark, empty communal room felt different. You hadn’t slept alone since your trainee days. Ever since, there’d always been a roommate or one of your members just a door away. Without that, you felt a little uneasy.

The moonlight streamed through the bare windows, flickering across the room. The hardwood floor was cold, offering no comfort, while your comforter was pulled tight around your shoulders.

"Why are you sitting in the dark like a creep?"

You jump, your heart lurching. It’s just Scara.

“I’m chilling,” you mutter, though you don’t sound convincing.

“It’s 1 a.m.,” he points out dryly.

“Why are you up at 1 a.m.?”

“I had to piss.”

“Okay, don’t tell me that,” you reply, wincing.

“You literally asked,” he says as he turns to head back to his room. But then he pauses, glances over his shoulder, and looks at you with something like curiosity.

“Wait. Are you sitting out here because you’re scared?”

You hesitate. “Of course not! The floor is just... really comfortable,” you lie through your teeth. You couldn’t be less comfortable if you tried.

A few weeks ago, just the thought of giving Scaramouche any more material to tease you with would’ve made your chest tighten. But now, it's different. Your chest is still tight, but it’s with something else. Or maybe it was that something else all along.

“You really think you’re gonna sleep out here and get any rest?” he asks, his eyes scanning your little setup.

“Yes,” you reply, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Alright,” he mutters, turning to walk back to his room. For a brief second, your heart sinks. You can’t help but hope, maybe, just maybe, he’d want to stay too.

And then, just as you start to convince yourself that was a silly thought, Scara’s back. He throws his blanket onto the floor and sits down next to you, pulling out a joint from his pocket.

“You’re staying?” you ask, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he scoffs, flicking open his lighter. The sound of it snapping to life cuts through the silence of the night. He lights up his joint and he inhales, then turns to you as he exhales, the smoke curling around him.

He passes the joint to you, and you reach out, reluctantly leaving the warmth of your blanket to take it from him.

He pulls out a pack of UNO cards that must’ve been left behind by Fischl, and the two of you start a lazy game, passing the joint back and forth. With every hit, the cool night air feels warmer, and the color of his lips seems to burn brighter, his eyes locking onto yours with every exhale. The moonlight kisses his skin, making him look almost ethereal, like porcelain touched by shadows.

You used to get so irrationally angry when you saw him. But when you didn’t run into him, you felt disappointed. You always tried to be better than him, but deep down, you also wanted to impress him. Every time you succeeded at something, his face was the first one you searched for in the crowd. And now, his face is the one you’re staring at. The face of a man you don’t know anything about, nothing mundane, anyway.

“Kuni,” the name feels like it belongs to you alone, slipping off your tongue with a strange sense of ownership. “Let’s play twenty-one questions.”

“Fine,” he hums, placing down another +2 card on you. “I’ll ask.”

SCARA'S POINT OF VIEW

It was just the two of you, and the thought of it alone ignited something in his chest. It started small, but then it was like a torch had gone off, burning hotter than the weed between his fingers.

He knows you. Or at least, he thinks he does. He knows when you’re hungry, when you’re frustrated, when you’re on the verge of blowing up about something. He knows your favorite dance practice room (the one on the third floor, with that damn view of the city you never shut up about). He’d intentionally book it, just so you’d storm in, all fiery eyed and angry, only for him to struggle keeping his chest from burning with something else. He even knows what you’re allergic to and that you’re terrified of flying. But there are things he doesn’t know. Things that gnaw at him when he lets his guard down, like what kind of food you eat when you’re sad or what color you’d call your favorite. Hell, he doesn’t even know if you had a middle name.

“Favorite color?”

He asks the question, and the sound of your laugh hits him like a punch to the ribs.

“You know,” you laugh, still in the middle of that soft chuckle, “people usually ask juicier questions.”

“That’s for people with interesting lives,” he counters, trying to keep his tone light, but it feels too easy to let the edge slip.

You sigh, your voice suddenly soft and almost resigned. “It’s [Color],” you say, the words slipping out almost casually, like it’s no big deal. He stores it away in the back of his mind, tucking it there next to everything else he’s noticed about you.

He watches you take another hit, eyes fixed on you as you exhale. There’s a moment of silence, of something unspoken hanging between you, and he breaks it.

“I’ll play properly,” you say, “Who was your first kiss?”

“Some random trainee,” he answers easily,  and it’s the truth. He distinctly remembers just wanting to get it over with after a late night. His mom had argued with him over something or the other. And you had bested him in the weekly rankings. He’d wanted to feel in control of something for once.

He’s never been good at firsts, never really cared. But there’s something different about this conversation. About you. 

He finds himself caring about his firsts with you.

“It doesn’t bother you that you don’t remember?”

“No," he says, the words feeling true, even if they’re colder than they should be. "It’s not like any of them mattered.”

“Cold as always,” you tease with that smile that somehow feels sharper than it looks, and he has to bite back a frown. He didn’t care about being perceived as indifferent, it’s what most of the world saw him as. Bur he didn’t want you to view him like that, but he couldn’t undo emotional constipation overnight. 

He thinks about the kiss you both shared. It sits there, on his tongue, lodged in his throat like everything else he hasn’t said. 

“I was Childe’s first, though,” he says suddenly, watching your reaction. He knows this’ll get you to feel better. And it does.

You gasp. "Wait, really?"

“Yeah,” he smirks,“He was seventeen, terrified, wanted to get it over with.”

“God,” you giggle, “The shippers would have a field day with this. He probably brings it up every day, huh?”

“Every chance he gets,” he confirms, amused by your reaction.

“At least that one has some meaning behind it,” you murmur, thoughtful for a second, then your gaze softens. “I can’t imagine not remembering.”

