#that's what makes her so freaking interesting to begin with!!!!!! like. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teeskz · 22 days

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Freak: “You never been with no one as nasty as me.”

:･ﾟ✧ second part to ¡Arriba! and continuation of T!TS UP ✧*: *:･ﾟ-

» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)

» summary: what happens when you wake up the next morning in a dorm that’s not your own? and what happened the night before?

check out pt.1 here!

» w.c: 7.7k

» genres & warnings: college au, corruption kink, degradation yet praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), humping, major tit play, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, needy!ateez, handjob, mouthfucking blowjob, tit job, anal (i had to), dirty talk, teasing, reader opposes the idea but quickly gets on board, brief mention of professor!seonghwa, multi.stimulants, evil.

*disclaimer: reader is fed pills for a headache, but takes them unknowingly. do not consume anything if you are not aware of its origins*

» a/n: someone had referred to the boys as ‘evil’ and i RAN with that. yeah, they’re pretty mean- well kinda, but it makes things interesting. also, it only took me 18 days to upload 💪

enjoy!

» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaxox @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @writtersthings @mingisprincess @strayskz143 @isabel-018

if your name is crossed, i couldn’t find you 🫶

Your eyes crack open, the new incoming light from above blinding you, and slowly you begin to grow more conscientious. Instantly, you draw notice to your position on the hard floor, back to the ground, head tilted, and arms bent near your face.

For some reason, there's a slight pounding in your head, one that you're not quite familiar with and it genuinely makes you uncomfortable. The thumping grows as you start to wriggle your head around while you wish for it stop. And just as quickly as you had opened your eyes, you’re immediately closing them.

Wha....what happened last night?

Feeling your chest heave up and down, you try to recall the events of the previous night. You remembered getting a late breakfast/early lunch with your roommate, stopping by the library to check out a book, tidying up the room, then spending the rest of the evening catching up on homework.

But, then I got hungry.

Right, and so you’d went to the vending machine on the west side of the hall, where you ran into….Kim Hongjoong. He took you back to…to someone’s dorm and you hung out with his friends.

Then what after that?

“Look at her…” A voice murmurs and it breaks your thoughts. He’s close to your feet, you could tell, and immediately you’re on alert. Had you fallen asleep in the friend’s dorm?

“I’m still not over it, how can someone’s tits be so perfect? I mean, look at ‘em.” Another nearly groans which unexpectedly sends your stomach into a frenzy. Initially you hadn’t realized, but now you do register the cool breeze you’re feeling, sweeping across your bare breasts.

What the hell? Am I…shirtless?

“Who cleaned her stomach?” There’s a bit of muttering off in a distance before whoever said that speaks up again, “Well shit, and I kinda wanted to see Y/N with dried up cum on her this morning.”

“San, you’re so fucking nasty.” Someone chastises which causes a ripple of laughter throughout the room. You almost think they’d continue their conversation when suddenly, you feel a body crouch down next to you and begin lightly tapping at your cheeks.

“Ah, Y/N-ie, wake up for us,” You do as he instructs, you fluttering your eyes open again, only to see a grinning Wooyoung staring back. He holds a cup of water in one hand and the other as a closed fist, “Getting drunk like that without taking precautions, how can you be so irresponsible?”

You scrunch your nose, “What?”

You’re ready to pout, to rebut against his words, but he beats you to the punch by telling you to open your mouth, which you do, and he drops a few pills on your tongue, “It’s Tylenol. Hopefully this’ll stop the headache soon.”

You relax a bit after that, accepting the water as you lean forward. Downing a few gulps, you wait until the pills disappear down your throat then go to speak to him, “How’d you know I have a headache?”

“Everyone gets one their first time drinking.” Hongjoong, the perpetrator, the reason why you’re even here, walks up to you from the other side and also lowers himself so he’s level with you, “I’ll give you props though, you handle your liquor pretty well. Didn’t even throw up on Woo’s carpet once.”

He also has a cup in his hand, filled to the middle with bluish-greenish liquid, and mindlessly you thank him but it’s evident you’re fixated by the mysterious drink, “What’s that?”

Hongjoong peeks into the cup, acting as if he himself hadn’t known what the substance was, but then quickly he’s shoving it in your face with a smile and requesting you to take it, “Mouthwash. We can’t let you leave here with bad breath.”

You allow him to put the plastic to your lips and tilt the cup, dispensing the mouthwash. Your cheeks grow with the slightly burning liquid, you swishing and gurgling it all around before respiting it back into the cup.

After washing out your mouth, you finally sit up on your elbows and sweep a gaze across the room and who’s all in it. Yunho’s standing directly in front of you with his back to the window, San being tangled up in the comforter on the bed, and Mingi resting on the ground in front of a dresser.

“What the actual fuck happened last night?” Mingi comments while staring straight ahead, almost in a daze, and soon memories from the night before flood your mind.

The stupid truths that were asked, the disgusting dares that were performed, and the absolutely most vile challenges to have been completed. All of it resurfaces to your head and you are left in complete and utter shock.

“We found out Y/N’s a real nasty one, likes it dirty.” San snickers, and you throw the harshest dagger eyes imaginable towards him. No one could have prepared you for the drastic turn last night took. From drinking alcohol for the first time to allowing yourself to unravel underneath these five men. So much had happened and you just let it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted pussy as sweet as yours.” Wooyoung mumbles close to you and you hate how your stomach does another flip, “You covered my face sooo well with your lips, it’s almost like you were made for me.”

“Can’t stop staring at her tits.” Yunho blatantly states and not once has his attention been derived from your chest, part of him wishing for his face to be buried in them again.

“Fuck, and her mouth was a needy one, I remember that,” Mingi recalls with a chuckle, causing you to straighten your back with a beat-red face, “Thought she was gonna suck me dry last night.”

“How can you guys say these things? Aren’t you all embarrassed by what happened?” It hadn’t even crossed your mind to think of the repercussions your actions would have caused, leaving you with feelings of shamefulness and wrongness. But despite that, somehow everyone else feels indifferent.

Wooyoung merely laughs at you which makes you turn towards him bewilderedly, “Someone’s self-projecting right now.”

“Are you only asking this now because you feel bad about last night? About letting yourself get showered in cum?” Hongjoong mocks and you slowly cast your eyes downwards. Why do they have to have such a filthy mouth?

“To be fair, you could have declined everything, if you truly didn’t want it.” Yunho makes point, brining his shoulders up and slugging them down again.

“Yeah and who was the one that fucking came on herself after just some hickies?” Mingi thinks about your quaking body beneath him right after he sucked on your neck, nothing getting him more aroused than that moment.

“Just admit it,” Hongjoong drawls, dropping his eyes to take in your exposed body, “You liked every single part of last night, maybe a little too much than what you were hoping for, and that’s why you’re embarrassed. Come on, Y/N, you’re no different from the rest of us. You’re just as nasty.”

You don’t respond. You don’t look up. You force yourself to keep your eyes locked on the little, red box still on the carpet that’s been left untouched all throughout the night.

You’re disgusted by this, by it all. Disgusted by how forward they’re being. Disgusted by how they’re speaking to you. Disgusted by the fact that even through the ridicule, not once did you make an effort to put your tank top back on, and most of all, disgusted with yourself for squirming around to their hurtful words.

“No fucking way, look at her! She’s clenching her thighs right now.” Wooyoung throws a finger to your legs which have closed in on themselves and the rest of the boys hoot in amazement.

“And yet, we should be the ones embarrassed,” San goes to undo the blankets wrapped all around him, sitting up from his laying position and swinging his legs over, “You really are something else.”

Yunho pushes himself off of the wall, the black tank top he sports showcasing each flexing muscle with every step, slowly works his way closer to you, “You know, since we’re talking about it, I’m actually a little pissed at how last night went.”

He stops when he’s hardly an inch away and you verbally hear your breaths catching within your throat, “What are you saying?”

Mingi chimes in with a cold laugh, “Oh my- yeah, I know what you mean.”

While you bounce your eyes between the two of them, confusion plastered on your face , it’s San who deciphers their ominous code for you, “It’s cause they didn’t get to fuck you last night.”

Oh.

At the bluntness of his sentence, you can’t help but let out a soft mewl. Hongjoong dips his head closer to you, laughing, and decidedly adds on, “My god. These fuckers wouldn’t stop talking about how bad they wanted you while you were asleep. Granted, we all pretty much want the same thing, but holy shit. They went on rambles.”

“We could’ve stuffed you up just right too.” Mingi smirks and throws a glance over to you while you attempt to regain what little control was slowly slipping away. You can’t let yourself succumb to them, not again.

“Could’ve had you begging for our cocks like it’s your last meal.” Yunho meekly offers then shrugs his shoulders, feining as if he’d said nothing out of the ordinary.

You drop your mouth ready to scold him, all of them for their horrid words, when two hands begin to snake around your torso. With no hesitation, they grab a moundfull of your breasts which stops the forming sentence and leaves your lips parted open in complete surprise. You quickly look down at yourself being palmed and grabbed at.

“Wanted to feel these every moment of the night, but, that would’ve been weird, right?” Wooyoung quips as plays with your flesh, “Oh man, and you’re so damn soft too.”

The slight pain caused by his action jolts through you, you swiftly shutting your eyes and trying to hold back a whimper, “Wooyoung, please,” Your voice cracks when you plead, “What are- what are you doing?”

“You’re getting her nipples so fucking hard, look at them.” Yunho drops down to his knees and eyes your tits fully, “If I remember anything about last night, it’s how perfect you were when I sucked on these.”

At the end of the sentence, he brings a finger and thumb up to your nipples, flicking at your buds in a quick motion, and instinctively you yelp.

“Oh my god, Y/N. You see how we just lose control when you’re around?” Hongjoong scoots his body closer towards the action, bringing a hand up to your stomach and rubbing aimlessly around the area, “You make us act this way.”

You want to refute that and say, ‘how could I possibly be responsible for this?’ but it’s like the words disappear in your throat when he slides a few fingers near the top of your underwear. He’s grazing the padded area, stroking it.

You nearly forget your initial protest and almost allow yourself to come undone at their touch, and it only gets worse when you hear the bed creak and a body stalking its way towards you. When he gets behind you, you sense the being is much closer than you expected, and the next words to spill are essentially onto your neck.

“If you could get off to just some hickies, I’m so curious to see what else can bring you over like that.” San finishes with a grin that he presses against your skin, then going in for tiny kisses.

“You guys- h-hey.” You almost jump at the hand placement on you leg now, Mingi slowly working his way up your naked shin, past your knee, and halting at your thigh. He’s purposely holding himself back from going all the way.

“Say the word, and we’ll stop.” Wooyoung coos in your ear, the groping on your breasts getting significantly harder and at this point, he’s made room for Yunho’s hands to pinch and pull at you as well.

“We promise, we’ll do it if you want us too, but then…” Hongjoong lolls his head further into your vision which steals your attention away from everything else, “You’d need to stop fucking yourself on my hand if that’s the case.”

“Huh?” You quickly dart your eyes down towards your pelvis and as Hongjoong’s fingers lay idly on your clit, it was in fact you who had been sourcing your stimulation, your hips ever-so leisurely rocking, and digging onto his hand. And you hadn’t even known.

“Fu-uck,” Yunho tilts his face up, enveloping himself in the feeling of your squishy body directly in his hands, “Wanna fuck your tits so damn bad, please. Please, I need your tits around me right now.”

“I could see the outline of your cunt all last night, just staring right at my face,” Mingi kneads at your thigh, and he doesn’t know what came over him, truly he doesn’t. All he knows was that your thigh just looked eatable, with him swooping his face down to drag his tongue in a long, jagged pattern across your skin to your underwear line, “It’s like you were begging me to fuck you.”

“Need your mouth again on my cock, Y/N. You’re lucky I didn’t cum in your damn mouth when I had the chance.” San remarks, leaving mini-bites along your throat.

You hear their begs, their pleas, their desires. Never before have seen such a lustful group, one so open for their wants, for you on top of that. It’s hard to ignore them. Pretend as if their requests aren’t propelling you forward to buck faster onto Hongjoong. So, damn hard. And just like that, all previous attempts at holding yourself back have now cleared your mind. You crumble.

“Are you finally giving in to us?” Hongjoong stares you down, the originally limp hand he had on your underwear now steadily sinking into your pussy, “Well all have so much we want from you, would be waste if they couldn’t be fulfilled.”

The motion makes you flinch as a deadly groan leaves you, your eyes squinting shut and you’re forced to grab onto Wooyoung for support, “Ah-! ah-! Yes, yes, please. You can do whatever you want.”

“Hear that guys? Y/N-ie’s giving us permission to fucking destroy her.” Wooyoung cackles out while his teeth bites down on your shoulder and you cry aloud once more. What? Your skin’s absolutely beautiful, he wanted to see if it tasted as good.

Mingi lets himself up off of you, his face covered in his own saliva from slurping all over your leg, and it’s like a newfound desire pops into his head, “Shit, someone make her lay down. Just wanna do something really quick before we ruin her.”

All at once, the hands and mouths that were on you retract and soon you feel yourself being pushed down flat onto the floor, you recalling a similar situation from last night. Immediately, they get rid of your panties, yanking them off of you, before he’s bending your knees back. Right at the perfect angle to where your cunt’s spread wide enough for everyone to see.

Your scatter your eyes to the few bodies towering over you, “Mingi-”

“You think she’ll cum if I just stick my fingers in her?” He borderline muses, licking his lips at the sight of your pretty, thick cunt.

Wooyoung’s hands are back on to you as he’s fondling one of your tits again, then goes down till he’s level with you on the floor, “I dunno, you should try it out, though.”

Mingi huffs a sigh out, almost too entranced by you to continue, but then he watches as your pussy contracts and releases, almost in desperation for something and that breaks him, “Keep her still, I don’t want her squirming around.”

It’s San and Hongjoong who grab at your knees to hold you down, restraining you as Mingi settles between your legs, eye to eye with your clit. If he were to dart out his tongue, he’s sure he’d graze a little bit of your skin. And so that’s exactly what he does, sticks his tongue out to give you a slight lick directly into your lips, which quickly causes you to twitch.

“Y/N’s gonna get filled with Mingi’s fingers,” Another body taunts, Yunho, who’s dropping down to the other side of your chest and essentially mimics Wooyoung’s pose, “You’re about to get filled with his fat fingers while we fuck up these things.”

Referring to your breasts, the two men jump on you as if they’re starved, the only way to get full again is from you. They both kiss at your supple skin, then try to stuff however much of your flesh they could in their face. With mouths full, they use their tongues to wiggle around, coating a large portion of you in their spit.

“Gah!” You have to bite your lip from screaming even louder, as the men on your legs resort to using only one arm to keep you down, the other going in to touch you places.

“You just move at everything, don’t you?” Hongjoong smiles, noting how hard you’re trying to keep yourself from fidgeting underneath them. He’s back to rubbing near the top of your clit, while San on their other hand is nearly fluttering his eyes open and close, him leisurely starting to grind his hard bulge on to the back of your thigh.

“That’s-” A particular bite from Wooyoung makes you wheeze before coming back to your senses, “That’s not fair.”

You’re just about to fall apart at the seems from having almost every part of you stimulated, never having been so turned on before in your life, it’s bound to leave you wanting to wiggle around.

Mingi throws in another harsh slide of his tongue which would’ve shut you up immediately had you not finished talking already. He laps a bit more at your cunt, and even momentarily would bury himself between your pussy lips just for the feel of it, before he’d even begin to finger you. The moment he brought his hands, you were practically game over.

“Uh oh, someone’s about to hit their climax early,” Hongjoong sees how despite your hips remaining relatively still, your stomach’s sucking in and out rapidly, you breathing worsening by the second.

“Should we let her?” Mingi asks as he comes up for a second, watching the scene unfold before his very eyes of you basically going crazy.

Yunho, who’s been occupied with suctioning on your tit, finally detaches himself, leaning his head right below your boob, “But that’s kind of unfair. Remember, she got herself off last night without any of us helping.”

The other two on your cunt hums at that fact, Mingi narrowing his eyes to further examine you before doing the despicable act. No warning, no preparation at all, he shoves his two fingers into your entrance and a gutter-like groan escapes your lips, almost feeling like punishment for last night.

The motion didn’t make you cum, not like how they thought, and the guys were happy about that while you, oh the only thing you wanted to do was lay on your back and spaz out an orgasm. But, they weren’t going to let you. No, if you wanted to cum, it would need to be with everyone.

After pounding his fingers in a few more times, the squelching sound of your pussy cutting through the air combined with your heavy panting, Mingi unplunges his hand and inspects the wetness dripping off of him.

He twists his fingers around, taking in your arousal then opens his mouth to suck off your liquid. The taste of you shoots down to his already hard dick and he almost lets out a moan himself, “Mmm, do you know what you taste like?”

You couldn’t even look at him, whining out a ‘no’ as you go to shake your head. It’s hard to concentrate when the rest of the guys still haven’t let up on you.

“Oh, well here.” You try to glance down and get an image of what he means when all you see are fingers fly at your face before he puts his own wet digits inside your mouth. Your eyes roll back as you immediately choke on them, coughing against his fingers.

It buzzes against his skin which only fuels his erection further, and now he deems it’s time, “Yeah, I’m ready to fuck her.” Then he rips his fingers out of you.

San has to physically pry himself off, pre-cum seeping past his shorts and leaving your thigh a drenched mess, “No one take her mouth, I want it.”

“I bet your assholes so tight,” Hongjoong’s cock almost creams at the thought of your constricting hole around him while he removes his fingers from your clit, “Y/N, are you gonna let me fuck your ass?”

Yunho bites his lips at the red and purple art that has became your breasts, “All I know is I’m gonna cum right here.” He points to your sternum as the destination, indicating he’s wanting to rub himself in between your two mounds.

Wooyoung pops his mouth off of your bruised nipple, hazy eyes and all as he stares at your beat face, “Y/N-ie, I just know you’ll jerk me off so good. Have me shooting out sperm into your hand.”

Their words almost made you finish right then and there.

They all want you, and they want you bad, so much so that they’re willing to break your body for satisfaction. It’s almost fascinating.

“You okay with this, Y/N?” Hongjoong asks one final time, because once they get started, he isn’t sure any of them will be able to stop, “You’ll be fine with us wrecking you?”

You slowly drop your eyes to him, the friendly face that you had seen at the vending machines last night, and the face you saw when he was orgasming all over your face. You pan over to Yunho and Mingi, both who made your History lecture a lot more entertaining, and yet had the absolute desire to fuck you raw.

Wooyoung stares at you with his ever playful expression, one you remember seeing in high school, and also when he went down on you a night ago. Then there’s San, your motivator, always pushing you when it came to your shared major, and ultimately who wants you to swallow his seed as you take his cock whole.

Making note of each and every person, you breathe out a relaxed sigh before resting your head back onto the carpet and shutting your eyes, your own lust pulsing throughout your body, “Yes, I want you..” just saying it out loud is enough to make your pussy clench, “I want you guys to wreck me. I need you guys to.”

The boys exchange looks with one another and it’s clear what’s racing through their heads. That you’re done for. And so, without another word, they lunge onto you.

Hongjoong flops his back down next to you on the ground as he simultaneously shimmies out of his pants to better pull his cock out. Mingi and Yunho have a grip on your forearms and it seems they’re giving the older time to get himself ready.

Once he’s fully out, he throws a signal to the others, “Alright, help her on top.”

On his command, they lift you up and to the side, you now hovering directly above Hongjoong. You’re facing away from the action, almost oblivious to the madness ensuing behind you.

“Fuck- I…should we put her down slowly?” Yunho asks and was that a…sliver of concern you heard?

Hongjoong brings his chin down and gets a face full of your ass. You’re so close to his cock. He could buck his hips forward and penetrate you like that, but even he isn’t that sadistic, “Ah..hold on.”

You wonder what’s taking so long. Is he starting to reconsider? Granted, he was one of the reasons why-

“Oh shit!” Your butt immediately squeezes against the 3 wet fingers lodged into your ass.

“Just needa get her prepped really quick,” Hongjoong moves his fingers in and out of your hole, bringing on a sensation you’ve never felt before. You’re verbally whining at his movements while the others take in your groans.

Pumping just a few more times, he finally pulls his fingers out, “Okay, okay she should be good now.”

“Go slow.” San adds as the two begin lowering you down onto Hongjoong’s awaiting cock, so plump and tall, and ready to take you. At the initial touch of his head, you do sharp inhale.

