#sub smut

"mngh, fuck—p- please, i'm sorry..." you could spot the tears that welled up in his eyes, instinctively on every time you bounced down all the way down onto the base of his cock. "hnngh, shit wait! s-stop, i'm.... whaaa—close again!"

his eyes fluster shut with his wings covering his eyes to replace what his hands could've done for himself. oh the justice your hips did, your hand felt amazing, but not as warm as your walls were around his length.

you could see how his fists were clammed shut as they were raised above his head, but as soon as your arms decide to place themselves around his neck, quietly tugging at his silverlocks, effectively make him reach his own peak again.

his face fell flushed once more when he let out a choked moan of your name, or whatever he could muster up. lifting your hips up, and off of his dick for a moment to see how all of his length was completely covered in the mix of your slick and his load, shining obscenely before the both of you.

the tip was flushed an angry pink fading to red, his slit alread yweeping another small yet steady stream of precum all ready for you. your cold finger start to envelop his length once more, your free hand reaches out to rub against a wing that covered his eye. "mmmf... please m- mommy, i jus' came..." trying to flap your hand away, you simply slide yourself to his side, placing your head in the crook of his neck, smiling sweetly,

your palm slowly starts to stroke his shaft again, making him squirm on the spot. his voice cracks, "nnhh- holy... i c- can't, i really can't—please, there's nothing left...!"

you get up from your spot to sit up properly, hand still on his cock but your free hand moved to stroke his wing in unison. "gghhn- t'much! please-" — "then use the word, baby, i don't wanna force you."

...

Scaramouche sat on the couch, his arms crossed, irritation written all over his face. He refused to look at you, his jaw clenched, shoulders tense.

The day’s been rough to him, just like any other day. The endless pressure, the sharp-tongued arguments, the weight of expectations pressing down on him—it was all too much. The last thing the harbinger wanted to do was deal with the likes of you.

“You’re impossible,” you sighed, stepping closer. “You’re all wound up, and you won’t do anything about it.”

His eyes flicked to you, sharp and unamused. “And you just can’t help yourself, can you? Always meddling.”

You scoffed, arms crossing to mirror his posture. “Meddling? You’re miserable, and I’m offering to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he snapped, rolling his eyes. “I’ve handled worse days without you hovering.”

“Oh, so you admit it’s a bad day.” You smirked at his frown. “Would it kill you to let someone take care of you for once?”

His glare sharpened. “You’re delusional if you think I’m going to just sit here and let you—”

“Let me what?” You stepped closer, leaning down, challenging him. “Touch you? Make you feel good?”

His lips parted, but no words came out. A hint of color dusted his cheeks, though his defiance didn’t waver. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re stubborn.” You tilted your head, lowering yourself in front of him. “But I know you want this.”

His hands twitched, hovering over his seat, his breath a little unsteady. “Tch. If you’re going to do something, do it properly.”

You rolled your eyes, hands traveling to his crossed legs, prying them apart. Scaramouche watched with reluctant interest, his finger tapping rhythmically on the armrest.

You made quick work of untying the sash at his waist, tugging at the fabric of his shorts. They slipped down easily, pooling around his thighs—but the moment you reached for the tight leggings underneath, you let out an exaggerated sigh.

“No wonder you’re stressed all the time,” you muttered, tugging at the clinging material. “You wear way too much shit.”

Scaramouche scoffed, glaring down at you. “Don’t insult my fashion, you imbecile—” His words cut off into a sharp inhale as you tugged the leggings down in one smooth motion, a little rougher than necessary.

In the same instant, his hardening cock slapped against your cheek. Scaramouche’s entire body tensed, his breath catching in his throat. His fingers twitched, his glare sharp enough to kill. But he said nothing.

You, on the other hand, slowly blinked before a smug grin curled on your lips.

“See?” You tilted your head, voice dripping with amusement. “You need this badly,” you leaned in, one hand wrapping around his shaft as the other stayed on his thigh.

You pressed a lingering kiss against the tip, slow and deliberate, watching as Scaramouche’s gulped. His breath hitched—barely, but you caught it.