His eyes narrow, the question coming before he has a chance to stop it. The weed loosens his tongue, chips away at the usual walls.

“Would you redo yours?” Ours. 

You pause, twirling the joint in your fingers, clearly thinking it over. The silence between you both feels thicker now.

“I would’ve preferred a real kiss to be my first, and off camera,” you finally admit, voice quieter, vulnerable in a way that makes his chest tighten.

“And what about with whom?” he asks, voice low, almost too casual. Like he wasn’t just asking something that made his throat close up. 

You hesitate, eyes darting to the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“I wouldn’t change that,” you finally answer, and he swallows hard, fighting the urge to lean closer.

“I thought you were saving it for someone special.” 

“I am.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. The kind that lingers and fills every gap between you. Then you turn, your eyes unfocused and glassy from the weed, but there's something else in them. Something he can’t quite place, something raw.

And before he can stop himself, before he can even consider pulling away, the thought bursts from him. The words spill out, the same way they always do when he lets his guard down.

His eyes were screaming what his lips feared to whisper. 

Kiss me.

“What?”

Oh. It seems he said that aloud. 

The confusion in your voice is pulling him back, but his heart is already pounding too loudly for him to care.

“Let me give you a memorable one,” he says, more sure this time. His voice is steady, but his throat is dry. He’s never been good at saying these things, at offering something so... open. He’s waiting, hoping for you to take that final step, even though it feels like he's teetering on the edge of something he can’t control.

“But I don’t want another fake first kiss.” Your voice is quieter now, a trace of hesitation in your words.

“Who said it would be fake?” His voice cracks just slightly. He feels ridiculous, but he can’t back down now.

You look at him, really look at him, and the pause stretches between you both like it’s holding its breath. Then, almost imperceptibly, you nod.

“Okay.”

Scara doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with the wild pounding in his chest. The last time he felt like this was in his teens, standing in front of a judges panel, including his mother, to audition for her own company. He can still remember the way his stomach flipped when she held up the placard with the bright red X on it, signaling him to restart the entire process. It wasn’t nearly the same, but the feeling of that anticipation? It’s all too familiar now. 

The only difference is, this time, he doesn’t want to run away. This time, he doesn’t want to hide.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW: 

Who said it would be fake? 

The words ring in your ear like an anthem. There was no amount of backpedaling you could do to make those words sound different. Scara wanted to kiss you. Kuni, your Kuni, wanted to kiss you. 

You feel Scara more than you hear him. The shuffling of his body as he comes closer, the air on your skin as he unwraps your comforter, the softness of his breath brushing against your face. The familiarity of him feels safe, and you let yourself get pulled in.  

He slides the blanket over you both, until you can’t see an inch in front of you.

“Why…?”

“You said off camera, right?” he says, his voice just above a whisper. His palm reaches out to cup your cheek gently, as he leans in.

You both hesitate for just a breath. Your ears are on the lookout for any trace of weirdness. Because this is Scara, your rival Kuni, so theoretically it would be terrible to be this close to him. With your noses barely brushing together, the sting of the metal as your fingers curl his hair behind his ear, and the warmth radiating off him. But instead of feeling resentment, you’re curious.

Before you could overthink yourself into a panic, Scara closes the distance and lets his lips press against yours. Soft is your first impression. Scara’s lips are velvety and taste faintly of the toothpaste in the dorms. 

His hands curl around your head and you both only part for a moment before he’s kissing you again. And again. Until he’s gently pushing you down, hovering above you as you curl your arms around his neck. You were expecting a fireworks moment, and maybe that was a little childish of you. But instead, you feel light. Like this is what you were always supposed to be doing.

Scara is cautious when he kisses you. His hands caressing the side of your face like you’ll fall apart at his touch. Or when your lips part and his tongue slips inside your mouth, the cold taste of metal mixed with the feelings of his lips. You feel your entire body craving for him in a way you’ve never felt before.

He turns his face into the crook of your neck and you try to ignore the way your breath hitches. His lips trail off to the side of it, and you let out an incoherent noise as his lips move down your skin, leaving marks in its wake. 

The haze of post high leaves your brain to stop holding you back. So with every kiss and bite he leaves you find yourself gasping at the pleasure. His knee is between your legs and his chest is right against yours and you have the primal urge to let him have you.  

“Fuck, wait,” he mumbles, his lips still against your skin as his free hand slides underneath your top and slip into your waistband, his fingers teasing the hem of your underwear before he finds your mic pack and rips it off. His other hand snakes towards your neck to clip off the mic necklace, but he leaves your other one on. 

He removes his own with a quickness that has your hands roaming his chest as he leans back in and tugs at the swell of your bottom lip, pulling it lightly between his teeth.

A small bite before his lips are just above your ear, “Push me off right now,” he whispers, out of breath, “If you don’t want this, do it right now.”

You pull him in.

The years of the push and pull between you two went up in flames as his lips devoured yours. All that rivalry for you two to end up like this.  It was as if every word, every glance, every challenge led to this one breathless kiss. The lines between love and hate blurred in an instant, and for the first time, neither of you cared who won.

Scara’s hands have so many metal rings, and they’re cold against your skin when he touches you. He was so gentle with you, only touching you in places he knows where you’ll feel good. Of course Scara would know where you’d feel good, his hands have roamed countless bodies before yours. But with the way his lips caress your skin ever so delicately, like he’s scared you’ll fall apart right beneath him, makes you feel like this time is different for him as well.

“Come on,” he says, pulling away as you chase his lips. 

“Hm?” you say, still in a daze as he gently tosses the comforter off of you both, “Why not here?”