“It’s alright, you can take me.” Hongjoong supplies as he brings his hands to your hips, helping you down, “You’re doing so good.”

You feel yourself spreading wider the more his cock fills you, and by goodness have you never felt this way before. You’re shutting your eyes completely shut and pressing your lips together. You try to remember the pain of having sex for the first time and this feels similar.

“Almost there, just hold out for me.” Hongjoong calls out to you while eyeing himself, watching as his dick disappears into your ass, and if he were a worse guy, he might’ve started driving his hips into you right away. But, he’s not, and so he allows you time to adjust on his stiff self.

San regards your tense expression, then peers over Hongjoong who appears to be controlling himself, “How’s it feel?”

“Like I’m gonna cum in her any second now.” He gasps then releases his head down to the ground, “Y/N, let me know when you’re ready.”

You give yourself a bit more time, causally squirming and wriggling against the foreign sensation. Getting on seemed to be the hard part and so after mentally preparing yourself, you give Hongjoong a small glance over your shoulder, “O-Ok, I think I’m ready.”

At those words, Yunho and Mingi free their grip on you, backing up a little to watch this unfold. Hongjoong’s hands are still on your hips, anchoring you to him as he shifts around beneath. He wasn’t lying when he said to San he’s holding himself back, you really are making this difficult for him.

“You got this,” Hongjoong murmurs then right at that moment, he starts to hump himself into you, getting a feel for the friction of right now.

“Oh, look at her face.” Yunho beams as he sees your face contorting with a mix of different emotions. The pain is still there, but it feels with every thrust it’s gently fading away.

“Aww, Mingi’s about ready to fuck himself into you, can’t you tell?” Wooyoung teases which causes you to creek your eyes open to the tall boy who’s watching hard, a hand unhurriedly stroking his exposed dick. You aren’t even sure when he took off his pants.

“Mingi,” Your tone is breathy and you feel as if you’re glazed by him masturbating, “Are you ready?”

He simply walks over to you while you feel yourself being pushed back onto Hongjoong’s chest by Yunho, now laying flatly on top of him. Hongjoong’s breaths hit the nape of neck almost instantly. Your knees are split apart and from Mingi’s perspective, he can clearly see the Senior continuously pushing his cock in and out of your asshole.

He gathers between your legs, pushing your legs even father apart while watching out for Hongjoong’s thighs which are directly below him. Fuck, is it taking everything in him to not just give your clit a quick slap.

“You’re about to have both of your holes filled,” Mingi works his eyes up to your chest and how floppy your tits are bouncing, “I should be asking if you’re ready.”

“Mmm, just go.” You could hardly get that out in one breath with Hongjoong gradually picking up his pace. You produce more grunts the faster he goes, but at the feeling of Mingi slipping his tip into your entrance, it makes you borderline shriek.

“Holy fuck.” He sighs, registering that his cock’s coated right off the bat in your slickness, “Dunno if I can let you cum first, you feel so good.”

He holds back another moan as he pushes himself all the way in, and it feels almost cynical to say that you think you notice some of your liquid dripping out of your cunt and down to your ass, wetting Hongjoong’s working cock.

“Am I good? Can I get on top of her now?” Yunho’s eagerness is ever apparent, any mild concern he had for you long gone. He saw the way your confused face beforehand has now morphed into one expression. And by the looks of it, you’re in paradise.

“Hurry up.” Mingi shudders when your pussy gives him a quick squeeze, and he begins a rocking motion inside of you.

Yunho wastes not another second in straddling your chest, swinging a leg over your torso and propping himself right underneath your tits. His pants have been long-gone, discarded in the other pile of bottoms and underwears left by the others.

“Been waiting too long for this,” he breaths out, his hands going straight to your breasts like magnetics. Despite his large body on top of you, Yunho keeps a conscious of not completely crushing you with his weight, and only slightly hovers above.

His dick lays perfectly in the middle of your cleavage, and he clutches your soft flesh within his palms, pushing and pulling at you. He aligns himself till the base of his cock is with your tits, then even he starts to thrust mildly in between you, squishing your sensitive breasts against his rocking hard-on.

“Look, you’re letting yourself get fucked in three different positions right now.” Wooyoung draws notice to this fact with a large grin on his face, him leisurely stroking his cock in one hand. He can’t help but stare in amazement at your priceless expressions, you babbling incoherent sentences while your eyes go white. You look fucked out.

“My turn. You’ve been acting so well for everyone else, I’m hoping you’ll do the same for me.” San utters as he dips down onto his knees. His own pants and underwear, along with the others, are off, and he aimlessly pleasures himself.

Opening your eyes, you roll your head to the side and see the head of San’s cock staring right at your face. It feels almost as if it’s begging for entrance into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You timidly widen your lips, big enough to fit at least the tip into your mouth and he dives himself straight into it.

“Oh-!” You warm mouth feels even better than he remembered, you covering his erection so well his eyes are wavering open and shut. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and stretches you to no length possible, as you basically allow him to slowly start fucking your face.

“You’re so damn tight,” Hongjoong’s speed over the course has increased significantly, now at a rhythm where he isn’t concerned about hurting you. The pain has faded at this point, and to hear his jagged breaths struggle while bucking into your ass makes you whimper.

“Mm! Mm! Mm!” Any moan that’s wanting to escape you is muffled by San’s cock, him quietly murmuring to himself of how delicious your whines feel when he gets to absorb them.

You almost start to grow limp as your arms fall. Surely, you’ve submitted to them long ago, but now, having nearly every part of your body packed and used is making you stupid. You can’t think anymore. You can’t even speak. Only the timely pumps by them all is enough to keep you mentally here.

Your left hand rests against the ground, palm facing up, and you believe you’re safe to keep it there, a part of you that’s still left unoccupied, but when bulky skin comes down onto your palm, rubbing against the grain, you knew that wouldn’t be the case. Even though you couldn’t see, your head being turned the other way for San, it only made sense who it is.

“Y/N-ie, don’t forget about me.” You could hear the pout in Wooyoung, whining a bit more, though he’s already stroking himself faster into your hand. With each move, he’s leaving behind trails of wetness, lubing up his cock for when you instinctively wrap your fingers around him.

You begin to jack him off the best you could with what little strength you have, every so often you being forced to stop when Mingi would hit you at a certain angle. Yet, it’s apparent Wooyoung doesn’t necessarily care about you getting him off, but rather having your hand as a fuck toy for over time he starts to develop his own pace within your grasp. Now even he gets to fuck you like a play thing, all of them are.

Yunho’s hips are faster now, his hands working hard to grab and circle your breasts while he continues to drives his cock in between them. He’s never felt arousal like this before, your tits mushing his whole dick in a manner that sends jolts of pleasure through his tip and straight to his ballsack.

Mingi’s pounding into your needy cunt, him watching you swallow his dick whole every time he humps into you, “Feel- so- fuc…fucking- amazing.” The collection of spit he’s built up over the course is threatening to spill out, and so gathering a large amount, he pushes it all to the front, sending his saliva directly onto your clit.

It’s a power move. Showing that he can just as easily spit on you as he can fuck you into oblivion. And even if you wanted to be disgusted by this, you’re still the one rocking your own pelvis against both him and Hongjoong, whom’s mouth is practically on your inner shoulder.

He’s mumbling incoherent things, you thinking you could hear a repetition of ‘shit’ a countless number of times, all gradually getting higher. You nearly wail when he sinks his teeth into your skin from behind, biting the crease between where your shoulder and neck meet. It was amove to stop him from whining too loud.

“Mmm, fuck, I think I’m close…” San says out loud to the group, and even you could tell a while ago he was trying to hold back. His hips have decreased significantly in speed, and is only giving a thrust every other second. Despite this, your mouth still gurgles around him in a way that pleases him. Though he tried to postpone his orgasm, you just make it so damn difficult.

Wooyoung’s bucks into your hand have also turned from the consistent movement to a more sporadic rhythm, and he starts to lose his senses. The more he focuses on your hand around him, just letting him fuck your palm, the more he felt he was gonna blow at any second, “You’re so…so fucking nasty for this…” He was trying to shame you for it all, but his tone is a dead-giveaway that you’re making him go insane.

“Y/N, fuck you and your perfect tits,” Yunho’s grunting on top of you as his lower body begins to stutter, “Been making me wanna…wanna cum all over you from the moment I saw you.”

“Her pussy’s so fucking possessive, keeps devouring my cock like it’s starved,” Mingi huffs out, finding that his once even pace has turned irregular. He’s holding onto your knees for support while trying his damn hardest to restrain himself for as long as possible, “Gonna- gonna finish all in you, Y/N.”

And you. You were beyond the point of breaking. You’ve felt your orgasm practically hitting from the moment Hongjoong stuck his cock inside of you, but you’re good. You listen. They tell not you not to cum until they do, and you oblige.

But now, you’re done holding back. Every part of your body is being used, filling you, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. It’s a miracle you’re still alive. Now finally, it’s going to be all over.

You wiggle your hips desperately against Mingi, squeeze your hand so well for Wooyoung, let Yunho abuse your tits, and take San’s cock all the way to the back of your throat.

You’d think one of them would be the first to finish, but when Hongjoong relinquishes your skin, a throaty groan aiming straight into your ear, that’s when you feel a spurt of liquid shooting up into your asshole as he calls out, “Oh, fuck me!”

And that was enough for your own orgasm to come. Like a punch to your gut, both you and Hongjoong cum together, your legs quaking heavily as his sticky substance begins leaking out. Everyone could hear it, your attempt at a wail as your hips start to stutter, your walls clenching aggressively against Mingi’s cock which in turn causes him to pulsate.

Next thing you know, he’s ejaculating all into your cunt, holding himself down to where the only thing he can do is fill you up as you continue to shake beneath him, “Holy shit.” He groans in a strained voice.

Yunho blows his load the second he feels your body convulsing, his own mocking yours in the way his stomach thrashes while his warm, gooey nut leaves his tip and heads right for your chest. He manages to get some on your sternum, just like he said he wanted, but he finds he’d rather just cover your breasts. Ripping his cock away, he begins jerking himself throughout the rest of his orgasm, spilling out and all over your tits.

The feeling of their liquid makes your eyes vibrate, you buzzing another moan against San and he loses it. He’s releasing his ejaculation down your throat, keeping your head still as he’s dispensing more and more of himself inside of you, “You take me s-so good.”

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” The unsteady motion of Wooyoung’s thrusts is evident of that, the way cum is already start to permeate through his head and all over your hand, but quickly you feel more strings of it covering your palm. He’s still grinding his himself into your grip, an ungodly whimper falling from his lips.

You continue riding out your high, while in their own variations, they all do the same. Whether it’s grunting or whining, the combination of moans from them makes you aroused like no other. Eventually, the bucking of their hips slow, and you stop feeling additional liquid hitting your body, indicating that their moments are nearing the end.

You’re still producing after-shocks, even as they begin to detach themselves from you. Wooyoung pulls his somehow half-hard cock from your hand, Yunho standing up and removing his weight from your torso, but quickly falling over to the ground.

San’s too in love with how wonderful your mouth feels on him, but even he knows it’s time to give you a break. Both Mingi and Hongjoong separate themselves at the same time, with Mingi pulling out first and then Hongjoong, only after a pair of hands lift you up.

Your eyes are shut, and you hadn’t noticed before but drool’s dripping down the sides of your face, along with part of San’s cum, yet you didn’t care. You’re placed gently back onto the ground as a form of recovery for you to lay there which you do.

With no thoughts in your head, no worries present, you simply bask in the after effects of what had happened. Not even a feeling of guilt or embarrassment reside in you. Only a clear head and drips of cum sliding around your skin.

You almost start to doze off again, eyelids growing heavy and a deep sigh overtakes you, when a voice lets out a yawn, smacking their lips a bit before talking, “Oh wow, it’s already 11.”

You don’t respond immediately to that, your sleep consuming your brain but then you think. There’s no way it could be 11. You always did tutoring for the younger students at 10:30 or so on Sundays, and you’ve never been late to a session before.

But, if the time is truly right, then that means…

Just as quickly as you had shut your eyes, you’re flinging them back open, panic flooding throughout your whole body.

“Oh, god!”

✧

— Bonus —

Little, bookworm Y/N, studious as always, is the one you see in the front row of classes, meekly raising a hand to answer the umpteenth question with ever-lasting knowledge. Your teachers knew you as a such. Reliable, punctual, intelligent, just an absolute delight to have in class.

Never once have you been a disturbance, nor have you have had the intent of being one. Which is why you were selected as a peer mentor in your History class, helping those who struggled in the subject you excelled quite well in.

So, you can only imagine the quizzical look on Professor Park’s face when you barge nearly an hour late into your tutoring session, fumbling and juggling your book bag around along with your papers and text books.

On top of that, instead of making your way down to your usual spot near him, you cut through the middle aisles, brushing past rows of chairs then plopping down in a set of empty seats. Most of the other students give quick glances to you, also confused by your truancy.

“Oh….?” Your professor stares at you in awe, taking in your somewhat disheveled appearance. Your shirt appears 2 sizes too big, hair thrown in any kind of way, and when he asks you to move closer towards the group, he watches as your pants hang awkwardly off of your body.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Park.. I-I” The excuses tumble out of your mouth, each step you take to descend down to the base of the room chopping up your words, “It was a complete accident. I hadn’t intended on being so late.”

After your apologies, you reach the bottom of the stairs and walk past the Frenchman in shame. Because of you being late, Professor Park had to take over your usual group, leading a mini-lesson that he has written on the board.

He brings up a somber hand to try and calm you down, his slender fingers waving softly in front of your face, “It’s alright, just take over your group like normal and I’ll fini-”

You do a quick brush past him, your scent blowing right after, and the whiff he gets is enough to make him stop his sentence. Setting your things down near the rest of the group, you go to turn around when you notice it. His whole demeanor’s changed, a sudden stiffness to him that he didn’t have before and instantly you grow nervous.

“P-Professor, are you okay?” Had he actually been upset with you? Oh, who’re you kidding. Of course he should be, you had completely, and utterly messed up.

The watchful look he gives lasts for a couple of more seconds before he registers what you had said, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Blinking, he clears his throat and shakes his head briefly, you seeing part of his dark hair swaying with the motion. He stammers out, “Yes, yes, Y/N. Handle your group for the last 30 minutes, and I’ll handle mine.”

You nod at his words, immediately twisting to the students and going straight into your teaching. Professor Park’s eyes linger on you a bit longer as he drops them down to fully take in your attire, then eventually going to speak with his group.

As he assigns them a writing prompt and allowing time for them to complete it, he finds his mind wandering back to you. His ideal, and perfect student. And to your noticeably large shirt, combined with your wide black pants. Your face was also a dangerous shade of red when you had came in, but even he had just brushed it off as you being tired from sprinting to the session.

It all makes sense now.

The powerful scent you had, strong enough to make him stop in his tracks and stare at you, because never in his months of knowing you, would he have expected you to reek of sex. So blatantly too.

The all-too familiar smell of cum radiated off of you, and your lips were abnormally bigger than usual, most likely from you taking someone’s cock. He almost wants to laugh, he’s so shocked by this revelation.

You’d been getting fucked when you should have been here on time. Professor Park thinks about that again. You, his punctual and reliable student, had been getting fucked when you knew you had to be tutoring.

His gaze dances towards you once more and your animated smile. He knows you only reveal such a grin whenever one of your students says something right. Most of the time he’d find it amusing, this time it makes him scoff.

You’re fucking dirty, he thinks. And he absolutely hates how a throb begins to pulse in his pants. Now, he’s pissed, and it’s all your fault.

A beep from his pocket derives his concentration from you and your antics, and he quietly excuses himself. He gives the students more time to work on the prompt, as he stands closer to the board, yanking his phone from his backside.

There’s a message from one of his former students, one he had a few years ago, and admittedly, Professor Park’s slightly shocked by the surprise text.

11:24 AM

Kim Hongjoong:

- you’ll never guess who i was just with hwa.

- a real fucking freak, i’ll tell ya.

926 notes · View notes

bakugoushotwife · 10 months

Text

Just Being Neighborly

a/n: y'all gone need the holy water for this one... it was a lovely writing challenge from the one the only @getosbigballsack so if you something with similar themes don't freak out lol. this was super fun and i definitely got carried away LMFAOOO

cw: shew let's see um, threesomes, mfm but the men are involved briefly, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, anal, dirty talk, pet names, slight dacryphilia, size kink maybe? doggy and reverse cowgirl. unedited as usual, i probably missed something im sorry

wc: please im so embarrassed it's 9k

They still remembered the day that you moved in. It was a sunny Tuesday in the middle of the summer, the gentle breeze flowing into their townhouse while they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch playing Fifa. The sounds of car doors shutting and the roll of suitcase wheels on the concrete sidewalk got Satoru’s attention. He pauses the game, and Suguru groans. The lanky young man trips over himself to lean over his best friend and roommate on the couch, peering out of the window.

“Stop being so nosy and I was beating you.” The other man sighed, moving his long dark hair to his other shoulder so his companion didn’t lay on it.

Gojo huffs in defense of himself, keeping his bespectacled eyes trained outside. Finally he sees you. You walk back to the sleek Cadillac in the shortest yellow polka dotted sundress in existence, cute white pumps elongating your bare legs even more so. He was drooling and he hadn’t even seen your face. “There’s a babe moving in!” He rejoices, maybe a bit too loud through the open frame.

Suguru leans over to pull his mouthy friend out of the window, but you too, piqued his interest. The dress was tight, hugging every curve and accentuating your large bust and wide hips. You don’t notice them watching, too busy pulling boxes out of the trunk and setting them on the sidewalk for you to carry in. Satoru wonders what you do for a living. These were expensive townhouses, the two college students only lived there on the account of him being a trust fund baby.

The more built of the two shoved the other male off his lap, but the lanky man saved himself from falling to the floor. “We should go help her, she shouldn’t carry all that herself.” Suguru suggests like the sweetheart he is. Satoru hums mischievously at the idea.

“What a great idea, I’m sure the babe will be relieved to have two strong young men living so close!” He grins, elbowing his partner-in-crime.

“Y/N, are you done yet?” A foreign voice thunders, the sound of dress shoes clack back out to the car, grabbing their attention. Soon a man in a suit comes into view, folding his arms at you.

You sigh softly and paint your smile on. “Almost, dear. This one’s a bit heavy.”

“Well you packed it all in there, so whose fault is that?” Your husband chuckles, though he’s not kidding. Satoru Gojo’s nose scrunches up.

“Blegh, he’s an asshole.” He sneered.

This time, Suguru Geto had to concede to his best friend, the way the man spoke to you was awful, and he was making you carry everything? Disgusting, “Agreed.”

Satoru gently slapped the other’s chest. “Then let’s go help the babe.” He said excitedly, to which his friend chuckled and shook his head at his eagerness, though he can’t wait to introduce himself to you. The two get up from the couch and slip into their shoes, beginning their descent down the lavish stone steps. He feels a pang of guilt, you’re clearly in a relationship of some sort, but the feeling soon subsides when he remembers his treatment of you. Men like that don’t deserve women like you.

As if his closest friend could read his mind, he elbows him in the ribs. He’s got a cunning smile on his face, and Geto knows that he doesn’t care about your relationship either. If there was one thing you could count on Satoru for, it was unabashed boldness.

“I’m thinking we swoop in right, save this pretty damsel in distress.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling his glasses down his nose to give his friend a knowing look. He quickly pushes them back up, though Suguru knows that won’t be the last time his companion will pull that stunt. “Or at least offer our strong shoulders to cry on while we carry all her things.”

Suguru sighed. “Be normal, please, for once.” He pleaded, dark eyes narrowing at the smirk decorating his face.

Satoru rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Sometimes Suguru was so annoying, and absolutely zero fun. If he had to seduce you himself so be it, but he wouldn’t let Geto sweep in later if he didn’t help. “I am normal, you’re the weak one.” He giggled, sticking his tongue out and scooting down the rest of the steps, smiling brightly once the sun warmed his skin. They stood on the same sidewalk as you, shyly observing you unpack the car. You seem frustrated with one box in the trunk, perhaps the same one you mentioned to your…heathen earlier.

Gojo smirks, sharing a glance with the ever-stoic Suguru once more. Hands in pockets of his black basketball shorts, he wears that brazen grin all the way to the Cadillac. Suguru walks slowly after him, eyes trained on the ground ahead of him. He would have to be the gentleman to make up for Satoru’s lack of shame.

