#like there's all these little parts and they don't come together in the shape of anything i know

[thewidowsledger]

Good Luck, Babe

Chapter 4: A Piece Of You | 4.0k

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: The once secret, a forbidden love hidden from the world. Those stolen moments together had been thrilling, but ultimately, drove the person you truly love away from you. But when she left, she didn't just leave you; she also left you a part of herself that would constantly remind you of her for the rest of your life. This fragment of her essence became an indelible mark on your soul, shaping the course of your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You know what they say, when someone leaves, someone else will come.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: +18 ANGST, cheating, smoking, smut but it was kind of cut off so it's just smu— pls laugh guys

Author's Note: This is about to get ANGSTIER. Nat's pain is valid but is her actions justifiable? Does r deserve all that? Pls pls pls I want to have y'all's thoughts, leave it in my inbox or in the comments or else I will not continue writing this jk i'm not joking. I removed some parts here that I think would be a better use on the next chapter that will be posted in 3 weeks (I know it's gonna be a long wait, but I've got to update the mob boss au and I've got to serve some angst fics for y'all)

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⧗

You're leaning over the counter, trying to read and sign the slip for Aliah's exams. You're terrible right now, you didn't realize how private schools can be so complicated that you have to sign a permission slip before they let your daughter take an exam. Suddenly, someone peers over your shoulder.

"You don't even know what you're signing, do you?"

This bitch.

You didn't look entirely at the woman but you saw her in your peripheral vision. You returned your focus on filling up whatever paper you are filling up.

But suddenly the woman leans in closer, her musky perfume overwhelming your senses. She effortlessly points out the correct line, her long fingers tapping the paper. "Is your child a transferee?" she asked and you nodded nervously.

"Check that one, then don't write anything down here." You gulped and nodded before shakingly dragging your hands to do whatever she just said.

When everything was signed, you double checked to make sure to get everything right this time. You push it towards the clerk, who scans it quickly. "All done, Mrs. Romanoff," she says with a smile.

"Romanoff." You heard the woman behind you whisper. You finally turn to face her, your heart racing as you meet her gaze.

The woman stands tall, her blonde hair cut short and stylish, framing her square-shaped face. She's dressed in a black leather jacket, paired with jeans and combat boots, giving her an edgy, intimidating look. She holds your gaze for a moment longer before her gaze flickers to the wedding ring still on your finger. Her expression shifts slightly, becoming more calculated. "So, you're the wife of one of the big sponsors of this school? Natasha Romanoff?" She asks the question almost casually, but there's an underlying intensity in her tone. "The transportation tycoon?"

The mention of her name and the title made you feel a pang of discomfort. The word wife and the title of being Mrs. Romanoff suddenly feels like ill-fitting suits. Your marriage, after all, had been little more than a convenient arrangement—for your daughter. So you are not sure whether to confirm or not, so you just let out a small awkward smile hoping that she won't budge further about her question. And the blonde seemed to read between the lines that theories started to formulate in her mind. She was about to formally introduce herself when she saw a kid running towards your direction.

"Mommy!" She watched you scoop up a little girl that clearly is yours, giggling as you attacked her face with kisses.

Behind her was another girl, it was the blonde's niece, catching up. "Auntie!" The little girl waves, her gap-toothed smile wide. "Up!"

Without missing a beat, the blonde reaches down and scoops up the kid, tossing her playfully into the air before catching her. The kid squeals with delight. "Hey, monkey face," she says, ruffling the girl's curly hair. Then her kid glances at Aliah who was in your arms.

She grins, her eyes bright. "Auntie, this is my new friend, Aliah!" she announces proudly. You turned around so you and your daughter could face them together, then Aliah looked at the woman who was carrying her friend, her little hands waving with a grin.

Now, it's your daughter's turn to introduce her newfound friend to you, "Mommy, this is Monica!"

"Hi, Monica."

The blonde watches as you speak to Monica. She's mesmerized by the way you interact with the children, so gentle and natural. Monica giggles at your greeting, "Hi!" she chirps back, climbing down to her aunties grasp.

Aliah wriggles out of your arms, wanting to join Monica on the floor. The two girls run off together, laughing and chattering excitedly. Now, you're left standing alone with the blonde again. She clears her throat nervously, a slight flush creeping up her neck, "I hope I didn't overwhelm you with my question a while back."

You shake your head with a warm smile, waving off her apology with a casual flick of your wrist. "O-oh, no worries." Your voice is sincere, as you pull the strawberry shortcake trolley bag of your daughter towards you.

Over the years, even when Aliah wasn't transferred at this school, you had always been present and active—you're always there, quietly observing, helping when needed, but never seeking the spotlight or engaging in small talk with other parents.

You glance around the hallway, taking in the other parents chatting and laughing in small groups. This is unfamiliar territory for you. Despite your active involvement in Aliah's school life, you've managed to maintain a certain level of privacy, keeping to yourself and avoiding unnecessary interactions with others as much as possible. Especially now, being in this marriage under the convenience of your daughter and being in this new school, it has only reinforced your desire for privacy. You don't want others knowing your personal business.

"So, how is…your daughter adjusting?" her question pulled you out of your trance.

"She's doing well and she seemed to be adjusting quickly." You respond briefly, keeping your answer vague but positive. You don't elaborate further, not wanting to delve deeper into Aliah's personal life or yours and invite more questions. She seems genuinely nice. She's not trying to pry in a malicious way—she's just being friendly. But your private nature won't allow you to relax and chat casually like the others.

"That's good."

After the painfully awkward silence, there was a sudden impact of the ball against the blonde's head that made your lips twitch despite your usual guarded expression. She stumbles slightly from the impact "Oh my..." she mutters, rubbing her head.

"S-sorry…" you bashfully stuttered as she saw you trying to hold your laughter back.

But what you didn't know is that she smiles victoriously, pleased to have finally seen a crack on you. Then, she traps the ball between her feet skillfully, making you raise an eyebrow. She looks your way, catching your surprised expression. She smirks slightly, then kicks the ball high up in the air, sending it back to the students with perfect aim and unexpected strength.

"Show off." You murmured to yourself.

She overhears your quiet comment, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She adjusts the strap of her niece's bag, feigning ignorance but purposefully stepping closer to you. "Did you say something?" she asks teasingly, obviously enjoying your rare slip of emotion.

"N-no…" You giggled softly, you looked at her and she smiled.

"I should've introduced myself earlier but yeah, I'm Carol. Monica's aunt." She lends her hand over you.

"I-I'm Y/N…Aliah's mommy." Your small, hesitant hand disappears into her larger, calloused one.

She grins widely at your soft-spoken introduction. "Nice to meet you, Y/N." She smiled, gently releasing your hand. "So…I'll see you around?"

You didn't answer, your attention to her was long gone after you saw your daughter running towards your direction. You then fixed her trolley bag and prepared to leave.

Carol can only watch you and your daughter walk away, an unknowing smile playing on her lips. Then, all of a sudden a ball comes flying out of nowhere and hits her square in the back of the head again. She stumbles forward, letting out a loud "Ow!" and a string of curses under her breath.

"I'm not a fucking soccer goal net!"

"Auntie Carol, you said bad words!"

⧗

In the dining room, you and Aliah sit at the table, enjoying a quiet dinner together. Aliah chatters excitedly about her day, telling you all about the kids she played with and the games they played. You listen attentively, smiling at her enthusiasm, occasionally asking follow-up questions. You also made sure to ask her if someone or something is making her feel uncomfortable, it is a small routine you do with her to make sure she is comfortable and safe in school.

Aliah suddenly stops eating, her brow furrowing. She looks down at her plate, pushing her food around with her fork. You watch her carefully, knowing that look. She lifts her big, brown eyes to meet yours. "Where's Mama?"

As if on cue, her Aunt Yelena walked in the dining room. Aliah instantly perks up and slides out of her chair to run to her great-aunt's open arms.

"Yeye!"

"Hey, baby!" She scooped the small child onto her arms and put her back to her chair. "Finish your food, I have a surprise."

"Hi, Yelena. I cooked pasta, I'll get you some."

She couldn't decline as you were already walking to get her a plate, so she sat down beside your daughter kissing her forehead.

You placed the plate of pasta in front of her, "Thank you, Y/N." She smiles at you, her eyes meeting yours briefly before she focuses back on her food. "Mmm, this is really good," she says between bites.

All of a sudden, Aliah pipes up, her voice loud. "Mama!" She whines, looking around the room. Yelena sets her fork down, realizing the absence of her sister during dinner. "Yeah? Where's Natasha?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You immediately recognize the tone in Aliah's voice—that slightly higher pitch whine that signals a tantrum incoming. You kept your voice calm and soothing, "I'll get Natasha. Sounds like someone wants her. Rick told me she just got home an hour ago but he also said that she has an important meeting right now, but I'll check."

Walking out of the kitchen, you run your fingers through your dark hair, glancing sideways at the large picture frame hanging in the hallway. You catch your reflection—you lean in to see if your make up was still on.

As you near her office, you subtly adjust your blouse, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then, you push open the heavy door of Natasha's office carefully, you peeked inside, your eyes immediately drawn to her, seated in her high-back leather chair, facing away from the doorway. There was a head peeking through her desk. Clearly, a woman with wavy red hair was kneeling in front of her. You notice the absence of Natasha's wedding ring on her finger as she's tied the red-haired woman's hair with her tight grip. Natasha moans softly, tilting her head back, exposing her neck.

You were too shocked, too frozen, too numb to feel the tear that slid down your cheek.

Slowly and quietly, you pull the door closed, careful not to make a sound. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stand in the hallway, that single tear now joined by others streaming down your face. The shock and pain of the scene you just witnessed hit you like a physical blow. Your stomach churns and you feel the sudden urge to throw up. The room spins and you grab onto the wall to steady yourself, trying not to pass out from the overwhelming dizziness that washes over you. You inhale deeply through your nose, counting to four in your head, then exhale slowly through your mouth, counting to four again, like how your therapist taught you. You repeat this pattern, trying to calm your racing heart and clear your mind, fighting the panic attack that threatens to consume you.

"You're okay, you're okay, Y/N. You're fine. You're okay." You chanted over and over as you wiped the tears off your face.

You manage to pull yourself together and walk back to the dining room, putting on a brave face. Yelena looks at you suspiciously, your puffy eyes didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Baby, m-mama is in a very important meeting. Okay?" The blonde also noticed how your voice almost cracked as you spoke. Your daughter who is oblivious to the turmoil within you, behaves angelically as she finishes her food. The threat to tantrum was long gone. "Yelena? C-can you put Aliah to bed tonight? I've got…some things to do." You asked her hesitantly.

Yelena's eyes soften with worry, obviously noticing how uncharacteristically gentle and strained your voice is. Without a word about your eyes or voice, she simply responds, "Sure," flashing a small smile.

She also made sure to pay a visit on her sister's meeting tonight.

⧗

You retreat to your room, walking towards your large cabinets, you abruptly open your one of the drawers, grabbing the pack of marlboro red. Your fingers hover over them as you wrestle with temptation. Your hand trembles slightly, knowing the instant relief those chemicals could provide right now. The tightness in your chest, the dull ache from holding everything in…

It's an unhealthy habit that you've been using as a coping mechanism at the same time, it is an unhealthy habit you're trying to get yourself out with.

"Fuck," you whisper, unconsciously unrolling the pack's wrapper.

The cigarette trembles slightly between your fingers as you light it. The smoke curls up around your face, mirroring the storm brewing in your eyes. You sit on your bed, staring at nothing, the self-loathing growing heavier with each puff.

You took your wedding ring off your finger, you tried not to let the dam of tears break from your eyes as you examined the ring.

Everything's becoming clear to you now.

A dark voice in your head begins to whisper, planting seeds of self-doubt and guilt. You hurt her, destroyed her. Therefore, you deserve this pain, you deserve every pain she gives you. You're not good enough, never were. Your mind continues to whisper poisonous thoughts. You took a deep drag of the cigarette, the smoke burning your lungs like the guilt burning your soul. "This is karma," you told yourself. "You deserve every bit of her hate…"

A flicker of memory flashes before your eyes—the early days with Natasha, the sneaking together, the way she would sing for you in the middle of the night whenever your heart is heavy after a loss, whatever tournament you had joined. Your heart aches at the bittersweet nostalgia, the knowledge that you threw all that away because you were a fucking coward.

You stood and walked out onto the terrace, the night air enveloping you like a cold blanket. You took a long drag before exhaling slowly, watching the smoke dissipate on the icy breeze. The nicotine buzz barely touches the edges of your pain, but it's something. "She always hated these fucking things," you murmur, half-smile tinged with bitter irony.

You were about to get another cigarette when you saw your daughter, huddled in the doorway, her face streaked with tears, sniffling.

You froze on the spot and cursed yourself, you immediately stubbed out the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, trying to make the smell and the smoke go away, but it's too late—she started wailing loudly, her tiny fists balling up as she cried. You've taken to hiding in the bathroom or stepping outside when you need a cigarette, not letting your daughter see or even inhale the smell of smoke because she hates it and you would never have your daughter breathe it. You genuinely think you're being stealthy. But it seems like every time you would light up a cigarette, your daughter would immediately know.

Seeing how it affects your little one's purity and innocence makes you feel guilty.

"You pwomise you stop smoke!" Aliah cried out loud. You carefully walked towards her, without warning, she ran towards your bed grabbing your pillow and heaved it towards you with all her might, her small arms flailing.

Getting down on your knees so you're at her eye level, you watch her tiny form trembling with emotion as she throws every pillow she can reach in your direction. "Shh, Ali...mommy's sorry..." Your voice trembled, but she continued. You took every hit of the pillow from your daughter.

You hated making Aliah cry, you hated hurting Natasha. You hated yourself causing them this.

Everything's too much, it's too much. You feel every pain physically now.

Suddenly, you crumbled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. "Mommy's…just hurt." Your voice breaks as tears pour down your face and fall on the pillows scattered in front of you. "I'm so sorry baby, please forgive mommy…"

As you break down in sobs, your daughter suddenly stops throwing pillows and stares at you with a frown.

"Hurt, mommy is hurt," you sobbed each word as you pointed to your heart, her little brow furrows even more. She's seen you do this before when you're sad or upset.

She walked towards you, throwing the pillows back on your bed. Then, she climbs onto your lap, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck. "Mommy hurt?" Through your sobs, you nod gently, holding her close. Her soft baby scent fills your nostrils, the smell of cigarettes long gone. And you realize how much you're hurting not just yourself, but this innocent soul who depends entirely on you. She placed her ear on your chest, a thing she grew up doing to ensure your heart is still beating whenever you tell her something hurt.

"Mommy's hurting...bad..."

And you deserve all of it.

⧗

"How many hours have you been sucking her?"

"Fucking hell, Yelena!" Natasha yelled, she pushed her office chair back and zipped her pants up.

"Out. Now." Yelena's voice brooks no argument, and the woman quickly scrambles to her feet, fleeing the room without another word. Natasha could only huff in embarrassment.

"That door is fucking closed for a reason."

"Well, it's unlocked, it seems like you wanted everyone to see the meeting you're doing here."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she moved to the nearby cabinet, pulling out a bottle of expensive red wine and a single glass. She pours herself a generous amount, her hand steady despite the tension in the room.

"Did you at least finish your meeting, sestra?" Yelena emphasizes the word 'finish' with heavy sarcasm. Natasha's jaw clenches visibly at Yelena's insinuation, her hands tightening around the wine glass. Without offering any to Yelena, she takes a long sip, still avoiding her sister's gaze.

"So this is your plan?" Yelena started again but her sister didn't bother to look. "Make her miserable?"

Now she got her sister's attention.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She murmured.

"I should've realized it." Yelena's laughter is sharp and devoid of any warmth, a bitter sound that fills the room.

"Can you…can you go?" Natasha irritatingly spat at Yelena without looking at her.

"Asking her to marry you, I thought you wanted a fresh start, sestra…"

"Watch your mouth." Natasha warned her sister, her pointed finger hanging in the air while the glass of wine was still in her hand.

But Yelena seemed unfazed by her sister's threat. "But I didn't realize…"

"Shut up!"

"That you just want to make her watch as you fuck some communal pussy with her wearing that wedding ring you put on her while you don't wear yours!"

"Fucking shut up!" Natasha hurls the wine glass across the room, missing Yelena by mere inches. The glass shatters against the wall, the sound echoing through the space. Yelena, however, remains eerily calm, not even flinching at the near miss.

She let out a deep sigh, shaking her head disappointingly. "Why are you doing this, Natasha? You've got so many options and money! You could've taken Aliah from her if that's the only thing you want! You can pay for better lawyers than her, you could've won custody!"

Natasha's jaw clenched as she tries to suppress her emotions once again. She takes a shuddering breath, attempting to regain her composure and stave off the spiral of anger and defensiveness threatening to consume her once again.