“You don’t want your first on the floor, do you?” he says, pulling you up. You can’t help yourself, letting yourself fall into him when you’re both standing. He doesn’t stop you, kissing you back as he guides you both towards the rooms. 

He’s dragging his lips into the nape of your neck as he fumbles getting the door open. You both stumble in together, your back pressed against the wall as he moves his lips around your jaw. Scara smells like expensive cologne and wine and a distinct scent that was his and never went away. 

“Why not your room?” you gasp, eyeing the place you were in. One of the unused dorm rooms.

“No cameras here,” he mumbles against your skin. You could get off on just the fact he cared this much. 

You weren’t sure which part of you both collided first, your lips or hips. You gripped onto his neck like a lifeline, to steady yourself from the liquid pleasure trickling all the way from your stomach down to your sex. And with that you tug him in closer, feeling his hands sneak under your shirt as he marks your skin like it’s his. His hands move down to your hips, guiding you to grind against him. The slow grind of your hips continued and the breathy moans coming out of your mouth only made Scara throb against you.

“I bet I could make you cum just like this,” Scara murmurs against your neck, his voice husky as a warm, wet arousal dampens your underwear. You start to think he may just be right. 

You roll up your hips against him, and Scara’s fingers dig deeper into your waist at the pleasure. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, grinding against him as he guides his hips against yours. The friction from the mound in his pants against your thin pajamas is slowly driving you insane. You didn’t think you could ever feel something like this. 

You tilt your head, allowing him more access to your throat as he leaves a trail of hickies in his wake. You long to feel his mouth against every part of your skin. Your core is throbbing in anticipation of his touch, and he senses it as well.

“Come lay down for me,” his voice barely above a whisper as he guides you towards the bed. Even in your haze of pleasure, you can feel how soft he’s being. Even with the bulge in his pants, begging for release, he takes his time putting a pillow behind you and spreading your legs. You’ve never been this open before with anyone. 

He lifts your hips up for you, sliding your pants off and tossing them to the ground until you’re in nothing but your sweater and underwear. 

fem version

He brings his head down, his hands roaming your waist as his teeth grasp onto the hem of your panties, dragging them down. He looks up as you, with half lidded eyes as he does so. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out as he bullies his way between your legs. He holds them open with his knees as looms over you. 

He doesn’t make you wait, his lips already on your calf as he makes his way down to your sex. He pushes your sweater up the slightest, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin as your head falls back at the feeling. His breath is hot against your wet sex as you let out a string of incoherent moans. 

He’s enthusiastic with the way he varies between kissing, licking, and sucking. Scara licks into you with startling precision. The soft muscle of his tongue paired with the unforgiving metal feels otherworldly. He’s pushing your body up slightly, fitting himself to lay on his stomach and right between your legs. You sit with your head laying against the pillows as Scara makes some of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing his head between your legs drives your hand to rush forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, not brave enough to pull yet. You tug just a little, eliciting him to groan against your sex. You can feel the metal stud. And it’s heavenly. 

He gasps as he lifts his head, lips wet and pupils completely blown. He presses a kiss to your calf before going back with even more vigor. You were wrapped around his tongue and couldn’t get enough. You didn’t have a second to catch your breath as his tongue darts out and makes contact with your outer lip. 

It should be embarrassing, being this vulnerable in front of him when he’s the one you’ve tried so hard to never stumble in front of. But that feeling disintegrates when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, and the only thing running through your head is how good he feels.

“Kuni, please,” you let out, your hands tangled in his hair. He kisses it again, causing you to instinctively buck up your hips into him. 

“Grind,” he says, in between licking your cunt, “Grind into me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. His hands come under your thighs, lifting them above his shoulder so he can get better access. You do as you're told and grind your pussy into him, desperate for any friction as his tongue darts in and out of you. He groans into you, or maybe he’s talking, but you can’t tell because of how good his face feels buried into your pussy. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper out, eyes falling shut. The words seem to make him work faster, so you let them all tumble out of you. He always was one to work harder with praise. 

“Mm you’re so good at this,” you moan, pressing his head against your cunt, “Don’t stop.”

He moans into you and you feel satisfied at making him feel good like this. It’s not just your words, you can see him grinding into the mattress beneath you as he eats you out. He’s ignoring his own problem just to make you feel good, and you want nothing but to show him you can do it too.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hand caressing your waist as you buck your hips into his mouth. His voice is so soft, and it’s only for your ears. That was enough.

The orgasm hits you, and you’ve never felt anything like it before. Your eyes cloud with bliss as you ride it out on his tongue. Scara licks every drop that you release, holding your trembling thighs as you finish on him. When he pulls back and looks up at you, you can see remnants of your juice dripping down his chin. 

He crawls back up onto you, wasting no time as his lips find yours again. You taste yourself on him and let him swell your lips. He’s kissing you, and you're desperate to get him off, too.

“Kuni,” you mumble as his lips drag against your collar bone, “Let me. Let me help you.”

“You don’t have too,” he says, burying his face in your neck as you rake your fingers through his hair.

“I want to,” you say, practically begging. 

Scara pulls back, a different gaze in his eyes as he searches your face.

“Alright,” he says, pushing himself off you, and getting off you and sitting himself on the edge of the bed. You stood there, unsure if you were supposed to take anything else off. You’d never done anything like this before. 

“Leave it on,” Scara calls out, making the decision for you, “Come.”

Scara grabs a pillow and tosses it onto the floor. At your confused glance Scara fought back the urge to tease.

“For your knees,” he states, pushing you down by the shoulder. 

You settle yourself between his legs, as soon as you do Scara starts carding his fingers through your hair. His fingers find the back of your neck, swiftly unclasping your necklace.