The lanky man clears his throat, the summer sun behind him enshrining him in an ethereal glow. You turn to the stranger, taken aback by his almost unnerving beauty. He hooks his glasses on his tight black tee, grinning teeth shining as white as his shaggy white locks.His gaze is the clearest blue you’ve ever seen, you can see the clouds from above you reflecting in his matching sky colored eyes. You arch your brow, unsure what to make of his approach. Just as he’s about to speak, a second man appears. He’s not quite as tall, but his shoulders are broader and features warmer. He smiles softly, black eyes carefully analyzing you. He folded his arms over his chest, abs clearly defined beneath the opaque wife beater. He jutted his chin out to your boxes, but it’s the first visitor that speaks.

“We noticed you could use some help, miss.” He smiles, icy stare shamelessly raking over your figure. Your cheeks warm under his gaze–no, surely it’s just this summer heat. You’re happily married, moving into these lovely townhomes because of your newlywed husband’s success as a District Attorney. Maybe he wasn’t the most attentive husband–or even the nicest, but he was paying your way and you didn’t have to lift a finger. He did right by you, so you tell yourself. But you must admit, the two young men were right. There was no way you could get that damn box out of the trunk, much less carry it all upstairs to your new dwelling.

“Oh, well, yes actually. Thank you…?” You say, arching a perfect brow at them. Gojo nearly let out a dreamy sigh, your face was just as perfect as the rest of you. Your brows were immaculately manicured, lashes full and framing enchanting doe eyes that looked at them so expectantly. You were so tempting it was hard for even Suguru to be respectful, sweat beading at your chest so deliciously he had to readjust the gray sweats hanging low on his hips. Satoru hummed, amused by the scene.

“I’m Satoru, this is Suguru. We live here!” He shared as if it were a treat just for you.

Suguru stifled a groan. “It’s always nice to welcome new neighbors. May we ask your name?” He asks, leaning forward slightly. You leaned against the bumper of your car, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. They were handsome and not much younger than you if you had to guess. They were certainly capable of helping you carry these last few boxes. There was no harm in introducing yourself. So why did you feel so guilty?

“Oh, I’m Y/N Robertson, it’s lovely to meet you. I’ve been struggling with this box for a while!” You chuckle nervously, patting the offending weight and stepping out of the way for one of them to grab. The white-haired man nodded, showing no signs of regret, repeating your name aloud.

“Y/N Robertson. Was that jerk your husband?” He asks, the permanent glimmer of amusement twinkling in his eye.

You gasp softly and Suguru’s eyes widen. “I apologize about him, he has issues. I think he was born without a filter.” Suguru apologized, glaring at his counterpart.

Jerk? Is that too far off the mark? It had been such a stressful move, you did mostly everything yourself, your husband working fourteen hour days and refusing to lift a finger when he was around. You were mostly embarrassed that these two had noticed his treatment, not wanting their pity. “He’s…he’s just been busy with work. But yes, he is my husband.”

Satoru clicked his tongue, walking forward to effortlessly lift the burden you had been struggling with for the past twenty minutes. “That’s a shame, Y/N. A princess like you doesn’t need to be carrying something like this. But don’t worry, we got ya.” He winks.

You avert your gaze to the other man, almost seeking solace in his peaceful presence. He’s wearing a faintly smug expression as he lifts the stack of boxes on the sidewalk. Suguru only nods his agreement. “Which one’s yours?”

You think about it, pulling out your phone to look at the paperwork.. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I’m pulling it up…” You mutter, taking your lip between your teeth. The men share a look. You were adorable.

“Take your time, we’re fine.” Suguru insisted, giving you another warm smile. It soothes your nerves only slightly and stokes the fire elsewhere.

Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’re super strong. Don’t worry.” He says, admiring your manicured nails tapping away at the screen of your device.

You allow yourself to giggle at this, you could tell they utilized the location’s gym facility a lot. Satoru’s black shirt hugged him tightly, swells of his biceps bulging against the hems. He grins at the gift of your laughter, smirking at his friend. Suguru chuckled through his nose, shaking his head at how easily his roommate flustered you. You hiss in celebration.

“Yes! I found it, sorry. It looks like I’m in…408!” You say without realizing. Your innocent eyes blink up at the tall pillars that were your new neighbors and current assistants. Satoru looked like a kid in a candy shop, and Suguru smirked in silent celebration.

“Right across the way from us. How divine.” Satoru chuckled, turning to make his way up the stairs with the weighty box. “It looks like you’ll be seeing a lot of us!”

Suguru hummed. “I’m sure we’ll make great friends.” He said, slowly striding after the energetic man. You just padded behind them, watching Suguru’s back muscles glean with sweat, long hair swaying slightly as he trods along the steps. You felt ashamed, eyeing them this way, but it was hard to miss the way Satoru’s shirt rode up to reveal his own toned abdomen and white patch of hair leading to the shorts sliding down his slender hips. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, telling yourself it was just because of the growing wedge in your marriage. You just needed to escape their lingering gazes and deviant smugness.

Later that evening, the men sat on the same couch that they discovered you on, deciding to play the long game. Your husband was a tool, you were practically in heat just from their eyes on you. It was clear he wasn’t giving you any of the things you really needed.

That was a year ago now, the two college boys are more than in your favor by now. You brought them a tupperware of muffins the very next day, and it kind of became your trademark. You took good care of them, bringing them dinner some nights and supposed “leftover” baked goods. They wondered if your husband even noticed that you started cooking for four. They found any and every excuse to visit you during your husband’s long workdays, often spending the entire afternoon with you.

When they weren’t with you, they were thinking of you, talking to each other about what they would do when they could share you. They could hear everything through the thin walls, every fight you had, every tear you shed, every orgasm–though they could tell they were faked. It was painful, biding their time until they could make their move, just hoping that the moment presented itself soon.

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait much longer. It was another regular day, the two were working on some household chores when a door–your door–slamming caught their attention, followed by crying and two voices screaming at each other.

Satoru dropped the plate he was washing with wide eyes, scrambling for the peep hole. They’ve heard the arguments, but none of them had spilled into the hallway, or had been filled with such emotion on your end. This time it was your husband who cowered in front of you as you screamed and threw his things out of the home.

“Cheating bastard! You cried, face reddened from all the stress, no doubt. Suguru turns the washing machine on and makes for the door too, fighting with Satoru to see.

“Honey please–it was a one time—”

“Oh don’t bother. She sent me everything! This is on the fucking news, you absolute ass!” You huff, shoving a suitcase into the hall. At that, Satoru scrambled to the couch, flipping on the television and pilfering through the channels until the news displayed the reason for such an argument. Even he was shocked, a cheating scandal for the ages. Suguru’s heart dropped as the reporter spoke:

“District Attorney Joel Robertson caught in a blazing hot scandal this evening. The other woman tells all! His secretary leaks the sex tapes–claiming this affair has been going on for years.”

“How could he cheat on her??” Satoru is puzzled, yet grateful. Your dumbass husband has finally given you a reason to leave. It was only a matter of guessing when you would bang on their door.

Suguru sighs, he never wanted you to be hurt. He knows that Satoru isn’t necessarily thinking about it that way, though he can’t deny the twinge of excitement in the back of his mind. Your dollhouse of a marriage would be over, and he had the perfect idea for revenge.

“Sex tapes, huh?” Suguru muttered, muscular body pressed into the door to watch your husband pick up all his things strewn about the hallway. He didn’t even look guilty, seemingly fine with your pained tears. You slammed the door in his face.

“I never want to see you again! You’ll get papers soon!” You yelled from behind your door. Your husband rolled his eyes.

“Yeah? Well good luck paying for a place like this with no job, you insufferable piece of work.Or finding anyone better than me.” ” He chuckled, the suitcase rolling down the marble hallway and your tears being heard loud and clear after Satoru clicks the TV off.

“Sex tapes.” Satoru confirmed with the shake of his head. He realized how this had to be affecting you, pressing his face against Suguru’s to try and peek out of the peep hole for any movement within. “How horrible. The secretary’s an ugly anyway, they belong together.” He snorted.

Suguru side-eyed him. Satoru said every thought that crossed his mind, his friend was convinced, however it was hard to disagree with some of his wild statements. This was one of them. You were way out of your husband’s league. He treated you like garbage and then had the nerve to cheat after not even being able to please you? Disgusting. Vile.

“Should we…?” Suguru poses aloud, not able to stand the sound of your cries much longer.

Just as Satoru nods eagerly, your door flies open again. This time, you march right across the hallway, raising your pretty fist to knock on their door. Suguru’s lips part in surprise, but you hesitate to actually connect with the firm barrier between you and them. It was almost like the point of no return, the building tension that started the day you moved in would all come to a head if you crossed the threshold.

You bit your lip, looking back at your entrance. Maybe you should just go back, you were just emotional and seeking out the only comfort you could think of, right?

Satoru flings the door open, not giving you the chance. You’re face to face with the two, realizing they probably saw everything. Your cheeks heat up, your raised hand slowly lowering to your side. You must look a mess, hair disheveled from the countless times you raked your hands through it, eyes red and puffy from crying, tear stains on your cheeks. You make a strangled sob noise, looking at them so sadly it pulls their heartstrings.

Suguru steps forward, reaching for you. “We heard, we’re so sorry..” He says, and you can see his sympathy for you written in the warmth on his face. You put your hand in his, the feeling of human contact with someone who actually cared was almost enough to make you cry again.

Satoru huffs, leaning against the doorframe. You’re almost caged between them, feeling their body heat radiating off. His face is embossed with displeasure, eyes darkened in the same way the sky does before a storm. “He’s a piece of shit. Doesn’t deserve someone like you anyway, sweetness.” He says with a look of disgust, shaking his head.

Suguru covers your hand with his other one, dark eyes bouncing between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you were thinking. Truthfully, you were embarrassed more than anything. It was one thing to be in a loveless marriage, it was another for that fact to be known across town thanks to your husband’s low morals and high notoriety. You would be a laughing stock.

“I’m just…embarrassed! I’ll be known around town as his poor wife. I hate that, I don’t want their pity or laughter…just so embarrassing.” You mutter, looking toward the ground. The sentiment makes Satoru pout. Oh how he just wanted to comfort you, for Suguru to lead you into the apartment where you would stay with them forever.

Suguru frowns. He could tell your tears weren’t for your broken heart, but your devastation. Your reputation on the line, betrayed by a man who had never treasured you. He glances at Satoru, who’s just staring at you with such longing the dark-haired man can’t take it. “We can help you embarrass him, if you’d like.”

His eyes widen. The words fell from his lips before he could think the better of it, but now you’re looking at him with those pouty doe eyes in confusion, and Satoru has to save the day, picking up your other hand.

“Yeah, he’s right. We’ve been listening to you fake orgasms for a year now. Dude has some nerve makin’ tapes like he knows what he’s doing. We could really show him.” Satoru chuckles, leaning down from the door frame. You can smell his cologne, something minty with almost a hint of chocolate. He does know what he’s doing, invading your senses like this. His warm body and gorgeous eyes that have been undressing you since the day that you moved in paired with his scent and touch was overwhelming in the best way. Especially with the firm but comforting grip that Suguru kept. His hands were calloused from hard work, cradling the softness of your hand like a newborn. He leans closer too, waiting for some sort of response from you. His dark hair fell in layers around his face, accentuating his strong jaw and cheekbones, pale pink lips smiling softly. He smells of bourbon and cinnamon and some sort of expensive shampoo, the two of them so different and beautiful in their own ways–and both wanting you.

“What did you..have in mind?” You squeak, your neighbors and acquaintances grin at each other. You didn’t even question their eavesdropping, knowing that they’ve been craving you since that summer sunny day.

Satoru hums in pretend thought. This was only for show, they had determined what they wanted to do moments ago when they shared that glance. “Make a sex tape of your own, with men that can actually make you cum.” He let a laugh out through his nose.

Your eyes widen, you open your mouth to speak but find that you don’t know what to say. Have you had a few wet dreams about a moment like this? Maybe, but that didn’t take the surprise out of their reciprocal desire. You looked to Suguru to search for any hint of his friend teasing you, but the man only squeezed your hand and smiled smugly. He could sense your doubt, and it was precious.

“He’s not joking. We’d love to help you get revenge, dear.” He doubled down, the air around you growing heavy and charged with an energy that made your stomach drop, butterflies replacing your insides. Satoru steps out of your way, and Suguru angles his body the same way. You can pass right between them and enter their townhouse. You nibble your bottom lip, a nervous habit they had picked up on. “No worries, though, if you don’t. We’re here for you irregardless.” Suguru adds on the end, not wanting you to think you must. They wanted you to want to.

And Satoru sure hopes you do, his gray sweatpants growing tighter at the thought of having you today, and under such circumstances! They hadn’t considered making films with you when discussing their fantasies, but he was definitely down with the idea. He smiles and nods, taking his lip between his teeth to mirror your nerves, but his was anticipation.

Suguru is highly perceptive, he’s hoping you say yes if only for his best friend’s sake. You wrack your brain, you should say no. There’s no way that this can end well, but your desire has piqued. They were right, your husband was horrible at sex, and you’ve been wondering what Satoru’s slender hands would feel like on your body, thinking about Suguru’s sweet smile pressed into your skin instead. Your stomach tingles at the thought, and you know what you want. You want to give in to your desire, you want to be with the men that had actually taken care of you for close to a year, and you wanted your soon to be ex-husband to see how good they could make you feel.

You take a deep breath and squeeze through their bodies to enter their home. It was clean, like always. They tried to be better about that when you started eating dinner with them. You set your phone down on the table, taking a seat on their couch to blink at them expectantly.

They shared another look, but this one was one of surprise. There you were, in their house waiting for them to fuck you. They had dreamed of this, and now it was happening. Gojo wastes no time, smirking and coming back inside, pulling Suguru in with him and shutting the door. You don’t miss the sound of the lock clicking, though it made you giggle at his eagerness. He takes his shirt off to avoid having to do it later, and you bite down on your lip again. Though this time it’s because he’s incredibly sculpted, as lean as he is.

His skin is pale and scarred, you wonder from what, but it only added to his beauty. Every muscle was defined, down to his v-line. You can’t help but notice the ache in his pants, and you nearly sigh dreamily. It’s almost embarrassing how your core throbs, and this was just one of the two. Suguru picks Satoru’s shirt up off the floor, setting it on the coffee table instead. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, and you fight the urge to request his shirt be removed as well. You smile shyly at him, and he chuckles, reaching his hand out to hold your chin. “We’re gonna take good care of you, baby.” He insists, thumbing at your bottom lip.

Your eyes stare up at him expectantly, taking in the lustful gaze he finally reveals. His dark eyes become half-lidded and focused on your pout. “Can I kiss you sweet girl?” He asks, sharp brow arched.

You nod eagerly, feeling the cushion on your other side dip with the weight of the other male. He must have set up the camera, surely he wouldn’t allow Suguru to beat him to the punch. Much to your surprise, he only sets his hand on your hip, leaning forward for a better view of his best friend’s mouth covering yours. Geto’s lips are rough like his hands, in a good way. His tongue is warm as it laps over yours, his large hand still holding your jaw. You can feel Satoru’s hands knead at your thighs, but he’s not protesting. He doesn’t even protest when Suguru’s other large hand slips under your ass to pull you up into his lap. He just scoots closer to keep you sandwiched between hard bodies.

“Yeah this is hot.” Satoru groans, palming himself over his pants when Suguru gently hikes your skirt up so he can access more skin, his thick fingers digging into your doughy flesh. You could feel his lips curl into a smile at his friend’s encouragement, kissing you harder. Your senses were overwhelmed, though you expected and wanted that. He tasted so good, letting your tongue dominate his just for the enjoyment. He nearly chuckles at your eagerness, it seems their desire wasn’t one sided. Your hands tug at his shirt, so he lets you catch your breath so he can yank it off. “Ah, you gotta match us, angel.” Satoru grins, nimble fingers playing with the hem of your tank top.

You blush, knowing you have no bra beneath. It was still too hot to wear layers, though your body felt like it was at the highest temperature it had been in a while. You’re so pretty, Suguru thinks, watching you peel your tank top off, bare chest to them. Your tits were perfect, nipples hardening before their very eyes. Satoru groaned, reaching to cup one of your breasts. Suguru’s lips latch onto your neck, his hands still kneading at your thighs. You can feel your cunt dampen as Satoru dives forward, sucking your pebbled bud in between his teeth. You gasp softly at the sensation, Suguru’s eyes open, watching his roommate fondle your tits and feeling you writhe in his lap only made his hardness nestle into your side, making you gasp again. Both of them were going to be huge, and you didn’t know how you would be able to handle it.

Suguru snaps you out of your thoughts, rotating you in his lap just a little. Your back was flush against his chest, the skin almost burning where you connected. His muscles made you feel like you were sitting against a wall. If not for his warmth and the bulge settled in between your asscheeks, you may have thought you were. Satoru hums, pleased with having more access to you, his tongue swirling your sensitive bud. His fingers pinch the other, the slight pain sending shockwaves through your body, causing you to arch into his mouth.

Geto chuckles, his hands still stroking gentle paths from your thighs to your hips, where nothing but your skirt stopped him. He arched his brow, jerking the fabric to sit around your waist. “No panties either, sweet girl?”

Satoru pulled away from your chest at this, a thin string of saliva stringing from his plump pink lips to your breast. “Oh dollface, I’m beginning to think you got ready for us.” He chuckles, the sound bright and bubbly as he scoots back on the couch to gaze at your newly revealed pussy. Your head spins from the way they look at you, like you’re a precious jewel. You feel drunk on the mix of their touches, where one was sweet and warm the other was rougher and icy. Suguru continues to press sporadic kisses to your neck and shoulders, trying to find your sweet spots. You whine so darling when he finds them, he can’t help but smirk to his best friend as your eyes flutter shut from the simple pleasure of him kissing your neck and the white-haired boy’s grip on your knees to spread your legs. He groans at the sight of your slick cunt, nodding to Geto.

“She’s soakin’ Sugu. Hope you don’t mind but I gotta taste.” He hummed, his svelte fingers spread your lips apart and you shiver from the cold air being blown on your center. Satoru giggles, you were so cute like this, wiggling on Suguru’s lap and craving more of them by the second.

Suguru nodded his permission, obsidian eyes locked on his friend’s sapphire ones. He thought the boy’s excitement was adorable, and yearned to watch the enjoyment of both of you. The lanky boy cooed his happiness and leaned forward to lick a fat stripe down your center, moaning at the taste. Your head fell back on Geto’s shoulder, hand flying to tangle up in white tresses. He giggles again, relishing the way your body responds to him. He does it again, humming at the intense lust in Suguru’s eyes and your sweet gasp.

“Stop playing.” Suguru warned, biting marks into your skin to give you some pressure and pleasure since his counterpart wanted to toy with you.

Gojo pouted, but you nodded your head in agreement. “No fun.” He huffed, but dipped his head down to your core for the count this time. You didn’t want him to tease? Fine. He won’t. But just remember that you asked for it. His tongue plunges in your weeping hole, his fingers assisting him in drawing circles around your clit. You moan softly, body jolting at the sudden intensity. Your hips rolled, fucking yourself on the muscle.

Suguru hums at the sight, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from moving too much. It was clear your ex didn’t know how to treat you sexually, either. You feel his warm breath in your ear, Satoru’s fingers replacing his tongue, pushing his long fingers straight to your spongy spot. Your vision spots from that alone, not to mention his lips suckling your nerves. Suguru watches every move, impossibly turned on by the two of you together.

“You’re so beautiful with his mouth on you like that, sweetheart. Do you like it?” He coos, collecting all your hair and brushing it over your shoulder so he could see all of your perfect face. You nod quickly, and Suguru chuckles, a deep rumble that you can feel in his chest against your back. He realizes that you’ve lost the ability to speak just from Satoru. It’s sweet, but he knows you’re in for one hell of a time.

“You sure you can handle both of us, dear? I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He asks, eyes focused on the animalistic way Satoru devours you. His mouth was a mess of your arousal, tongue swiping his lips to keep your taste.

You were already overwhelmed, but it was the best feeling of your life. You didn’t know how you would please both of them, but you knew you could. So you nod.

“Use your words for me then, sweetheart. We’ll do the color system, m’kay? Green is all good, yellow for slow, red for stop, can you do that for us?” He says, running his fingers through your hair. Your eyes meet Satoru’s, who also seems to be waiting for a reply. You nod again.

“Yes, ‘m fine, green all good.” You mutter, grinding your pussy against Satoru’s nose even though he was buried in your cunt. He sucks on your clit again, but it makes your stomach jump and your hips rock faster so they know you’re close to your first real orgasm in who knows how long.