"But that's not what you really want don't you?" Her sister continues, Natasha finally meets her eye to eye. "Are you happy watching her go miserable? Kneel the ground you walk on just to earn that forgiveness from you?"

"She deserves it."

Yelena huffed about how unbelievably heartless her sister is right now. "I watched you fall apart over her. And now...now you're tearing her apart piece by piece." Yelena's voice breaks slightly. "I understand your pain, Natasha. I truly do, you're my sister. I held you through the darkest parts of it. But this...this is different. This is you actively choosing to hurt her, to break her."

"She deserves it." Natasha repeated coldly under her breath.

"Yeah, sure, Natasha. Whatever you say." Yelena was getting tired. "You're right, Y/N deserves all the pain you give her, sure. But does your daughter deserve that too? Because let's be real, you're not just hurting her, you're hurting your daughter too."

⧗

You tucked Aliah back to sleep. You made sure to change her clothes, making sure the fresh scent of soap and fabric softener replaces the lingering aroma of cigarette that clings to her skin. You smooth Aliah's hair, you wipe away the last of your tears. Her eyes flutter closed finally, her breath evening out into the rhythm of innocent sleep. You gently adjust her blankets, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping back, your own eyes damp with residual emotion.

"I love you my Iyah."

You carefully extract yourself from Aliah's room, then go straight to your room. The first thing you did was take the hidden cigarettes from their usual hiding spots. Cracking open the window for fresh air, you aggressively grind each cigarette beneath your slippers, tossing the broken remnants into the trash.

You're not physically addicted, but cigarettes have become a crutch, a coping mechanism for the pain—when something hurts. The memory where you saw Natasha and a woman who was doing god knows what kneeling under her made your throat itch wanting some relief. But the memory of your daughter's face, her little sniffles seeing you take a long drag and inhale a smoke made your body physically flinch. That will be the last, you will not make your daughter cry again, you will not hurt her with a fucking nicotine stick. She deserves better than a damn smoker of a mom.

You straighten the rumpled bed sheets, placing the pillows Aliah had thrown at you back neatly against the headboard. Suddenly, there was a knock on your door, then, the doorknob aggressively rattled. You were about to get it when suddenly it creaked open and you saw Natasha in her disheveled state.

"N-Natasha…" your voice quivered, she is the last person you would expect to go to your room right now.

She towers over you, her tall frame blocking the light from your room. You step back instinctively, she breathes heavily in your face, the scent of alcohol, the scent of another woman in her skin are burning your nostrils. Her face is completely expressionless, almost scary in its neutrality. The lack of emotion makes her features somehow sharper, more intense.

You're frozen, shock rendering you unable to process the situation. Your mind is reeling, you are still trying to move on and forgive her from what you saw earlier—her and a red haired woman, their intimate pose burned into your retinas. And now, she's here, in your room, drunk and cold.

"Nat…what-what do you want?" She doesn't answer your question, her droopy eyes dropped down to your blouse. Your body trembled as she slowly, deliberately unbuttons each button.

You didn't resist, fear rooting you in place. Your mind is screaming at you to push her away, to run, but your body refuses to cooperate. Tears well up in your eyes as she slowly pushes your blouse off your shoulders, leaving you in just your lacy bra. Natasha leans in close, inhaling deeply at your neck as if trying to consume your scent. You smelled like marlboro red. Her lips brush your skin, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. She shoves you to your bed before crawling on top of you. Then she almost ripped your bra that is solely covering your upper body, exposing your breasts. She's not gentle, not sweet. She's cold, hungry—an animal. She sucks harshly on one nipple while pinching the other. You hissed, your body arching in pleasure.

It is twisted, you just saw her with another woman but now, you're letting her take you like this—no words, no tenderness. She's a force of nature, teeth grazing on your skin, fingers digging into your flesh. She's using you, taking what she needs, and you're letting her. At least it's you that she needs right now, right?

A tear rolls down your cheek, your hands reaching the back of her head as her mouth continues to attack your body.

It's better to have her like this, than none at all.

[sdmnpact]

Among Us. Part 2.

Wroetoshaw x Reader ff

Part 1

~~~

You were sitting at a table across from Harry. You two actually decided to go out that night to celebrate your amongus win. It's a silly thing to go out to celebrate but realistically, you two used this as an excuse to meet up in person. After all that time you two 'spent together', you wanted to get to know each other in a proper environment rather than slicing your friends up.

The more you guys spent together, the more you felt comfortable with him. You two meshed together so easily because of your similar interests and sense of humor. You two could have stayed there all night chatting until the sun came up. Being there so long, you both kept ordering beers slowly and steadily getting a little more than tipsy. A light pink flush growing on both your cheeks as you drank on.

Time passing by so quickly, too quickly. It was quite late and you knew it was time to head home.

"You reckon we should leave now?" You asked slightly slurred. Finishing off the last bit of your drink. He agreed and you lot made your way towards the uber that Harry had ordered. You looked out the window seeing the streets under the light of the full moon. You looked towards Harry to see him struggling to stay awake. It wasn't too late, but the alcohol had definitely taken effect on you both. All you wanted at the moment was to lay in your warm bed.

As you arrived at your flat, you saw the shape Harry was in and told him to come up with you.

"Let's go bog." You said pulling on his arm as he followed you out the uber. You headed upstairs and inside to your flat.

"So, what should we do now?" He asked slightly more awake now. "Don't know, want to watch a movie?" you suggested. He nodded as he made his way towards the couch. He plopped down grabbing one of the throw pillow adjusting himself. You grabbed your remote and played a random movie on Netflix.

You sat about a foot away from him trying to get comfortable yourself. "You can come closer if you'd like." He almost murmured but said loud enough for you to hear. You smiled to yourself as you scooted closer now shoulder to shoulder. He slowly moved his arm to rest on the back of the couch, behind you. You felt the warmth of his arm almost wrapped around you.

As the movie progress, you two began melting together. You didn't realize just how close you had gotten to him. You were practically on his lap as he had fully wrapped his arm around you. It felt nice, the warmth that radiated off your bodies providing enough heat on this cold winter night.

Both feeling sleepy, you fought it off so you can spend more time awake in each other's embrace. He looked at you many times throughout the film, staring at your beauty as you would sneak glances at him, admiring his handsome features.

At this moment you knew that you wanted more than just a simple friendship with this man and little did you know, he wanted it too. You were too shy to say anything, but drunken Harry sure wasn't.

"We should do this more." The words left his lips with no other thoughts than to spend all his time with you. You looked up at him as the light of the television illuminated his face. He looked towards you, looking into your eyes with adoration. You felt yourself leaning into him as he was doing the same. Your lips touched briefly as you looked up at him.

"I would enjoy that."

~~~

A/n

I was wondering if anyone would like to join a tag list? I post these sporadically and wanted to see if anyone would like to be notified when I do! If you do, can you comment for who (George, Harry or both?) and whether or not you would like to be tagged in smut! Okay well, I hope enjoyed!!

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Twenty Two)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Twenty Two: Aran has his say, and Y/N and Cillian listen. But Cillian is able to ensure he hears his views too. Y/N struggles with the subject, knowing the young man is struggling too. Resolution may come, but why does she feel like she's standing in the depths of the secrets and lies alone? [Anxiety and deep family issues - mentions of abortion and domestic violence?]

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @strangeions @watermeezer

I have referenced the bracket with domestic violence. I consider it domestic violence, but some of you may not. But just in case you share my view, I've put that little indicator there.

-------

“Right,” Cillian holds his hands out before him. You're all perched on stools at the island and looking at one another awkwardly. “How are we doing this, Aran?” You can hear his anxiety, and see it in the frequency of his tongue swiping over his lips.You look at the young man and wonder what he's thinking. He's not so readable as his dad is.

“I dunno.” Aran says quietly.

“Well, will I tell you anything or do you want to get your questions asked?” Cillian offers a choice.

Aran takes a deep breath. “I can ask what I want?”

“Anything you need to, son. I'm not going to hide anything.” Cillian insists.

Aran looks a little relieved for a moment, and then you wonder if he realises he now has a free pass. “When did you start seeing her?” Aran asks, and he doesn't look at you for a moment.

“Nearly a year before your Mum and me split up.” Cillian answers calmly. “But Aran, your Mum and me, we were going that way anyway. We did not split because I was seeing Y/N. I'd nearly made that decision by that point already, and it only got worse.”

“And the baby?” Aran asks, but he looks at you this time. “If he wasn't with Mum, would you have kept it?”

You shake your head, “I don't know. I can't give you an answer for that, because I don't know what would have happened if things were different.”

“Does Mum know any of it?” He asked, and you look to Cillian as Aran does.

Cillian shakes his head. “I don't think so: like I said, we were in bad shape, Aran. We would have snapped sooner or later. Things were not good. But when we broke it all off and decided to separate, I didn't mention Y/N. Mostly, I didn't mention her because there was enough shit under the bridge for your Mum and for me to end it. No new reasons were needed. I suppose I didn't see the point in fueling the fire.”

Aran looks at his hands, wringing together as his arms rest on the island, and he takes a few steady breaths. “Why, Dad?” he looks up at Cillian and you can see he's grappling. “If you wanted to split up with Mum, you should have. You should have left her before, not after.”

“I know,” Cillian nods, and you don't like the guilty look on his face.

“And did you know he was married, and that me and Mal existed?” Aran asks, turning to you again, and there's an edge to his voice.

Swallowing nervously, you nod your head. “I did.” You say quietly.

“You're an idiot,” he turns back on his father. “You got her fucking pregnant, Dad! Cheated on Mum and got her pregnant, that the biggest cliché there is, you know?” Cillian closes his eyes but let's Aran get out what he has to. “It's disgusting. It was disgusting enough when you were seeing her before the divorce was even sorted, it's ten times as bad knowing the truth of it.” He sniffs. “It's not just that, either, it's like…like you don't respect Mal and me, that you'd go shagging around making new kids and didn't even have the balls to be honest about it. And you left, Dad! Us, and Mum, for Y/N. You think dinners and lifts from school make it okay?”

“Aran,” you say gently.

“No, he said I can say what I need to. And it needs to be said. You're both disgusting. Sneaking and lying. You're liars.” Aran snaps back. “I thought I was okay and just needed to know, but it isn't okay. It's not okay because it feels like you lied to me.”

“You were thirteen when Mum and me split up, Aran. I wasn't going to sit you down and go over the specifics. But I did sit with you and Malachy, though, and I told you the truth - I did tell you the truth, Aran. We couldn't be together any longer, the rowing and the fucking silent treatment. Sure half the time I was away and would ring to talk to you boys, I'd be ignored entirely or she'd say youse were out or something. She started keeping you from me when I was right there, and the fights got worse when I'd be home.” Cillian explains himself as calmly as he can..”If I thought at the time I'd be helping you or Malachy by telling youse about Y/N, I would have. But it was enough pain for the two of ye that Mum and me couldn't be together anymore. I didn't want to make it any harder.”

“Would you ever have said anything, if I didn't find those?” Aran asks quietly.

Cillian shrugs one shoulder. “I don't know. Maybe when you were older. But I don't know, Aran. Maybe not. Sure what good is it doing for you now knowing? You're angry, and it's causing more trouble it need not have caused.”

“You said you didn't leave because of Y/N, so why did you only leave after you were seeing one another?” Aran asks, and he's calmer, and he looks at his Dad, then at you.

Cillian looks at you with a small smile, though his eyes are still sad and anxious, and then he looks back at Aran as he considers his sons question. “She helped me make the choice. Nothing she did, she didn't say leave her, she didn't tell me to get divorced - I don't mean it that way. But away from your Mum, and with Y/N, apart from missing you two or worrying about you two, I felt happier. There were no arguments, or being ignored, or threatened with the chance I'd lose the two of ye.*

“We heard it, you know?” Aran says and you frown.

“The arguments?” Cillian asks.

Aran nods his head, “Yeah. Sometimes.” you feel sad for him and for Cillian.

Cillian sighs sadly, “I'm sorry.”

“One time, we heard you telling her to stop something, that you didn't like it and then there was a noise and Malachy was gonna go out and I said no. And then Mum was crying and she was saying she was sorry. Did she hit you?” Aran asks.

Cillian shakes his head quickly, “No, Aran, nobody hit anybody. But there were a few nights she'd throw things, when she was angry. Sometimes I understood I'd made her angry, even if I hadn't meant to. Other times, she was just angry and I couldn't work it out. She wasn't happy either, Aran. It wasn't working, the two of us, but we were trying to get back to where we used to be, to keep things going well for the two of ye.”

“She slapped that Easter.” Aran says and you turn your face to Cillian slowly. “Uncle Páidi was there, Dad, you both were, like, bickering and he kept saying it wasn't right. Mal and I weren't stupid, Dad, we could see it and hear it. And we were outside and Páidi was going in and we looked up and the kitchen window and you shouted something and Mum slapped your face. So don't say she didn’t do it, Dad.”

Cillian takes a deep breath and he sort of rolls his eyes, almost like a shrug action but with his face, and you want to reach out and touch him but you don't want to upset Aran. “I don't…” Cillian sighs.

“I never saw you do it, and we didn't see her to it again either. But we always thought we knew when she did.” Aran says. “And that time you two had the fight after you got back from filing away somewhere. It was like days of doors slammed and,” he shakes his head and laughs sarcastically. He's seeing it all, in his mind, you know, and you feel for him. “And she put your case at the top of the stairs, and you went to Síle's for a week. You'd been gone ages, and you went again.”

“Jesus . Aran, I'm sorry.” Cillian says so gently, so quietly, he sounds lost and small. “We never wanted to hurt you or your brother, and I know I'm not painting your Mum out well here, but she didn't want you two hurting either. But I see that it has, beyond us just splitting up. And I wish we'd done it sooner because then you'd have been saved from that. Especially those last couple of years when I was barely there, working, staying elsewhere, fighting when I was there or the fucking silences, and then just being around until bedtime. I know you knew I would leave at night.”

Aran nods his head. “You used to come back about five in the morning.” He smirks.

Cillian smiles sadly, “Yeah,” he sighs.

“He'd stay with you, before he left at the end, when he wasn't at home?” Aran asks you.

You nod, “Yeah, right before the split he did. Yeah.” You offer him a small smile. “He talked about you and Malachy all the time, still does. He never wanted to be gone, be away from you. He just couldn't stay with your Mum any longer.” It's quiet for a minute. Nobody shifts, nobody speaks, and you wonder what the two of them are thinking. Then Aran speaks up again.

“Dinner, and driving us, Dad… it is good. It means we see you all the time.” He says, quietly. It's a sorry, you realise, and you see the small look of acceptance that crossed Cillian's face. “But I just, I wish you didn't lie. I wish you didn't…” he takes a deep breath. “...I wish you didn't have a fucking affair, Dad. That's just as bad as Mum slapping your face, you know? Youse could have just left each other, but you both hurt each other and you lied. And that's worse. And worse again is that you two were…and then you'd come home and be with Mum….”

Cillian shifts awkwardly and you cringe, knowing instantly what Aran is so agonisingly trying to say. “No, Aran…” Cillian holds out his hands. “No. Your Mum and me were not in the same room for over a year. I wasn't …bed hopping.” He almost laughs but neither of you find it funny.

Aran looks at you for a moment, and you feel exposed. You're glad he's asking what he wants, you think, and you're proud of Cillian for answering him honestly. But it still feels a lot, like removing a scab, and you're not sure the wound is ready. “I won't say anything.” He says. “But I think you should, to Malachy at least. Maybe you don't owe Mum that, I dunno, but Mal should know.”

Quiet falls again and you breathe through a wave of nausea once again. You get up from the stool and take a glass from the dish drainer, then fill it from the tap. With your back to Cillian and Aran, you sip the water slowly, fighting the feeling of a rising gag. You want to sit closer and hold Cillian, you want to rest your head on his shoulder and lace your fingers with his - and yet you don't, because you don't want to hurt his son.

“About the baby though,” Aran says suddenly. You freeze at the sink, then slowly turn around. “If you were going to leave Mum anyway, why didn't you just keep it?”

Cillian considered the question and licks his lips slowly, “It wasn't the right time. It wasn't fair to Y/N because I couldn't be with her right then, and it wasn't fair to you two or your Mum - because then I would have had to have told you all everything, and hurt you all. And it wasn't fair to me, either. I was in no place to be seeing to a wee one when you two were going to need me more with everything I knew was coming. It just wasn't the right time, for anyone.”