Then, just to be cruel, you dragged your tongue along the underside at an agonizing pace, tracing every little twitch, every little shift of his hips as he tried not to react.

His breath came uneven now, chest rising and falling in shallow, irritated exhales. His fingers twitched again—this time moving to your hair, not quite gripping, but the warning was there.

“EnounMF!”

His words dissolved into a gasp as you finally took him in, all at once, no more teasing. His head snapped back against the couch, fingers digging into your scalp as a ragged breath left his lips. For a moment, all that arrogance, all that restraint, vanished.

You barely had time to smirk before his grip tightened, hips shifting forward as if testing just how much you’d let him take. His lips parted, and then, just like that, he was back—composure slipping back into place, though it wavered at the edges.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, though his voice was weaker than before, his fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer or let you work.

His lashes fluttered, breath coming heavier, but his attitude remained intact. “Slower,” he ordered, his voice wavering slightly. Then, a sharp intake of breath. “No—faster.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Make up your mind.”

His nails dug into your skin as he let out something close to a whimper, quickly masked by a haughty scoff. “You should be grateful I’m letting you do this at all.”

You leaned in, lips brushing the forming precum. “Oh, you’re letting me?”

Scaramouche shivered, tilting his head back against the couch, his smirk faltering as pleasure overtook his composure. “Shut up and keep going.”

And who were you to deny him?

His thighs trembled beneath your hands, tension coiling tight, but even now, he refused to give up control. His fingers curled in your hair, not pulling—yet—but firm enough to remind you who was really in charge here.

“Ohmnn–” The sound slipped before he could bite it back, sharp and breathy, but he recovered fast. His grip tightened, pressing you closer, guiding rather than forcing.

You smirked against him. “Getting impatient?”

His response was immediate—a quick tug at your hair, just enough to make you wince. “Less talking, more suckingh–!” he bit out, his voice unsteady but still dripping with arrogance.

His grip in your hair suddenly tightened, yanking you down with zero warning. “gHLK–!?” Your throat clenched around his length as a choked, muffled gag escaped, your hands scrambling against his thighs.

A sharp inhale from above—then a quiet, breathless chuckle. “Oh? Too much?”

Your eyes watered as you tried to pull back, but his fingers only tightened, keeping you there just a moment longer, just until your body trembled with the effort to breathe.

Then, finally, he eased up, just enough for you to gasp, drool spilling down your chin as you inhaled sharply.

Your glare burned into him, but just as you went all out—taking him deep, fast, relentless—his hand tightened in your hair, yanking you back just enough to make you stop in your tracks.

A breathless, shaky laugh left him. “Getting bold, aren’t you?” His voice wavered, but the authority was still there. “I don’t remember telling you to do that.”

Even as his thighs trembled, as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, he still forced your pace, guiding you back down—but slower this time, dragging it out, making sure you obeyed him.

“Try that again,” he murmured, breath hitching, “and I’ll make sure you really struggle to breathe.”

You would have argued back if your mouth weren’t too preoccupied with his dick. The wet, obscene sounds echoed in the space between you, each lewd noise only spurring Scaramouche on further.

Once again, he pushes you down, forcing you to take his length in one go. “Mmhnn..! So warm..” His legs trembled against your shoulders, it’s almost like the harbinger wants to wrap them around your head and never let go.

You blinked away the tears that formed the longer you stayed in that position. His cock throbbed deep inside, pushed to the back of your throat. “Mpph– hgKhh–!” You’d gag before he allowed you to pull back and catch your breath, only to push you right back into the same motions.

When you looked up at him, you were almost surprised—despite how demanding he'd been, Scaramouche looked more debauched than ever.

His glare has softened to half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly agape with drool forming on the corners. “What’s with that look?” The Balladeer cuts through your thoughts, his fingers tightening around the strands of hair.

He didn’t look away though, and neither did you. The eye contact made everything else intimate, if you’d ignore the way he’s been roughly handling you.

As the two of you stared at each other, you continued with your ministrations. Your saliva has mixed with his precum already, creating a salty yet uniquely Scaramouche taste.. if that even made sense to your taste buds.