Geto hums his approval, tightening his hold on your waist. “You gonna make her cum for us, Sato?” He inquires, every touch flaming hot. Gojo nods, teeth scraping your bud and it’s all you need to topple over the edge. Suguru’s hands go back to your hips, your fingers tugging on the other boy who still lapped at your nectar. He hums his enjoyment, sitting back on his knees and winking at you.

“You can pull my hair all night long, angel.” He says, watching your hole clench around nothing. How cute. He flickers his gaze to the man holding you upright, arousal nearly dripping off his tongue. “I think she needs a little break, you wanna taste?” He asks, which confuses you for a moment. How could he give you a break if they were going to swap?

Geto hums. “Of course I do. Come here.” He says, smirking at your bewildered gaze on them. Satoru grins and leans over you, planting his lips on the man who asked. You gasp softly, the sight more arousing than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, as they seemed pretty attracted to each other, you just felt ashamed for getting off on it. But you can’t help it, the way they hummed their satisfaction against each other’s mouths was melodic, Satoru opening his mouth for Suguru to utilize how he wants. The latter holds his jaw in similar fashion to the way he held yours earlier, controlling the space between them. He pulls back a little, mostly just to view your arousal covering Satoru’s bratty face and to look over at your awestruck features. He smirks at this, his tongue darting out as he brings Satoru’s face back to his, though they don’t kiss. Satoru whimpers as Suguru licks the sides of his mouth, cleaning all your natural honey off his best friend’s face.

You gasp softly, not able to stop yourself, “That’s fuckin’ hot.” Satoru chuckles, his hand closing around Suguru’s wrist so he could turn his head in his grip.

“I agree baby girl. He just had to taste you on my tongue.” He grinned, though that was the exact truth. The flavor of the two of you combined was driving him crazy. His dick throbbed painfully, and he didn’t know how much of this he could take. He releases Satoru in favor of fisting his hair.

“Let me get her other hole ready.” He demands, and only Satoru knows what he means. The white-haired boy grins devilishly, sitting back on the other end of the couch. He wiggles out of his pants and tosses them over his shoulder, cock slapping his eight-pack.

He looks at you with that same bare-naked stare he gave you the day you met, his smirk unfaltering. “Lean over and suck my cock, baby. He wants to see it and he's gotta get your ass ready.” He giggles softly, his large hand wrapping around his own length to keep it from aching. Your eyes flicker to the cock in question, aggravated red tip oozing pre-ejaculate down his prettily veined shaft, curving upwards to abuse every spongy spot. He was much bigger than your ex, you knew it would take some time to adjust. Nonetheless, you eagerly slip off of Suguru’s lap, getting on all fours. Suguru takes the opportunity to free his cock from his pants, sitting on his knees so he had a bird’s eye view of you crawling toward Satoru.

Gojo nearly vibrates with excitement, moving his hand away from his length so you could take over. He suddenly pouts when your pretty eyes look up at him, he’s realized he still hasn’t kissed you yet. “Oh no sugar, Can’t have you suck me off if I haven’t even been a gentleman.”

He hums, sitting up so he could meet your lips. He was greedy with his kiss, lips hungrily moving over yours. You respond in kind, hand resting on the back of his neck where your fingers just brushed over the soft fuzz of his undercut. He moans softly, clearly enjoying the way you play with him. He pulls back with a loud smacking sound, resting his back against the arm of the couch once more, hands folded behind his head. Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru’s showmanship, but he watches anyway.

“Much better, go ahead, hot stuff.” He coos, looking rather satisfied with himself. Your face is why, so drunk on his kiss that you sit back on your knees and hover over his tip, squealing in surprise as Suguru holds your waist. You can feel his length rubbing against your thighs, positioned under your cunt. His tip collides with your clit so perfectly when you rock back on him, your hips doing so automatically. You moan softly at the feeling, and Suguru hums as your arousal continues to drip around him.

“I’m gonna fuck you while you give him head, sweetness, ‘s that good with you?” He asks, praying you say yes. He didn’t want to throw too much at you at once, but his dick was beginning to hurt. He sighs happily when you nod. You bite your lip, knowing you were about to feel unimaginably full. You turn your head to peek at his size, finding him not as long but nearly twice as girthy as the dick you hold in your hands. And you already needed two hands for Satoru. You sigh, Satoru’s slender fingers grabbing your chin to pull your focus back to him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him angel, I got you soaked enough to take him.” He brags, squeezing your cheeks between his grip. He giggles at your smooshed face and hums, bringing your chin back down to his tip. You batted your eyelashes at him, watching his face carefully as you stick your tongue out and take him into your mouth. He groans at the relief of your warm insides, ego stroked when you gag just halfway down his length. He can feel himself in the back of your tight throat, eyes fluttering shut when you start to bob your head along him. Suguru smirks, enjoying the sight. He can see the muscles twitch in Satoru’s stomach and he can feel your pussy lips move on his dick leading him to believe you’re clenching around nothing.

He can fix that. He palms your round ass, relishing the way you push yourself back into him while easing more and more of Satoru’s dick down your throat. It’s gorgeous, Gojo’s soft moans and the choking gags of you trying to take all of him. Your throat squeezes him perfectly, his hand coming down on the back of your neck to keep you there. He forces his eyes open, wanting to remember the way you look with his cock stuffed deep, tears rolling down your face. All three of you have forgotten about the camera, just performing for each other. Satoru can tell when Suguru plunges in by the way your eyes widen and you temporarily stop moving. Though you don’t have much a choice once Suguru starts rolling his hips against your asscheeks. The burn as he stretches you out is delicious, making you moan around Satoru. He moans in return, the vibration of your voice going straight to his balls. He can’t help but slightly buck into your warm mouth, Suguru’s slow thrusts giving you time to adjust.

You clench around him and that sensation alone is so good he almost moans. Satoru wasn’t lying, he made sure you were absolutely drenched to make accommodating his friend’s size as easy as possible. Your walls were still so choking and spongy, he can feel a tingling sensation shoot down his spine. He watches you get used to him, your hips slightly wiggle back for him, and you resume bobbing along Satoru. It was hard to breathe with such a task at hand, you took deep breaths through your nose, but you still felt dizzy as Suguru picked up his pace.

Satoru watched the pleasure wash over Geto’s face, the man’s eyes closing and mouth dropping open. It was so hot, especially with the way you squeezed around him. It was too much, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Your pretty face at his cock, burying your nose in his snow colored pubes paired with Geto’s soft grunts as he plows into you and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass was sending him hurtling towards the finish line and he didn’t want this to end yet. He didn’t want to shoot his load in your mouth—not this time anyway.

Suguru settles into a regular pace, trying not to falter when you squeeze down on him like this. His thrusts are powerful, pushing you into Gojo’s trimmed bush with every rock of his hips. The men are rewarded with the sweet sound of your gags, to which they both cherish. He tries to be gentle as he gathers some spit on his fingers, tentatively sliding the spit around your tight ring while he keeps you drunk on dick. You mewl softly as his thick index slips in, both holes squeezing on him so fucking good he groans. Suddenly, there’s a rubber band ready to snap in your gut, making you gasp around the girth keeping you from speaking, as if you could do much of that anyway.

The man responsible hums, giving your ass a gentle smack. “Gonna cum for us again baby?” You nod along Satoru, and he beams with satisfaction. “Go ahead, get my dick nice and wet for me.” His words are so lewd that you can’t help but obey, gagging on Satoru as you try to cry out. The slender boy can’t handle it, biting down on his lip to avoid the inevitable.

“Sugu, not gonna make it like this..” Satoru says in a whiny tone, watching your ass ripple into Geto’s hips and your face contort in added bliss. Suguru peeked at his friend’s pouty face and chuckling at the blown pupils and flushed cheeks of the bratty male.

“That’s fine bubs, we’ll change it up. I’m sure that throat needs a break.” Suguru hummed, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He didn’t want anything obscuring his view of your perfect mounds. He lightly spanked the flesh, relishing your little squeal. He treasures his last few pumps of you, knowing he would give his whiny counterpart your sopping hole. Satoru releases your hair, smiling brightly at the sight of your ruined face.

“Now those are some tears I can get behind, princess.” He coos, thumbing them off your pretty face. He brings your mouth back to his, not willing to give you any time to breathe. You’re gasping against his lips, but your hold on his shoulders begs him to come closer. Suguru continues prodding your hole, spitting on the second entrance of yours he’d be taking. He slips a second finger in, and you don’t complain. You sigh into Satoru’s mouth and tug at his hair, lips smacking against each other's messily. Geto loves watching this, his other hand stroking his aching erection.

Satoru watches his friend, trying to sync his timing to his. He was only trying to keep you occupied so the other man could work your asshole, knowing it would be a big stretch, Satoru was content to make out with you until he comes untouched, but he knows Suguru won’t allow that to happen. He nods, now able to scissor his fingers in your hole. His strong hands grip your hips, pulling you from the white-haired man which earned a whine from you.

“You’ll get Satoru back, beloved, don’t worry.” Suguru rasps, pulling you back into his lap, facing away from him as you did earlier, the only difference being your knees folded under you as if you were still in doggy. You felt a little guilty with his comment, not wanting to prefer one over the other. So you lay your head back on his shoulder, using two fingers on his jaw to turn his face close enough for you to push your lips on his. Satoru loves the sight, the two sexiest people he knows making out right in front of him! The only thing that could possibly make this better is what they’re planning on next. Gojo walks forward on his knees, once more caging you in. It’s his mouth you feel soothing the marks his friend left earlier, breaking new patches of skin to bruise of his own.

Suguru’s hand cups your cheek, his kisses deliciously slow and sensual. He didn’t want his hard work to go to waste though, so he lifts you slightly, lining his cock up with your asshole. He breaks the sweet kiss, “You think you can take both of us, baby?”

“Oh she can do it, poor girl needs it.” Satoru hums, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod. If you thought you were incapable of speaking earlier, then maybe you’ve never had good sex in your entire life. “Green, go for it..wan’ have both.” You whine, making Satoru light up.

“You heard the lovely lady.” Satoru purrs, hands on your waist as a means to push you onto Suguru’s cock if he doesn't do it fast enough for his liking. Suguru just chuckles through his nose and shakes his head.

“So impatient. Very well.” He hums, using his leverage on your hips to slide his tip past the squeezing ring of muscle. He grips your hips harder than he means to, undoubtedly leaving semi-permanent marks. It was impossible not to, he was trying to slowly inch his way in, but your ass was sucking him in so good he had to slowly shove the rest in. You let out a loud wanton moan, bordering scream. Satoru moaned from the sight and sound alone, his only touch being his hands on your waist. He was going to claim your cunt, no doubt, but he had to let you get accustomed to Suguru’s rod in your ass.

He just lets you sit on it for a moment, partially for his own benefit. He had to get himself under control or he would bust immediately, and ruin everything for Satoru. And he would never hear the end of his mouth if he did. You feel so full, the pressure of him stretching everything open makes you see stars. You yearn for movement, for some relief on your throbbing clit, so you whine, watching Satoru’s face morph into surprise as you try to bounce on Suguru already.

The man moans, the first one he’s let loose all evening. It’s deep and once again thunders against your back. You were better than the fantasies he had conjured in his head, and he was determined to give you the time of your life. So he aids you in your bounces, his rough hands supporting your weight and dragging you up and down his shaft at his own pace. It was still too good, the warmth and tightness choking down on him perfectly.

“Fuck her, Satoru.” Geto breathily demands, the gravelly tone of his voice sending a chill to both you and the man he ordered inside you. Satoru didn’t hesitate, his knees situated between Suguru’s. He lined up with your entrance, tugging you forward just a bit which must have deepened the long-haired man’s connection as you started moaning so lewdly Satoru wondered if he’d paint your walls just by pushing inside. He couldn’t watch your poor pussy clamp around nothing any longer though, bottoming out in you and holding your cheeks in one large hand. He enjoyed how your sounds changed, sounding warped due to your smooshed face. He smiled, your cunt tightening around him, meaning it got even tighter for Geto.

“You heard the man, ‘m gonna fuck you angel. Let us know you’re okay.” He cooed, and even though his words were sweet he almost sounded like he was teasing you.

You nod, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched at the sensation of two huge cocks stuffing you full. You thought your intestines must be forced to move to accommodate them, heavy breathing and soft grunts in your ears. “Good, so good.”

Satoru nodded, kissing your forcibly puckered lips sweetly as he began to move inside you too. His eyes roll back for a moment, everything about this was perfect. Your silky walls pulsating around him, the feeling of Suguru’s cock rubbing against his only separated by a thin wall of tissue, the look on his lovers faces. He groans, tossing his head back as he fucks into you harder. He dreamed of a day like this, and now he could only pray this wasn’t a one time thing. He was already addicted to this, and by the looks of it so was Suguru. He hadn’t ever seen the man so relaxed, though he enjoyed it immensely. As if he could feel his stare, Geto opens his eyes to make contact with the man staring. He winked, a slight smirk. Your hips continued to buck, getting fucked no matter how you moved. Forward onto Satoru’s curved length abusing your pleasure spot or backwards onto Suguru’s impaling girth splitting you open. You feel that familiar sensation of fire building in your gut, your pants and moans getting closer together. The men look at each other, nodding breathlessly. They were close, like they had been since the moment they saw you undress. The feeling of your choking walls on both ends made it impossible to hold out any longer, though your body spasms tell them they won’t have to. Your grip on Satoru’s hair tightens, a wailing moan signifying your release as if the rush of cum surrounding Gojo wasn’t obvious enough.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna get both loads love, you want that?” Suguru grunts in your ear.

You nod vigorously, head so empty you could only collapse against his chest, making him support the full weight of you. He didn’t mind at all, grinning ear to ear. He was hanging on by a thread, but it was his job to make sure everyone was happy.

“You first Sato.” He groaned, clearly struggling.

“With me.” The man pouted, the deal so sweet that Suguru couldn’t refuse.

He nods, “With you.” He gulps, waiting for the tell-tale crinkle of Satoru’s nose to tell him when to release the burning coil in his gut. Satoru could tell that he was waiting for him, his thrusts to your cunt menacingly rough. It only takes a few more before his nose crinkles and mouth drops open, cock twitching inside you fucked out cunt.

Suguru gasps softly, his hot load spurting off like an erupting volcano, quickly filling you up and forcing the rest to ooze out around him despite how well he plugged your hole. Satoru’s seed spills out into you like a dam had been holding him back, both sensations so warm and messy and delicious that you moan softly at just the feeling, head spinning as it falls back onto Geto’s shoulder with heavy breaths.

Gojo slumps forward slightly, kissing your jaw with the most tenderness he had displayed all night. “I knew you could do it, hot stuff. That was fucking amazing.” He hums, fishing for an article of clothing to put under you. He finds Suguru’s shirt, and raises up enough to slide it under you with Geto’s help. They couldn’t have you staining the couch, now. Gojo slides out of you, leaving you on Suguru’s comfortable lap. The black haired man smiles at you sleepily, pushing some of your hair out of the way.

“Yeah, it was, we hope you had a good time?” He hums as Satoru goes to stop the recorder.

You giggle and nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I guess it’s time to get cleaned up and back to my place, for as long as I still have it.” You chuckle dryly, your entire body was a pile of mush, and you couldn’t move if you tried. You just didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make your problems their responsibility, despite their eagerness to take care of you.

Satoru comes back with three bottles of water and a sheepish look on his face, an oddity for him. “I may or may not have forgotten to press record.” He says with a slight grimace, handing out the waters as an apology. Your amusement is clear, and you wonder if he did it on purpose.

Suguru laughs, and he can’t figure out if it’s at you or Satoru. “Hm, what a predicament. You’re not going anywhere.” He squeezes your hips and lifts you off his length, setting you back in his lap regularly. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you don’t have to worry a hair on your pretty little head about your place. You can stay here.” He said matter of factly, his arm hangs possessively around your waist.

Gojo hums. “We could use a sweet lady like you. We’ll make up for that year of faked orgasms.” He winks and takes a swig of water. They make a convincing argument, and with the way Satoru wipes the pearls of cum off your legs and the way Suguru carries you in his arms to start a shower, you have no doubt that they will take care of you.

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk #mdni

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worldsover · 14 days

Text

Professor Knows ft. Arin

(5.5k words)

You’re seated at the front of the lecture hall, and you’re not sure if you’re in class, or a movie theater with an actress playing a prank for some hidden camera, and here comes the host ready to pop out at any time; hold in your jaw, please. But no, that’s Professor Arin, and everyone here thinks it’s normal that her white pinstripe dress shirt and her gray skirt are both short enough to reveal so much skin that you’re already picturing her naked so that if you were to be saying a speech in front of a thousand people, that’s 1/1000th down to make the task easier.

That’s Professor Arin, teaching passionately, and you don’t give a damn about what you’re learning because this isn’t your campus, and you just wanted to get to graduation already—well, those are the excuses. You don’t give a damn because you’re drooling at the so-called professor dressed more like a slutty schoolgirl/pornstar emulation of one, or at least you have to hold back from drooling.

You are mesmerized by her perfect hourglass figure, and her heels—goodness, those heels. In her knife-thin heels, she’s rocking an entire lecture hall like she’s that one summer fling that got away, stabbing at hearts and bleeding them dry. How do your classmates do it? How can they concentrate with those hips swaying, and a pencil skirt so tight you can read a book on her ass? How can you focus when she bends over to pick up a dropped pen, and you’re one millimeter away from seeing the absolute territory? You’d call it collective self-control of an entirely different level.

It could be how friendly and bubbly she is. Overtly touchy with all her students, she treats everyone like longtime personal friends, casually grabbing arms and shoulders, patting backs and heads, and no one minds because why would they. The only one minding is you since she doesn't treat you the same way. You would often shift in your seat as the fabric of your pants becomes taut against your honesty whenever she catches your gaze.

And whenever she catches your gaze, for a beat, your heart stops. But then she smiles impassively and continues her lesson without any chalance. You exhale, relieved she didn’t read your mind.

That’s how it goes on for the entire semester: hell on earth, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Or so you believed. Arin, as it turns out, is omniscient or psychic or maybe just some hair-level more observant than an average student like you—she's the one at the front of the class after all. She knows everything she's doing to you. She must. You hope. Pray. Beg.

Arin calls you into her office one day. This is it. The rumors. She’s a total nympho, a freak, down for anyone half good-looking, and you’d say you’re not so bad yourself.

She's sitting down in her leather chair, her crossed legs revealing just a hint of lace-adorned thighs; you lose your cockiness the moment you're inside the room. You're captivated by the soft, warm lighting that illuminates Arin's flawless features. Her lips are a shade of red that begs to be tasted, and you wonder what those luscious curves must feel like against your own. You swallow a dry lump in your throat, mentally willing your erection to subside.

"Sit down," she purrs, her voice as sensual as silk against your overheated skin. Her eyes never leaving yours, she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in a way that makes her skirt ride even higher. That's more of her thighs. Less of your sanity.

Your fingers clench into fists at your sides and then you take a seat in the chair across from her, acutely aware of the space between you.

"So, Mr. Lee," she begins, raking her eyes over you, "I've called you here today because I've noticed something... interesting about you." Her voice trails off, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table separating you. You swallow hard, fearing and praying for what she might say next.

"Interesting?" you manage to croak out, cursing yourself for sounding like a lovesick puppy. Arin has reduced you to a puddle of hormones with a single look.

"I’ve noticed your… attention in class," she says, removing her glasses, and you're done for. "I want to make sure all my students are participating, fully engaged."

"I am, Professor," you whine.

"Just call me Arin," she says.

You blush. "Arin, of course."

Space becomes even more of an attention hog; the room feels like it shrunk a thousand times its size now, every one of your heartbeats echoing off the four walls, the bookshelves as your eyes follow her fingers, which now travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Your breath catches in your throat as she uncrosses her legs, revealing just so the white fabric of her panties. Arousal hits you like a ton of bricks, your cock throbbing in your pants. You swallow hard, trying to moisten your mouth as she gets up from her chair and sits on her desk instead.

Then, she touches you for the first time, like she's your classroom crush, finally noticing your feelings, and you can believe that easily, the woman at most a few years your senior. It's a simple touch, a brush of her index along the back of your hand and wrist, yet it's enough to spike the little hairs onto ends like you're touching a Van de Graaff generator. The moment she lets go: there's the blue-white snappy little spark. At this heightened state of awareness, your eyes are flies or bumblebees or hummingbirds, your heart the latter's. You can't make sense of anything else but her.