“Won’t get in the way,” he murmurs, “Whenever you want to get started,” he adds, playing with the barbell in his mouth as you stare at the mound in his pants. Sensing your nervousness, he reaches over to grab your hand and places it by his waistband.

You tug his pants down, the lack of boxers causing his cock to spring up against his stomach. You reach out, grabbing it by the base and guiding Scara’s cock to your mouth. Scara’s hand caressed your scalp as the other one guided himself into you. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling lightheaded at the sensation. You didn’t quite know what you were doing, but you let yourself sink lower. Your tongue glides across his length as you taste his precum. You instinctively reach out to taste more, eliciting a small groan from Scara as your tongue slides against his slit.

Scara could feel your inexperience, with the way your teeth scraped against him, but he didn’t care. Seeing your pretty mouth take him like this was enough for him to finish into your mouth. You didn’t quite know how to swallow him, it was only when Scara tugged your hair that you looked up at him. You let go of his cock with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.  

“Do you want more?” Scara asks, it was taking everything in him to not let loose and fuck your throat. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to voice anything.

“Alright, take it then,” he says. He reaches over and pushes your head so his cock is back in your mouth, this time reaching the back of your throat. When you didn’t resist he pressed more, until your lips were at the base of his cock. Your hands were digging into his thighs to keep you steady, his hand on your head as he held you there for a few seconds. 

“Shit,” Scara moans, “I’m gonna fuck your throat now, okay?”

You can only moan around his length in response, already feeling yourself get wet again.

“Tap me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, before thrusting into your mouth. 

Your mouth is full of him and you choke down on his cock. Scara’s hand is at the back of your head, and he’s trying to have some self control for your sake as you’re forced to swallow down his cock. 

You gag at the feeling of him stuffed so far down your throat. Scara tugs at your head, enough for you to grab a breath before you’re being smothered with his cock again. You drag your tongue across his length as he takes your mouth again, and you can hear his moans vibrate through you.

Over the years, you’ve heard Scara’s voice on countless tracks where he’s moaned and sang about sex. You’ve always found it distasteful, but now with your mouth around him you want nothing more than to hear him make sounds only you get to hear. 

“Not so mouthy now, are you,” Scara hums, and he hisses as you respond with your lips tight around the midpoint of his cock. 

You reach your hand up and grab ahold of the base of his cock, jerking him off as he fucks into you. Before you know it, Scara’s cock pulses against your tongue and his body tremors as he cums down your throat. There’s so much, and it fills your mouth before you can swallow and then it’s seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Scara continues to pump into you, his pace slow as you take what you can from him.

You retreat and watch as his cock continues to leak. Your knees are practically trembling as you force yourself to stand up. Scara grabs you by the waist and tugs you to change positions so you’re now straddling him. Your arms circle his neck before he’s kissing you again, cleaning his cum off you as you moan into his mouth. 

“Off,” you manage to gasp out. Scara takes the hint and pulls your sweater over your head, until you’re bare chested against him. He does the same, and you swallow at the ink trailing along his delicate body. 

He gently turns you over, pressing your back into the mattress as his lips move across you. His kisses are bruising, his tongue pushing past your lips and down to your nipples. There’s a sharp pain as he tugs at it, before his tongue sweeps over it again. He continues doing it over and over again until you’re digging your fingers into him, a shaking mess against him. 

You’re barely hanging on now, practically dripping beneath him once again, and you want to feel him more than you already have. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, “Fuck me.”

“You’re not gonna ask nicely?” he teases with the tone you’re usually used to with him, but there's something else laced underneath, something akin to concern.

“I’m sure,” you plead, “Please, just fuck me already.”

Scara abandons your breasts to move a hand towards your lips. He opens them with his fingers, guiding you to suck. When he pulls back there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers as he moves it down to your sex. 

His lips are near your ear as drags his fingers down your chest and onto your stomach, before he’s teasing your inner thigh. Before you knew it he was pressing a slick finger into you, lips kissing your neck as you let out a moan. Your hands slide underneath the pillow behind your head, back arching at just one finger. Soon he added another, working a rhythm that had you gasping. You grind your hips up into his hand, arching your lower back to take more.

Scara responds by expertly angling his fingers down, hunting for your g-spot. The sounds that escaped your lips made it obvious when he found it. It was a breathy cry that sounded like you were begging, and he was desperate to hear it again, brushing his fingers against it over and over again. 

You were whining into the air and Scara was swallowing down his urges to fuck you against the bed right then. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. But no, he was going to take his time with you.

“Please,” you babbled, rocking your hips up, “Come on already, I want you.”

He couldn’t tease you any longer when you sounded so pretty begging for his cock. He pulls his fingers free, stroking himself with your wetness. Your eyes are shut, waiting for him when you hear the crinkle of a condom packet. You wrinkle your nose at it without thinking. 

“I’ve never had anyone. Put it in without that.”

“Like you need to remind me,” Scara chuckles, “What about me? I have my results–.”

“I trust you.”

The words pierce through Scara. He tosses the condom aside.

You let out a moan of anticipation as Scara presses down on your hips, spreading your legs open for him. Steadily, and with all the care he could muster, Scara lined his cock up with your entrance. A part of you wanted to tell him to hurry along, but the bigger part of you was melting at the care behind every touch. 

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, your warm walls sucking him in even further. 

You gasp as this divine pleasure is finally inside of you. He gradually pushed himself inside of you, your eyes falling shut at being breached for the first time. He’s moving slow, too slow, and you know it’s because it’s your first time but fuck you need him to go faster. 

“Fuck, Yn,” Scara groaned, “You know how hard I used to get, right after we’d fight?” he adds as he’s caressing your hips as your head fell back, “And I’d have to go fuck someone else, with the thought of you in my head.” 