The harbinger’s breathing starts to get heavier, his grip faltering. “Fuck. I can’t take this anymore,” he hissed. “Make me cum already.”

The tension in his body was unmistakable, every muscle coiled as he sought the release he’d been denying himself. Though he commanded you, it felt as if there was no choice left for you to make.

His breath quickened, and his hand tightened in your hair as he started to move his hips, thrusting with a desperation that gave you no chance to resist. His free hand moved to the side of your face as if guiding your head wasn’t enough.

“Faster–ah!♡♡–damn it,” Scaramouche’s voice broke, each word laced with frustration as his hips started to move on their own. “I can’thngh♡—don't you dare stop..!”

Scaramouche’s cock thrusted in and out of your mouth with ease, but it was no longer a show of dominance—it was desperate, borderline needy. His movements lost their rhythm, hips jerking erratically as if he couldn’t decide between restraint and indulgence.

Your head bobbed in time with his hips, forcing you to fight off your gag reflex. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on breathing through your nose.

His hand threaded through your hair, pulling you closer with a low groan. “Please, don’t stop... don’t mm♡♡fucking stop,” he gasped, the edge of his command faltering into something more unhinged.

“I’m close–” he whines, “Soclosesoclosee!♡” And then, in one swift motion, it was over. Scaramouche’s release came crashing down, spilling over your lips, your mouth, the warmth overwhelming you.

He cried out as his hips jerked, his fingers digging into your scalp, holding you firmly in place. His chest heaved as he stilled, back arching towards your face.

Your mouth worked overtime, dragging out the harbinger’s pleasure as you had no choice but to endure the aftermath of his release. Each movement sent another shudder through his body, his grip tightening, his breath hitching with every twitch.

The pleasure crashed into him like a tidal wave, leaving him gasping as stars burst behind his eyelids, his vision going hazy. His eyes rolled back, lips parting in a silent cry, as if Celestia itself had momentarily pulled him into its grasp.

His grip finally loosened, and he slumped back against the couch, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. A shudder ran through his body as he tried to compose himself.

You slowly pulled his softening cock out, careful not to overstimulate the man. Luckily for him, you had swallowed down all his essence—not like you had a choice when he came straight down to your throat.

For a moment, there was only silence—except for the heavy sound of his breathing and the wet slickness on your skin. You joined him on the couch, his head abruptly falling to your shoulder just in time.

“Stay,” he murmured, still catching his breath.

You huffed a quiet laugh, wiping your lips. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

He whimpers

I mean so much, all night it's just him whimpering and begging for his mommy

“Mommy please touch me, I need you”

Biggest munch ever, he gets so pussy drunk to it's not even funny

He's a crier

You can’t convince me otherwise, we will ball his eyes out after he cums. Especially if you edge him and finally let him cum. He’ll even thank you after with tears rolling down his face. 

“Thank you mommy, thank you so much” 

I just know this man is a perv. He steals your panties and thinks you don’t notice but it's kinda obvious when he leaves them in his room just out in the open. 

He really likes being overstimulated 

Just the thought that you love him so much that you would spend hours making him cum over and over again drives him crazy. He would also cry during this. Both from pleasure and pain, poor boy doesn't want you to stop but his body needs a break. 

“please don’t stop, I need it so bad”

As you can tell he has a mommy kink

the kinks written in this masterlist may be considered graphic or extreme for some audiences. please be advised.

this may or may not include mythical species / monsterfucking (vampires, lycanthrope, ghosts, etc), bondage, aphrodisiac / drugging, somnophilia, unhealthy obsession, blood (no gore), impact play, etc.

in all works, each party explicitly verbalizes their concent and is aware they are consenting. in the case of established relationships, it is to be interpreted that the couple has mutually agreed to anything beforehand (ex. somnophilia, aphrodisiac, etc). and is aware and okay with what their partner is doing. safewords are present, consent is key.

this masterlist will also be multifandom to reach more audiences and test my comfortability writing for new media.

as always, minors, do not interact with any of my works or me in general. this blog contains mature content.