"I think we both know why I called you in here, don’t we?" she asks, her voice husky.

Now, it's your turn to speak up. Choose your next move wisely.

You say, slowly, "I need to… learn. My lesson."

Arin nods, hops off the edge of the desk. Her smile turns from sultry to goofy. (How’d she do that?) "Exactly!" She pushes a couple of papers in front of you. "Practice these cast studies, I’ll have you read them for the class next lecture."

You were about to get hit by a truck, didn’t get hit by a truck, and felt disappointed that you didn’t get hit by a truck. You take the papers, nod, and leave with your head down. She waves bye when you look back.

Fast forward to the next lecture. You’re a hot mess. You didn’t sleep, rehearsed those damn lines a hundred times as if you were some damn actor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can’t for the life of you stop staring at her high heels and gym-toned midriff, showcasing themselves like they were on display.

Your turn comes around, and Arin nods at you to read aloud. You take a deep breath, step forward, and start reading. Your voice is shaky at first but soon, you find your rhythm. Her encouraging looks don’t help, her leg bouncing up and down playfully. Occasionally she’d take her glasses off, chew on the end of them...

Your mind starts to wander into dirty places you'd rather not mention here, but suffice to say, your pants are a little too tight now. It has you stumbling over words when you thought you had it. You force yourself to focus on the text in front of you, but it’s near impossible when she leans in and whispers in your ear.

"Mmm. Getting warmer," she says.

Your voice cracks a little as you try to regain control of your senses but it was no use; you were all hers now. Arin has successfully reduced you to putty in her hands with just one sexy whisper-purr hybrid thing she did so well.

You finish the rest of the reading, and when you look up, you see her staring at you, eyes hooded. It means nothing; you’ve learned this quickly. There’s no truck to be hit by, just the ghost of a promise of one.

You’re in the club later that night, and your balls are ocean/sky/blue-raspberry blue. You down your fourth shot of vodka, determined to forget about it all. There are a lot of girls here. Your friends are going for it. Good for them. They’re all from your old campus, so they would have never met Arin. That adds up.

"You okay, man?" Dongwoo asks, patting you on the back.

You down another shot. "Fine, just fine," you slur.

"She was something, wasn’t she?" he asks, grinning like an idiot. You can only assume he was talking about some girl you must’ve hit on.

"Arin?"

The world tilts on its axis as Dongwoo whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck health. "How do..."

"Long story." You wave him off and order another round, beer this time. "Tell me more."

Dongwoo leans in and starts spilling, but all you can think about is the way Arin looked at you today in class. And how her voice curled itself around your cock like a python around a deer and squeezed just as tightly.

You think about it so much that when you get back to your dorm on campus, stumbling around, world spinning, you make your way to that very lecture hall.

And then you sober up, real fast.

Moans fill the large room. Thick, throaty, oh-god-yes moans.

"Fuck," you gasp, covering your mouth as you peek through a small crack in the door. "She’s..."

Arin, your perfect goddess of a professor, is on the floor, skirt hiked up, glasses askew, as her fingers work in and out like engine pistons.

Your heart pounds as you watch Arin pleasure herself on the lecture hall floor, her soft moans filling the room. She arches her back, her free hand groping her breasts through her silk blouse as her fingers delve deeper. You can't tear your eyes away from the erotic display, mesmerized by the way her body writhes with each thrust of her fingers.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips, and Arin's eyes suddenly lock onto yours through the cracked door. At first, she tenses up, but then, her face softens, and she’s smiling. Then she’s frowning and shaking her head. You know this, understand this, are running through the whole gamut of emotions yourself. You’ve heard the rumors are true, to an extent. She has indeed slept with every professor, male and female, that she’s deemed decent enough. Never crossed a line with a student.

You're frozen in place, unable to move as Arin saunters over to the door, her fingers still wet with her juices. She smells like sex and orchids, two of your favorite things now that you think about it. She closes the door behind you, then laughs at you.

"You smell like booze," she says. She’s wearing that same outfit, the skirt so short you’re ready to go all-in on temperance, whip the ruler out, have her punished for wearing something so scandalous if whatever lord above smite her now, you don’t blame His lightning. Her thighs are a juicy steak—the juice is a trail of something clear.

You look down. "Y-you… you smell like…"

Arin doesn’t know what to do with her hands like how you don’t know what to do with your hands. She also lowers her head. "Fuck. I really, really shouldn’t do this."

Two breaths, heaving, yours and hers.

"You’re right. I’m sorry, Prof—"

She presses her index finger against your lips, and you get a close whiff of her taste. "Why are you apologizing? It’s my fault. And… Arin."

"Can I call you Noona?"

Arin giggles. "Sure."

"Noona," you mumble, your heart in your throat, "I shouldn’t have—"

"Then why are you still standing there? If you’re going to apologize, at least do it right."

"A-apologize?"

Arin rolls her eyes and pulls you toward the seating. When she sits down, your spot, front of the class, she brings you to the floor, where you can see her skirt hiked up even higher. "I was so close, but fine. Apologize for interrupting me by…" She inclines her head toward her wet panties. "You know what to do, right?"

You never thought you’d be kneeling where you pay halfhearted attention to useless studies, but sure, this is church now. Pray. Pray at the altar of the space between Arin’s thighs which heaven envies for lack of same glory, or the idyll garden where the cuff of her socks squeezes the ample flesh. You hesitate, taking in her scent. It’s so much stronger here. So much more Arin.

"Hurry up. Don’t make me regret this." Her fingers in your hair—oh, you won't make her regret this, no, no. You press your lips to her thighs, kissing your way up her inner thighs with a fervor that would make the most devout jealous as you lick-suck-peck at the bare skin and taste the sweat on your tongue, delicious and tangy and a hint of that musky flavor. Oh, she’s been dripping for a while.

Your cock reacts, throbbing in your pants like you haven't had a single drink tonight, as you finally reach the holy of holies.

Arin’s thigh-high clad legs are wrapped around your head, depriving you of basic breath, but you don't care. This is the rapture, and you’d die for her right now and be satisfied. You slide your tongue between her folds, lapping at the nectar she so generously shares as her moans spur you onward. You can hear her panting above you, feel her rocking into your mouth in time with your ministrations. She tastes better than any woman you've ever been with, salty like the sea and as sweet as honey.

"Fuck," she gasps, and you faithfully redouble your efforts. Her grip tightens on your hair as she grinds against your face, and it’s a miracle you don’t pass out from oxygen deprivation or an erection that won't quit. "Yess," Arin hisses, her heels digging into the ground.

"Fuck!" Her juices flood your mouth in a tidal wave of orgasmic release as you swallow every drop like a good little student. She squeezes your face tightly between her thighs, forcing every last drop out of her before finally letting go with a shudder.

"Fuck…" she breathes out, combing her fingers through your hair. "That was unexpected."

Arin blushes, and you smile into her crotch. Reluctantly, you pull away, then return to your seat as Arin adjusts her skirt and glasses, straightening her hair. As you lean back on your heels, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, proud and embarrassed by your performance."Did I do good, Noona?"

Arin laughs out a low and throaty sound. "Oh, you did more than good. But I think it's my turn to apologize now."

"Why?" you ask.

She smiles slyly, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to your feet. "Because I've been teasing you all night." Arin leans in, her warm breath dancing over your ear. "And I’m not one to leave a task half-finished."

Led by the hand, you follow her into her office, leaving the empty classroom behind. The door closes with a resounding click, sealing you both inside. So this is where the real lesson begins.

The office is a complete one-eighty from the cold, sterile environment of her classroom. You didn’t realize it before, too focused on her to see anything else. Warm, rich colors greet your eyes, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. Arin's desk is a sea of piled-up papers and knick-knacks, but she clears a space for you as she pushes them aside.

"Sit," she commands, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of her desk at as she locks the door behind you with an audible click. The sound of the lock engaging sobers you up at once.

Arin, your professor, just had her way with your mouth and now you're about to... what? Your mind reels with possibilities as she saunters around the room, slackening her black tie and unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Each button revealed another inch of porcelain skin, bared for your hungry eyes only. Her dress shirt hangs loosely on her now, just like her tie, and now you can see how her lace panties match her bra. You wonder if this was all planned or a serendipitous coincidence. Arin shimmies out of her panties, then turns around, which lifts her skirt just enough to show off her ass. Arin’s ass is a sort of cryptozoological being that earns hushed whispers at the end of lectures—did you catch the crease of her cheeks when jumped to pull down the blackboard, or did you see how it jiggled when she jumped to pull the blackboard down? But here, in the bare flesh, with its goosebumps and every trajectory, a hushed whisper is too quiet for Loch Ness or Bigfoot’s more famed sight. Her ass makes your mouth water. It makes the desert water. The sun waters. If there were a shape to describe it… yet circle, then perfect, then slappable each inch ever closer to an apt description as apt as the appleness of oranges—now there’s another inch closer: Arin’s ass is juicy. Yet, you can’t even render anything above mute: porcelain skin glowing in the dim light and that pussy... that enticing wetness between her legs, glistening with arousal.

"You must be hard," she says, academic, as though stating fact off a lecture slide or textbook.

You might not graduate with any particular honors on your diploma. Where is honor or prestige and how could it be written down: you have your professor on her knees under her desk, grasping tight on your cock; this can't go in the transcript. (Magna cum loudly—that’s how. If it were not written, lest the porn titlers monopolize this for themselves.)

"You don't know the half of it," you say, and she smirks because she knows more than you, with the proof in her fingers, uncoiling you free.

Digits that hold red pens and chalk and sheaves of paper are now working their magic on your straining erection, already at full mast, but here the flag might fly further such that flagging no longer can belong to that cloth the flaps in the wind because it would not be so accurate a description. Arin watches you squirm, her eyes glinting with mischief and something else you can't quite place. Pride, maybe? As if she's always known this day would come and has been waiting for it.

You're so hard her grip doesn't even feel particularly tight, but when she looks up at you through those glasses, that impassive facade in tatters? That is the tightest leash your heart has ever worn. Her lips are a soft pink, colors you might see on her dress on occasion, and she parts them—the colors you see are a hot white flash, how did she get you down so quickly, and good lord if he were good you’d need his help to last. There is no way she’s this skilled at this unless she’s been practicing like it’s a side job. Her head bobs up and down, each movement accompanied by a moan that vibrates along your cock. She looks up at you through her glasses, more spit on them now, impassive as a hurricane. You make eye contact; it’s all you can do to avoid cumming right then and there, however paradoxical since her glare is saying all you need to hear. Don’t cum. Don’t cum or I fail you. Don’t cum or you’re punished—well, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Releasing and letting out a sharp gasp, Arin lets your erection flop into your stomach, spit-messy and begging. "Good boy. You pass."

As all she speaks, this too is a truth: you pass—into the next life—no time to process how she rips open a packet of latex with her teeth, places it into your length with her mouth, pushes you down onto the desk, one knee on either side of your thighs as she hovers over you.

"I’ve wanted this," she says, grinding against your tip, "since the first day you walked into my class."

"Oh, really, professor?" you manage to croak out, and damn it all if she doesn’t laugh, sexy and low in her throat.

"Don’t call me that right now." Arin sounds so stern saying that, stern like you've never heard her before. Then, in a smooth motion, she sinks herself down, takes all of you in one go, and moans out "fuck me" not nearly so severe. Her inner heat grips you more than the condom could hope, and her soft groans and profanity drain the office of its dry air as if it were never there. Well, the draining is less the sound, and the dry less the extant, both because of what surrounds your cock.

You hold on for dear life as Arin rides you like she's trying to break something, but with no handles to save you, nor any mercy in her movements—up, down, side to side, her black tie and open shirt flapping about—you can only grip her hips and hope to keep up. It’s nothing new for how new it is. This is just like how she treats you, how she treats the class. Just like the rumors. She’s in charge, knows what she’s doing when she has you under her—the metaphorical thumb becomes the literal body; the pretense becomes past tense—and fuck, her body.

The sounds of slapping aren’t your work (yet); that’s her thick thighs and ass smacking against your crotch, hard enough to make her pleated skirt fly wildly. Then, her adorable tits, clad in that black lace, call out to you, have you leaning your head forward in some desperate maneuver to capture them in your mouth.

"Touch me." Arin guides your hand to where she's dripping wet, where her clit throbs impatiently. She arches her back at the simplest circle your fingers can manage, and you’re feeling more at home here, less regret. You’re also palming at her breasts over cloth, and she abates her rhythm to unclasp her bra, letting you have a taste of her nipples, firm and delicious in your gentle teeth and lips. That’s another handle, her breasts a needy handful to be kneaded.

You don’t have the right to command your professor, nor the will. The closest thing to a request is how you grab her loose tie, earning a pleasured squeal, and a harder ride. Hard enough her glasses might fall off. As always, she knows you and your wishes, no need for words: nails dig into your thighs, fingers run through your hair, hands explore all over your body. The touch sends you way too close to tripping off a cliff in a car crash that ends in explosion that might fill latex to its brink, so you do end up with a command, albeit expressed physically as you grab her waist to peel her off you.

When she pouts, she truly looks more like the schoolgirl in your fantasies than the professor who has your graduation at ransom. And how is it that you're the one with any sort of leverage in this situation? Maybe you can tell by her eyelids, falling close, mouth, falling open. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. You flip her over onto her stomach, pressing her into the cool, smooth surface of her desk with a resounding thud. She whimpers, arching her back and presenting her still-slick pussy to you like an offering. But instead of sliding your cock inside right away, a recipe for disaster and early nights, something else calls out to you. Her asshole, like a forbidden fruit, beckons you to your knees, and you spread her cheeks apart, flipping her skirt up and bringing her tight entrance into full view of your face.

You start with a kiss on the pale skin. "May I? Noona?"

She giggles, no semblance of a mind in the airy noise. "Please."

Continuing with more pecks, tender and loving on her beautiful behind, some kisses along her thighs where they’re squished by thigh-highs, then you get closer and closer until your mouth is around her asshole. While you undertook this sabbatical to let your furious erection and imminent orgasm simmer down, the first taste of your tongue inside of her ass does no favors for your arousal. Tangier, saltier, and hotter than you could have imagined, Arin's tightness envelopes your tongue in a way that makes you groan, the vibration resonating through her. Her fingers grab at the edge of the desk as she moans out your name, or maybe it's "fuck" and "yes," but either way, you know you've struck gold.

You lace your fingers through her folds while you deepen your one-sided French kiss, tonguing her anal passage.

"Oh, god. Yes, right there!" she squeals between pants, rocking her hips back and forth.

As much as you'd love to continue this exquisite torment, there are other needs to attend to. Withdrawing your tongue from her ass, you see a strand of her pussy juice connecting her thigh gap. You stand up, lining up your latex-covered length with her cunt. "Ready for me, Noona?" you ask, though you already have the slick cheat sheet answer on your fingers.

As you press your hardened cock against the velvet folds of her intimacy, you position yourself to plunge into her waiting warmth. However, instead of granting that eager penetration, you ruthlessly tease her entry with the rugged tip before pulling away prematurely. As though left bereft in a hollowness only your presence could fill, she instinctively chases after your ghostly retreat. She gasps out impatient words underscored by carnal desperation, "Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!"

The sharp crack of your palm on her round ass cheek echoes in the small office. A blossom of pink blooms on her fair skin.

Bunching her cheeks apart with strong fingers, you terminate all playful actions as snug heat engulfs your cock.

Each rhythmic thrust into Arin is executed with a savage fervor that serves to claim dominion over every inch of her, to take all semblance of control. Take everything she knows and transform that knowledge into this snapshot crackling sensation that’s reducing her to sobs and groans. Fuck the unspoken implications and the quiet tension built up throughout the school year. You thrust into her like loud is the only path forward, and this path of volume is where Arin follows you. A single tug on her makeshift ponytail prompts her grip at the edge of her desk, and whimpers turn to screams, screams that might hazardously fill the hallways. When she glances over her shoulder, you can see her whole face pleasure-wracked. It takes one or two more plunges for her to surrender completely, tight contractions traveling rhythmically over your engorged cock. Trembling through spasming ecstasy, her whole body reacts, but especially her substantial thighs. Despite how tight she gets, you don’t stop pumping until she’s flowed through her entire orgasm.

After you pull out into much cooler air (the condom covered in her nectar), Arin recovers from climax with a surprising quickness, bewildered half-laughs at her own highs. "You might be my favorite student now."

Even though she says it playfully, you still take it to heart, feeling a delighted warmth in your chest. So you thank her with all sincerity.

Rising to her feet, she takes hold of your erection with a lip-bite. She leads you cockwise toward her window, looking back at you through her glasses with a smirk that steals air. One moment she looks cute, the next she’s a succubus, a natural-born seductress.

Once Arin turns around, her palms seize contact with the cool glass window, presenting herself to you for another round. As though framed by the night herself, Arin couldn't be more exposed if she tried. Although it's late at night, the possibility of someone catching sight of Professor Arin, compromised and partially clothed, lingers in your mind. These moments are when and where and how rumors are born. But you refuse to let that hold you back.

Once again, you piston into Arin, fucking her standing. The darkness turns the window into a mirror, reflecting Arin's expressions of pure bliss. Watch the tantalizing bounce of her breasts in her open shirt, the glistening beads of sweat navigating downward across her lithe abdomen, how she’s forced onto tiptoes to thrust right back into you—it’s sensory overload.

You grab each of her wrists and pull them back, getting all the leverage you can to fuck her like a ragdoll manufactured for taking all the punishment you can give, skewering her body to the windowpane with your cock. Her face and glasses push against the window with each firm thrust, and how she’s given into you, it’s time to steer off the edge.

"Gonna fucking cum," you tell her, your hips working at a fiery pace, your pulsating cock gripped over and over by her insatiable pussy.

"Yes! Yes!" At this moment, there is no professor and student, only two creatures consumed by instinct. She is nothing more than a debauched schoolgirl in her uniform (only halfway so), eagerly taking everything you give her. And you give it to her.

Withdrawing just long enough to strip off the barrier between you both, you offer yourself hand-guided satisfaction, as you reward Arin with sticky shots of cum onto her lower back, each dimple and dip soaked by pools of your load. Some of it gets onto her cropped

The two of you laugh as you both stumble back into her desk. She gets tissues and hands them to you, so you clean the evidence.

Steering yourself onto the creaking chair leather, you’re soon joined in cozy proximity by Arin who nestles comfortably into your lap, her head into your neck’s crook.

"So does that mean I get free grades, Noona?"

She slaps your arm—and that familiarity is enough to picture domestic life with her as your partner, the sort of casual delusion she engenders. "Don't even joke about that!" Arin giggles, pretty and unabashed like everything else about her.

You scoff. "That's where you draw the line?"

Displaying rare seriousness, she narrows the gap between familiar lips so close it feels like sharing a breath. "You still smell like soju, you know." Her hand moves up to your hair, taking stock of you in your ruin and bliss. "God, you're so cute. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Well, you did," you point out.

She nods, and nods, and laughs, until nothing separates lips anymore, sealing the context between professor and student, which somehow fits perfectly... like missing puzzle pieces that finally found each other, or a story that’s found its climax in this moment. The intimate tangle in her office chair goes from tongues to jaws to lower and intimate. Arin kisses the muscles of your chest, and you kiss the valley of her breasts.

"Why do you wear stuff like this?" you ask as you hold open her cropped shirt.

"Because I can," she says with all earnestness, and you believe her; it’s just as you figured.

Looking down at her thigh-highs, you tell her, "You know you look like an amateur camgirl."

"Ooh, now that’s an idea." Arin goes for your throat in literal and other ways.

As you make out with the straddling Arin, you return the favor with her own hickey, which you notice at class the next morning. You're proud of the little purple thing there on her skin, the opposite of proud of the whispers they cause. But like all things Professor Arin, these pass. And like all things Professor Arin, she winks, and you too pass.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

#oh my girl smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert

1K notes · View notes

darknight3904 · 4 months

Text

See You in the Morning, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴄʟɪᴍᴀx ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ. ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ᴄʜᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴜᴘ. ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴇxʏ ᴡᴀʏ, ꜱᴀᴅʟʏ.

The first time you met him you were 12. It was only your fourth day at the Capitol's Academy and you wished you could go home and bury yourself in your bed and never return. You had yet to meet anyone interested in being friends with you, the homeschooled freak who started oh so late compared to her peers. Sure, you had met Arachne and Festus at big lavish parties your parents threw but that didn't mean they liked you.