Your cunt takes in every inch of him, eliciting a groan from the back of Scara’s throat. With how well he's prepared you there isn’t too much pain, it just feels good. The more he slowly lets you sit with him inside you the more impatient you become. You’ve waited so long for this, for him. 

If you weren’t lying down you fear you would have collapsed, your thighs were shaking and legs weak with just his cock sitting inside of you. Scara moves his hands to your thighs, holding onto them for stability as his dick twitched inside your tight walls. He lets out a shuddered breath as he rocked his cock into you, leaning forward so your clit is grinding against his pubic bone. 

“Kuni,” you gasp, rocking your hips back and forth, fingers threaded into his hair, “Please. Fuck me.”

“So needy,” he mumbles, dipping his face into your neck once again, “I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

You feel your body squirm underneath him impatiently, and you can feel his smirk against your skin at how desperate you were for him. A part of you knew he wasn’t holding back just to tease you, though.

He tilts his head up, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

And with that his hands settle on your hips, grabbing them as he starts to slam his cock up into you. 

“So tight for me,” you hear him groan between pants as you cry out loudly, the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. He manages to find your spot with ease, striking it over and over again as you become putty underneath him. You grind your hips up against him, matching his rhythm. 

“Mhm, Kuni,” you let out, breathless, in a daze as the pleasure soares through you. You wanted him. You wanted all of him. 

You manage to open your eyes, cheeks flushed to see him looking just as taken out as you. His lips caught between his teeth as he thrusts into you, panting above you. It only makes you wetter. He glances down and you follow his gaze. Watching his cock disappear into you, only to reappear covered in your wetness, and go back in to cause a bulge in your abdomen. It makes you dizzy with how much more intensely you can feel him.  

“Kuni…,” you swallow, letting your hands trail his back. His skin was damp with sweat, and touching him just made you want him closer. You lift your hips and your legs to wrap around his waist, and he grabs onto your waist to fuck deeper into you. The change in angle feels good. You can feel your orgasm start to build.

Scara wasn’t religious, but he might as well be if making you cry out like this from beneath him was his form of worship. Your voice was behind some of the greatest songs, but even better when it was like this, a sound reserved just for him.

The strength of it almost knocks you out as pleasure you've never felt before rushes through your body. Crying out and grabbing onto whichever part of him u can reach first. Your nails dig into his back as he finishes inside you. 

The fullness you felt before is nothing compared to this. You cum around his cock and and the feeling of it is never-ending. You’re so full you feel like you’re gonna explode. But your orgasm just seems to continue, almost like a wave after wave of it is surging through you. Your head is in such a daze you don’t even try to hold back any sound slipping through your mouth.

masc version

He brings his head down, his hands roaming your waist as his teeth grasp onto the hem of your boxers, dragging them down. He looks up as you, with half lidded eyes as he does so. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out as he bullies his way between your legs. He holds them open with his knees as looms over you. 

He doesn’t make you wait, his lips already on your calf as he makes his way up to your cock. He pushes your sweater up the slightest, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin as your head falls back at the feeling. His breath is hot against your cock as you let out a string of incoherent moans. 

You’re fully hard by now, your cock resting against your stomach as Scaras’s breath fans over your member. It was already beginning to leak with arousal. You unintentionally squirm, your impatience showing as Scara’s hands run up and down your pelvis, but he avoids your cock, driving you crazy. 

He doesn’t make you wait too long before he takes your cock with his lips. He’s enthusiastic with the way he varies between kissing, licking, and sucking. The soft muscle of his tongue paired with the unforgiving metal feels otherworldly. He easily takes you all the way, and you want to watch him do so but the pleasure surges through you, causing your eyes to fall shut as you buck your hips up into him. He lets your cock fall out to drag his tongue down and across your slit.

“All for me, huh?” he murmurs, as he takes you again. He’s pushing your body up slightly, fitting himself to lay on his stomach and right between your legs. You sit with your head laying against the pillows as Scara makes some of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing his head between your legs drives your hand to rush forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, not brave enough to pull yet. You tug just a little, eliciting him to groan around cock. You can feel the metal stud and the vibrations run through you. And it’s heavenly. 

He gasps as he lifts his head, lips wet and pupils completely blown. He presses a kiss to the head of your cock before going back with even more vigor. He was wrapped around you and neither of you could get enough. 

It should be embarrassing, being this vulnerable in front of him when he’s the one you’ve tried so hard to never stumble in front of. But that feeling disintegrates when he presses a kiss to the head of your cock, and the only thing running through your head is how good he feels.

“Kuni, please,” you let out, your hands tangled in his hair. He pulls back to drag his tongue across the head, causing you to instinctively buck up your hips into him. 

“Fuck me,” he says, in between sucking your cock, “Fuck my throat.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. His hands come under your thighs, lifting them above his shoulder so he can get better access. You do as you're told and grind your cock into him, desperate for any friction as his throat closes around you. You feel your cock hitting the back of his throat. He groans into you, or maybe he’s talking, but you can’t tell because of how good you feel buried into him. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper out, eyes falling shut. The words seem to make him work faster, so you let them all tumble out of you. He always was one to work harder with praise. 

“Mm you’re so good at this,” you moan, pressing his head against your cock, “Taking it so well, don’t stop.”

He moans into you and you feel satisfied at making him feel good like this. It’s not just your words, you can see him grinding into the mattress beneath you as he sucks you off. He’s ignoring his own problem just to make you feel good, and you want nothing but to show him you can do it too.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hand caressing your waist as you buck your hips into his mouth. His voice is so soft, and it’s only for your ears. That was enough.