Aran frowns, “I don't know all about it, Dad, but you let her go on her own? Don't they like, kill the baby? I mean…”

“Aran,” Cillian shakes his head and then looks at you. Your chin quivers. “I wanted to be there, and I couldn't be. I'm not proud of myself, son, and I'm not going to excuse it. I wasn't there when she needed me and I'm going to regret that for as long as I live. But at the time I thought between working and protecting you and Mal from what was going on, hiding it, that I was doing the right thing. It wasn't.*

You feel your heart beating quicker at Cillian's admissions. Sure, he's said he's sorry so many times, but he's never been so willing to hold up his deficiencies like that before. You swallow hard, nausea and emotions swimming around your entire insides, and you keep your eyes on him.

Aran nods his head slowly. “Sorry you had to…do that.” He says, quietly, and you're not sure if he's saying it to you or to his Dad but you take it into your heart.

“How do you feel, now?” Cillian asks, his eyes fixed on his son.

Aran shrugs, “Think I understand it better. It doesn't make it better, or make what you did okay,” he shrugs again. “I mean you stayed together, yeah? You and Y/N. So it wasn't like a stupid thing that got in the way.”

“No, not at all.” Cillian says quickly. “And Aran I don't hate your Mum or anything; I could never have stayed but it was both of us that were causing the problem, it wasn't one sided. And we have you two - she's always going to be important. I just couldn't stay.”

Aran nods his head and you watch his expression. “I get that.” He says and you're surprised at the maturity, especially against his earlier clear anger. “Sometimes things just change.”

“Exactly.” Cillian nods slowly. “What doesn't change is how important you and Malachy are, you know that, yeah?”

Aran nods, “Yeah,” he whispers.

Cillian takes a deep breath. “And no matter what happens in this house, in this relationship, you and Mal are always going to be important. I might make more choices you're not entirely happy with, but it doesn't mean I'm doing it against you. You two aren't babies now, and you'll be away in your own homes with your own lives soon enough.”

“You say that like you're planning something,” Aran jokes nervously.

“I just mean that choices we might make in the future aren't meant to hurt you, but that it'd be choices for us and our life,” he gestures towards you. “Not for you and Malachy.”

Aran nods his head again, “I get it, Dad.”

“I love you two so much, and I'll be here whenever you need me.” He says with a catch in his voice. You study his face, wondering if this is the moment he cries. But he doesn't. “But I also love Y/N, and our life here matters too.”

“I know.” Aran says, and again he's quiet.

Cillian shifts on the stool. “Do you have anything else you need to ask, or anything you need to say?”

Aran looks at him for a moment, then at you, then back to his Dad. “No.” He says quietly.

“If you choose to tell your Mum and your brother, I can't stop you. But I'd prefer it if you didn't. And maybe soon, I'll do it.” Cillian says, and he sounds so diplomatic, so fair and even, and you're not sure why he isn't trembling you are.

“I won't,” Aran sighs. “What good would it do?”

You feel it to be a rhetorical question, and it throws you off when Cillian answers it. “None at all, Aran.” He swipes his tongue over his lips. He gets to his feet. “C'mere,” he says to him, opening his arms. “Give me a fucking hug.”

Aran scoffs but he gets off the stool and walks around to meet his father. You watch as they lock their arms around one another and you feel relieved for Cillian. His eyes are closed as he holds his son tightly. He's lightened by the talk, and you're glad. But you wonder where your arms of support are?

[chemicalarospec]

The funniest thing I wholeheartedly believe is that I have a neurodivergency not catergorizable or diagnosable as any currently recognized disorder. (disorder emphaized because heavily impairing functioning is generally a requirement of the clinical definition and a condition of diagnosis, and although i'm vexed i still Get By Just Fine)

because like yes those probably exist; there's no way psychiatry is in its final form now and there are definitely levels of neuro-difference that don't qualify as disorders, but like. that's so random and it's kinda pretentious to make such a bold claim about yourself. like oh u wanna be special, huh? 🙄 just be AuDHD like everyone else (<- joking)

[valalice]

ꨄ︎ cw. fem!reader. smut nsfw. ab grinding/riding. sevika is a tease & a little condescending & mocking. smoking ( on sevika's part ). slight praise. begging. reader calls sevika sevi.

sevika's grip on your hips steadies you. the familiar feel of her warm calloused hand on you is a stark contrast to her coolly sharp mechanical arm. "shit. y're so wet already." she acknowledged. eyes flickering between your face of pleasure, your tits, and the movement of you working yourself on her—now—glistening abs. "needed you all day. looked s'good." you mumbled. arching into sevika, hands landing on her tits to gain leverage to grind you clit against the muscle at a new angle.

"is that so?" she teases. your eyes shut tighter and you clamp down harder on your already swollen bottom lip, determined to reach the bliss you've starved after all day. "mhm," you muffle out. your eyes startle open at an absence of a hand on you, only for sevika's large hand to be placed on the nape of your neck, a thumb stroking your cheek. there's a hungry glint in her eye and she moves her hand to the back of your neck to push you further into her, encapsulating your lips in a heated kiss.

when the two of you disconnect there's a sloppy string of saliva that connects you with her, it only pushes you over the edge more. you push yourself back up, but with her hand still on the back of your neck, she pushes you back down once more. lips just barely touching, "tell me how bad you needed me," your glossy eyes widen at her request. "and no more closing your eyes and biting your lip bullshit." her grasp on you releases and she reaches over to grab her cigar and lighter. the shift in her hips as she reaches over and the tightening of her mechanical arm still on your hip to keep you from moving too much as she moves has you clenching your cunt as the slight friction. lighting it, throwing the lighter back onto the nightstand and inhaling the smoke, letting it burn in the back of her throat before puffing out the smoke out through her nose.

you're met with the comforting grey of her eyes once more. sevika corks up a brow at you. "well? get to movin' and talkin'." her words breaking you out of the trance you were under, settling back into a position, beginning to grind your slick cunt on her tummy again. "atta girl."

the smoke from sevika's cigar filling the room adds to the cloudiness of your mind, "needed y'so bad." you repeat for probably the third time this night. "how so?" brows squinting together, your mouth falling into a small "o" shape. your body becomes hotter when you realize you're already close to coming soon. "ah— like this. me on top of you." you gasp.

"hm," she grunts, taking another drag of her cigar. the puffs of smoke exits her mouth as she speaks, "'nd what's got you all worked up, doll?" you know she's teasing you, she knows damn well what's got you so horned up. but regardless you tell her. "you. y're crop top. tummy and abs." she snickers at your answer. finding the way you're panting like a dog in heat cute.

"but, i wear the same thing everyday. what's so different?"

a loud groan erupts from you. falling forward into her once more. "sevi," you whine. "i—"

"you what?"

blinking down to glare down at her where you're met with a smirk. oh. "you're playing with me."

her eyebrows lift and the smirk turns into a grin, but it's quickly replaced by her taking her cigar into her mouth. "i wanna cum. please." the squelching noises of your cunt on her abs fills the room. you're so overworked and restless to reach your high.

"i don't know—"

you cut her off, "please, please, please." moaning out, "been so good, thinkin' of you 'nd only you all day." giving her the best doe eyes you can muster up at this moment.

sevika's gaze softens before it turns away from you. stretching out her arm to bud the end of the cigar. "sit up f'me." doing as she obeys. the hand once holding the cigar falls back into its place on your hips. she grinds you down onto her abs, "fuck, sevi." your wetness making it easy for her to continue moving your hips back and forth. she thinks there's something so raw and intimate about how you surrender your body to her, your willingness to trust that she'll take care of you the way you need. it swells something within her chest, and when you look so pretty all glistening, soft, and your chest shallowly raising and falling to contain and exhale air that you so desperately need. she can't help but give into you.

"c'mon, pretty. cum for me." she coxes in a husky lull. her harsh grip on your plush hips grinding your aching puffy clit onto her muscle tips you over. with a final gasp you shutter, whining out as sevika helps you ride out your high, still manipulating your hips to move. you slump against her, falling straight into her. curving your back so you'd be able to litter sloppy lovesick kisses across her face. "alright, stop that." you allow sevika to pull you away from her face, showcasing your dopey grin, "y'know you love it." you argue, leaning back down to give her a quick peck. "not really." she grumbles. rolling your eyes at her response you teasingly pinch her nipple. a gasp comes from sevika, sheepishly you giggle at her hardening expression. sliding off of her body to lie next to her.

"don't know why you got off. you're just—" she doesn't finish her sentence. "'m gonna what?" confused, brows furrowed as you watch her face soften. following her line of site, you're met with sevika's entire abdomen covered in your slick, traveling all the down past her belly button. you swear you see a glint in her happy trail and you know it's not just sweat. "sorry."

her dark gaze snaps to you, "sorry? you're cleaning your mess up."

[giamee]

🌐 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 '𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘!

hsr men x f!reader .... SMUT!! 🚨🚨🚨

request ؛ ଓ @coreakin-sakarat What will the honkai star rail men play when yr having sex and who bottom or both and do they go rithm oh oh and do they use toys on u and what are their favorite parts of ur body to fuck

gia's notes ؛ ଓ i did this as more of me just... talkin abt what i think the hsr men are like in bed in order from least to most freaky in my humble opinion. i hope that you like it even though i didn't exactly hit every point u brought up :(

DAN HENG .ᐟ୨୧ starting it off sweet with him, i see dan heng as more of a bottom than anything... he's not super experienced, quite a tender lover, and i see him as remaining quite serious and stoic within the bedroom too. definitely more of a slow and sensual pace, just wants to feel it all with you <3 he's quite hesitant to try things out imo, but i reckon that you could convince him to try out using toys with some convincing! 1000% a thigh guy, really likes pulling out and painting your thighs with his cum as he watches them shake. presses kisses to your forehead as you come down from both of your highs. lowkey i get the vibe that the aftercare and the cuddling and falling asleep together is more satisfying to him than having sex. THIS MAN CRAVES SKIN TO SKIN!!!! he will interlace your fingers while fucking and kiss all over your face!!! a very sweet lover <3

GEPARD .ᐟ୨୧ this man SCREAMS pleasure service top to me. he could cum in his pants just by watching you i swear. he just wants to satisfy you as best as he can :((( your wish is his command frfr. he'll put you in whatever positions you want fully customisable experience just say the word. will sometimes pause midway through sex just to ask you if he's doing a good job and if it feels good with his big puppy dog eyes AWEE. i think he would probably be a little hesitant to try out toys, especially at first? his logic reverts to him assuming that he wasn't good enough at pleasuring you and so you have to revert to a piece of plastic... but be a bit dominant and show, don't tell, him just how good a vibrator can feel and he'll be a lot more on board with the idea <3 his whole mentality is just.. do anything to give you pleasure so if you're on the freakier side, this man is game! (PEG HIM) the little sadistic side of you gets a kick seeing tears well up in his eyes if you edge him just to hear his whines and moans... he might be a top but this man is a sub thru and thru. a bad bitch (you) tells him what to do and he listens!! anyways back to when you and him are fucking... this man is just utterly in love with your pussy, they way it gushes and clenches around him, and his absolute favourite position is any where he gets to just bury his face in ur tits while he's buried inside of you because everything is just so comforting and all of him is now surrounded by something so warm and soft... he's in heaven <3 so yeah he's a tits guy who would have thought!! no matter the shape or size HE'S PUTTING THEM IN HIS MOUTH <3 his thrusts get real sloppy at the end when he's about to cum too, starts babbling in your ear about how good it feels and how much he loves u. what a cutie pie

ARGENTI .ᐟ୨୧ to be honest? i had to think a bit about this one. to me, argenti doesn't really seem like the type to bring up using toys... but that doesn't mean that he isn't game if you mention it. he seems ... not passive exactly? but he just seems like the type to go with the flow with sex. whatever you're into he'll just be like shit i'm down let's go. not kinky per se, but he's definitely a passionate lover. very much wants to explore sensuality. ooh maybe he would be into some sort of wax play or blindfold type behaviour i take it back. would probably chuckle if you decide to get on top and place his hands on your hips to help you adjust to his size and set your own pace <3 very loving, wants to celebrate the beauty of your naked body and worship it in the name of adrila. so yeah if you've got a praise kink, HE'S YOUR MAN!!! you feel like the subject of a poem as he sings your praises, telling you how pretty you look and sound when you cum. like shiiiii that would be enough to make me blush <33 in terms of pace and stuff, i feel like he would be pretty standard? maybe on the slower side because of... you know... passion. it's nothing crazy but still a good time. he seems like he prefers to be looking up at you so RIDE THAT MAN!! maintain eye contact as you sink down on it. raise your hips back up ever so slowly and watch the slightest twitch of his brow as you swivel your hips, sinking back down on it ever so slowly. you might just see him blush. and just as the name suggests, the knight of beauty is a SIGHT to behold when he cums (probably inside).

WELT .ᐟ୨୧ yeah peepaw has got some EXPERIENCE to him lmaoo. he's got a sort of... cheekier? side to him. as an older man, though, he doesn't exactly have the same stamina as he did in his youth :( but that doesn't mean that he can't still get down and dirty with you!! quite the opposite actually. so his solution? he uses toys on you <3 he's more of a bottom but he is DEFINITELY in charge. his dirty talk OMFGG im giggling just thinking about it he would praise you and whisper such sweet words to you as he slowly splits you open on his fat cock, telling you how you're such a good girl for taking him so well, how you feel so good around him, all so he can feel you clench around him like a vice grip as he finally bottoms out <33 def would just have his hands around your waist as he moves you up and down his length when you're feeling weightless. but if he's in a more passive mood, he also LOVESSSS just sitting back and watching you struggle to ride him with a lazy adoring look in his eyes as he holds a vibrator to your clit <333 he'll coo at you as you start crying from the overstimulation, his hands wiping away your tears so tenderly and encouraging you to keep going just for him <3 a little bit of a sadistic side to him because he really does just love watching you squirm. another thigh and ass guy imo, really loves the way they jiggle as they slam down against his own thighs as you start to pick up the pace and ride him with increasing desperation. also loves watching them shake when you cum <3. so yeah as a no brainer i think one of his favourite positions would be reverse cowgirl. yum <3

BOOTHILL .ᐟ୨୧ now dont get me wrong this man FUCKS. since he's a cyborg does his dick count as a toy...? yeah fuck it let's go with it HIS BIOCOCK VIBRATES!! so the sensations on that will go CRAZYYYY. and then i'm thinking because of his synthesia beacon and stuff he doesn't exactly experience much sensation down there. so when you're having sex, what gets him off the most is just seeing your pleasure as you unravel. makes him feel good vicariously <3 so yeah definitely a missionary lover in my eyes so he can watch all your facial expressions and reactions as he hits all the right places, how your brows furrow and your eyes slide shut and eyes roll back in your head as he keeps up his unforgiving pace at juuuuust the right angle <33 but don't get me wrong he's no vanilla bitch either!! if he wants to be feeling more ... sensations he can and will make you just sit on his face for actual HOURS just eating you out to his heart's content. you'd think that his tongue is cybernetic too with the way it flicks across your clit at a borderline INHUMAN speed. but no he's just that good. some of ur most intense orgasms have been from him tonguefucking you like this, his head firmly sandwiched between your quivering thighs as you're basically humping his face as u ride out your high. and hey, he's not complaining <3 and then his smug shit-eating grin does NOT help at all when you're still trying to come back down to earth and he's sitting up wiping the slick off his face with that hungry look STILL in his eyes good lord i hope u can survive the night. this bastard has definitely ruined toys for you, they just don't feel the same any more <//3

BLADE .ᐟ୨୧ fucks hard. angry and/or jealous sex with him has just gotta be >>> 😮‍💨😮‍💨 he's on the rougher side and for MOST of the time will dom. and also tbh i don't really see him as being the type to use toys since he's more spontaneous in terms of having sex (public sex. he's got a high sex drive) but very very passionate for sure- lots of grunts and low moans right up in ur ear mhhhnrng. but also at the same time i feel like he would be quite emotionally detached from sex at first, seeing it as more like stress relief than an act of intimacy? and don't get me wrong, some of the best fucks of your life have come from him when he's just trying to release some pent up anger, but on the flip side there's a more vulnerable side to him, almost. one that's barely there any more from years of bitterness and resentment, but still manages to creep up on him on those late nights where he can't quite sleep. so if you're with him on those rare occasions, this is when you experience him not fucking you, but making LOVE. he won't talk, but he doesn't need to, not with the way he's holding you close to him and kissing you with something akin to desperation as he sinks into you and kind of just... stays there for a bit. it's oddly comforting to him, and if he's feeling especially weak he'll need some comfort- just to get him through the night. it's these nights where you take control more, setting a slow and sweet pace and kind of just... hushing him and whispering sweet words to him as you slowly let yourself grind over him, feeling the way he twitches inside of u <333 but yeah back to not vulnerable blade. a fan of quickies for sureeee (see: high sex drive) another tit guy because i am biased. the force of his thrusts in some dark alleyway or hidden corner will have them jiggling and threatening to fall out of whatever shirt you wear. and if he's got you lifted up in his arms, your legs wrapped around him as you're chest to chest with each other, he just can't tear his eyes away from your boobs. leaves bites on them, laves over them like a damn dog until they're coated in saliva and stiff and perked up because of how cold it feels when drying on your skin. if you're in doggystyle, you'll feel his hands clasp over them from behind, a few short and sweet squeezes to them before his blunt nails are flicking over your nipples just to hear you squeal <3