And then, on your fourth day of school, everything changes. Big blue eyes are fixated on the overly large sandwich and fruit bowl that had been in your lunch bag. A soft gurgle of a hungry stomach fills your ears and you turn to see a boy with the prettiest blonde curls atop his head staring at you.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." You ask, picking up a strawberry and holding it out to him.

He hesitates for a moment but eventually reaches out and takes a small bite.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

"I already ate it." He said

Something inside you said he was lying and so you offered the rest of the fruit to him. Your sandwich would be enough for today, after all, no one should go hungry if another had something else to give.

You chat with the boy with blue eyes and pretty blonde curls. His name is Coriolanus Snow and he lives with his Grandma'am and his cousin. You smile at him as he eats the fruit, savoring the taste of the grapes that were mixed in. As you sit beside your new friend, you smile to yourself and hope he'll be your friend tomorrow too.

"You're not leaving. I won't let you."

Coriolanus knows how bad it sounds. He knows you're angry when you go to step around him and he blocks your path. Your engagement ring feels like a brick as it sits in his shirt pocket.

"Coryo. Move. I'm going home." You say, determined to get away from him.

Where do you think you're running off to? You have no place in society besides your spot next to him.

"You can't. You have to stay here. With me." He insists, hoping his softer tone will change your silly little mind.

"Please, Coriolanus. Just let me go home for tonight. I'll come back tomorrow. I promise." You whisper.

He hates that. Coriolanus. Why are you calling him that? He's always been Coryo to you why are you changing it now? The way his full name lingers in the air makes his blood boil.

Rage is something that's hard to control. Coriolanus has seen it first hand when the Districts rebelled against the Capitol all those years ago. He saw it Dr. Gaul when Lucy Gray survived her snakes thanks to him. He sees it now, in you as you give him a hard shove to his shoulders and begin moving toward the door.

Rage. That's why he does it. It's something he and so many others can't control. Rage. What a funny concept it is, how it causes someone to think so irrationally.

Truly though, you are to blame for it all. If only you had just talked to him rationally. taking off your ring and throwing a fit, demanding to go home like you're some petulant child who needs a nap.

Perhaps this will change your attitude, after all, you couldn't just run off, he needed you.

There's an ache in the back of your skull when you finally open your eyes. A soft blanket is covering you and the soft scent of apples and cinnamon is wafting through the air.

"This is your favorite, right?"

A voice that used to bring a smile to your face now sends a jolt of fear down your spine as you quickly sit up.

Coriolanus is sitting in a plush-looking chair, with your favorite candle burning on a little side table next to him.

What the hell had he done to you?

"You sat up too quickly. There's some painkillers on the nightstand if you want them." He says

His voice is so calm as you gradually take in your new surroundings.

"Where am I?" You croak, your voice sounds terrible.

"You're still in our mansion. This is the basement. Part of it anyway. Over the past two weeks, I got them to transform a section of it into a room perfect for you." He says, closing the book in his lap.

Weeks? How long had it been since that dinner when you tried to leave? What the hell had even happened? The last thing you clearly remember was shoving Coriolanus and beginning to walk away. Had he hit you with something? But then how did he keep you down for two weeks so he could bring you here?

"You're wondering what happened. I'm not proud of it but I hit you with a serving tray before you could leave."

Your mind briefly conjures up the silver trays that the food you often enjoyed was served on.

"I had a doctor give you injections to keep you asleep until this room was ready. The headache you feel is the hangover from the drugs, not a concussion. I made sure he gave you an exam and he's cleared you from any injuries."

Corionus' explanation is making your brain ache. What the fuck was happening? Why are you in a basement bedroom instead of your normal one? When was he going to let you out? Would he ever let you out?

Your stomach gurgles and you just barely make it to the small garbage can that's sitting on the ground next to the bed.

"Ah, the doctor said vomiting was another side effect. I'm sure it will pass soon." Coriolanus says, unbothered as you heave up whatever gunk he had gotten the doctor to pump into your stomach.

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, wishing for something to take away the burning at the back of your throat.

"Alright. Since you're awake now, I'll be leaving. Lots of meetings today and the arena is nearly ready I just have to approve a few more things." Coriolanus says, standing up and fixing his tie as he begins to walk away.

"Wait." You groan, trying to reach out to him

"I'll be back for dinner. I know how much you love to listen to me talk about my day."

Two months later

There's been a certain warmness about you recently. Perhaps it's the flowers he brought you your maybe the fact that he takes the heavy chain off your ankle when he visits you. He decides it's the latter as he watches thumb through the new books he handed you.

"Do you like them?" He asks

"Yes." You smile as you gently place them on your shelf.

You're so effortlessly pretty, even here, locked away from the sunlight and every inch of society. Here, you're all his, every bit of you hinges on him opening the heavy metal door that keeps you here. It's been so long since you had even tried to argue or fight back against him. Sure, the beginning had been rough, you had thrown things at him and had at one point threatened him with a butter knife but now you we so docile. Almost like he had domesticated a wild animal and now it was trained perfectly.

"Could you bring the little cakes tonight?" You ask

"The ones with the powdered sugar on top?"

You nod as you sit on your bed, stretching out your right ankle which is marked with a heavy bruise from the chain he had to put on you. It wasn't what he wanted but after you tried attacking him when he entered the room on the second day of your enclosure, he knew it was a necessity.

"I'll have the chef make extra. We can eat as many as you like and get fat." He teases

You smile at him but he can see something else behind your eyes.

Sadness.

You remind him of a bird with clipped wings. Freedom so effortlessly in reach but unable to fly to reach it.

If only he could trust you enough to let you back into the main floors of the mansion.

Time passes slowly whenever Coriolanus is gone and it gives you time to think. You were going mad, chained up all day, waiting for him to bring you your meals and sit with you at night. So in an effort to chase your impending insanity away, you thought. You thought about your childhood and if things would be different had you never given Coriolanus that stupid bowl of fruit. Perhaps you'd be head of your father's company now, or maybe you'd be married to some elite capitol man.

Your mind was always racing, overanalyzing every little thing and every little mistake you had ever made.

Perhaps you should've never confronted him about those pictures. If you had just slipped out of the mansion one day what would had happened? Maybe he would've caught you or perhaps you would've made it back to your parents, back to your old life and self.

How naive you had been at that gala years ago, thinking that you didn't need anything but Coriolanus. What a stupid girl you had grown up to be.

The past few weeks had been rough. You had been sucking up to Coriolanus to be let back into the main part of the mansion. You claimed to just want to feel sunlight again. Of course, you also planned on running the moment you had an opening but he didn't need to know that half.

Coriolanus was simply insane, it was a conclusion you had come to after all these long days. Maybe he had always been like this but you were just too blind to see it. Maybe his nice gestures and honey-coated words had disguised the monster that lurked behind those eyes. All you knew was that he was the worst man in all of Panem and here you sat, suffering all because you were his favorite.

"My heart burns for you."

What a load of bullshit.

He stays true to his word and arrives that night for dinner, cakes in hand. Silenced Avoxes serve you your food and Coriolanus sits across from you at the table that had mysteriously appeared one night when you were asleep. The chain on your ankle made an unpleasant sound as you shifted in your seat.

"The salmon is nice, isn't it?" Coriolanus asks as he eats

"Yes, it's wonderful. Very buttery." You say, struggling to find exactly what was good about it.

You didn't want salmon, you didn't really want anything anymore, perhaps you were finally giving into whatever game he was playing by keeping you here.

"I've decided to replace the curtains throughout the mansion. I've found the blue to be a bit ugly. Tomorrow there will be beautiful maroon ones hung." He informs you

You had hand-picked the blue ones, years ago.

"I'm sure they will be beautiful." You say looking down at your lap.

Coriolanus stops chewing and sets his silverware down.

"If you're going to mock me, you shouldn't even open your mouth. You know I hate it when you're full of attitude so why do you still try?" He says

It's a warning. You know it, he knows it.

"I know. I was being serious." You say, "I hope I get to see the maroon curtains soon, Coriolanus."

"Coryo." He corrects, placing a bite of food in his mouth

"Coryo." You parrot.

He smiles, pleased with you.

"You will, soon."

Dinner passes slowly as you finish your salmon to the tune of Coriolanus' talking. Something about the latest games being a wonderful success and that the big finale would be either tomorrow or the next. He suggests you watch on the little TV that sits in the corner, untouched, it was something that was added a week ago, specifically so you could watch the games. You promise to watch and he smiles at you again.

Coriolanus bids you goodnight after dessert. He double-checks your chain before straightening up and gently kissing your forehead.

"Goodnight, darling. I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, Coryo."

The past week had been going nearly perfectly for Coriolanus. Not only had the games been perfect, but you had been impressing him. Sure, a few days ago at dinner you had called him Coriolanus and he nearly lost his cool after he thought you insulted the curtains but that was behind him now.

He had finally concluded that he'd release you from the basement. He missed your presence in the mansion and at the normal dinner table. He wasn't quite sure about letting you have full roam yet, perhaps he'd sedate you during the days and let you walk around at night, when he could personally keep an eye on you before bedtime. The idea of one of the Axoxes watching you didn't sit right, after all, if you ran what would they do? They couldn't even shout for help to bring you back inside.

He was positively giddy as he walked down the many flights of steps that led to where you were. He wanted to show you the greenhouse first. Sure, you had seen it before but the way the roses were blooming recently was simply too good to pass up. He had planted new ones recently too, blushing pink ones that reminded him of you and your warmness to him.

The metal door was cool against his palm as he opened it to reveal your darkened room. The door let out a heavy groan as it shut behind him.

It wasn't uncommon for you to be sleeping when he entered, he often visited during the night and would watch you, as if you were going to disappear. However, this time the darkness confused him. It was the middle of the day, surely you weren't still asleep?

The soft clink of that ridiculous chain filled his ears as he stepped towards the lamp that sat on your shelf.

"Are you hiding from me, darling?" He asked into the darkness, ready to scoop you up and hold you close.

Silence answered his question as his eyes tried to focus on anything.

The softest rustle of fabric fills his ears as he quickly turns to his right. The slightest shimmer of color reaches his eyes, illuminated by what little light wormed its way under the door. It's you, in that sweater you often wore.

"I see you." He says reaching out to what he thinks might be your arm. "What a pretty shade of blue that is. I'll have a designer make a dress in that color for you."

He swears he hears you whisper his name but perhaps it was just in his head as he steps forward.

Coriolanus feels the smile that was on his face drop into his stomach when he hears it again, the rustle of fabric. You were behind him now.

His hands twitch one, then twice, and before he can react, you're there, in front of him again, anger polluting your pretty face.

His lips form your name but it never leaves his mouth. Instead, the cool metal of that chain he had intended on removing was cutting his vocal cords off.

The chain he hated putting on you, the chain you had desperately tried to claw off many times as he watched through a grainy video feed was rapidly wrapping its way around his neck, ready to destroy him.

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ancuninfiles · 25 days

Text

Bite Night

Gif by @astarionposting

18+ MDNI - M/F - Astarion x Tav (Baldur's Gate 3) - Words: 3.6K

Tags: smut, somnophilia (if you squint), non-consensual vampire bites, blood drinking, enthusiastic consent (sex), vaginal fingering, P in v, creampie, mating press, outdoor sex, soft Astarion, sorcerer Tav, nondescript Tav, Aftercare, idealized version of events, no beta we die like cazador

Summary: It has been 3 days since the nautiloid crash. Tav may be the sweetest person that Astarion has ever met. Night falls, and he is overcome with intense feelings of hunger. Tav sleeps alone, peacefully by the fire. He can hear her pulse from the treeline, and it invites him in. Or... could it be more than her pulse inviting him in?

Sorry, Idk how to write summaries. :,)

Read on AO3

Astarion had never met someone like Tav. She was so kind to him, despite their first meeting beginning with him holding a dagger to her throat after having tricked her into thinking he needed help. It was interesting to note that in retrospect, Tav being a sorcerer, could have easily used Shocking Grasp on him while he held her, pinned beneath his blade. She, instead, was oddly compliant.

__________

“I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod.” Astarion cooed

Tav looked up at him with eyes half-closed and eyebrows knitted together, nodding. A look he could only assume was partially caused by the sun beating down on her face. It was as if she completely surrendered to him, going practically limp in his arms, which made him soften his grip slightly.

“Splendid, and now you're going to tell me what you and those tentacle freaks did to me.” he peered down at her, eyes briefly flicking to her neck and then up to her eyes again. Despite her relaxed form, her pulse was quickened and it was distracting. Astarion's mouth started to water slightly.

“I- I didn't do anything… I was abducted, same as you!” She pleaded.

“Don't lie to me. I- AUGH” Astarion yelped, as a purple aura surrounded both him and Tav. Their minds were suddenly connected, he was able to peer into her thoughts and feel what she was feeling.

To his surprise, her mind had been focused on compassion towards him, the man holding a blade to her throat. “He and I have the same problem. These tadpoles. And he is likely reeling after all this. He could be a good ally to have.”

Astarion's mind had then shared broken pieces of his past with Tav. Pieces that he would have rather kept to himself, but nothing incriminating yet. “What was that!? What's going on!?” He raised his voice.

Tav's was panting as if their minds connecting had worn her out. “You saw into my mind, it was the parasites! They connected us.” She said, with her eyebrows still knitted. Her mouth was agape and she took one last big breath before calming her expression.

Her breath smelled of mint, and her hair smelled like lavender. ‘Gods, her scent, her pulse, her expression. Everything is distracting about her.’ he thought to himself.

Although he would have loved to hold her for longer, grab her hair and sink his teeth into her flesh, he decided against it. Feeling confident that she was not a threat, he released her. They maintained eye contact with one another as they both slowly stood up.

‘She wants to be my ally’ he thought to himself.

__________

They had picked up a couple more allies on their misadventure so far. A cleric with an odd name and an annoying wizard who talks too much. Tav seemed naive. She was picking up strays left and right. Were these others to be trusted?

Tav had a way of making everyone feel accepted and comfortable. “If you need anything, please let me know. I don't care if I'm sleeping, reading, or otherwise busy, you can wake me up. I want to help.” she exclaimed to the whole group with an earnest look in her eye. She made sure to look at everyone in their eyes when she said this.

‘Gods, she couldn't be more sweet. So tempting.’ He thought to himself. He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she acted, but no, he had to stop thinking things like that. Even Tav would surely end him if he were to slightly hint at the fact that he was a monster.

Besides, Cazador would most definitely flay him for drinking the blood of a thinking creature. Although, the parasite had granted him immunity from the sun. Maybe Cazador can't control him at all anymore.

__________

It was time to settle in for the night. They had an exhausting day looking for a healer, which they had to fight through a hoard of goblins to get to. It had been 3 nights since the nautiloid crash, and Astarion had already snuck off the previous night to find a boar, which he stupidly left in the middle of the road. Tav and the cleric had fixated on it. The cleric had pointed out that the boar had been left fully intact but without blood. To Astarion's dismay, these stangers were smarter than he initially had thought.

Tav was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep beside the fire, while everyone else left to their tents. She was a powerful ally indeed. Tav and Astarion carried the team, while the wizard was frequently coming within an inch of death and you would have thought the cleric was blind because she missed almost every shot. 'Leave it to Gale to cover the ground in grease and then slip in it and fall prone, himself', Astarion thought.

While everyone was sleeping, Astarion slipped away into a clearing in the woods to have some privacy and decompress after all that's happened, for the first time since the nautiloid crash. Finally able to be alone with his thoughts, Astarion's memories of his master plagued him. It was as if he were there, reciting his rules.

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

'Terrifying. So much for being alone with one's thoughts' Astarion thought. He left the clearing in distress, feeling like he was being stalked by Cazador. 'He can't control me anymore, I can walk in the sun...' Astarion told himself, in an effort to calm himself down. A burning feeling climbed up his throat. He was starving. Exerting himself more than usual was likely to blame. He had to find something to eat, soon.

__________

Astarion made his way back to camp, stopping at the tree line to assess the state of the camp. Sweet Tav was still sleeping soundly by the fire. Sweet Tav's words replayed in his head. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I don't care if I am sleeping". Sweet Tav who had shown him compassion almost immediately after he had pulled a dagger to her throat. Sweet Tav whose breath was minty, whose hair smelled of lavender, and whose pulse sounded so beautiful; hypnotic.

Astarion snuck close enough to Tav to see her throat, so beautifully exposed. An easy target. Tav was wearing nothing but a thin silky nightgown with small flimsy straps. Her supple legs were exposed and glistened in the firelight. The wind blew and her scent wafted into Astarion's face.

This was too much for Astarion to bear any longer. He slowly and stealthily climbed atop Tav, making sure not to wake her. He held his breath, he didn't need to breathe anyway. She was lying on her back, so Astarion slotted his leg between her thighs and placed his left elbow on the ground beside her head. He used his right hand to tilt her chin to the side slowly and gently brush her hair away from her pulse point. 'Formalities' he thought. Astarion slowly lowered his open maw onto Tav's throat. Finally puncturing the skin, blood started flowing into his mouth as he latched on almost like a feral animal. Tav's blood was ambrosia, it tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was sweet, but complex like a fine-aged wine.

He could no longer control himself, he was sure to wake her. He tightly grabbed onto Tav's hair with his right fist and pushed her neck into his lips. It was then that he heard a sweet mewl coming from Tav. 'Of course, she would be moaning when a monster is consuming her.' Astarion groaned into her neck and brought his knee flush up to Tav's core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee. She was enjoying this. A desire started building in Astarion's lower abdomen, causing his cock to strain against his pants.

Astarion continued to take generous gulps of Tav's blood, running his tongue across her pulse point to try and force more blood out, faster. He let loose a primal groan into Tav's throat and then repositioned himself so that his clothed cock was pressing into Tav's exposed cunt. She accommodated Astarion and wrapped her legs around his pelvis with tact and enthusiasm. Tav reached her right hand up to Astarion's curls, but Astarion grabbed her wrist and pinned it beside her head. Tav moaned, but her rutting became slower, as did her pulse.

"Astarion - I" Tav whispered. Astarion finally came to and unlatched his teeth. His brows knitted together as he licked, and pressed his tongue firmly against her wound to soothe Tav and congeal the blood. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck, and then slowly started releasing her wrist, but Tav let out a breathy whine into his ear and grabbed his left hand, lacing her fingers with his. Perplexed, he looked up at Tav with round eyes. She was gazing at their laced hands. Astarion eyed her fresh puncture marks to make sure the bleeding had seized, and then gently tilted her head to face him.

Her eyes were wet and filled with lust. Her chest was heaving, her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils were blown out. "Why did you stop?" Her voice came out breathy, almost a whisper.

Astarion smirked, "Oh, you sweet, generous thing."

Tav's left hand came up to touch Astarion's face in a gentle caress while her right hand was still affectionately connected with his left. She eyed his lips, taking in the blood on his chin and swiping it softly with her thumb. Her eyes fluttered back up to meet his gaze, but he was eyeing her lips as she had his.

Tav's lips were the same colour as her blushing cheeks. They were seductively parted. Astarion's gaze shifted back to Tav's eyes again, as she caressed his face with her thumb. Such a gentle little thing, and after what he had just done to her. He ought to feel shame for taking from her. 'She is so beautiful' he thought. The firelight flickered in her wet, sleepy eyes. Her hair was gorgeously spread amongst her bedroll. She was like an angel, no, a goddess. It was hard to believe she was real, or that someone could even forgive him for what he had done to her, let alone want him to continue. He looked at her with concern in his eyes which were becoming wet themselves.

Tav's hand slithered shakily to the nape of Astarion's neck. "I want you if you'll have me." She smiled earnestly, her eyes curled with her smile like tiny rainbows. She caressed his nape as she did his chin. "Please, Astarion." She sang

His name sounded like a melody on her lips. She was a siren, pulling him in with her song. Pulling him in, to drown in her. Their lips crashed like the waves in the Sea of Fallen Stars. They moaned into each other as their tongues danced around one another's teeth, exploring, and tasting. Astarion didn't want to stop until he had tasted every corner of her maw. Their kiss was bruising and sloppy. Tav made advances with her tongue as well, and she opened her mouth wide enough to let Astarion explore deeply. Her mouth tasted as minty as it smelled, and his mouth tasted like her blood. He paid extra mind to not hurt her with his fangs.