thank you for choosing whorror airlines. ✈️

OCTOBER 2. gojo satoru

your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.

bratty! first time sub! gojo, overstim, dacryphilia, anal penetration & fingering, hair pulling, dumbification

OCTOBER 6. rengoku kyojurou

when a clueless hashira wanders into your layer of operations, you can’t help but put up a fight— and admire his fat tits through the inconvenient tear in his uniform you inflict.

demon! reader, masochist? rengoku, feminization, body worship, praise, nipple play, impact play

OCTOBER 9/10. armin arlert

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

vampire! parent! reader, babysitter! armin, blood kink, blood sucking, slight pain kink, handjob

OCTOBER 13. vi (league / arcane)

after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.

afab! reader, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation

BREAK. OCTOBER 15 — 21.

OCTOBER 23. kaeya alberich

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship

OCTOBER 27. simon “ghost” riley

you and your partner ghost have to train on how to get out of hostage situations. luckily for you, you’re good at tying knots.

sadist! reader, masochist! ghost, bondage, temperature/wax play, suggestive

Needless to say, you’ve never been so horny and hoped you could continue what you started when you got home.

Vernon tried his best to get his mind off his hard-on, feeling conflicted about what he just experienced. Between attempting to write, watching movies and eating, his mind still wandered back to replay the words you whispered in his ear.

{ “you’re mine” }

Giving him goosebumps every time.

Finally, all paperwork was done and you slung your bag over your shoulder, striding out the door and hopping in your car.

You had subconsciously driven 15 over the entire way, keen to get home.

You fumbled your keys into the lock, sliding the door open, cautiously slow as if you were expecting something to jump out.

Vernon stood up swiftly but quickly sat back down, not wanting to seem overly enthusiastic that you were finally home.

You weren’t sure why but your stomach immediately burst into nervous butterflies, dropping your bag and keys onto the side table. Noticing his lack of attention, you went to grab a glass of water.

“Welcome home babe” he swallowed, lifting himself off the couch and over to you.

His arm reaching out for your waist to pull you towards him, as he usually would when you got home.

Not until the last second did you grab his wrist, arms outstretched, away from your side.

Both of you looked at each other with widened eyes, neither one was sure where to go from this point and also surprised at your reaction.

Your chest tightening and utterly confused on what to do, you took your other hand, placing it on his hip, guiding him back to the fridge.

“We’re you good for be baby?”

You were slightly embarrassed, still settling into this foreign dom space

He swallowed hard, nodding his head.

“Use your words, baby boy”

He immediately squeaked, trying not to smile. After hearing his reaction, you bowed your head trying not to show your own amusement with the name. This could be fun.

Collecting yourself the best you could, before looking back at him.

“I won’t tolerate being ignored” a firm hand on his jaw

“y-yes I was good”

You softened your grasp, leaning onto the balls of your feet towards him and pressing your lips to his, tugging at the seam of his shirt.

Vernon pulled away from you, his cheeks slightly blushed.

“Actually babe, c-can we eat first?”

You snickered at the seriousness of his tone, but such a simple question.

Lowering yourself back flat on your feet,

“Yeah of course! You sound like I’m gonna be mad if you ask”

“You’re just intimidating when you’re like this, that’s all” He lets out a nervous chuckle, sliding off the fridge door.

Blushing slightly, unsure if you were flattered by his comment, you clicked open the fridge door. Empty.

“Well looks like we’re ordering, what do you want?”

“Something with noodles”

Your teeth gripped harshly around your lip

*use your manners....bunny?*

Playing over in your head a name you could call him, baby boy seemed too lax.

You smirked at your own thoughts, picking up the phone and ordering Pho.

Slumped on the couch scrolling through a movie list, waiting for the food.

The more you thought about the entire situation, the more anxious you felt, but there was an underlying thrill you felt about it.

Vernon stepped out of the washroom just all the doorbell rang, reaching out to open the door and expect the food.

“Ahhh finally I’m soooo hungry” easing off the couch and towards the kitchen island.

It wasn’t long before both of you had cleaned your dishes to the last sliced carrot. Cleaning up and flopping back onto the couch, Vernon following your suit.