AVENTURINE .ᐟ୨୧ just like blade, he very much has two different modes. let's start with the freaky one bc that's fun. he's quite open to experiment with all aspects of sex- who's in charge, who's topping, toys, positions, you name it. he trusts you enough to do anything with or to you short of causing each other pain. so yeah he's a freak alright!! i feel like if you're in an established relationship, he'll feel guilty due to the amount if time that he spends away from you because of his job, and make it up to you by spoiling you with gifts... he loves to buy you new toys to try out as he sits back and just watches as you squirm and then writhe in pleasure as he slowly palms himself, eventually unzipping his trousers and jerking himself off until he cums all over u <33 definitely gets a kick out of seeing his cum painting your pretty face and how your tongue darts out to catch it before it drips onto the floor <333 or maybe he just strokes himself to stay hard, his eyes hungrily watching you as your own remain transfixed on his cock, the flushed tip disappearing with every stroke of his hand, the slick noises of his precum overpowering the buzzing hum of the dildo inside of you. and then when neither of you can handle the tension any more, dying to feel each other's touch, after you've cum a couple of times and are all nice and sensitive for him, then and ONLY then will he finally put it in, quickly setting a pace to fuck your brains out like a wild animal <3 lovessss doggystyle or the speedbump position because then he's all up in your guts and ur moans/screams of pleasure are just music to his ears. definitely the type to go a little feral bc... yeah. so yeah that's freaky mode! but like blade he has a softer side to him UNLIKE blade it is still definitely there and more accessible... but that doesn't mean he exposes it to you just like that either. but yeah if he's feeling more vulnerable emotionally, especially right after he wakes up from a nightmare while you're groggily waking up next to him, he just needs comfort. you holding him and stroking his hair, telling him how he's safe and how much you love him. if you've been together for a while and he really trusts you, he might even cry. almost begs you to call him kakavasha instead of aventurine, and you oblige. and then as soon as his name leaves your lips, he's kissing you hard, gradually letting them become tender as you undress each other with the utmost amount of care. it's love that motivates him, from what you can feel from his fingers tracing your skin and how soft his lips press against yours. he lets out a quiet moan as he sinks into you and basks in your warmth for a bit, letting his arms now wrap around your frame tightly, holding you to himself as if you would disappear any moment. and you hug him too, draw patterns on his back, stroke his hair and hum as you tell him how much you love him, listening to the sound of his shaky breaths as you slowly raise your hips, sinking back down inch by inch to hear him hiss. at first, he would still refuse to let you see his face when you have sex like this, not until you gently coax him to look at you, and you see the crystalline tears already escaping from his eyes. he's definitely the type to cry during sex like this- something so soft and tender that it's overwhelming to him for so many reasons- the vulnerability of it all, how much you love and care for him written all over your face, the way you squeeze against him so perfectly. and then he buries his face in your chest as you keep whispering words of affirmation to him and he cums so fast, deep inside of you and then he stays even when he feels himself go soft. just because it feels nice. and he falls asleep just like that, clinging to you, the person he loves.

JING YUAN .ᐟ୨୧ another member of team lazy but pussydrunk (him and welt have permanent memberships lmfao) whenever the two of you fuck it usually starts with him making you work for it. involving either you getting off by grinding on his thigh or riding him, desperately throwing your weight back onto him to even simulate the feeling of his powerful thrusts- all in vain as he merely sits there, looking up at you with a maddening smile and just WATCHING you... what a creep <3 but yeah he loves loves loves seeing how worked up and whiny you get for him to do something, anything, just for him to do the exact opposite, placing two firm hands on your hips to effectively get you to stop, and you whine again from the loss of friction. and he'll merely smile, telling you how you're such a good girl for him, getti my off from watching you get so so close, just to do it over and over again. orgasm denial and edging really are his two best friends fr. so he's not really a strict dom but more of a tease, you get me? i think that YES he will use toys. really gets a kick out of vibrating panties or a vibrator inside of you that he can remote control <33 just really enjoys when you're in public trying to remain composed (what a creep <3) keeps u constantly stimulated all day, finally making it up to you when you both get back home, fucking you properly as you're on the verge of tears and ready to cum any second. hmmm hear me out on this but i think his favourite place to cum would be your back.. like yeah finishing inside is cool and all but pulling out and cumming all over your back just drives him CRAZY and ready for another round... as soon as you recover <3

LUOCHA .ᐟ୨୧ LORDDDDDD he's like jing yuan but even WORSE. he's dangerous too because in his eyes, it isn't him or a toy but him AND a toy. this man will have u in his lap thighs spread legs hanging over his knees so he can keep them open as he has one hand gripping your chin forcing to look at yourself in a mirror, the other hand holding a vibe to yr clit <33 every time your eyes start to roll back he'll do a light slap to your face, forcing you to hold eye contact with him through the mirror, his feline eyes dancing with mirth at your already fucked-out expression. and then when he's sure that his gaze is holding your attention, he'll let go of your face, letting his hand snaie downwards until his hands are collecting your slick on his fingers before pushing into you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek that contradicts how hard he's fingering you <3 squirting is not an achievement but the new standard with him!! that man is NOT relenting until you coat his arm and the floor (even the mirror) he really likes making you kiss him just after you cum- when your brain is foggy from the intensity of your orgasm, you can barely hear, let alone process what he's saying, and when u finally manage to connect your lips to his the kiss is just so sweet n sloppy, showing how worked up he is already <33 he's a little mean with it but you wouldn't have it any other way!! because that man knows what you need and will DELIVER. and he loves alllll of you. especially your pussy. and ass lol

DR RATIO .ᐟ୨୧ ok stay with me now cos this one's more of a scenario but!!! imagine that you haven't seen veritas in a while because you've both been busy but he messages you, saying how he'll finally be back soon!!! and ur just so excited that you can't contain it, and all those lonely nights are starting to tally up... your hands just don't do the trick any more and you finally cave, getting out your old reliable dildo to try and satiate your lust. trying your hardest to focus on veritas while you fuck yourself so that you'll be able to cum... pretending that it's his cock instead of some silicone... moaning out his name into your room with your eyes screwed shut to try trick your brain into believing that it's really him!! and it seems to work because you can feel that coil in you begin to tighten, and just when ur about to cum you feel a hand on top of yours, startling you out of your impending orgasm. and you open your eyes to see none other than the man who you had been fantasising about just now <3 and he's got this smirk on his face and a certain look in his eyes, and when you glance down you can see that he isn't exactly... unaffected from watching you earlier <33 i feel like he would degrade you a little, calling you such a stupid girl for needing to think of him just to even get close to cumming <333 and you'll whine and get embarrassed, trying to hide yourself with the covers, but deep down you know he's right so you peek at him from behind your lashes, batting them and begging him to help you as sweetly as you can. and how can he deny you when you're just so sweet and submissive for him? he'll be quick to take out his cock, slipping the head through your folds, letting it catch as it skims past your needy hole, letting the tip slap against your sensitive clit just to watch your whole body twitch as he chuckles to himself before bullying his cock into you. even after fucking yourself it's still a stretch, especially cos he has you in a mating press, his strong hands keeping your thighs pinned as he puts hisbweight behind his thrusts, really slamming into you until you're bouncing back against the mattress <33 a good hard fuck that hits all the right spots he needs to in order for you to cum HARD. but if he's feeling mean, he won't even oblige your request, instead being all smug and settling back on his haunches, goading you to keep going and make yourself cum without him because you're just so close, you can do it. watches your pathetic attempts to do so as you huff and beg him because you just can't without him <//3 and maybe if you beg hard enough he'll consider helping you out... even though it's just so entertaining to watch you keep trying. ironically enough, it's the way he calls you his sweet girl as he finally pushes into you that sends you over the edge more than any of your own touches did. and once you ride out that high, body no longer convulsing on his dick, he'll pull out of you just to flip you onto your stomach, then pull your hips up to meet his before fucking into you to make you really cum because of him this time <33

SAMPO .ᐟ୨୧ this man is MOST DEFINITELY an experimentalist!!! 1000% down for literally anything. you use toys on each other el oh el. the epitome of a switch. he'll top or bottom too, it's always a good time with him. definitely a freak. tbh i headcanon him as having a crazy oral fixation... if he's not sucking on your tits already then put your fingers in his mouth!! he'll have hearts swimming in his eyes, especially if you let them slide to the back of his throat until he gags and his eyes get all teary!!! definitely a sight to behold if u start fingerfucking his throat. or maybe just gag him with your panties, letting urself hear his muffled whines and moans as you finally free his cock and deepthroat him <33 oh god his whines and moans... get this man on twitter NEEOOOWWW. as a top he's definitely more goofy about it, not super strict. sex is about making sure you both feel good and just having a good time im his eyes.

GALLAGHER .ᐟ୨୧ ... this man... a certified freak. me personally im not into it but IF U LIKE ANAL THIS IS UR GUY 1000%%%. he def loves ur ass more than anything. the type to stick a finger in as he makes out with you or just let his finger tease the ring of muscle, circling it ever so slowly to feel u squirm while sat naked in his lap. when he eats you out he'll let his tongue drop a little lower to tease both of your holes. if u let him he'll eat your ass with GUSTO. and YES he's using toys on you you're not safe... buttplugs with the cute jewel on them and when you're in public he'll give your ass a slap or squeeze just to see your face change as you feel it press a little deeper into you... he'll have a vibrator fucking into your pussy as he's all up in your guts, laughing at the way you can't even form words right now. yeahhh he's a FREAK. oh and did i mention that he's an ass guy??

SUNDAY .ᐟ୨୧ ohohoho. this man has actual YEARS of pent up sexual frustration under his belt. his wings. whatever. he's a man who thrives off of control, and this is no exception in the bedroom. massive dom. both soft and hard. but more hard <3. really gets off on u calling him sir LAWLLL. lowkey i see him being into some real freaky bdsm stuff... cos hes got the whole sexually repressed catholic thing going on n all yknow. likes seeing u kneeled w your hands tied behind your back. you stripped naked while hes fully clothed and smiling so sweetly as he watches you try and get yourself off by humping his shoe. anything for that power imbalance with him hrrrrng. and if youre feeling a bit more bratty, touch his wings. preen them, blow air on them, even grip onto them HARD with your fingers and it'll get him all riled up. and then that sweet smiling facade will drop and youll see his eyes change into something a touch more feral as he pins u down and fucks u hard and properly. just to remind u who's really in control <3. the aftercare goes crazy, naturally. but then i also saw this post talking abt how hes a PEOPLE PLEASER and i agree 10000% so when he's feeling more soft, your pleasure is his greatest reward. a headrush mix of sweet praise and filthy degradation. telling you how you're a nasty bitch who's just so good for him... how you take him so well like the filthy slut you are.... and he's just so so composed during it all like an ANGEL EHFHWJFJE it makes ur head spin istg. yeah he's a freak in the sheets LOLL

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ...... eat it 'til your teeth rot!

[ SMUT ] how the hsr men eat pussy!

alternatively, find my hsr masterlist here! ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

[yeyinde]

Ghost has a thing for fucking you when you're asleep—

(—and maybe one day he'll get around to telling you about it, too.)

noncon/dubcon somnophilia. spit kink. brief anal.

He likes you like this. When you're soft, pliant. A malleable little doll under his hands that he can shape to his will. Bend.

You're so small compared to him. Tiny. The difference unmoors the chains keeping his vile, nasty urges at bay, until they spool—horrific and depraved—around him. Unleashes the need in the back of his head that screams, howls, and tells him to own, possess. Claim.

Ruin you—

And you belong to him. Everything. Every part of you is his, down to your goddamn marrow. Your bones are marked with his name, false starts carved into milky bones.

he doesn't really see the problem with taking what is his.

—and so, he does.

His sweet, sweet girl who can barely take his cock when you're awake—too much, too fat—and so he makes do with slaking his hideous, bestial need on your body when you're asleep. When he can fold your knees up to your ears, and fuck you as deep, as hard, as he wants without worrying about you seeing the want rotting in his eyes, and run—

The stretch, you whine. He's too much for you. The biggest you've ever had. It isn't meant to stroke his ego, he knows this, but still. He preens when you add, liquid and pained, by a considerable margin, Simon—

Like this, asleep, you're relaxed. Liquid. 

And with the sleeping pills crushed into your bedtime tea you always (always) take an hour before bed, he can do whatever he wants to do. However he wants. 

Splits you open with his tongue, fucking into you until you're sloppy and wet. Spitting on your cunt and pushing the foamy glob into your tight hole at his own leisure without having a rain of indignant fists come down across his shoulders, disgusted by the degrading action. Don't spit on me, Simon, that's gross—

(but you swallow it like a good girl when he grabs you by the neck, thumb digging into the dent of your larynx until you open nice and wide for him, tongue sliding out like you're begging for it—)

His little hellion awake. But asleep? 

He gets your pussy messy with his spit, fucking it into you with two fingers—another benefit to fucking you asleep is that he doesn't have to bother with building up, can stretch you out on two fingers without those breathy little mewls spilling out, telling him it's too much. Then three with his mouth glued to your clit, feeling your cunt clench down on him as he bullies it with his tongue. The pressure is too much, too intense. You'd be howling if you were awake, but—

You're not. 

The only sound is the lews squelch of him fucking you open with three fingers, sucking noisily at your pebbled clit. 

Music to his ears. 

And if he's in a hurry. Well. Skipping foreplay all together is fine. Just has to spit on his palm, coat it over his shaft, and make you open up for him. Splitting you open on just his cock. All tight—agonizingly so—around him. 

You can take it. 

He knows you can. You take everything he throws at you—knees pushed to your ears, cock bulging out from your belly. Head buried in a pillow as he flattens his body over yours, and ruts into your cunt while he smothers you under his bulk. Indescribably tight like this with your thighs squeezed together between his own. On your side with your leg thrown over his hip, or held high in the air. 

He likes it best when you're on your back, though. Soft and sweet. Little hiccups leaving your slack lips as he forces you to take every inch he has to offer. Bullying his fat cock into your pussy. Over and over again—

Quenching his unbearable lust on you until it's slated on your flesh, cunt stuffed full of his cum.

Or your ass. 

You're wary about him burying his fat length into your ass. It'll hurt, is the biggest excuse you like to give, hands tucked against the swell of your bottom as if that would be enough to keep him away. You've never done that before and taking him in your pussy was already a lot, you couldn't imagine taking him there, too—

It's a problem. Too bad for you, he has always been task oriented. Someone who likes the squash issues under his thumb. 

And that's exactly what he does. 

Starts with his thumb shoved inside your hole when he's fucking your pussy. Then a finger. Two. Likes to lick at your cunt before shoving your knees to your chest, lifting your ass in the air, and devouring it with the same rapacious appetite. Tongue fucking into you, getting you all sloppy and wet, stretching you open so he can seat you down on his cock. All the way to the base. Stretching your rim wide around his girth. Pounding your tight little ass until he cums inside of you. Filling you over and over again until it leaks out, soaking into the sheets below. 

His pretty little doll. All fucked out and messy. 

With you asleep, Simon can take from you—as much as he needs to fill this greedy, gaping maw inside of himself—without burdening you. Scaring you away. 

And he'd rather not have to chase you down like a dog—

It's the perfect arrangement that lets him exorcise himself of the horrible, awful, things he wants to do to you. Quench the bloodlust, the violence, that drums up in the back of his head, ugly and noxious, that leaks poison into his blood. Makes him see you torn to pieces by his enemies, wrenched away by the people who think they know what's best for you. Taken. The urge to claim you is animalistic. Primal. 

This—

This is bloodletting. It's spilling the rot from inside himself so it doesn't fester. Turn septic. Gangrenous. Eating at his tissue until his hands no longer belong to himself, but to the mercy of his monstrous need. 

It lets him ruin you, tear into you like a beast, without worrying about you running from him. Fleeing from this rapacious green he holds deep in the fibrils of his chest. Hewed into his essence, subsumed into his marrow. 

Simply put: he needs this. Just like you need him. Simon. Need him like the air you breathe—

(And sometimes, sometimes, you get this peculiar look on your face before bed. A frisson. Unease, pensive. It splits over your brows, an evanescent tremor. He thinks you might be more aware than you let on. That you know about this hideousness inside him, this putrid greed that sloshes around the edges of his eyes sometimes, trying to bleed in, trickling down over his periphery before he can stop it. 