One of her hands tangled in his hair and the other hand rested on his back. He pressed his pelvis closer to her's and he groped her soft flesh with one of his hands, hastily exploring her body and reaching under her nightgown to grab her breast. He pinched her nipple and rubbed it between his fingers. Tav let out a higher-pitched moan in his mouth. He snaked his hands down to her exposed and throbbing core. She was unbelievably soaked. Finally lifting his mouth from hers, he looks at her with a smirk and says "You are positively dripping for me, darling." He started rubbing slow circles on her clit and her back arched, seeking more from Astarion.

She groaned. "I want you inside me, please." Her eyes pleading and her words drifted out in a soft sigh. She was squirming slowly and weakly. The poor thing was so weak from the blood loss.

He peered down at her face which seemed to be blushing more and more, and her skin was now glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Only because you ask so sweetly." He exclaimed before plunging two digits inside of her, working her open. She hummed in a whiney tone, which only egged him on further. His fingers curled up as he patiently started getting her hole ready for his cock. Her mouth opened and her eyes nearly rolled back into her head. She was the most enchanting creature in all of Faerün. He wanted to do anything for her, and he wanted to bury his cock entirely between her legs.

His free hand pushed her nightgown above her breasts, exposing her naked and writing body to the night air. It hadn't occurred to him until then that they were in the middle of camp. The cleric and the wizard could catch them, but Tav seemed unbothered. Astarion had noticed that his senses were much sharper after drinking Tav's blood. He realized he was confident enough that he would hear anyone coming long before they could see anything.

His fingers started to pump into her faster, and he palmed her clit. Her breathing became heavy and jagged. "I'm so close! Astarion!" She moaned his name as her pussy fluttered around his digits. He fingered her through her orgasm, only pulling away when she started to twitch at the touch of her clit. She inhaled deeply and let out a groan. Her head fell back and her breasts rose and fell with each exasperated breath. "Hmm, you are wonderful, Astarion." She hummed with a bright smile on her face.

Astarion crept up to meet her eyes with his, "You're unbelievably beautiful." He said sincerely. She looked up at him with her pleading eyes again. He brushed her hair with his fingers and admired her features. He brought her into a molten kiss that both burned and bruised their lips. His hand caressed her naked torso, gripping her in every place he could before landing his strong grasp on her ass. Their kiss flew apart and she let out an exceptionally whiney moan and looked down to where his clothed cock was.

His cock was beginning to strain unbearably against his pants. He expertly unlaced his trousers and his large member sprang free, glistening with precum. He glanced down at her soaking core, her thighs were covered in her cum. He hooked her knees over his biceps and he teased her entrance with his cock. He groaned and exhaled, and looked at her face so he could read her expressions. Her brows scrunched in anticipation.

"Hmmm please fuck me. I want you to fill me up so bad." she sobbed and clenched her jaw.

Astarion groaned "I love it when you plead for me, little love. Your voice sounds so sweet. Please tell me if you want me to stop, can you do that for me?"

She bit her lip and looked him in the eye, again with that sweet look on her face. "Mmhm" she nodded.

He didn't need any more confirmation from her as he slowly sunk his cock into her hole. Her mouth opened slightly and she started breathing heavier. He pulled out all the way and stroked her wetness onto his shaft. He sunk back down into her languidly until he finally was fully inside. He grunted at the feeling, and she was breathing heavier than ever. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were wet.

"Are you okay, sweet love?" He said with concern as he stilled inside her.

"Mmm yeah. You're just - so big, I've never had someone -reach into me so deeply. It doesn't - hurt, I promise" she spoke softly. Panting throughout her sentence. "It feels, so good" she whined.

His cock twitched at her enthusiasm and she moaned quietly. "Oh darling, I am going to fill you right up," he said as he pulled back and then snapped his hips into her. He leaned down to her and stroked her cheek as he kissed her jaw. "Precious." He whispered in her ear.

He began rutting into her at a consistent pace. She pulled his shirt up to feel more of his skin against hers. She was so warm compared to him, her aura engulfed him like the fire they lay next to, consuming the carbon in a flickering rage. She was so tight, and warm, and wet. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last, but he knew he wanted to make her cum one more time before he finished.

He reached down to her clit, and started rubbing tight quick circles. She moaned between her teeth and the muscles in her legs tensed. Her mouth fell agape and she started panting beautifully. "That's it, good girl. Cum on my cock."

His words were enough to send her over the edge, and her cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock. He fucked her through her orgasm, only stopping his attention on her nub when she was pulling away. He readjusted her legs atop his shoulders, and her knees were practically beside her head. He was able to reach deeper in her than before, and his cock was hitting her sweet spot at a perfect angle.

"Do you want me to fill you with my cum, darling? Is that what you want?" He teased as he fucked her mercilessly.

"Yes!" She begged, "Please, I need you to fuck your cum into me!"

Her lewd suggestion sent him toppling over into his own climax, and he pressed himself deeply into her folded form. Groaning as his head fell to her side, he placed chaste kisses on her neck where he had bitten earlier. She could feel his cock twitching deep inside her, his spend spurting on her walls and dripping down her ass. He pulled out a few inches and then slammed back into her again, stuffing his cock into her deepest depths, making sure that her desires are met and that his seed has thoroughly coated every corner of her tight, quivering hole.

They stayed connected for many long moments and then eventually they both rolled over to lie on their sides, facing one another. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. Astarion pulled his pants back up, and Tav lay sleepily with her flesh still exposed. "This won't do." He said as he scooped her up with his arms.

"Oh!" She squeaked, as Astarion carried her bridal style to his tent.

He lay Tav down on his bedroll. "One moment, love, I will be right back!" He said with newfound energy.

Astarion searched for one of the most soft fabrics that he had kept for future sewing projects. He found the silky red cloth and he soaked it with water from the river. It was cold, but it will have to do. He made long strides back to his tent to find Tav, who was almost sleeping.

"This is going to be a bit cold, little bird." He cooed. He then ran the damp cloth along her most vulnerable parts. She hummed sleepily and smiled as he slowly cleaned her up with seemingly the highest degree of care. He then took the same cloth and cleaned himself up briefly.

The night was warm, but Tav, being alive, was more susceptible to the temperature. He only had his brown boyish blanket in his tent, so he quickly went to Tav's tent and snagged all of her pillows and blankets to bring them back to her in his tent. She was like a sleepy doll. He propped her head up on the softest pillow and covered her body in the warmest blankets. She sleepily hummed with glee, and Astarion looked at her snuggled up in the blankets, admiring his handiwork.

He changed into a fresh set of night clothes and then joined her under the blankets. He faced her and affectionately brushed his fingers across her cheek and under her ear. His palm rested on her cheek and his thumb stroked her cheekbone. He would speak to her about all this in the morning, and apologize for feasting upon her like a ravenous beast; but for now, she was in his arms and he felt an unyielding desire to take care of her. She nuzzled into him and kissed his hand. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. She turned around so her backside was facing him. She scooted back to connect with him. His touch was soothing and cool against her under the warm blanket. He froze for a moment at the overwhelming affection, and then he fell into her and held her tight.

He didn't know exactly what these feelings were, but he knew that this was nice.

They both closed their eyes, and Tav fell into a deep sleep. Astarion began to trance. He didn't know it yet, but this would be the best trance he would have in 200 years.

Author notes:

HEY. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I actually haven't really ever written anything before, and I don't plan on writing anymore. It took a really long time, and it was way harder for me than I thought. The number of times I had to look at synonyms. Ffs... lol. But YEAH. I actually don't have much of an interest in writing anyways so it's all good. Srsly kudos to any of you who are writing fics, especially the lengthy ones. I have no idea how you do it. Every paragraph is a brain fart for me. Please don't mind any mistakes. I used grammarly, and I TRIED MY BEST LOL. ANYWAYS, LOVE YOU, SMOOCHIES.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion pov #astarion fluff

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serpentandlily · 4 months

Text

The Crow's Poet - Azriel x Reader

The Crow’s Poet - Azriel x Reader

Summary: All of Azriel's attempts to get his mates attention are ignored and he realizes he was going to have to…resort to poetry, something he thought he’d never have to do.

Warnings: none

a/n: based on this request!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“He’s hiding something,” you muttered.

The masks he wears slips when the doors close.

“He wears masks? How odd.”

You chewed on your thumb, contemplating why that would be important information.

He cries himself to sleep after he leaves the witch’s room.

“But he was a monster before we were even trapped down here,” you whispered, thinking about your High Lord and the times he had deigned to visit Hewn City.

He is a master of secrets.

“If you say so,” you scoffed under your breath. Apparently a master of wearing masks. Maybe it was his own way of mocking Tamlin.

“Y/n?” Yara, one of the other servants, called out as she opened the kitchen doors. “Who are you talking to?”

The second the door had swung open your two shadow crows had disappeared, leaving you alone in the corridor. Your cheeks turned red and you stood, rubbing the back of your neck.

“U-uh,” you stuttered. “Myself?”

She rolled her eyes before grabbing you by the sleeve and yanking you back inside the kitchen. “Do you have to be such a weirdo all the time?”

Embarrassment crawled through you at her words. But it wasn’t the first time you had been called weird, or strange, or off-putting. You were a freak in the eyes of many.

Your entire life had been spent in a tiny room in your father’s home in Hewn City, shackled to the wall. Because you had been sheltered during your childhood, you had never developed any social skills like the other daughters of Lords.

You didn’t grow up alongside your peers. The only thing you had in that room with you were the shadows. Shadows that began to take the form of crows.

At some point, they had started talking to you. And you had started talking back. But you were certain you had gone crazy—that you had lost your mind. So you kept it a secret to this day.

Your father hardly let you out anyways, claiming that he needed to keep you pure for when he would offer you up to some Lord for marriage once you were of age. But that day never came because Amarantha had shown up and trapped you all under this mountain.

You were only sixteen when it happened but almost forty years had passed since then. So you had been a prisoner your whole life, essentially. At least down here you had some freedoms to roam about.

Later that night, you found yourself growing more curious about your High Lord after what your shadows had told you. So you mustered up a cocoon of them and used them to slip through walls and doors until you found yourself in the corner of the High Lord’s chambers.

You hid in the shadows, waiting for his return. Mainly out of pure curiosity and boredom. There was only so many times you could play chess against your crows before you lost all interest in it.

The door swung open and the High Lord stalked in, muttering to himself as he did. He slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump a bit in the shadows. You watched as he undid his coat, tossing it onto the bed. His fingers found the buttons of his shirt and your face turned red.

You were ready to disappear in the shadows again, not wanting to watch him undress, when he paused suddenly and sniffed the air. You watched curiously as he twisted in place, examining each corner of his room.

But he couldn’t see you. Not while you were the shadows, right?

Wrong.

His hand was around your throat before you could blink and he yanked you right out of the shadows. You choked in surprise, your eyes widening to full circles. He snarled at you, darkness beginning to drip off every inch of him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Rhysand growled. “And what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

He loosened his grip on your throat enough for you to answer.

"N-No one. I'm no one," you squeaked out, grasping at his wrist with your hands.

Rhysand examined the shadows around you that began to form into the familiar crows. He raised an eyebrow. "A shadowsinger? But I thought...Interesting."

Shadowsinger? You had never heard of the term before.

"A shadow what?" you exclaimed. "I don't sing!"

Rhysand ignored your outburst, glaring at you. "Who sent you here to spy on me? Who are you working for?"

"No one," you gasped. "I'm not working f-for anyone. The shadows told me y-you, um, liked to wear masks and I thought that was a bit odd so I wanted to see for myself."

Rhysand looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads. But his hand loosened a bit more so you kept talking, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth. "Speaking of, I-I, uh, don't see any masks in here. Where do y-you keep them?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The masks?" you stammered. "Like I said...the shadows said you wear them and everything--"

"I don't—" Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He finally let you go and you slid down the wall, panting for air. 'What court are you from?"

"Yours," you answered, before your eyes widened again. "Oh Gods, am I supposed to bow to you? How does this work? I've never—"

"Stop. Just...stop," Rhys murmured. His face was stuck in thought. He stroked his jaw, staring down at you. "You're from the Court of Nightmares?"

You nodded in answer.

"Another shadowsinger in my court and I was unaware. Why haven't I learned of you until now?"

"I don't sing!" you squabled. "No one knows about my shadows...except you now, I guess."

A grin bloomed on Rhysand's face, one full of deadly intent as he studied your smaller form on the floor at his feet. "No one else knows about your shadows? Not even your family?”

You shook your head, staring up at him with wide eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over in deep thought before he chuckled to himself. That did truly alarm you and you rose cautiously.

“I think you and I are going to be good friends, little shadow. Very good friends."

And that was how you started working for Rhysand. The next ten years were spent with the High Lord, doing whatever he requested of you, which was usually spying on those under the mountain. The two of you developed an unlikely friendship with each other.

When Feyre came along and finally released you all, Rhys brought you home with him, offering you an official job in his court. Not wanting to return to your father, you were more than happy to accept.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel had been relieved when his brother had finally returned to them after forty-nine years apart. Relieved and then intrigued as he spotted the small figure peeking out from behind Rhysand with her big doe eyes. Rhysand had brought a little pet home with him, apparently. A little shadow as he affectionately called her.

He was taken aback by her once she had finally stepped out from behind Rhys. She was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He hardly noticed the crow perched on her shoulder, so taken by her beauty.

His shadows had danced along his shoulders at the sight of her and he didn’t quite know what to make of their behavior until Rhys finally introduced you to the family.

Another shadowsinger.

Someone just like him.

He couldn’t lie. A million emotions had rushed through him at that moment but the most prominent one was a sort of instant affinity towards you. His own shadows had swirled around your crows, like even they found comfort in knowing there was someone else in the world that was like them—like him.

Later that night, as he watched you ascend up the stairs to your new room, you glanced over your shoulder at everyone one last time. Your eyes met his and the air was knocked out of his lungs like someone had landed a heavy blow to his sternum.

The one thing he had been dreaming of, hoping for, came to life. The mating bond snapped into place, a long golden string tying you to him. But you hadn’t faltered a step, merely turned around and retired to your room.

The bond hadn’t snapped for you, but that wasn’t alarming. It usually took a while for the female to feel it. In his panic, Azriel had dropped his mental shields and practically screamed his thoughts to Rhys about what had just happened.

Rhys was already planning on having Azriel give you lessons on your magic. It only made sense. He was over five hundred years old with more knowledge about his shadows than you at the young age of sixty-five. So he began his plans to push the two of you together.

For Azriel, it was like hitting two birds with one stone. He would train you on how to use your shadows more effectively and in turn, would also be spending time around you. Which would lead you to realizing the bond between you and him and hopefully, hopefully, you would be just as overjoyed about it as he was.

Azriel wasn’t conceited by any means, especially considering the nasty state of his hands, but he had gotten quite used to females and males falling at his feet for his attention.

You, however, seemed entirely unmoved by his appearance. Every subtle hint he tried to drop was ignored or just not noticed by you. You didn’t notice him when he sat next to you at dinner, didn’t ogle him when he took off his shirt during training, didn’t admire his wings when he sunned them while you were outside in the gardens.

Everything he did to try to capture your attention failed.

You were making him feel flustered—he was not used to having to put so much effort into chasing after others. Normally he was the one being chased.

Leave it to the Mother to gift him with a mate who was so utterly unaffected by his presence. On one hand, he enjoyed it. You never seemed afraid of him, never looked at his hands with disgust or pity. But on the other hand, you never seemed to notice him the way he wanted you to.

The war came and went, leaving him to realize he was going to have to change tactics with you. He was going to have to court you. He was going to have to…resort to poetry—something he never thought he’d have to do.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were reading a book in the River House’s main sitting room, waiting for dinner to start. It was another family dinner night and everyone who didn’t currently live at the River House would likely be coming sometime soon.

So when the door opened and closed, you didn’t bat an eye. Didn’t even turn around as you heard footsteps coming down the foyer to where you sat. Not until someone cleared their throat behind you.

You twisted around on the settee to see Azriel standing in the archway with a bundle of flowers in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he needed.

“Good evening, Y/n,” he said, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

A bit of anxiety began to climb up your throat, a common feeling whenever someone approached you. You still were not used to socializing with others, still hadn’t quite gotten used to even having people other than Rhysand want to talk to you.

“Hi,” you squeaked, closing your book shut a bit too hard. You winced at the noise.

He strided over to you, his wings tucked tight behind him like he was nervous. Even his shadows seemed to buzz around the air more frantically than normal.

“I brought these for you,” he said, holding out the flowers to you.

You blinked, looking between him and the flowers in confusion. What did he expect you to do with those?

You hesitantly reached out and took them from him, smiling awkwardly. The flowers were beautiful, the petals a soft silver, almost glowing like the moon.

“Oh, um, thank you?” You choked out the words, rising from the settee. You tucked your book against your chest like it would shield you from him.

He frowned a bit. “Do you…not like them?”

“N-no!” You stuttered. “No, I mean y-yes! Um, thank you. Again.”

“You're welcome,” he said with a tiny nod. Azriel’s lips twitched upwards, like you had just said something funny.

“I'm gonna go, um, do something with these.”

You brushed past Azriel before he could respond and scurried from the room, your heart pounding in your chest. The others still made you nervous but not quite like Azriel did. It was his presence alone that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“What the heck does he want me to do with these?” You hissed to your shadow crow who landed on your shoulder.

Perhaps he wants you to plant them in the garden with the other flowers.

You smacked your head with your book. “Oh my gods, duh! Why didn’t I think of that?”

You still had thirty minutes until dinner so you made your way outside to the gardens. You peered around, looking for an empty spot of dirt, which was hard because of all the work Elain had done out here.

You finally spotted one and set your book down on the metal wire table outside. When the weather was nice enough, sometimes Feyre and Rhysand would host dinners out here, at this table.

You scuttled over to the edge of the stone path and knelt on the ground. You began digging a small hole, unsure of how deep you were supposed to go.

You were so concentrated on your efforts that you failed to notice the people who began to come out from the back door.

You placed the stems of the flower in the hole, pushing some dirt around so they stood up straight.

“Y/n? What on earth are you doing?” Feyre exclaimed from behind you, causing you to jump in fright.

You looked over your shoulder to see nearly the entirety of the Inner Circle, all taking seats at the table behind you.

You stood up, wiping your dirty hands on your skirt.

“Azriel wanted some flowers planted,” you shrugged, looking towards the male who was now staring at you with total bewilderment on his normally unreadable face.

He blinked and then shook his head, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“What?” Cassian blurted out.

You looked between everyone, not sure why they were so confused. Was it not normal to bring someone flowers to plant?

“He brought me some flowers,” you explained slowly, “to plant out here.”

Rhys reached out and ruffled the hair on the top of your head, fondly, as he held back his laughter. Several of them shared a look, lips pressing together like they were stopping themselves from laughing. All except Cassian who looked at Azriel and then tossed his head back, cackling with amusement.

It was Mor who took pity on the shadowsinger.

“That was very nice of you, Azriel,” she said, smoothly, kicking Cassian under the table.

“Yeah,” Cassian said in between his struggles to stop laughing. “How nice of you, Az.”

Later that night, Nesta had pulled you aside to offer you a book.

“Read this,” she had said. “I think it’ll help.”

She left the book in your hands with a wink.

You stayed up all night reading the book—blushing red at some of the words written on the pages. But when you got to the part where the male love interest brought the girl flowers, you were mortified.

Azriel had given you those as a gift…to put in a vase, wherever you pleased. The girl had put them on her nightstand in the book.

But that didn’t make sense to you because Azriel was your friend. He wasn’t interested in you like that. But maybe, friends also brought friends flowers? The whole thing confused you and you went to bed that night utterly perplexed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Come on,” Azriel encouraged, his arms around your neck, pulling your back tight against his front. “I’ve taught you how to get out of this hold.”

You were currently having a one-on-one combat lesson with Azriel, something you two had been doing for awhile. He had suggested it to you after you started training with the Valkyries and you agreed, a part of you wanting to spend more time with him.

You liked Azriel and even though he made you feel a little more uncomfortable than the others, you had taken to him. It wasn’t that the feelings were bad, necessarily. It was just, he made you feel all tingly inside and that often made you flustered around him.

You grabbed a hold of his wrists like he had taught you, pulling them away from your neck as you got one leg behind his. You knew what he wanted you to do from here, but you wanted to surprise him for once. Wanted to catch him off guard.

Your crows squawked their encouragement from the sidelines.

“What are they telling you?” Azriel asked, suspiciously. His breath tickled the tip of your pointy ear, making your body shudder. You could’ve sworn his tensed in response.

“Nothing,” you chimed, innocently.