The orgasm hits you, and you’ve never felt anything like it before. Your eyes cloud with bliss as you ride it out on his tongue. Scara licks every drop that you release, holding your trembling thighs as you finish in him. When he pulls back and looks up at you, you can see remnants of your juice dripping down his chin. 

He crawls back up onto you, wasting no time as his lips find yours again. You taste yourself on him and let him swell your lips. He’s kissing you, and you're desperate to get him off, too.

“Kuni,” you mumble as his lips drag against your collar bone, “Let me. Let me help you.”

“You don’t have too,” he says, burying his face in your neck as you rake your fingers through his hair.

“I want to,” you say, practically begging. 

Scara pulls back, a different gaze in his eyes as he searches your face.

“Alright,” he says, pushing himself off you, and getting off you and sitting himself on the edge of the bed. You stood there, unsure if you were supposed to take anything else off. You’d never done anything like this before. 

“Leave it on,” Scara calls out, making the decision for you, “Come.”

Scara grabs a pillow and tossed it onto the floor. At your confused glance Scara fought back the urge to tease.

“For your knees,” he states, pushing you down by the shoulder. 

You settle yourself between his legs, as soon as you do Scara starts carding his fingers through your hair. His fingers find the back of your neck, swiftly unclasping your necklace.

“Won’t get in the way,” he murmurs, “Whenever you want to get started,” he adds, playing with the barbell in his mouth as you stare at the mound in his pants. Sensing your nervousness, he reaches over to grab your hand and places it by his waistband.

You tug his pants down, the lack of boxers causing his cock to spring up against his stomach. You reach out, grabbing it by the base and guiding Scara’s cock to your mouth. Scara’s hand caressed your scalp as the other one guided himself into you. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling lightheaded at the sensation. You didn’t quite know what you were doing, but you let yourself sink lower. You try to mimic what he did to you. Your tongue glides across his length as you taste his precum. You instinctively reach out to taste more, eliciting a small groan from Scara as your tongue slides against his slit.

Scara could feel your inexperience, with the way your teeth scraped against him, but he didn’t care. Seeing your pretty mouth take him like this was enough for him to finish into your mouth. You didn’t quite know how to swallow him, it was only when Scara tugged your hair that you looked up at him. You let go of his cock with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.  

“Do you want more?” Scara asks, it was taking everything in him to not let loose and fuck your throat. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to voice anything.

“Alright, take it then,” he says. He reaches over and pushes your head so his cock is back in your mouth, this time reaching the back of your throat. When you didn’t resist he pressed more, until your lips were at the base of his cock. Your hands were digging into his thighs to keep you steady, his hand on your head as he held you there for a few seconds. 

“Shit,” Scara moans, “I’m gonna fuck your throat now, okay?”

You can only moan around his length in response, already feeling yourself getting wet again.

“Tap me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, before thrusting into your mouth. 

Your mouth is full of him and you choke down on his cock. Scara’s hand is at the back of your head, and he’s trying to have some self control for your sake as you’re forced to swallow down his cock. 

You gag at the feeling of him stuffed so far down your throat. Scara tugs at your head, enough for you to grab a breath before you’re being smothered with his cock again. You drag your tongue across his length as he takes your mouth again, and you can hear his moans vibrate through you.

Over the years, you’ve heard Scara’s voice on countless tracks where he’s moaned and sang about sex. You’ve always found it distasteful, but now with your mouth around him you want nothing more than to hear him make sounds only you get to hear. 

“Not so mouthy now, are you,” Scara hums, and he hisses as you respond with your lips tight around the midpoint of his cock. 

You reach your hand up and grab ahold of the base of his cock, jerking him off as he fucks into you. Before you know it, Scara’s cock pulses against your tongue and his body tremors as he cums down your throat. There’s so much, and it fills your mouth before you can swallow and then it’s seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Scara continues to pump into you, his pace slow as you take what you can from him.

You retreat and watch as his cock continues to leak. Your knees are practically trembling as you force yourself to stand up. Scara grabs you by the waist and tugs you to change positions so you’re now straddling him. Your arms circle his neck before he’s kissing you again, cleaning his cum off you as you moan into his mouth. 

“Off,” you manage to gasp out. Scara takes the hint and pulls your sweater over your head, until you’re bare chested against him. He does the same, and you swallow at the ink trailing along his delicate body. 

He gently turns you over, pressing your back into the mattress as his lips move across you. His kisses are bruising, his tongue pushing past your lips and down to your nipples. There’s a sharp pain as he tugs at it, before his tongue sweeps over it again. He continues doing it over and over again until you’re digging your fingers into him, a shaking mess against him. 

You’re barely hanging on now, practically dripping beneath him once again, your cock against your stomach again and you want to feel him more than you already have. 

“Kuni,” you say breathily, “Fuck me.”

“You’re not gonna ask nicely?” he teases with the tone you’re usually used to with him, but there's something else laced underneath, something akin to concern.

“I’m sure,” you plead, “Please, just fuck me already.”

Scara abandons your chest to move a hand towards your lips. He opens them with his fingers, guiding you to suck. When he pulls back there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers as he moves it down to your hole. 

His lips are near your ear as drags his fingers down your chest and onto your stomach, before he’s teasing your inner thigh. Before you knew it he was pressing a slick finger into you, lips kissing your neck as you let out a moan. Your hands slide underneath the pillow behind your head, back arching at just one finger. Soon he added another, working a rhythm that had you gasping. You grind your hips up into his hand, arching your lower back to take more.

Scara responds by expertly angling his fingers down, hunting for your g-spot. The sounds that escaped your lips made it obvious when he found it. It was a breathy cry that sounded like you were begging, and he was desperate to hear it again, brushing his fingers against it over and over again. 

You were whining into the air and Scara was swallowing down his urges to fuck you against the bed right then. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. But no, he was going to take his time with you.