But it dissolves into complacency before he can chisel into it, leaving nothing behind but a faint stink of stale smoke. Acrid—like doused embers. Burning his nose, his lungs—)

And when he's had his fill—stuffed that chasm inside his belly with your flesh—he cleans you up, and pulls you tight to his chest. Satiated for the time being. Falling asleep with the taste of you on his tongue, locked tight in his embrace. Tenders to your aches the next morning, as soft and supple as he can ever allow himself to be. 

There’s a place for him, he’s sure, when he lies to you, and says that you must have slept the wrong way. That maybe he was a little too hard on you the night before. And maybe if he were a better person, a better man, he might have felt some sense of guilt for it. Shame.

But instead, he coos at you and says:

It’s his fault, pet, but don’t worry he’ll take such good care of you. Licking your sore cunt all day until you grab him by the scruff of his neck, and tell him no more, please, Simon, stop, stop—it doesn’t hurt anymore, please—

He relents an hour before bed and takes you to the kitchen where you sit and drink the tea he made without a word.

Like a good girl—

And then you slip into bed in nothing but his old shirt, curling up against his chest, and whispering—soft and sweet—into his ear, "good night, Simon."

(his sweet, sweet girl.

like you're fucking begging him for it—)

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader This is the last part before the epilogue

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise honey, remember?” You nod, but your eyes stay glued to the windshield, tracking the raindrops sliding on and off the glass. “Hey,” he reaches for your hand, pulling it into his grasp, “it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m with you.” You repeat the mantra, the one you repeat in the shower, in bed, in the living room. I’m safe. I’m with you. 

He wants to look away from the road so badly long enough to see your eyes, really see them. It’s how he knows where you are, if you’re there, or here, or somewhere else. Just in case, he reminds you. “The kids are with Gaz and Cami. Soap is sleeping in the guest room. They’re all together, and they’re safe.” You nod again, but answer as a robot.

“They’re safe.” He can’t do it. He pulls the car over and you turn in alarm, watching as he steps around to the passenger side door and pulls it wide, dropping to his knee.

“Look at me-“

“You’re getting wet!” You sputter, grabbing at his jacket, but he stills you.

“Look at me, mama.” Your eyes are full of tears, and he cups your cheek. “Where are you?” Your lip wobbles.

“That room.” He pries your fingers open and places your palm over his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Your heart.”

“Your heart, sweet girl. It’s yours. Count them for me.” You shake your head, clenching your eyes shut, and he squeezes your knee. “Deep breath. Count them.”

“O-one, two, thr-we, four…” he does it with you, quietly, supporting, but not coaching. Not leading. You have to do it, you have to bring yourself back. “F-ive… five, six, seven, eight, nine…” each beat steadies your voice until you’re sitting a little straighter, breathing a little deeper.

“There she is. There’s my girl.” He wipes a tear from your cheek, “that’s it.”

“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…” you reach twenty five, and then give him a nod. He is thoroughly soaked now, but who cares. It’s not even close to what matters.

“Where are you?” He presses a slow kiss to your forehead.

“I’m here, with you.” You meet his gaze, clear and focused, and he nods.

“Okay.”

“You could have told me.”

“Not as fun, mama, I wanted it to be a surprise.” You’re standing in the middle of the room, looking around, smiling. It’s the same room he brought you to years ago. The room where he put the ring on your finger, the room you told him you’d spend the rest of your life, his life, together. The curtains are the same, the decor, even the bedspread.

“Si,” your voice wavers, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

You're surprisingly not nervous at all, though he's not that shocked. You have a few tattoos, medium sized, black and grey like his. No sleeves or anything that extensive, but you picked up a small collection during your travels. 

"Wait... are you serious?" You squeak, eyeing the chair and then the guy sitting beside it, Mark, the same guy that's done almost all of Simon's work. Simon's still not sure how he convinced him to come out here and do this, but he suspects the sentimental piece of this occasion had a lot to do with it. "What... what is it?" Simon glances at him, and then nods, holding his breath as he pulls the stencil out of the binder to lay it flat in front of you. 

It's a ring. Black and grey to match your other tattoos, but the same shape, band, everything, as the one you lost. Except- 

The stone frames three constellations. Orion, Phoenix and... "Lyra." You whisper, tracing the line work. You look up at him with tears in your eyes. "Orpheus and Eurydice." 

"Everyone says it's a tragedy, y'know? That he failed. But those people have never felt the way I feel about you." His throat is unbearably tight, and he swallows to keep it together. "They don't know how I'd go to hell to bring you home, they don't know how desperate I'd be to look back and and make sure you're still there with me," he breathes deep through his nose, chasing away the tidal wave rising in his chest. Mark, thankfully, has decided to pretend to be busy with something else. "They don't know how I'd let myself be ripped apart just to see you again. To spend eternity with you." 

"Simon..." 

"You don't have to do it," he rushes out, squeezing your hand, "just say so, and we'll leave. I won't be mad." You reach for him, tugging him close by his wrist and standing up on your tiptoes, trying to bury your face in his neck, seeking you safe space. 

"I love you. I love... I love you." He brushes your tears away. "I want it. Yes, of course. I want it." 

"You sure?" You cast one last look at the drawing, and nod. 

"Eternity with you." He smiles. 

"Eternity." 

[3amfanfiction]

Our Girlfriend pt 2

The morning after.

You can thank @disasterofastory for this piece about the morning after you had four men in your bed. Considering you'd never spoken to two of them, how is this going to go? 1.5k little ficlet of a scene. A little bit of fluffy sweetness to even out the pure smut of the first chapter.

Part one

The bed was almost empty by the time you woke up, only you and Johnny remaining. You were curled up to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart as your eyes peeled open, sticky with sleep.

You didn't move at first, just laid there content to breathe in the still morning air where nothing needed to be done. There were no deadlines to meet, no chores to complete . . . it was just you, existing.

You watched as the thick chest under your cheek raised up as he drew in the breath to speak. Your quiet morning was about to be disturbed. You held onto the few split seconds you had remaining, locking onto this peace to get you through your day.

"You awake, love?"

Because real life always came knocking.

You hummed an assent, not interested in trying to force your tongue into shapes that would make words. You felt wonderfully wrung out, with only the things occurring right this moment needing thought. There wasn't any stress about yesterday or any worry about tomorrow.

Johnny stroked along your back gently with calloused fingers, a slight tickling scratch to go along with the warm caress. It roused you enough to turn and press a kiss to the warm skin you were laying on, a non-verbal 'good morning' in place of any proper greeting.

Johnny pressed a return kiss to the crown of your head, never ceasing the running of his palm over your back. You really did love him. You knew it was fast, that people say there was no way it would last because of how quickly you two fell together but you ignored them. Johnny was something special and you were thankful he was in your life.

The sun had shifted slightly when he spoke again. "How do you feel this morning?"

As a matter of fact . . .

"Johnny." Firm. You know he'll try and wiggle his way out of an answer if he catches any hint of weakness. "What was that last night?"

He didn't respond at first. After a moment you tilted your head up to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, a serene look on his face with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"It was nice, wasn't it? I can't believe I decided to take a nap right in the middle of it though. Don't worry, love, I'll be making it up to you." He was coming to life with every word spoken. His face more animated, fingers starting to twitch and legs rubbing together. You knew you only had a few more minutes in bed before he would be up and gone—ready to start another day.

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it. Why did they all talk like we were dating? What have you been telling them?"

"Nothing that wasn't true, I promise." He turned to look beseechingly into your eyes, ensuring you saw the truth in what he was saying. "I told them about you, of course. How amazing you were—always looking out for me, being so understanding, not taking any of my shite." He grinned at the last one, ever amused by your backbone, "and they fell in love with you, just like I did. And then you went and showed me that you loved them back and I couldn't let it go. I had to bring the four of you together."

Immediately you clocked what he meant. "Johnny MacTavish, those muffins weren't—they didn't mean—" How could you even begin to explain away this misunderstanding? Especially after what happened last night? You didn't get any further before the bedroom door opened.

"Good morning, sleeping beauties," Kyle beamed as he walked in holding two coffee cups. "You two finally ready to join the rest of us?"

Oh shit. The rest of them.

How are you going to face them? You'd never even properly met two of them and you let them into your bed. You'd let the man standing in the doorway come in your mouth last night. You've never even spoken to him.

All of a sudden you found yourself tongue-tied, unable to do anything more than mumble a shy thank you as you were handed your cup of coffee. Starting to sit up you realized you were still completely naked under the blanket and looked around self-consciously for a shirt to pull on.

Kyle saw slight panic in your eyes and grabbed a t-shirt off the floor. It was the one Simon had worn last night. You thought about putting up a fuss, asking for one of your own but in the end you graciously accepted, more worried about being covered in the bold light of day than worrying about who's shirt you wore.

Comfortably covered once more you turned to face the two men, looking at you with differing shades of the same smile. You felt around the corners of your mouth and eyes to make sure there weren't any lingering crusties before you took a sip of your coffee. Your eyes widened and darted up to Kyle's face.

"Johnny hasn't stopped talking about you since he you met. Any one of us could make your drink with our eyes closed by now," he teased gently, good-natured mirth shining through his warm eyes. "I hope you don't mind, we took liberties with your kitchen. Cap and Simon are finishing breakfast right now. Well," he allowed with a small shrug, "The captain is, Simon isn't allowed near the stove. Not unless you want a bit of char on your food."

"You didn't have to do all that, here let me . . . " You worked to pull yourself from the bed without spilling your coffee or flashing anyone. "Let me get dressed and I'll be down. They're guests, they shouldn't be cooking." Of all the things. You didn't truly mind the thought of them in your kitchen but it felt like you should protest on principle. When you stood up your hips gave a worrying twinge and you braced yourself against the mattress. Yeah, maybe you should just leave them be after all.

It was embarrassing how quickly Johnny and Kyle were at your side, clearly no worse for wear after the night you all had. You'd like to see them jump up like that after having their hips spread around another's torso. Not so easy then, huh?

Waving them off exasperatedly you gingerly left the room and headed for the kitchen. You walked in just in time to see John swatting at Simon, shooing him away from the stove where he had picked up a spatula and was attempting to stir the eggs. You must have made some sort of noise because both men turned to look at you, freezing as they took you in. Standing in the kitchen with bare legs and Simon's black t-shirt, Kyle and Johnny clustered behind you, you must have made quite the sight. John was the first to come to his senses, pushing the utensil back into Simon's hand distractedly and walking over to you.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He looked you up and down, "we weren't too rough with you last night, I hope?" he questioned with a raised brow, his soft-looking mustache bristling with the movement of his mouth. It twitched while he waited for your answer—worried but fighting not to show it.

"I'm good," you reassured, "Better than, even." You smiled sweetly up at him, enjoying watching the tension leave his face, the little furrow between his brow disappearing. It almost startled you, how fond you were of these men. It was strange.

You didn't know the exact shade of blue John's eyes were but you knew he needed reading glasses if it was late at night and he was still working on paperwork. You'd never seen the way the hair curled at the nape of his neck but you knew he liked deep-tissue massages after tough missions.

So strange. You knew them intimately and as strangers all at once, a unique dichotomy to be in. You wondered if they felt the same way. They knew how you took your coffee and what you would normally make for yourself for breakfast. Was it so hard to believe they were in the same boat as you? That they knew you as deeply as you knew them?

You found it was easy to fall into their orbit. All of them drifting around the others in ever-changing patterns. Present but not suffocating.

They liked to keep a hand on you though, for all that they gave each other room to breathe. They would take turns standing beside you after you took a seat—a hand placed low on your back as they came in for a kiss or moving over to hold your hand while they spoke about anything under the sun.

You laughed when the eggs Simon had been tasked to look over had to be tossed out after smoke started wafting from the pan. The happy peals doing more to settle the men than you knew, because hadn't you realized? They were already falling for you too.

Next

[writerpeach]

Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

---

Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 

"When has that ever stopped us before?" 

She has a point. 

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.” 

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 

And then it's all over for both of you. 

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple. 

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever. 

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 

And truly, both of you wish it never would. 

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor." 

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 

But maybe you won't. 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

come back. l Joel Miller

Summary: first steps together

Warnings:  +18, smut, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that), Ellie is mean to Joel

A/N: I guess I'm not done with them yet. Sorry!

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Everything was getting out of control, or maybe that's how it was supposed to be. Maybe he had already forgotten what it was like to lose control over himself, to be carried away by the moment and emotions, when instincts take over you, when you're a little selfish. Now it was all happening at once and Joel felt like a hurricane was raging in his body.

Your lips tasted of sweet wine, he felt the curves of your body under his hands, your fingers were intertwined in his hair. And he felt amazing. 

You were sitting astride his lap. The dress you were wearing was rolled up enough so that Joel's hands had access to your thighs.

Holy shit! Everything he had closed so tightly years ago was now exploding with new force.

He invited you to dinner, to spend the evening as if the world outside the walls of Jackson hadn't gone crazy, and you were just two people close to each other. When you showed up at his door in that dress, Joel believed that this could really happen.

You looked different than usual. You were a little embarrassed, it had been years since you last wore something nice. Joel's reaction was also specific, he was totally surprised and had a hard time greeting you.

And now you were on this couch, and his tongue was deep in your throat. Big, strong hands squeezed your buttocks, and you moaned feeling the hard bulge in his jeans under you.

"Wait." he whispered, pulling away from your lips for a moment, his hair was already a total mess from your hands. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Joel..." you sighed, smiling. "Do you think I would wear a dress if I wasn't sure?"

You saw him swallow. The last parts of his brain were trying to fight something he wanted so badly. He saw your glazed eyes, swollen lips, you were breathing deeply and your chest was heaving gently.

"Don't you like me?" Your question tore him from his stream of thoughts.

He grabbed your hand and slid it between your bodies where his hard cock was trying to get out of his jeans. You smiled and bit your lower lip feeling the hard shape under your fingers.

"That's a nice compliment." you stated "Please, Joel... I've been thinking about you for so long. Don't make me wait."

"Were you thinking about me?" he asked and you nodded eagerly.

"I didn't want to tell you anything though. We were friends, partners. Besides, Ellie was with us. I didn't want to, I didn't want to say something that you wouldn't reciprocate, and I would ruin what we had."

"Fuck, darling." he sighed, with difficulty pulling your hand away from his crotch. Just a little more and he would have exploded into his jeans like a fucking teenager. "I- I thought about you too. So many times..."

"Did you touch yourself then?" he looked at you surprised. "Once, when you were on watch, I woke up and I think I heard you. I didn't want to disturb you, but then I heard my name and..."

Joel cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess I did. It's embarrassing."

"It's sexy." you corrected him and kissed him hard so he would definitely believe your words. "Take me to your bed, Joel."

You didn't have to repeat it a second time.

Although Joel had seen you naked before, he had never seen you like this. His eyes took you all in. When the dress fell to the floor, his heart stopped for a moment, then started racing.

"What do you think?" you asked uncertainly.

He was unable to answer, his voice caught in his throat. Instead, his hands rested on your face and he kissed you hard. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt and soon moved to his chest.

Joel couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like this. Gently, with feeling. Your closeness and tenderness were peeling off layers of him, and it wasn't just about clothes. 

You stumbled backwards and your legs hit the edge of the bed. Joel slowly laid you down, and then his eyes moved over your entire body.

"Stunning." He said quietly, and you could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

He slowly unbuckled the belt on his jeans and slid them down, his dark eyes never leaving your face. Without a word, his hands reached for the edges of your panties and slid them too.

Your skin was already so sensitive that every touch of his was felt by you even more strongly. You had never felt anything like this before.

Joel climbed onto the bed and closed you between his broad shoulders. Your lips found each other again. The heat radiating from his body was overwhelming and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You wanted to feel him next to you, on you, inside you, in every way possible.

Only him.

Kisses went down to your neck and cleavage, you moaned softly as he squeezed your breast.

"You're perfect..." he whispered "So fucking perfect..."

"Joel, please..." you moaned.

You needed anything to help you, to give you relief, from the growing arousal between your thighs. And he gave it to you. The same hand slid down your hip and found your hot center, you were already wet and slippery with desire.

"For me?" Joel smiled slyly, and you felt the heat creep up your neck.

"Please..."

The colossal fingers slid over your folds and soon you felt a pleasant pressure as they slid into your heated core.

"Fuck, baby..." Joel looked in awe where his fingers disappeared inside you "You wrap them so well. I can't wait to be inside you."

You couldn't answer. The feeling was overwhelming, you would never be able to give yourself something like that. Joel's fingers seemed to find all the spots in you that made your head spin. You gasped as his warm lips captured your nipple, sucking hard. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling it harder than you intended. You were so close...

"I'm holding you, baby girl." his warm breath on your sternum "Let it go."

He lightly bit your other breast, his fingers sliding in and out of you harder and harder and soon you were tightening your legs around his hand as the pleasure flooded your body.