And then you swept his legs out from under him, ducking out of his hold in his confusion and shoving him in the back so he fell face forward onto the mat. You pounced after him, landing with your knees around his hips, pressing your hands down on his shoulder blades between his wings so he couldn’t get up.

“Got you!”

Azriel’s body vibrated with his chuckle. “Oh, you think so?”

He bucked you off of him, causing you to squeal, as he turned himself over and flipped your positions, leaving you on your back under him. He smirked at you, some of his fluffy dark brown hair dangling down on his forehead, almost touching yours.

“Got you,” he drawled.

"No fair," you pouted, crossing your arms under him.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach at the feeling of his body against yours. You sent a crow after him, pecking him on the back of the neck, to get him to move, unsure of how long you could handle that feeling without saying something stupid.

He sat up on his haunches, batting it away with a glower at you. "What's not fair?"

"You're not fair! You weigh the same as a horse," you grumbled. "I bet you eat rocks for breakfast, you big bat."

He chuckled, standing up and reaching his gloved hand out to help you up. "I assure you, I do not eat rocks...not for breakfast, at least."

So he did eat rocks? How odd, you thought. But if chefs could make turnips taste good, maybe they could make rocks edible? Maybe like a rock soup or tiny pebble croutons. Did all Illyrians eat rocks?

Once you were up, Azriel began to smooth out your hair. The gesture felt intimate and you blushed a bright pink. He seemed to notice, judging by the slight smile on his face. You frowned at him.

"Come on, don't be a sore loser," he teased, putting a hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the water station. "Our time today is up, anyways."

"How convenient for you," you murmured under your breath, causing him to laugh again. Your crows flew a lap around the training ring, as if the noise delighted them. It may have delighted you as well.

His hand moved around your waist until it dipped down to grab your own hand. “Allow me to make it up to you?”

“How?” You glanced up at his towering figure.

“Let me take you to dinner,” he said, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Tonight.”

“O-oh, okay,” you stammered out.

He smiled, exposing the small dimple on the right side of his cheek that made him look more boyish than normal. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

He pulled you closer to him and a second later, you were engulfed in shadows, only to reappear on the doorstep to the River House.

“Good.” He dropped your hand finally and you clutched it to your chest. “I’ll come get you at seven.”

You nodded, feeling a bit breathless and he dipped his head at you before disappearing into the shadows and leaving you and your pounding heart alone on the doorstep.

Dinner that night felt like a dream. Azriel had shown up right on time, waiting for you in the foyer of the River House. He took you to a small restaurant on the side of the Sidra and you spent most of the night admiring the way he looked under the faelights.

Had he always been so beautiful?

You couldn’t remember.

After dinner, Azriel had taken you on a walk near the river. The moonlight reflected off the dark water, lighting the path. You stumbled upon a cool looking rock and eagerly picked it up, holding it out for him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, taking the rock from your hand.

“Your dessert,” you exclaimed, closing his fingers around the rock before stepping back.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed and you decided you liked the way he looked when he was confused.

“Earlier, you said you didn't eat rocks for breakfast.” You rubbed at your arm. “So that must mean you eat them at some point of the day. So I thought, maybe you save them for dessert?”

By the time you were done talking, Azriel’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline. You were surprised when a barking laugh exploded out of him, your cheeks turning pink. You hesitantly smiled, not quite sure why he was laughing but loving the sound of it anyways.

“I take it you, um, don’t eat rocks?” You smiled sheepishly.

“That was a joke, Y/n,” he laughed, his hazel eyes shimmering gold and green.

“Y-yeah, of course it was!” You tried to play it off but you couldn’t hide your embarrassment.

He put the rock in his pocket as his laughter settled down. He placed both hands on the side of your head, kissing your forehead as he mumbled with affection, “What are we going to do with you?”

“Hopefully nothing bad,” you squeaked.

Azriel shook his head again with a soft laugh, grabbing your hand and guiding you further down the path. “I can’t believe you really thought I ate rocks.”

“I-I didn’t!”

He only gave you a disbelieving look.

It had almost felt like a date…like the ones you read about in the books Nesta leant you. But you quickly drowned out those thoughts. Azriel was your friend. And he had taken you out tonight as a favor.

But by the time he returned you home, there was a new light inside of you. Like a song with a familiar melody that made every nerve inside of you sing to its tune.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Unfortunately, Azriel was sent on a mission not too long after the night you shared together but he had promised to write to you during the three weeks he would be gone.

You found yourself quite eager to receive them.

Little shadow, I’ve got something for you. Come to my office when you’re free.

Rhys’s voice had you setting down the dagger you had been sharpening. You sent a crow to his office, curious to know what he had waiting for you.

A letter, master.

You jumped up from your desk. It must be a letter from Azriel because you had no idea who else would be writing you.

Tell your crows to mind their own business. They’ve ruined the surprise.

You laughed to yourself as you let your shadows cocoon you and take you to Rhys’s office. You stepped out of the shadows and Rhys raised an eyebrow at you.

“Eager?” He seemed amused.

You scowled at him. “You have a letter for me?”

He nodded, picking up an envelope off his desk and holding it out for you to take. You grabbed it, recognizing the handwriting your name was written with on the front immediately.

“Would you like to tell me why my Spymaster is sending me letters for you with his mission updates, little shadow?”

Rhys’s violet eyes sparkled with stars as he waited for your reaction. Your face turned pink and you clutched the letter to your chest. “Mind your own business, Rhys,” you mocked him.

He held up his hands with a grin that told you he already knew exactly why Azriel was sending you letters. You summoned your shadows to take you back to your room.

“Hey! Where are you going? You’re not going to let me read it too?” Rhys called out.

“No!”

Rhys’s chuckled followed you the whole way back to your room.

You tore open the envelope once you were in privacy, unfolding the letter with shaky hands.

Dear Y/n,

I find my days feel slower without the joy of your company. Even my shadows seem to miss their pesky crow companions.

You blushed, feeling your crows swirl around your head as if they too were swooning. Your eyes rapidly read the rest of the letter as he mentioned tiny tidbits about the mission and how it was going, asking you if you were keeping up with your training and teasing you about settling your score with him once he returned.

A smile had bloomed on your face as you finished reading—your heart fluttering in your chest.

I will continue to write to you, little bird, and I can only hope that you write back to me as well. I dream of your voice but I suppose words will have to be enough until I can see you again.

~ Your shadowsinger

P.s I came across something in the marketplace today that reminded me of you and I cannot wait to give it to you once I return.

You didn’t think twice before sitting down at your desk and whipping out a piece of parchment and a pen. That smile lingered on your face the rest of the night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Three weeks passed by slowly. You couldn’t count how many times you had re-read the letters Azriel had been sending you. You had even made a trip to the marketplace to find a nicely carved, wooden box to store them in.

You were currently sitting on the railing of your balcony, a small shadow crow perched on your shoulder to keep you company. It was nighttime and the streets of Velaris were lit up with music, laughter and pretty faelights.

You preferred to watch from here, rather than joining in, despite Mor’s attempts to drag you to Rita’s.

The beating of wings stole your attention from the streets and you narrowed your eyes as a flying figure came into view. Cobalt siphons shined under the moonlight and your eyes widened as you realized that figure was Azriel.

Not only that, but he appeared to be heading straight towards your balcony as if he had known you’d be out here. You quickly hopped off the railing and stepped back a few paces to give him room to land.

Azriel landed gracefully with a small thud in front of you, tucking his wings in. He looked positively lethal tonight, his elegant cheekbones sharp in the darkness, his hazel eyes glowing gold. Beautiful. He was beautiful.

“Azriel,” you whispered in a questioning tone. “I didn’t know you were back from your mission.”

“I just got back,” he said, his voice dark like the night sky. It sent a shiver down your spine. “I wanted to see you first, before I check in with Rhys.”

“O-oh,” you stammered, blushing bright pink. You rubbed at your arm, suddenly feeling exposed in just your nightgown. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. They are too.”

You gesture towards the crow sitting on your shoulder still. Azriel’s shadows swirled in tendrils towards it until it flew off, the shadows trailing behind it, like they were also catching up.

You smiled at them as they disappeared in the night sky before turning your gaze back to Azriel. His eyes swept up your form, a muscle in his jaw clenching. When his eyes met yours again, there was a small heat in them that caused the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.

It was gone a second later and you wondered if you had imagined it. You cleared your throat. “How was the mission?”

“Good. Fine,” Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Though I’m happy to be back.”

You smiled up at him, shyly. Your voice was caught in your throat as you scrambled through your brain for something to say. But it seemed like Azriel didn’t mind your silence.

He reached a hand out, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear before stroking your cheek with his knuckles. He was staring at you so intensely, as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in the moment.

“I should go check in with Rhys,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to see your face, to make sure the one I see in my dreams is accurate.”

Your chest warmed, your blush turned red.

“I-is it?”

Your voice was a soft whisper in the gentle breeze.

Azriel shook his head with a small smile. “No. Nothing can ever compare to seeing you in person.”

His grabbed the hand dangling by your side.

“Get some rest, little bird,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles before disappearing in a swirl of shadows. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your skin tingly from his touch. Even long after you fell asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stared at yourself in the mirror after slipping on the gown Rhysand had left for you. It was time to make a trip to the Court of Nightmares, to Hewn City—your old home. You hated these visits. They brought back terrible memories but like the rest of the court, you sucked it up for Rhys’s sake.

He had given you a silk, cobalt blue gown. It swept to the floor, flowing only slightly away from your body in an elegant sheath silhouette. Thin straps held up the form-fitting bodice with a slight cowl neckline. It was simple, but beautiful.

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from your reflection.

“One second,” you called out as you slipped on the heels you had picked out to wear with the dress before making your way to the door. You pulled it open to see Azriel standing there in his full leathers, all seven siphons gleaming in the light.

His eyes widened as they trailed over your form. You suddenly felt self-conscious. When he met your gaze again, he cleared his throat and you held the door open so he could step inside your room, trying to brush off that feeling.

“Did you need something?” You asked.

His hands were in his pocket as he turned to face you. “I wanted to give you something before we leave for Hewn City. I mentioned it in my first letter.”

You nodded, remembering his written words clearly. Gods know how many times you had trailed your fingertips over that sentence with a stammering heart.

“Okay,” you squeaked, suddenly feeling nervous.

He gestured at you to turn around and you were once again facing yourself in the mirror. He stalked towards you like an angel from hell, his wings held out like every proud Illyrian male.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket and took something out of it. With one hand, he brushed your hair to one shoulder. His fingertips grazed your bare skin, sending a small shiver through your body.

Cold metal grazed your chest as he hung a necklace around your neck, letting it fall between your breasts as he clasped it from behind.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at it. It was a beautiful necklace, a blood red heart encased in twisting gold plating. You brushed your fingers against it, admiring it as a piece of art.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Azriel whispered, his breath brushing against your throat. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed, blushing. “It’s beautiful, Azriel. Thank you.”

His scarred fingers ran down your arm softly. “You are beautiful. Absolutely stunning, Y/n. I hope you know that.”

Your lips parted, ready to say something but Rhys’s voice interrupted.

Everyone to the foyer. It’s time to go.

You twisted in Azriel’s hold, staring up at him. He smiled down at you, his hazel eyes full of warmth. He grasped your hand in his. “Shall we?”

You could only nod, still at a loss for words.

An hour later, you were resting against a pillar in Hewn City’s throne room, watching Eris twirl around with Nesta. That had been the goal tonight, to entice Eris into proposing a marriage alliance. Even though she was doing this as a favor for your rulers, you couldn’t help but admire the two dancers. Watching them was like watching a real-life fairytale from one of the romance books.

You wished someone would look at you the way Cassian stared at Nesta as she danced, wished someone would have interest in you, desire you. You didn’t use to want those things because none of it would’ve been your choice, but now? Well, you could dream.

Your mind drifted to Azriel and all the little ways he had been treating you lately. Something sparked in your chest at the thought of him. Some of his gestures did seem romantic in nature, but other times, you wondered if he just saw you the way Rhys did…a little shadow, young and inexperienced.

“Would you like to dance?”

You stood up straight, blinking as Azriel appeared in front of you. Heat crawled up your neck as you looked at the shadowsinger, trying to push away all the thoughts you just had about him. Your eyes darted from the dance floor to his pretty hazel eyes.

“Y-you want to dance?” You looked at him almost disbelieving. “With me?”

“With only you,” he murmured, giving you a small smile. He held out his hand to you and you grappled with your pounding heart as you took it. The last song had just finished, the new strings starting up as he led you to the dance floor.

He slid a hand around your waist, pulling you close as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. As usual, both of your shadows had departed, as if they were spending time on their own. Movement caught your eye and you looked up to see one of your crows perched on a railing, a small shadow tendril swishing around it.

“We have an audience,” you whispered to Azriel, nodding your head towards the shadows.

His lips twitched as he followed your gaze. It had been jarring for him at first, to be so exposed without his shadows every time he was around you. But now it was comforting, a break from the constant darkness around him.

“Better put on a show,” he teased, twirling you around in his arms.

You laughed, letting him lead you through the movements, staying on beat with every pluck of a string. You danced in silence, your eyes never straying from his hazel ones. The throne room blurred in your peripheral, making it feel like it was just you and Azriel in this room together.

“Are you doing okay?” Azriel asked. “I know you don’t like coming here.”

“I’m fine,” you stammered. “It gets easier every time—seeing my family.”

Azriel’s eyes hardened at the mention of your family. He knew the story of how you got your shadows. A story not much different than his. He hadn’t told you, but before tonight, he had made a little visit to your family’s home and threatened your father into staying away from you tonight.

“If you want to leave, just say the word,” Azriel said. “I’ll deal with Rhys.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Azriel nodded his head but his grip on your waist tightened. The pair of you did another circle around the room before he spoke again. “You know, I have you to thank for how fast I was able to complete that mission for Rhys.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You,” he drawled, “Are a good motivator. I was counting down the seconds until I could return to you.”

Your cheeks heated, those damn butterflies in your stomach returned.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you squeaked, averting your eyes, shyly.

Azriel chuckled to himself, endeared by your mannerisms. The song came to a close and he dropped his hand from your waist but didn’t let go of your other one. He pulled it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly. “Thank you for dancing with me, little bird.”

You smiled back with a dip of the head. “I-I enjoyed it.”

“Good,” Azriel grinned before his eyes glazed over for a second and he frowned. “Rhys needs me for something. I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

“Okay,” you whispered. He reluctantly let your hand fall back to your side before pulling away, heading towards the High Lord. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, clutching a hand to your chest as you headed towards the back of the room again.

You were halfway back to your pillar when you heard someone mention your name. You frozen behind a statue, peering through the gaps to see a group of three females standing together, gossiping.

“I don’t know what he sees in her,” one of them mumbled. “Probably likes her because she’s a freak like him. Such a shame he’s a lesser fae.”

“I bet the High Lord told him to court her so he could keep both shadowsingers in his court to use,” another one laughed. “She’s so strange. I saw her talking to one of her crows earlier.”

“I think she’s pretty,” the third one whispered, shyly. “Even if she’s a little strange.”

“A little?” the first one scoffed with a laugh.

You rushed away, not wanting to hear anymore. You scurried out of the throne room and down the empty corridor, finding a small alcove to hide in. Tears lined your eyes as you thought on their words. You had thought maybe Azriel liked you, had wanted him to. But it was wishful thinking. No one would ever be interested in you that way. They were right. You were too strange, too off-putting.

You wiped at your tears bitterly.

“Y/n?” Azriel’s voice came from behind you. “What are you doing out here?”

Of course, he would show up right now. While you were crying over him. You turned slowly, trying to blink away your tears. “I-I just needed a break from the crowd.”

Azriel’s face dropped as he noticed the tear tracks on your cheeks. He took a step closer, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did someone do something to you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No…No, nothing like that. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Azriel pleaded, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

“You’ll think I’m stupid,” you whispered.

Azriel shook his head. “Never. I would never think you’re stupid, Y/n.”

You bit your lip, looking at the floor. Part of you wanted to tell him, to get a direct answer to your questions. But the other part of you was mortified at the thought of letting him know what you heard and how you felt about him.

“Please,” he murmured again.

You let out a sigh. “I just…overheard some girls talking about me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Who?” Azriel asked, his voice a touch darker.

You shrugged, looking back up at him. “I don’t know. Just some faeries who know me from here.”

“What could they have possibly said to upset you?”

It all came pouring out before you could stop it, the words spilling from your lips so quickly they almost slurred together. “They said I was strange and weird. But that doesn’t bother me. I hear it all the time. But…but they said the High Lord probably ordered you to ‘court’ me so I wouldn’t leave the Night Court. That there was no other reason you’d be interested in me—”

“Stop,” Azriel cut you off, causing your lips to slam shut. “I don’t need to hear anymore, Y/n, because everything they said is complete bullshit. First off, Rhys would never give an order like that. You know him.”

You nodded along but the pit of your stomach still ached.

“And I am interested in you. Not your shadows or your place in this court, I’m interested in you,” Azriel said. “I…I thought that might be obvious by now.”

Your lips parted in surprise as you looked up at him with wide eyes. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, at your expression.

“Y-you,” you stammered, “You are?”

“Yes, Y/n, I am more than just interested in you,” Azriel said. “I am enamored by you. You are the one I seek out each time I enter a room. Every stolen glance, every brush of your fingers, every smile you gift me, is a treasure I hold in my heart. I am completely and utterly taken by you, Y/n. It pains me that you would doubt my affections for even a second.”

You were speechless. He had taken the breath right from your lungs. Your heart was singing that melody again, the one it had sung that night he had taken you out for dinner. You stared up at him, into his hazel eyes that looked at you with reverence and warmth. His hand still cupped your face, his other pushed a piece of hair behind your ears with a gentle touch.

“So…all those things you…all the stuff you did—”

“Yes, Y/n, I have been trying to win your heart,” Azriel interjected for you. “The way you won mine since the moment I laid eyes on you. Not a day goes by where you are not on my mind. I am and have been bewitched by you. You have my heart and soul, little bird, if you’ll have it.”

The melody playing in your soul struck its final chord, releasing a golden thread that snapped the minute you met Azriel’s eyes again. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding. Mate. Mate. Azriel was your mate.

“Y-you,” you choked out, eyes rounded. “You’re my mate.”

Azriel’s eyes were hopeful as he nodded. “Yes and you are mine.”

“You knew…this whole time?”

He nodded again. “I did but I didn’t want to force you into something. I wanted you to find out on your own, after we had spent time together.”

You swallowed audibly.

Mate.

Azriel was your mate.

You weren’t even sure what to say. Your head was buzzing as your thoughts sped through your brain. The longer you stayed silent, the more the expression on Azriel’s face dropped until he looked uncertain. But you couldn’t shake yourself from your stupor.

“Will you have me?” Azriel asked, slowly. You could feel his insecurity down the bond and you knew you had to say something—anything to reassure him.

“Yes,” you stammered. “Azriel, I… I have never felt this way about someone. I wasn’t sure I would ever. But you… I l-love you.”

You blurted out the last three words, turning bright red as you stumbled over your speech. His eyes widened.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen in love with him. Had it been that night you walked along the Sidra? Or maybe sometime during training? All you knew was what you felt for him, something that didn’t seem to have a name until this very moment.

You let out a breath as a smile overtook Azriel’s face. He rested his forehead against yours with a deep breath.

“I love you too, little bird,” he said. “You have my heart, my soul, my devotion until the end of everything.”

“And you have me,” you whispered.

Azriel pulled back to look at you, lifting your chin with a finger.

“May I kiss you?”

Your heart stuttered.

“Y-yes.”

That was all he needed to hear. Azriel surged forward and kissed you hard with so much heat, so much craving that you stumbled back against the wall. His large hands fisted the silk fabric at your waist, pulling you against him before one hand rested on your hip while the other slid into your hair slowly.

All your thoughts ceased at that moment. All you could feel was Azriel’s hard body pressed against yours, so closely you swore you could feel his own heart beating against yours. And his lips were so warm, so soft against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. Your cheeks were red, your lips swollen, and the mating bond sang it's pretty song in your chest as you gazed up at Azriel.

“We should get back,” he mumbled, though he looked like he was ready to take you right there in the middle of this corridor. “Before anyone notices us gone.”

He held his hand out to you with a smile. You took it, letting him pull you down the corridor, hand in hand, giggling like a schoolgirl the entire way back.

The crow that had been watching this whole time, swooped away to follow after you two, a small tendril of shadow following close behind.

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