You had abandoned the movie and were 3 episodes deep into a show you started together. You were glued to it, but Vernon couldn’t be more distracted. He kept glancing over at you over the course of the current episode, hoping you’d glance back.

The credits began to roll, his hand wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers reaching down to your shoulder and brushing against your skin.

Being probably the most ticklish person on the earth, you shot him a lookout of the corner of your eye. He might as well be tattooed saying ‘fuck me!’ across his forehead.

You immediately felt the sexual tension around him, cursing at yourself that you were so immersed in the show.

Your body shot up in a tingling sensation. Looking at you still, he saw your eyes grow darker if that was even possible from the already dim lights.

Shifting your weight and kneeling on one leg, you pressed your hand on his chest insinuating you wanted him to lie down. You followed him as he slid down the couch. You were still very aware of your surroundings, but you felt some strange persona take over.

His lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes racing all over your face unable to tell what you were thinking.

Rolling your tongue over the ridges of your teeth, the anxiousness you felt earlier was no longer present.

Leaning down, an intense make-out taking over the empty moment. Grazing your lips over his cheek, sucking at the hot skin of his neck, leaving red marks down his neck that will only become more evident and purple the next morning.

Your hands slide underneath his grey t-shirt, hands shifting across his torso and grazing his nipples.

He tried to keep his whimper in, fortunately for you, he was unsuccessful. Moving your mouth back up to his face, your hands glide back over the small tips. Not bothering to hold back the sounds, muffled by your tongue running over his.

You ended up in the same position as before, but now his hands locked to the bedpost, tugging at his restraints.

Peppering kisses over his chest, letting your tongue graze over his nipples. He closed his eyes, a shiver running across his skin.

His clothes had been lost at some point in the process, having also lost your shirt, leaving you in your pants. His hesitance vanished, allowing himself to accept the submissive position he had been placed in.

Your legs were thrown over one of his thighs, your fingers grazing over his legs up to the centre of his stomach causing his stomach to clench. You slipped off the bed and went over to your dresser.

Restraints and blindfolds weren’t new to either of you, only you were normally the one in them.

Slipping out a wide strip of black silky ribbon, unsure about using anything else, but picking out plug you hadn’t seen before. Vernon obviously had other intentions for it, not expecting the first use to be on himself.

You turned around closing the drawer with your shoulder.

Positioning yourself back to your previous spot, dragging the metal toy across his stomach. He looked down at what was in your hand, eyes shooting right back up to yours, his face flushed and nervous.

“Only if you’re okay with it ‘sol” softening your expression in hopes of calming his nerves.

“I mean-” he paused

his chest dropped, letting out his breath, “L-Lets try it?” still apprehensive but trying to convince himself.

Nodding your head “we can stop anytime baby, just tell me. “Give me a safe word”

“I’ll use the same ones you do”

Your words evidently reassuring him, his head bobbed. You reached the ribbon around his head, tying it semi firmly, laying back to admire him. Of course, you forgot the lube, rushing back over the dresser to grab the bottle.

“Y/N?”

“I’m still here baby boy” it was almost cute how nervous he was, making you silently giggle.

The bed sunk as you kneeled between his ankles, pushing them slightly apart.

This scenario had occurred once or twice in your head but never would you think it would be happening. You grabbed the hough of his legs, bending them over your hands. He hasn’t made a peep, but his expression was calm, glancing up to him every so often. Opening the lube bottle and dropping a small amount onto a few of your fingers. You crawled up between his legs and up so your face was above his, propping yourself up with arm as the other made it’s way down. Dragging your fingers over his tip then down to the base, applying more pressure as you grazed over his taint. He released a shaky breath, fists clenching. If only you could be him, his body rushing with anxious tingles and butterflies fill the pit of his stomach. A buzz was radiating off him, and you could feel it, it only making you that much more eager. Gently moving, teasing at him before slipping one finger in. His breath hitched, holding yourself in that position before slowly moving in and out. His hands form a death grip around his own palms, a couple whimpered curses leave his lips.