"Fuuuuck!" you moaned, arching your back.

Joel had never seen you more beautiful. He wanted more. To see, to feel, to taste, to experience. With you. 

He slid down his boxers, and his hard, swollen cock appeared in full. Joel grabbed it at the base and rubbed your juices along its entire length.

"It's been a while." he said, noticing your gaze. "I can...fuck... I might not last long."

"I don't care, Joel." you said. "I want to feel you. This is enough for me. I want you to cum too."

The head of his cock brushed against your entrance. For a moment you felt anxiety whether he would fit, whether you would be enough for him, but then you felt him start to slide into you. Inch by inch. 

Your walls stretched and took him inside, your hands tightened around his strong shoulders. When Joel entered all the way, you both froze for a moment. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, breathing deeply.

"Fuck..." he sighed "I didn't expect this, give me a moment."

"Take as much as you need." You replied, stroking his shoulders. "You feel wonderful. You fill me completely."

After a short moment, his hips moved. He pulled out a little and pushed, as if to see if he could hold out. You pulled your legs up, and he tightened his grip on your thigh, then lifted his head and looked straight into your eyes. You didn't need words.

Joel's movements were steady, aimed straight at that spot he found inside you, that made you fall apart under his hands. He wanted to see it again, he wanted to feel you clenching around his cock now. Your panting mixed with the dirty sounds of skin slapping against skin, with how wet you were as he entered you at that steady pace.

You pulled his face to yours, kissing him hard. A hot tongue slipped between your lips and you moaned, but he silenced you well. He hit you harder, the air flew out of your lungs. Again and again. 

You woke up everything in him, between your thighs he could find fulfillment and redemption, he wanted it all, and you gave it to him with pleasure.

Another orgasm was building inside you incredibly fast.

"Joel..." you moaned.

He rested his arms on either side of you and didn't slow down. His eyes were black as night, he wanted to see you lose yourself in him again. He needed it.

"Give it to me again, baby. Don't hold back." he panted.

You didn't have a chance to answer. Another wave flooded your body and all your senses. Your eyes rolled back, you almost bit your lip. Joel didn't slow down, even though he was already close to the edge.

"Fuck!' he groaned loudly and pulled out of you.

His seed spurted onto your lower abdomen in hot streams. Although he was breathing deeply, he felt like he was constantly out of breath. He squeezed his eyelids shut trying to calm down. Only your delicate hand, which rested on his cheek, brought him back to life.

"Shit, baby..." he mumbled "I'll clean it up right away. I didn't think that... That was..."

You lifted yourself up and kissed him, and Joel returned the kiss with pleasure. You felt the smile that appeared on his lips and you smiled to yourself. 

This was it. This was the guy who was always there for you, who always gave you his arm as support, who shielded you with his body, who was there for you. He was everything.

His heart gave a strange throb when, going downstairs, he heard familiar chatter in the kitchen. Ellie was delighted with something and was telling you about something, and the pleasant smell of breakfast and coffee filled the house.

His clean shirt clung to his still damp body, and his hair was still wet, even though he had combed it back. When he woke up next to you in the morning, he couldn't help himself. You were still a bit sleepy when he slid into you, but you welcomed him with pleasure. 

It was slow, tender and gentle. He imagined mornings like this when he allowed his thoughts to be carefree for a moment. After everything, he pulled you into the shower, where his hands shamelessly explored your body. He didn't know the words to describe what he felt.

When he went down to the kitchen, Ellie's gaze immediately landed on him. A victorious smile appeared on her face.

"I see the evening was a success." she said, and seeing Joel frowned, she quickly added "Can you still do these things, old man?" 

You barely managed to stop yourself from bursting out laughing and were glad that you were standing with your back to Joel, making him coffee. Ellie was probably going to give him hell.

"That's none of your business, kid." Joel grumbled.

"I hope you're wrapping yourself up, because I'm not going to babysit your kids." she added. "You have to be a fucking responsible adult, Joel."

"Can you... Fuck!"

You quickly turned around and put the cup of coffee in front of him, giving him a gentle smile. Ellie looked at both of you and shook her head.

"I think I'll go now." she said, standing up and putting the last piece of toast in her mouth. "The atmosphere is getting stuffy."

"It's not getting stuffy at all." Joel replied, but she was already putting on her jacket.

"Wrap yourself up!"

"Ellie!"

The girl smiled at him widely, seeing that she hit all the soft spots and quickly gathered her things. Soon the front door slammed and her footsteps echoed on the porch.

"Don't be mad at her, she loves to tease you." you said seeing Joel roll his eyes "She was happy to see me here this morning."

"The house was empty without you, she wasn't the only one who missed your presence."

He walked up to you, his hands resting on your waist. You were wearing some of your old clothes and he wished it was yesterday's dress. You looked so good in it.

"I'm glad you stayed," he said.

"Me too." you replied stroking his cheek, he kissed the inside of your wrist tenderly and you smiled "Are you hungry? I made breakfast."

"Come back here." Joel interrupted you, a small wrinkle appearing between your eyebrows "Move back here. I don't want another morning without you, it was torture."

"Joel..." your lips lightly brushed his "Are you sure? Maybe we shouldn't..."

"I'm fucking sure. Listen, I've wasted a lot of time. I don't want to do this anymore. When you left..." he sighed as if he remembered something really bad "It wasn't just this house that was empty, you know."

"I felt the same way. I was hurt, but I couldn't stop thinking about you or Ellie. You're all I have."

"So come back to us. To me. Please..."

Your smile was the answer he needed. He leaned in, kissing you hard. That day, he felt like he was finally alive.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[comicaurora]

You mentioned in a previous ask about Arcane that wanting to do something better can be a great motivator, but recently I've seen a lot of discussion about fanworks created out of "spite" like Spiderman Lotus or that Transformers fan film. Do you think these come from different feelings, leading to their end result, or that the motivation just needs to be handled carefully?

Ah, I see the confusion. When you have ideas for what a story could do, and then the story goes in a different direction and bypasses what you thought it would do, that can be an incredibly useful motivator for using that unused inspiration for telling your own story. Taking someone else's completed artwork and saying "move over, idiot, I'll show you how it's done" is a recipe for hubristic self-immolation.

Setting out to "fix" someone's work has to be approached very carefully. Artistic criticism is a complicated skill, but it isn't treated that way. Especially in the age of the internet, several wildly different things have been conflated under "criticism", and I think that's why spite-motivated "fixes" almost always end up tripping on their shoelaces and falling flat.

Art critique - "fixing" someone's work - is about figuring out how to make the art the most effective version of itself. Determine what it's going for, and make suggestions for how the artist could improve the execution of that goal. Clarify a confusing moment, change the score a little to be more emotionally impactful, break up the pacing with moments to breathe, tighten up the pacing to maintain the frantic vibes.

However, the broad perception of what art critique is has been bundled together with several other forms of criticism, including snarky reviews (a judgment of quality rendered after a work is completed and aimed at prospective audiences so they don't end up wasting their money), general knee-jerk mockery (it is easy and fun to score points off of other people's sincerity via a little casual bullying), critical analysis (taking apart how a story works to learn from it, a useful approach for other artists trying to improve their own skills) and, of course, fanfiction.

Ahh, fanfiction! If you don't like a story, you can just take the characters, setting, premise, worlbuilding, and the general shape of the plot - ignoring the fact that at this point you've borrowed about 80% of the work that went into building the original story already - and then you can just make the characters do what you wanted instead. If you think Spider-Man would be better if everyone was miserable and grieving a dead buddy the whole time, you can do that! Two hours of misery for everyone!

This approach is ostensibly trying to accomplish what art critique does - to make a better version of the story. But in practice, it's almost never interested in interrogating what the story was actually going for. In fact, it's actively scornful of what the story was going for. It doesn't take it apart to see what did work, it just says "I didn't like that and I could do better" and produces something trying not to be like the original it disliked.

I kind of think of it like this. If you ate a meal and you were like "there's not enough salt in this," you would not produce a better meal by focusing exclusively on loading it down with all the salt you could find, even if you were starting with all the same ingredients. Do you understand how they were put together to begin with? How the meat was brined, how the vegetables were cooked, what seasonings went where? Do you think all it needed to make it work was salt?

So you get fanworks that do indeed focus on the part that the fanartist thought was missing. You get Spider-Man Is A Sad Jerk For Two Hours. It accomplished what the fanartist wanted, but it fails in its true goal of being Like The Original But Better, because it never actually made the effort to understand what made the original tick. Why do people like Spider-Man in his other movies? Well, there's lots of reasons that work for different audiences - he's funny, he's good-hearted, he's graceful and well-choreographed, his fight scenes are fluid and exciting, his dynamic with the people of New York is lively and comedic, he's hapless and hurting but he always tries his best, he gets knocked down but he always gets back up-- there are many reasons to like these stories. But if all you can focus on is what you wanted them to add, you'll have a lot of trouble parsing out what functional elements you'll need to carry over into your fanfiction to not lose the core of what made it actually mostly work.

If all you focus on is accentuating the bits you wanted them to do without recognizing the parts that were working fine, you end up with a heaping plate of salt.

✨ as the ask states, this post is very specifically about spite-motivated "I can do it better than the writers" fanworks and not fanfiction in general ✨

[catboybiologist]

One of the most interesting facets of the human body is the way our brains sometimes "generate" information. The brain can't stand being unstimulated, so lacking sensory stimuli, it invents or exaggerates stuff on its own.

It's like the blind spot in your eye, which is filled in by the brain. But it manifests in so many other ways too. Think about getting up in the middle of the night, let's say to get a glass of water. It's dark, and silent. So your brain desperately tries to fill in gaps of perception.

As you slide off the bed, you'll swear your ears are picking up the sound of your own footsteps, even if you're stepping lightly and without any kind of footwear. In this case, there's very real senses that your brain is amplifying, and maybe even misinterpreting- the pressure of weight on your feet being "misread" as something different.

The kitchen is a place with so many smell-heavy memories associated with it. As you enter it with your empty cup, olfaction centers in your brain will start going wild trying to create something from nothing to fill in that gap. Usually, the experience of this is a faint, almost metal-tinged scent, kind of what you smell on the metal slide of a hot playground.

Your vision is not exempt from this as well, especially in areas of high contrast. If the interior of your apartment is dark, and there's soft light coming in from nearby windows, your neurons cling to that. At the periphery of your vision, you might start to notice the light "dance" a little. Shadows will blend just a tad as your sensory neurons try to keep up with changing lighting conditions. Sometimes, your brain fills in this "movement" as familiar shapes.

The burble of water coming from the sink is a comparative sensory feast for your brain, and it almost dispels all other "false" inputs.

When the sink is shut off, though, your brain is going into overdrive. It just got what it needed, and it now expects that level of stimulation- so it's gonna start inventing all sorts of things. You might start to see those dancing shadows in areas for smaller contrast now- lights from kitchen clocks, color changes or art on your walls, indicator lights on computers- coalescing into strange, thin humanoid shapes that dispel the moment you look at them. Makes sense though- humans are what we see moving around the most on a day to day basis, and our brains just work on pattern recognition. They fill in what you know, and when you add more information by taking a peek, your brain settles down.

Walking back to your bed, you might notice that the footsteps that once seemed so loud now don't seem loud enough, as if the sound is falling dead before it can carry. The floorboards, which used to make you jump when they creaked, now make no sound. Your brain is slowly normalizing, and doesn't need to fill in those gaps anymore. Hopefully that will help you get back to a restful sleep.

You lie down back in your bed, take a sip of that water, and for a moment look at the room around you. As you slowly fall asleep, the last errant "misfirings" of your brain will come together in more "comprehensive" ways. The dancing shadows from your peripheral vision might start showing up in your direct line of sight. They'll probably look like a figure coming towards you, as those shadows occupy more of your vision. Pattern recognition is a powerful thing!

The last moments before you fall asleep are where your mind is going wild, trying to put together so many different inputs, both real and false. You might feel chills, or even a cold hand on your leg. It'll pull from memory as well. As darkness falls across your vision, the shadows may contort into the face of a loved one you left behind long ago, sitting atop a wiery, inhuman body.

Make sure to get a restful sleep, and ignore these stimuli. Ignore the feeling of breathe in your neck when you close your eyes. Ignore the feeling of your blankets parting as you drift away. Ignore the figure that was formed from those shadows. They'll be gone come morning.

They'll be gone come morning.

They'll be gone come morning.

They'll be gone come mo

[myfictionaldreams]

So I saw that you said you can take specific marauder requests. How about reader is insecure but the guys don't know it and she goes out to buy clothes and new lingerie that she thinks they might like because in her head she thinks if she doesn't look like the girls she researched they will leave her for either just eachother or all the other girls in the school. So when they are getting into it sirius realizes that she has a new bra (you can make up the rest of the scenario but preferably after he finds out she has a new bra angst happens and then fluffy smut and then the very end in fluff please)

What are you wearing? // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.

Requested by: Thank you for answering my beck and call for a specific Marauders idea, I hope you enjoy your request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff (lots), foursome, self-doubt/low self-esteem, anxiety, crying/breakdown, pet names, making out, Remus has words of wisdom, discussing emotions, romantic gestures (a little cheesy), nipple play, body worship, dirty talk, teasing, begging, oral sex, fingering, possessive behaviour, restraints, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink (!), creampie, rough sex

Words: 8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was the latest fashion, created by muggles to wear luxurious, expensive lingerie bodysuits that uncomfortably hugged curves and pushed your breasts into busty mounds that they unnaturally did not sit at. However from the whispers from other students as they secretly hide in corners, sharing magazines and boasting about which woman looked best in the underwear, it was what was the latest fashion and everyone seemed to be loving it. So despite the discomfort, despite the desire to itch your skin against the lace around your hips, you kept the lingerie under your uniform, hoping to surprise one of the boys throughout the day.

It wasn’t that you never wore nice underwear, usually, it was a simple lace bra that softly cupped your breasts, the material transparent enough that your areolas were visible and had your boyfriends dropping to their knees to beg at touching and worshipping your body.

But like previously mentioned, this new style of lingerie was apparently very in right now and you wanted to keep up with the latest trends, even more so to please Remus, James and Sirius. It was hard enough pleasing one boyfriend but three? It felt like endless pressure to keep up, even though you knew that feeling was only from the little devil on your shoulder, the one that spouted negative thoughts that you were never enough.

It was nothing on behalf of your boyfriend’s to make you feel this way. In fact, they always went above and beyond to show you how much you were truly loved. But then that voice in the back of your mind would come back, reminding you that they were the most popular men in school, had endless other students lusting over them and it felt like you were competing, even though you already had the prize.

So this was why you had decided to splash the cash on the expensive muggle lingerie and hide it beneath your uniform, hoping to keep the relationship exciting and alive with the hopes that one of your boyfriends would pull you into a spare cupboard and find the present beneath your button up shirt.

This came in the shape of Sirius Black who promptly entwined your fingers together after class, carrying both your bag and his on his shoulder and tugging you down a deserted corridor and into a dusty, dimly light classroom. Sirius may have come across to others as coming from a pure-blooded family and always pristinely dressed, but beneath all of that was his rebellious side. The part of him that wanted it dirty and rough and everything that didn’t match his exterior.

He dropped the bags onto the floor, causing a cloud of dust to waft into the air but that didn’t stop his movements as he pulled you further into the room, not even bothering to lock the door, another one of his little ‘Sirius’ things, loving the thought of being caught. As usual, your adrenaline was pumping through your veins, feeling giddy and ready to do whatever Sirius wanted, just needing to be close to him, to feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin.

“Come here Darling, up on top”, Sirius patted the sizeable oak desk that was in the centre of the room, even bothering to wipe his hand across to create an area that was without dust, the perfect area for you to come and sit on.

Jumping up with the help of Sirius’ big hands on your waist, you sat on the edge of the desk, your skirt hiking up slightly so that the brisk wood nipped against the backs of your thighs. This didn’t stop you from spreading them, making room for your boyfriend as he slide his hands to cup your cheek.

Sirius’ citrus scent from his hair caressed your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips, urgent and devouring, leaving you breathless and grasping to hold onto his shirt. He had full control with his grip on your face, tilting your head so that he could deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your open mouth, dancing to taste your spit.

A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he moved his body closer, his crotch pushing against yours as your legs hooked around the back of his knees. You were thoroughly and utterly consumed by him, breathing in the air from his mouth, the taste and smell of him, his warmth seeping into your skin. There was one thing you would never deny and that was how consumed you were by him, by each of your boyfriends, you had been since day one.

Sirius released his hold on your face with one hand but only because he needed to touch your skin, squeezing the soft area of your thigh and stroking up, further pushing your skirt to reveal the entire length of your leg. He didn’t stop though, exploring with a firm touch over your skirt and beneath the hem of your shirt, with the intent to pull your hips closer to rub his tented crotch harder against yours.