“Please,” you babbled, rocking your hips up, “Come on already, I want you.”

He couldn’t tease you any longer when you sounded so pretty begging for his cock. He pulls his fingers free, stroking himself with your wetness. 

“Shouldn’t I be on my front?” you question, your inexperience showing. The idea made you a little shy.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, “I want to see you.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment as he caresses your legs. 

“I want to see you enjoying my cock,” he adds, his hands finding your cock as he slowly jerks you off. Your eyes fall shut as he does so. After a few pumps he removes his hand you hear the crinkle of a condom packet. You wrinkle your nose at it without thinking. 

“I’ve never had anyone. Put it in without that.”

“Like you need to remind me,” Scara chuckles, “What about me? I have my results–.”

“I trust you.”

The words pierce through Scara. He tosses the condom aside.

You let out a moan of anticipation as Scara presses down on your hips, spreading your legs open for him. Steadily, and with all the care he could muster, Scara lined his cock up with your entrance. A part of you wanted to tell him to hurry along, but the bigger part of you was melting at the care behind every touch. 

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, your warm walls sucking him in even further. 

You gasp as this divine pleasure is finally inside of you. He gradually pushed himself inside of you, your eyes falling shut at being breached for the first time. He’s moving slow, too slow, and you know it’s because it’s your first time but fuck you need him to go faster. 

“Fuck, Yn,” Scara groaned, “You know how hard I used to get, right after we’d fight?” he adds as he’s caressing your hips as your head fell back, “And I’d have to go fuck someone else, with the thought of you in my head.” 

Your hole takes in every inch of him, eliciting a groan from the back of Scara’s throat. With how well he prepared you there isn’t too much pain, it just feels good. The more he slowly lets you sit with him inside you the more impatient you become. You’ve waited so long for this, for him. 

If you weren’t lying down you fear you would have collapsed, your thighs were shaking and legs weak with just his cock sitting inside of you. Scara moves his hands to your thighs, holding onto them for stability as his dick twitched inside your tight walls. He lets out a shuddered breath as he rocked his cock into you, leaning forward so you’re grinding against his pubic bone. 

“Kuni,” you gasp, rocking your hips back and forth, fingers threaded into his hair, “Please. Fuck me.”

“So needy,” he mumbles, dipping his face into your neck once again, “I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

You feel your body squirm underneath him impatiently, and you can feel his smirk against your skin at how desperate you were for him. A part of you knew he wasn’t holding back just to tease you, though.

He tilts his head up, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

And with that his hands settle on your hips, grabbing them as he starts to slam his cock up into you. 

“So tight for me,” you hear him groan between pants as you cry out loudly, the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. He manages to find your spot with ease, striking it over and over again as you become putty underneath him. You grind your hips up against him, matching his rhythm. 

“Mhm, Kuni,” you let out, breathless, in a daze as the pleasure soares through you. You wanted him. You wanted all of him. 

“Be good and jerk yourself off for me,” he murmurs. You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hand falling to your own cock and matching his rhythm. The pleasure from both was almost unbearable. 

You manage to open your eyes, cheeks flushed to see him looking just as taken out as you. His lips caught between his teeth as he thrusts into you, panting above you. It only makes you grow harder. He glances down and you follow his gaze. Watching his cock disappear into you, only to reappear covered in his wetness, and go back in. It makes you dizzy with how much more intensely you can feel him.  

“Kuni…,” you swallow, letting your hands trail his back. His skin was damp with sweat, and touching him just made you want him closer. You lift your hips and your legs to wrap around his waist, and he grabs onto your waist to fuck deeper into you. The change in angle feels good. You can feel your orgasm start to build.

Scara wasn’t religious, but he might as well be if making you cry out like this from beneath him was his form of worship. Your voice was behind some of the greatest songs, but even better when it was like this, a sound reserved just for him.

The strength of it almost knocks you out as pleasure you've never felt before rushes through your body. Crying out and grabbing onto whichever part of him u can reach first. Your nails dig into his back as he finishes inside you. 

The fullness you felt before is nothing compared to this. You cum onto your stomach and the feeling of it is never-ending. You’re so full you feel like you’re gonna explode. But your orgasm just seems to continue, almost like a wave after wave of it is surging through you. Your head is in such a daze you don’t even try to hold back any sound slipping through your mouth.

gender neutral ending

You don’t even notice the tears at the corner of your eyes until you feel the gentle touch of skin on your cheek as Scara wipes them away, slowing down as you both finish riding your orgasm out. 

His hands move to your hips as his lips ghost your cheek. “Rest,” he commands softly, “I’ll clean you up.”

You’re not even in the headspace to protest. You’re completely blissed out, feeling like you could fall asleep right there underneath him. But you fight to stay awake as your eyes fall shut, focusing on the touches of him. At how he slowly pulls out of you, and you can feel his cum slip out of you. The gentle touch as he lifts your hips to move you. Or how he grabs his pants and slides them onto you as he cleans you off. And the necklace he took off of you, because of how it got in the way, and how he gently clasped it around your neck once more. But he never pulls away from you, always one hand on you as he moves around. 

The passion from early is replaced with a Scara, a Kuni, you’ve never seen before. After a while he shifts you both to the side, to where you can rest your head on his arm as his other palm draws circles in your hips. You let your eyes finally open, met with his boring right back into you. If you weren’t sober before you definitely were now. Before you can say anything he leans forward to give you a chaste kiss, before moving his lips down to your neck. You let yourself slot into him, like you were always meant to be there.

“Kuni,” you whisper, a string of questions at the tip of your tongue, all related to what you both were. 

Instead you find yourself asking, “Was I good?”