You were trying your best to take your time but it wasn’t long before three of your finger slipped in him, his head lulled back, clear that the stretch was no longer affecting him.

Your pace quickened and your lips came down to meet him, obviously distracted as he barely responded back to you.

You curled your fingers in search of his prostate. The chains of the cuffs clinked as the stiffened against the post, pushing in the spot you just had, you smirked, feeling pleased with yourself.

Being the man he was, releasing onto an already dirty t-shirt or literally into a sock was not new to you. Which is why the shirt on the floor, clearly not new, caught your attention on the otherwise clean room. Your face grew hot out of embarrassment, but also annoyance that he didn’t follow the one rule you gave him.

You pulled your fingers out abruptly, causing him to flinch. Washing your hands and coming back to sit on his stomach. You lifted his blindfold, sliding your hand down to grasp his jaw. He looked very unsure, your eyes dark, but no longer with thrill and lust.

“did you disobey me baby?” sternness coating your voice.

He remained unresponsive, trying to avoid any direct eye contact

“oh I see, going to be a brat are we?” shifting yourself off him.

“I-” you interrupted him,

“I thought you had been good for me, baby boy, I was going to give you what you wanted tonight”

his throat bulged as he swallowed

“I’m sorry Y/N”

“You call me Ma’am from now on understand?” fiddling with the metal plug in your hands.

Vernon nodded his head, face flushed red.

“I need to hear you say it”

“Yes Ma’am”

It felt like you were switching between different moods every few minutes. You weren’t only horny, but disappointed, and excited about the things you were going to get to do.

After smoothing lube over the plug, you position yourself between his legs, still bent from a moment ago. His face scrunched up as the first ball slid in, trying your best to keep composure, your stomach tensing you from seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

The second one in and his hips pull away. Your hand grasps the crook of his hip and yank him back. You weren’t the strongest person especially against Vernon, but he slid right back towards you.

“Okay?”

His breathing increased and managed to nod his head.

“Just relax baby”

Third and fourth in at once, he gasped and his hands fell heavy on the restraints. Goosebumps covered his legs and arms.

Teasing him to get him used to the toy, you tried to distract with peppering kisses across his neck and lips. His dick had become hard the minute you put the plug in, but now it was really erect, pressing lightly up against your zipper.

You shuddered at the thought of just saying fuck it, ripping off your pants and riding him. No, you were this far in it would be a shame to stop.

It wasn’t long before a set of whimpers were let out, his head pushed into the pillow below him. Leaning back and taking your hand off the plug, leaving it in. Regardless of the fact he had a blindfold on, he lifted his head up as if to say ‘what the fuck?’

“Did you forget you were a naughty boy today?”

He lowered his head and let out a whimpered sigh. You smacked his stomach and gripped his chin,

“You did this to yourself, baby boy. Now flip over for me”

Vernon did so promptly, wrists resting on a railing of the bedpost.

It genuinely was a pretty sight, maybe admiring too long, Vernon’s legs shifting so he was resting in his heels.

“Sit up” you demand in a cold tone.

Moving up against his ass, your hands covering the skin of his sides and back and moving down his thighs. Your hand drifting over his length, his hips buck.

“ohhh you’re so sensitive baby” chuckling as you bring your fingers to circle over the swollen tip causing him to twitch in your hold.

A soft groan leaves his lips and your hands gripping him lightly.

All kinds of sounds were coming out of him as you stroke, increasing the tightness of your grip.

You almost forgot he had a butt plug in, glancing down to find the base and covering it with the pad of your thumb.

You push the base up and down, causing it to shift slightly in him.

His moans choked, head dropping.

You didn’t stop your ministrations, if anything his groans made you increase the speed and pressure around his cock. He shifted himself so he could grasp the bar he had been leaning on.

“Are you close? Tell me when you’re gonna come okay?”

He nodded his head and hisses out.

“ I-I’m gonna come”

Your hand drops from his cock abruptly, and you slip out the plug.

Whining out, you didn’t even hear what he said, it just sounded like fussy gibberish.

Setting the plug to the side, you ran your hand through his hair, nudging his side to flip back over.