But then he suddenly froze, lips unmoving and a confused frown evidently etched into his handsome features as he pulled away to look down at where his fingers were feeling a strange material under your clothes.

You’d forgotten about your plan, through the lust-filled kisses and touches, it had slipped your mind what you were wearing.

Before Sirius could verbally ask what it was that he was feeling, you quickly beat him to it by breathlessly explaining, “I had a surprise”. With the adrenaline still pumping through your body, your fingers were shaking delicately as you removed your tie and unbuttoned your shirt, pushing the white material off of your shoulders, revealing the majority of the lingerie bodysuit.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to look seductive whilst further pushing your elbows underneath your already pushed-up breasts.

You weren’t sure exactly what reaction you were expecting, maybe a horny curse or a hunger search of your body with his eyes, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask in a disdained tone, “What are you wearing?”

Sirius lifted the hand that had been resting on your hip, up to the tight material on your chest, trying to slip his finger between your breast and the lingerie but unable to do so with how tight and uncomfortable the bodysuit was.

“I thought you’d like it”, you say earnestly, trying to keep the simmering panic at bay that was beginning to pound into your heart. Sirius’ confusion only increased as the line between his furrowed brows deepened, a single step back to put some distance between the two of you, your legs dropping to dangle over the edge of the desk again as he looked over what you were wearing.

“Why would you wear something like that? Are you even comfortable in it?” he asks with a hint of distaste, something you hadn’t anticipated for him to sound like at all. 

You begin to stutter over your words, losing the confident seduction you’d been attempting to play off. “It’s…it’s not supposed rt to be comfortable, I wanted to look nice for you”.

This response only seemed to further upset Sirius as his eyes refused to meet yours, remaining only on the extravagant lingerie. “But you always look nice, you didn’t have to do this!” The rise of his voice startled you enough to quickly shrug the shirt back up your arms, crossing the material across your chest so that you were covered once more. Sirius finally snapped out of his upset to look into your eyes, the frown relaxing a touch so that he could slowly explain, “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, you know that”.

Embarrassment pooled in your stomach causing you to feel burning hot and slightly nauseous. Of all the reactions you expected, it wasn’t this. Yes, you may be dressing completely out of your comfort zone and only doing it to make the boys happy but you had to make an effort and this was the only way you thought how.

You tried to keep your voice from wavering as you explained, “Yes, but I just wanted to make a little bit of an effort. Anyway, everyone else has been wearing this sort of thing or enjoying the look of it. And I just thought you wouldn’t-”, your mouth slammed shut with an audible snap as you tried to keep the truth spilling from your lips.

Tears were beginning to line the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you hastily began to fasten the buttons on your shirt, eyes on your fingers and not daring to look up at your boyfriend.

You’d hoped that Sirius would let it go, the words and the bodysuit, maybe you could jump off the desk, find somewhere to remove the lingerie and it never be spoken about again. However, this of course was wishful thinking on your part as Sirius’ voice had dropped an octave as he asked, “I wouldn’t…what? Finish what you were about to say.”

Blatantly ignoring his questioning, you had finished buttoning your top, turning to look for the tie that you’d haphazardly discarded behind you on the desk but in the low lighting, it was hard to see, especially as the tears began to slip down your cheeks.

Sirius closed the gap between your bodies again, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt it in his direction, his eyes glazed in worry as he noticed your tears, quickly swiping them away with his thumb. “Tell me”, he encouraged but you could still hear the strain at the back of his throat.

It was like a dam opened within you, that small hope on the restraint that you had snapped. “That you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if I didn’t try and keep up with the trends of what's hot. Or that if I didn’t try, you’d all think you’re missing out on something so yes, this bodysuit is a little uncomfortable but I just wanted to impress you all so you didn’t think I wasn’t attractive or that you’d fall out of love with me because someone else looked more sexy or was willing to dress in all of these stupid outfits! I just wanted to make you all happy ”.

There it was, the devil on your shoulder, speaking your inner-most demons, laid completely bare in front of you. Fear after fear spilt from your lips, once you’d started you couldn’t stop, even though you were becoming hysteric, the escalation of the situation was just making you freak out more. You were full-on sobbing by this point, tears dampening the collar of your shirt and shoulders hunched as you sucked in deep shattering breaths.

The walls felt too close, the air too thick. You needed to get out, need to get away from Sirius, not wanting to even look at him to see the disappointment you were sure covered his face. Using your body for momentum, you pushed him back as you jumped off of the desk and stepped towards the door.

However a gentle but firm hand wrapped around your shoulder, halting your movements as Sirius’s concerned voice begged, “Please don’t go, we need to talk about this Darling”.

This wasn’t what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to talk, scared that your spiralling thoughts might be a reality, your consciousness being your worst enemy at that moment as you shrugged out of his grasp. “I just need a minute”. You sounded broken and another sob shook your shoulders as you didn’t look back. Not bothering to pick up your bag or find your lost tie you rushed out of the door, and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased when you heard Sirius yell and kick his frustrations out against a table as he let you walk away.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, keeping your head low so as to not have questioning looks as to why you were crying and scared you’d run into one of your friends or worse Remus or James. There were so many students in the corridors and you desperately needed an escape and ran in the direction of where there were only a limited amount of people as fresh air crisped against your wet cheeks as you rushed outside.

For a moment you contemplated sneaking to the shrieking shack, knowing that you could curl into a ball underneath the sheets of the master bed there but that would also be the first place that the boys checked other than the Gryffindor common room. Furthermore, you needed somewhere outside, need to feel the sun on your face and a sense of calm so you half jogged to one of your favourite spots in Hogwarts.

It was the one place you truly felt at peace and somewhere you’d stumbled upon once when exploring the Hogwarts grounds in your first year. A luscious green cliff edge that overlooked the lake and Scottish mountains and, what made it so special was that when the sun began to set, it was the perfect spot for the golden hour of beautiful sunshine. The very last piece of land that the sun-kissed before it disappeared over the mountains.

This was where you crumpled onto the grass, tucking your knees in close, hiding your face within them and wrapping your arms around tightly so you were now in a little ball. There you sat and you cried. For the embarrassment, anxiety-ridden and uncertainty as to what happened now. You didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, maybe it was better if you just stayed in that little spot forever you contemplated dramatically.

You were unsure how much time had passed but the air was beginning to chill as the sun dropped further in the sky. There were no more tears, but your breaths were still ragged, your eyes sore as you looked across the lake, and your body trembling through exhaustion and still, above all of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable the stupid bodysuit was under your uniform.

Footsteps suddenly crunched against the crisp grass and you tried not to stiffen at the unknown arrival. But with each step, you knew from the slight limp who exactly it was as Remus sat beside you, his legs crossed underneath him as you automatically moved your face to look away from him, not wanting him to see the mess you’d become.

“Don’t”, he insisted. “Don’t do that, don’t hide away from me, my love. Come here”, he encouraged, his heavy hand resting against your shoulder and tugging your body towards his. You succumb easily, releasing the grip around your knees so that you could lie your head against his lap, his hand remaining on your shoulder giving you warmth and comfort as his other hand stroked through your hair and he simply lets you cry.

Remus began to talk, lowly and calmly into your ear as he helped you through your overwhelming emotions. “It’s more than just the fancy underwear, isn’t it? Listen to me Love, we all have our insecurities that bubble away underneath our skin but we can’t let those negative thoughts win. We deserve happiness. YOU deserve happiness.”

Your sobs calmed down enough that you were just lightly hiccuping, not even bothering to wipe away your tears as his trousers absorbed the wetness. Remus lowered his head, to gently kiss the side of yours before he continued. “I know sometimes our minds are louder than our hearts so even if I tell you, how much I truly adore you, that sometimes you won’t comprehend how much it is true. But please, Sweetheart, understand that… you’re my family. You, Sirius and James. Without you three, I have no one and I don’t want you to think you’re anything else but my entire world. You could dress in the old linen from a house elf and I would still love everything about you. I don’t need you to be dressed in the latest fashion or clothes that are evidently uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, we ALL want you to be happy”.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you couldn’t bare to not be touching Remus, needing more than anything to show him how much you appreciated him, loved him with just as much passion as the words that he spoke. So without another word, you rushed to sit up and climb into his lap, straddling your thighs over his, shaking fingers cupping his scarred face to hold him still as you kissed him deeply.

It wasn’t like the same sort of passionate, devouring kiss with Sirius earlier in the day in that forgotten classroom. This was passionate in a way that the world began and ended with each other, that you need to show your love and appreciation with your lips where words would surely fail you. Remus was always the one to have the best advice, to be able to talk the others around when in a low mood, he just always seemed to know the exact right thing to say.

As both of your lungs burned for air, you pull from the kiss but only to lean your forehead against his, warm breath fanning across his face as he wiped away the stains of the tears, “I love you, Remus Lupin”.

“I love you too”.

The sun had now cascaded behind the mountains, leaving an orange hue in the sky as everywhere else began to fall into shadow. The air instantly cooled but you didn’t care, especially not with Remus who ran at a fevered temperature due to his lycanthropy. The two of you stayed like that until you felt comfortable enough to risk glancing over his shoulder, towards the lining of trees from the forbidden forest.

“They aren’t here”, Remus informed you, kissing your cheek gently and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer.

You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or not at hearing that Sirius and James didn’t accompany Remus. “Where are they?”, you asked quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted after your breakdown.

Remus took more than a moment to answer like he was trying to decide how much he should tell you before finally deciding. “They’re both back in the dormitory, sorting out a little surprise for you”.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat, that they were doing something nice even after the way you’d spoken and reacted to Sirius. “I feel bad I stormed away from Sirius”, you admitted to Remus, pulling away from his shoulder to play with the end of his tie.

Remus offered you a shrug, “He’ll get over it. I think he was more upset that he didn’t know how to process that you weren’t comfortable and doing all of this for his benefit. And that he struggled to find the right words to say without sounding pissed off and couldn’t fix the situation before you left”.

You nod, risking a glance up towards Remus’ face and relieved to find him looking at you still in a relaxed way and you knew he really wasn’t annoyed like you thought he would be. “And James, is he ok?”

Remus nods, kissing the tip of your nose and pulling a smile from your lips, “He’s hurt like Sirius and I, that you’d been feeling this way without speaking to us, he wanted to fly down here as soon as Sirius found us but I knew you needed some time to yourself”.

“Thank you”. You hoped that he understood that you were saying that for more than one reason, for everything and by the twinkle returning to his eyes, the life that was sparking once more as he pecked your lips gently, you knew he understood.

“Come on, let’s not leave them any longer”.

Remus helped you to stand and the two of you took a leisurely stroll, hand in hand, back up to the castle, you’d missed dinner but Remus insisted that he’d go and get you something to eat after your surprise.

The surprise was entirely romantic and your chest warmed with love as you looked at the dormitory that you shared with the boys. There were different-shaped candles floating around the room, Remus’ record player in the corner at a low volume with the latest Bowie track that the boys loved and rose petals were scattered across the floor and freshly made bed but the petals had been enchanted to change colour and shimmer in the candlelight.

A sweet, thankful gasp was just about to spill from your lips but it was quickly replaced with a shocked laugh, your hand covering your mouth to hide your grin as Sirius and James stepped out of the bathroom. They were completely nude, except for the black lacy tight underwear that hardly covered their genitals, and nicely tied off with a pretty pink bow over where their cocks were.

The two of them stood proudly, abs tense to show off and flex as much as possible, a wide stance and arms behind their backs as they both grinned cheekily at you. “What…? What are you both wearing?!” you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer and out of Remus’ reach, only for him to start taking off his clothes too.

You turned to watch, eyes wide as he too was wearing the skimpy underwear that seemed to hardly be covering him at all with his cock at half-mast. “Wait, have you had them on this entire time?” you asked dumbfoundedly, trying not to stare at the ridiculousness of the tiny little outfits.

“Oh I have indeed, can’t tell you how far they’ve been wedged up my arse but beauty is pain right?” he joked, subtly trying to pull the material from between his cheeks to relieve the tightness there.

You watched as Remus brushed past to stand next to Sirius who now stood in the middle of him and James, his grin softening to a knowing smile as you also moved closer to them. Once you were close enough did he tip your chin back, “Do you only love us more because of these outfits? Or would you say you loved us regardless of what we are wearing”.

The penny dropped as you now realised why they were wearing the uncomfortable-looking, ridiculously scandalous underwear. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, giving him a knowing look as you shook your head no. “Exactly. This is how we feel for you, I don’t want you to shut us out again or doubt our feelings for you. If you ever have a thought like this again, I need you to come to us, and talk because that's healthy and normal in relationships. Don’t bottle it up and don’t shut us out and please, don’t walk away from me again, I couldn’t bare it”.

You reached up to take his hand, moving it from your chin to nuzzle your cheek into it, kissing his palm as you promised, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry I did all of those things and made you all worry. I love you, everything about you, without the outfits”, you emphasise with a smile. “They don’t look comfortable at all”, you say with a giggle, noticing James trying to give his cock more room in the confinement of the lingerie.

“Think I’ve got as much room as your tits which reminds me, we need to release them from their prison!”, Sirius joked, his fingers reaching to begin unbuttoning your shirt and then pushing it over your shoulders.

Remus stepped up behind you, his naked back flush against yours, “oh Pup, this doesn’t look comfortable at all”, he chastised in a low voice, beginning to unzip you from behind. The relief was immediate as Sirius helped him by pushing the loosened straps from your shoulders and you audibly sighed as the warm air kissed your now exposed breasts.

“There are my girls”, Sirius mumbled, his thumb brushing against the nipple of your right breast causing it to pebble before his mouth dropped to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. Before you could properly lean into the touch, James’ tuft of hair was soon at the same level as Sirius's as he did the same to your left nipple, suckling it into his mouth before flattening his tongue against it. Your back arched, hands delving into both men’s soft hair, gripping and holding them close as arousal struck through your core.

The remainder of your clothes soon pooled around your feet on the floor, Remus even helping to unbuckle your shoes until you were left in nothing but your white frilly socks as Remus had effortlessly removed the rest of the lingerie and skirt.

The moments like this, when they were so doting and loving that you almost felt overwhelmed because you wanted to return that love and affection to all of them at the same time but with only two hands, it was challenging to do. So you decided to concentrate on the two boys attached to your front, who were nipping and teasing your tender nipples, sucking them into peaks before laying them flat with the push of their tongues.

The grip you held on their hair reluctantly relaxed and tried to do a different exploration, over their shoulders, feeling this leanness of James and the muscles of Sirius from where he trained as Beater for the quidditch team. Lower still your nimble fingers travelled to their chests, feeling the sprinkling of hair that curled over their pecks and then still further down with the goal to reach the hem of their underwear. However, in the position, you could only react to James who seemed to realise your goal and pushed his body more towards yours.

Your fingertips ran along the hem of the tight underwear and then halted as James shuddered under the touch as you stroked over his tip that had bulged out as he became increasingly harder with nowhere else to go. As you teased his tip, James began to kiss up your body, particularly over the indents over your chest from where the bodysuit had pushed your breasts up, and he didn’t stop until he was next to your ear, still needing to bend down because of the height difference.

James did not move with urgency, even though his hips were bucking under the tease of your fingers. With one cupping your jaw, tilting your face away and the other hand gripping onto your waist, James began to kiss along the column of your neck, over the sensitive little spots that had your knees weak and more heat pooling in between your legs.

Remus on the other hand now stood next to you, his fingers stroking down your jaw to grasp your attention which you gave him, looking up at him with wide eyes and bottom lip stuck between your teeth. “I want you to listen to me carefully ok? There will be no rushing tonight, our goal is to please YOU, and only you. I want to hear every little moan and cry that you have so there’s no need to bite your lip, my love. I want this pretty mouth open and begging for more, do you understand?”

You couldn’t think of words that made any sense like a thick warm blanket of fuzzy arousal clouded your thoughts so all you could respond to Remus was a desperate nod of the head and a throaty moan.

“Good. Now tell me, just before we start.  Who do you belong to?”

James and Sirius stopped the teasing with their mouths so that they could hear you answer, needing to hear it, for their own sanity and possessive natures.

“You, I belong to all of you”, you breathlessly answered, still looking up into Remus’ green eyes that always reminded you of spring, hypnotised completely by him.

“That’s right”, he praised delicately still stroking down the side of your face. “And, who do we  belong to?”

“Me”, your answer was quieter, heart pounding at having to say it out loud as you knew that he was only getting you to say it to remind you that your freakout today was unwarranted and you should always know that they’re yours.

Remus tilted an eyebrow up, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Excuse me,  I didn’t quite hear that”.

You refrained from huffing in embarrassment as you repeated yourself at a louder volume, “You all belong to me, to each other”.