“So good,” he murmurs, his voice piercing through you as he’s right by his ear, “Talk tomorrow,” he adds, his lips pressed against your neck, as if he can feel your questions. You want to protest, but your body falls into him. His warm breath on your neck and his hair tickling you as you let your eyes fall shut. 

You’ll let yourself enjoy this one night. Maybe the questions were best left unanswered, because it might mean you wouldn’t get to hold him like this ever again.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

tldr: they redid their first kiss and yn lost their virginity to scara hashtag freaky

if u see any typos pls lmk 😭 i wanna make sure each version is for their own gender

sorry in advance for cluttering my feed, the read more option doesn’t work for me sometimes sooo, also no interview for this one since it’s sorta a bonus chapter

see it wasn’t too quick, trust ur alpha ! 🐺

if anyone dislikes scaras being a top in this erm look away then and don’t attack me! also i like how this lowk implies scara just carries a condom around cus where did he get that

also yn has hair in this au help sawry if ur bald

also refer to this chapter to see the dorm map, delusion has two extra rooms they don’t use! my original plan was to have them just do it under the covers but this is better xx

i never rlly write smut so pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed this 😖

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — fun fact i sent this smut to my friend and she tried it out with her bf and he moaned like a bitch so it works!! satisfaction guaranteed!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @webbywill @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

I am obsessed with soulmate characters. There is no (light) without (dark) there is no (sun) without (rain) there is no (day) without (night) there is no (joy) without (anger) there is no (red) without (green) there is no (love) without (hate) there is no (defense) without (offense) there is no (tide) without (moon) and these characters can be love interests, best friends, enemies, rivals, I DON'T CARE, but they understand each other like no one else does and where one goes the other follows

And this isn't about just grumpy x sunshine this is about one existing without the other. Characters where if you take one away a part of them gets taken with the other, characters whose lives are significantly altered by the absence of the other, characters who literally already do find each other in different universes.

what an arc

i care So Much about both of them

This one gets its own post because i still like it

rotating them in my brain

My biggest fear is probably my parents finding out about my obsession with gay ships of any kind

is it so bad

to live without your light?

Taking a dip 🏊🌊

something something every fucking day i learn something new about this stupid ass gay boy and each time it sends me into a homophobic rage. HELP ME. HELP-

Anime characters be like:

HXH sketch dump

this is my fav anime of all time btw i forgor to post my drawings here

Why do the "let dudes be friends" ppl only ever say that about the gayest motherfuckers who have ever walked the earth??? So many good examples and good representation of dudes being pals, but you have to say this shit about the two men who stare at each other's lips for a living and clearly dream about each other at night???

The push and pull of “relationships can be very affectionate and still be platonic” and “those are the gayest motherfuckers I’ve ever seen”.

killugon is the middle school friendship that made you realize you were gay.

leopika is the situationship that made you realize it’s time to seek mood stabilizers.

Send post.

Aw hell

cupid's stolen quill • scaramouche x fem!reader

IN WHICH Scaramouche suspects something is wrong with his unyielding admirer's poems, only to discover they were stolen by pure coincidence on Valentine's Day. Sending an email to the owner of the poems sounded like the right choice when he learnt the thief and the poet were friends as well(that's an excuse, he actually liked the poems and wanted to talk to you). But it seems it's even more complicated than that.

warnings: curse words, panic attacks, traumatic experiences, reader kinda liked a girl once(she actually didn't, but it's implied as she did. really complicated, lol), homophobia, bullying.

started : 14/02/25

updates : incostintent

welcome to "cupid's stolen quill"! i am actually a little bit nervous since it's not only my first series but also the first time i posted something here, too. it's based on real-life events unfortunately, writing is my coping mechanism (,:

it contains a little bit smau for the plot

MASTERLIST:

prologue: pros(e)&cons

chapter 1: poetential crisis

chapter 2: metapoetically screwed

chapter 3: tba

chapter 4: tba

golden ✨

“bless you-”

bless?? as in 🙏BLESS🙏??? nso reference????

the different side of a coin

YOUR ex is a piece of shit—just getting it out of the way—so when he, out of the nowehere, wanted to break up with you, you would’ve been ecstatic! except you weren’t, seeing how you were convinced he was the love of your life or whatever. now coping and realizing how tired you were having to carry every conversation and crying every night he doesn’t text you back, you get your life together perfectly fine. years later, you fall in love with an artist—someone who understands you more than you yourself; and someone you’d never thought you’d hear from again.

tags: ex/artist scaramouche x gn reader, exes to lovers warnings: slight angst (not really), they both still like each other but idk, status: starting…. idk — written chapters will have a 🎸

prologue: he was so nice before. 🎸

0.1: the way things go

1. coping is making me rich — 2. popularity

3. eargasm — 4. attached to a song

5. favoritism — 6. obliviously in love

7. over him — 8. i see you

9. get out of my head — 10. crash out 🎸

11. marinette dupain-cheng — 12. liar

13. don’t hate me — 14. nosy

15. surprise! 🎸

0.2: you’re here. that’s the thing

16. call me back — 17. you know.

18. the waiting game — 19. disappointed.

20. you look the same. 🎸 — 21. i think i’m ready

22. paparazzi — 23. tba…

0.3: pictures of us (bonus chapters)

1. tba…

erhm…. hey guys 😁 how are we liking it here? very preppy!!! 😻

ill post the prolouge idk next week so be there or be square!

taglist: @liuaneee, @axquella , @kunikuni1819 , @quiechee , @ kunikissr , @jinjjjia , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @mywillt0live , @sunnylyly, @ilovecats-26, @scaraenthusiast1, @akarisuzuk1, @mechanicalbeat1, @raytoebiter, @kunikuzushis-darling