His face was visibly flushed, and you couldn’t help but smile at how worked up he had gotten.

“mmm-ma’am?” He stuttered out

“Yes Vernon”

before he even got a chance to say anything, you slid your fingers back into him. He choked out, turning his head to hide them behind his arms.

“mmm, my baby boy sounds so good”

The corners of his mouth twitch, his cheeks blushing out of embarrassment but clearly welcomed the praise.

His breathing quickened and his knuckles were white.

You slowed yourself down, giving himself a chance to catch his lost breath, but didn’t hesitate to hastily continue once he had. His length was stiff and red, you were sure he’d blow at any moment.

“shit sh-shit, I’m gonna come” his voice husky from constant groaning.

His hips buckled forward, breath hitched. His cock twitched and you didn’t let up on hitting his prostrate, not until he forcefully yanked on the cuffs and let out a cry from overstimulation.

You get up to wash your hands and he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“sooo— do I get to finish?” he trails off, reluctant to even ask.

“Are you not happy with what I gave you baby boy?”

Silence.

You had gotten back from the washroom, resting your hand on his cheek, his body jolts at the unexpected change in distance.

“answer me baby” a now firmer hold on his face

“n-no ma’am”

His cock was still semi-hard, it was a struggle to make him wait, edging him was fun but getting him off might be better.

You straddled his waist, your hands cross his chest before landing over his nipples; lightly pinching them between your fingers. His mewls are soon muffled as your tongue slips into his mouth. You genuinely couldn’t wait any longer, lifting your hips up and grasping his length with your hand.

“Do you want to come baby boy?”

Sitting back above his knees, your pace started intensely.

His face scrunched up under his blindfold

“Ma’am i-it hurts” he hisses out

“Don’t worry baby, give it a minute”

You move your other hand down to fondle his balls, his teeth gritted and his breath seethed.

“now why should I let you come, have you learned your lesson baby boy”

It was obvious this whole experience of sensations was overwhelming, Vernon struggles to form coherent words.

“Ple-ease ma’am”

“Please what sol’”

“I want t-to come, I’ll be good” he stuttered out

you scoffed out, figuring you teased him enough.

His legs starting to twitch next to yours, you lean down and drag your tongue around the tip. Hot breathe guiding over him.

“fuu-uck” choked up at the sudden stimulation.

It was absolute torture for him to not be able to watch what you were doing.

“Can I... can I come?”

you hummed out in approval

“Good boy for asking, go ahead”

Moving your head out of the way just in time, strings of white shot out across his stomach and drooling onto your hand.

You kept your pace, and his hands yank out on the cuffs. Taking your hands off and wiping it off on the shirt on the floor. The pace of his breathing was still quick, and a smile had spread across his face.

“ thank you, ma’am”

“So well behaved already, I guess punishment works hmm”

You undid the cuffs and slid off his blindfold.

Vernon glanced down at his stomach as he shifted himself up, slight disgust as he got up to clean himself off.

Grabbing his arm before he walked off,

“Let me do it baby” Your stomach blew up butterfly’s and your face went hot. You tried to hide the smile, tensing your lips.

Your hand reaches up to stroke his hair, before glancing down at the substance which was now on his thigh.

A slight giggle and a tug on his arm before you had a warm cloth in hand and him sitting down, his face flushed pink.

“So...was that okay?

He tries to avoid eye contact but the raise in the corner of his mouth and the redness in his cheeks gave a clear answer.

You went to grab him a glass of water as he got comfortable in a clean bed.

Taking a big gulp from the glass, choking out the water as a familiar hand slid across your shoulder.

“Get back in bed I’ll be there in a minute” recovering from the intrusion of liquid down your esophagus.

“But- you didn’t really get to...you know” he shyly stated.

“Vernon I’ll be fine, maybe next time” you grin at the fact he seemed to care, but your cheeks became red at the sudden thoughts of what next time might be. Leaving him in the kitchen once again as you headed to the bedroom. His tongue brushed the inside of his cheek, his face no longer carrying the innocent expression he had only moments ago.

@spnningtop

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.