This was the answer he was looking for as his lips curled into a gentle smile and then opened as he was going to continue talking but James seemed to snap hearing those words as the hand on your jaw pushed your body backwards, the other on your waist supporting your body so that you didn’t trip over. The back of your knees met that bed and the two of you toppled onto the soft, rose-petaled surface.

“I couldn’t wait anymore, need to feel you, taste you, want to make you mine”, James groaned against the shell of your ear as he finally turned your face enough that his lips found yours in a hungry, lust-filled kiss.

Behind the two of you, you were able to hear Sirius and Remus chuckling deeply at James’ frantic motions and then they were moving closer and sitting on either side of the bed, taking a hand of yours each into theirs. A way to stay close to you but also restrain you in a way so that James was fully in control and the pleasure was solely on you.

The Gryffindor’s seeker’s tongue brushed against yours, tasting and dominating the dance happening in your mouth, his body sliding between your thighs so that you could feel the scratch of the uncomfortable underwear that he was still forcing himself to wear against the sensitive skin of your thighs. His hand's hand began to lower, the wide expanse of his hands meaning that he was able to feel a vast area of your body at once, over your collarbones, your breasts, squeezing softly, a contrasting touch from his commanding mouth.

Over your hips, your thighs, tucking them in closer around his waist. Finally, he pulled away from your mouth, his glasses slipping down his nose as hot breaths being shared as you both desperately tried to breathe but it was mostly so he could tell you his contemplative thoughts. “I don’t know whether to let you ride my fingers or taste you”.

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, not being able to decide an answer for him but thankfully Sirius pipped up and offered the idea, “Why not both?”

James grinned, pecking your lips before glancing towards Sirius, “Good idea, Padfoot”.

Then his warmth crowding around your chest was gone as he quickly backed away and lay on his stomach at the bottom of the bed, his face now between his legs and hands pushing back your thighs until once again, Sirius and Remus took one each so that you were fully restrained.

“Such a pretty pussy, MY pretty pussy”, James admired as he began to spread your juices that were seeping through your folds, over the rest of your cunt. With one hand, he spread back your labia so that you were bare before him, he could see the subtle throb of your clit and the clench of your pussy, gleaming in the low candlelight from your wetness.

James licked a long strip from your perineum, over your hole and up to your clit, audibly swallowing your juices and moaning, and then there was no holding him back. If he wasn’t sucking your clit then he was pushing his thick tongue into your hole, exploring the tensing area. And then he was adding two of his fingers, rocking in and out in time with the circling of his tongue around your clit.

You were very quickly descending into the pleasure and gave up on watching him as all you could do was lie back and moan, hands desperate to reach for him but still being held back by your two other boyfriends. So you lay there, mouth wide open and mewled and quivered, especially as he began to curl his fingers, teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves before carefully easing the touch with a warm lick of his tongue.

“Is Prongs making you feel good, Darling?” Sirius cooed down to you, squeezing your thigh to try and grasp your attention.

“Yes! So-...so good, please don’t stop”, you begged, eyes clothes and a withering mess as James increased his pace. That’s when you felt it, the tightening in your core that sent tingles over your pussy and thighs, that feeling that you craved every day to feel and one that the boys were always so good and making you experience. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, James please don’t stop”.

James didn’t plan on stopping as he watched your reactions from between your legs, expertly fingering and licking you, feeling your pussy clenching and tightening around his digits before you gasped, arched your back and fluttered and pulsed with your orgasm. You felt both heavy and light simultaneously as he didn’t slow down his motions until you collapsed back fully into the sheets again.

“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out beneath me. But, I think it’s time one of the other two has a go, what do you say Honey?” James asked still between your legs. Opening your glazed-over eyes, you looked down at him and nodded in response, but you were also sure that what he had to offer now you would have said yes too. 

Remus leaned down so that his lips danced along your cheek as he whispered against your skin, “Think it’s my time to have a taste of your sweet pussy?”

This time, the aroused fog in your brain cleared slightly as you shook your head no which in turn earnt a confused expression to Remus’ face. “Want you to fuck me”, you stated with conviction, needing to be full and stretched.

Remus chuckled as he squeezed your thigh and wrist that he still held, “Already? But we’ve only just started Sweetheart”.

You whine pathetically, trying to reach for him and momentarily forgetting that you were still very much restrained. “Please! Want to feel your cock inside of me, don’t want to wait”.

“Ok Love, can’t be having my girl going without what she wants now, can I? You haven’t been stretched much though so do you want to ride me so you have control for a second?” He didn’t sound boastful when he talked and you knew it was necessary for him to ask this, Remus had one of the biggest cock’s you’d ever seen. In fact, when you first saw it, you were sure it wouldn’t fit inside of you. However now after fucking constantly, it was a little easier but still not something to be rushed so you nodded your head in agreement with his idea.

Remus moved to lay against the pillows, easing the lingerie at long last down his legs and onto the floor and then his hands were out and supporting your weight as you were released from Sirius’ grip and able to crawl over to the other Marauder. Once more, his body was a lot warmer than the other two but that only aided in moments like this, the heat helping your pussy to stretch.  Straddling his hips, you could help but grind your bare pussy against his thick cock that was hard and lay heavy against his abdomen.

The two of you moaned deeply, his cock throbbing just as harshly as your clit as it brushed against his shaft. Remus rested his hands against your waist, but only to support you, he let you be in control for the moment as your hands rested against his chest, pushing off of it with your movements.

Leaning down quickly, you pecked his lips, sighing into the touch before leaning back up and gripping the base of his dick, standing it up and then rising onto your knees. Even just feeling his tip brushing your hole had enough stimulation that you were moaning. This only increased as you began to lower yourself, slowly and with Remus’ support by guiding your hips down tentatively, making sure that your gasps were done in pleasure and not discomfort.

It burned but in a way that had you begging for more, stretching to your very limit as inch after inch pushed into your cunt until you were about ¾ of the way down before his tip stroked your cervix. Leaning forward so you could take the weight off of your knees, you both just stayed in that position as your body adjusted to being sheathed.

Only as you began to slowly rock your hips did Remus dare to move his hands but only to cup your arse cheeks, massaging the areas and helping you a little to ride back and forth on his cock. “Feel so big Daddy”, you quietly moaned into his chest, not meaning to use the nickname so early into the night but sometimes a different side of you took over.

“Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well my love, you’re so tight and pretty above me”, Remus praised and his hips began to buck up to meet yours, increasing the pace and roughness slightly and from the earth-shattering moan you released, there was no chance he was going to stop doing that again if it made you sound that good.

As you began to roll your hips in time with Remus, you had a thought as to where the other two were. Looking over your shoulder and see James and Sirius sat together, their hands clenched and resting on their thighs as they tried not to touch themselves and a pang of guilt settled in your stomach as they really were just trying to think about your pleasure. “Please! Please touch yourselves, take off those stupid underwear and touch yourself. No wait, come here, let me touch you.”

“This is supposed to be about you”, Sirius reminded you in a low gruff tone, like he was trying to restrain himself from snapping but was clearly struggling.

“Yes, and I want to touch you. If you won’t fuck my mouth then you’ll have to come over here so I can wank you off”.

Remus chuckled beneath you, “So demanding all of a sudden, is someone desperate for cock?”

You mewl, eyes closing and head tipping back as his cock fucked you with a hard slam of his hips, “Mmmm, yes! Always desperate for your cocks, because they’re mine aren’t they?” Your words were teasing and you made sure to timidly smile down at Remus as he grinned up at you.

“Yes, they are, all yours Sweetheart”. He fucked into you hard again, your body jolting from the momentum of the movement.

However his thrusts up slowed as Sirius and James stood on either side of the bed, the lacy underwear now discarded and cocks leaking and standing proud, bobbing in the air. Your mouth watered and you were half tempted to beg to taste them but decided to save your energy as you wrapped a hand around each of their cocks, squeezing and pumping slowly, in time with your rolling hips.

The two of them grunted, drips of precum building at the tip, leaking down and wetting the sensitive area. As you figured out a pattern with how fast to stroke them, squeezing in certain areas of their shafts and making sure to brush your thumb over the tip, Remus watched happily, his cock throbbing harder inside of you as you touched the other two. In each of the Marauder's minds, they were once again appreciating just how beautiful you were, taking Remus’ cock so well and pleasuring Sirius and James with your skilled hands, it was a sight to behold.

Sirius couldn’t hold back anymore as he roughly grabbed your jaw, tilting your face back and feverishly kissing you, tongue instantly swiping to gain entrance to your mouth, much like he had earlier in the day when you were sitting on the edge of the dusting desk.

The four of you moaned for different reasons, at the pleasure that was being shared and the love that was underlying in all the touches.

Remus began to fuck up into your body harder but still at a slower pace, his hand stroking over your abdomen, stroking the soft skin before his thumb dipped lower and stroked over your clit in demanding swipes.

Your thighs instantly clenched as well as your palms around the men's cocks. Sirius pulled back, needing to hear and see your pleasure as he stroked a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes, “You like the way Moony is fucking you? I want you to cum for him because, by the look on his handsome face, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.

Remus grunted, having been trying to hold back his own orgasm until you had found yours. It just felt so good when you fucked him first, pussy so tight, warm and all his that he didn’t care if he came quicker than other times the two of you fucked, he just wanted to fill you up, needing to see you dripping with his seed.

You were shaking above him at the sight of Remus trying not to unravel and the stroke of his thumb and cock were driving you ever closer to your own peak, thighs shaking with each grind of your hips.

Then you felt it, that tightening and blissful euphoria building in strength, like you were going to explode into a sea of stars as Remus’ name sang from your lips in pleading praise. “That’s it Love, cum for me, fuck you feel so good”, Remus shouted, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to his forehead with the restraint of holding back his own orgasm.

Thankfully for him, after a particularly hard thrust and press of his thumb on your bundle of nerves, you were clenching your eyes closed, mouth gaping open and body locking up as you came around his cock. Only a couple of seconds later, Remus was arching his back slightly, hands squeezing the flesh around your hips tightly as he came, cock buried as deeply as it could go into your cunt as he needed you to have every single drop of his cum.

Your eyes momentarily opened to enjoy the sight but then a hand on the back of your head distracted you as your hair was harshly tugged back, causing your back to arch up, tits pushed out as Jjames batted away your hand from his cock. But, it was only so he could quickly toss his cock off, desperately whimpering as he knelt on the edge of the bed to get closer to you as he too came, all over your tits and down your sternum.

You watched with a satisfied grin at seeing James frantically finding his own orgasm and how flushed he now looked as the last drip of cum gathered at the tip of his cock. The grip in your hair loosened enough that you were able to lean forward and lick a single strip on his dick, capturing that last drip and swallowing it down with a genuine smile.

James looked like he was going to combust at the sight as he sucked in heavy breaths and looked like he was going to pounce on you to show you just how much he loved you but then the one man who hadn’t found his on orgasm quickly disrupted these thoughts. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hiked you off of Remus's cock which pulled out of you, his cum dripping down as the tallest marauder slide off of the bed.

Sirius returned you to your knees and pushed your shoulders down so your cum covered chest was flat against the sheets and petals and your arse perked up into the air. “Need you so bad Darling, are you going to let me play with you?” Sirius asked, stroking a strong, wide hand down your spine.

“Please fuck me”, you begged, looking over your shoulder towards him. Sirius gave him a handsome grin, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached around you to grasp both of your arms and hold them behind your back.

“It would be my pleasure”, the long-haired man muttered, shifting his hips until his cock brushed against your cum covered hole and began to push in. You were so sensitive after taking Remus that you pulsed around Sirius, his cock stretching and filling you completely, he may not have been as big as Remus but he was still thick and hard. “Merlin! I love feeling Moony or Prong’s cum inside of you, feel it coating my cock and lubing your pretty pussy”.

You gasped at his words as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, hands tightly holding onto yours so that your weight rested awkwardly on your neck but you didn’t care, needing and wanting everything he was willing to give you.

Unlike Remus, Sirius didn’t hold back with his thrusts, moving with speed and intensity that had you almost seeing stars with how deep he was fucking you in this angle. Your hands desperately clung to his, feeling the coolness of his rings and using that to ground you to the moment as you were beginning to feel a little fuzzy and floaty from the day's events.

“Taking me so well, you’ve done so well for all of us”, Sirius praised, followed by a deep throaty moan as you squeezed his cock tighter at his words. This only encouraged him to fuck you faster until it was a blur as to where your bodies met.

Your toes were curled as the constant smack of his cock against all of your blissful nerves had you wanting to melt right into the bed. It wasn’t long before you were feeling that relief on the horizon and from the way your pussy was clenching, Sirius could feel it too.

Releasing his hold on your wrists, he quickly pulled your upper body up, until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your front to support your weight from toppling forward.

“Say it again, say you’re ours, I need to hear you say it”, Sirius asked, his sharp teeth teasing the shell of your ear, even in the new position it didn’t stop his deep, fast thrusts.

You were sure you were screaming your answer as your orgasm throbbed through your entire body as you did as requested, “I’m yours, I’m all of yours, Sirius- ah! Fuck please-”, you were rambling now, saying any words that you could think of as you were overcome with pleasure.

The sensation was so intense that you hadn’t noticed that Sirius had also cum with you until you were able to catch your breath and realise you were both collapsed face first onto the bed. Sirius’ cock was still inside of you, slowly softening and allowing his and Remus’ cum to continue seeping out and onto the sheets.

His lips ghosted over your shoulder as he moved your hair away from your ear, “And what did we learn today?”, he asked still sounding breathless but also teasing.

“Clothes don’t define love”, you mumble, feeling exhausted and hungry, looking forward to the feast that Remus was bound to bring you all after the cleanup and aftercare.

“Exactly. And what else?”

“That I belong to you all, just as you all belong to me”.

“That’s right Darling, and please, never forget it”.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 7

Part 6

The door Sam knocks on is in a much nicer building than she expected.

She and Tucker are visiting Danny for dinner - and boy did they both nearly burst with excitement when he shyly extended the invitation - and frankly Sam had expected an apartment building in the Narrows or Park Row.

Danny was a teenage runaway less than a decade ago, for God's sake. Forgive her and Tucker for assuming he'd still be getting his feet under him and scraping by.

This? This is not that.

Sam has half a mind to think Danny is sugaring. He certainly wouldn't have any trouble - the Danny that disappeared from Amity was cute, but small and awkward in that teenage way. The grown up Danny they've been reconnecting with? He's tall, lean and positively gorgeous.

She wouldn't have a problem with that, per say. But the Danny they knew was also too nice for his own good and starved for positive attention. If someone was taking advantage of that Sam would kill them. 

Separation did not quell her instinct to wrap Danny up and protect him from the world, it would seem.

There's a slight commotion after the knock before Danny himself is yanking the door open with a grin that's happy and nervous at the same time.

“Guys! Hey! Come in!”

He ushers them inside with all the energy of an overgrown puppy, something that hasn't changed one bit since they were kids.

Sam shivers a little as they enter, assuming there's an AC unit blowing over the entryway at first. She smiles at Danny's back as he babbles at them.

“I kind of lost track of time, so food isn't actually ready yet, but then I thought - hey! Who cares! We can cook together and it'll be fun! I got all vegan stuff too so we can make a meaty pizza for Tuck and a different one for you, Sam-”

The apartment they walk into is a spacious open floor plan, furniture in blacks and grays. She shivers again. Seriously-

“Your AC on the fritz or something?” Tucker asks, rubbing his arms a little. “It's like fifty degrees in here, man.”

Danny freezes for a second on his way to the kitchen space before turning around and beelining for a wall - the thermostat.

“Shit, sorry! Sit, sit! I knew I was forgetting something,” he grumbles as he flaps a hand towards the black bar stools at the kitchen island and fiddles with the thermostat. “I like the cold, I always have it too low for most people in here. Sorry about that, it'll get better soon.”

Sam and Tucker exchange bewildered looks as they sit at the kitchen island. There's liking it cool, and there's fucking freezing.

“Guess I don't have to ask your favorite season,” Tucker jokes, and Danny offers him an apologetic grin as he lopes back over.

“Yeah, probably a safe guess,” he chuckles on his way to the fridge. “You guys want drinks? I have a homemade sangria if you want. Beer, wine, you name it.”

Tucker opts for a beer. Sam asks for the homemade sangria, curious. Danny pours two glasses and takes an ice cube tray out to pop a couple of ice cubes in.

When the glass is set in front of her - “they're the stemless kind you can't knock over. Cool, right? Look at ‘em wobble, they're just little guys.” - she raises an eyebrow.

The ice cubes are in the shape of little ghosts. Tucker snorts when he sees them, taking the bottle opener Danny offers for his beer.

“Ghosts? Really?”

Danny blinks like he'd forgotten he had a novelty ice cube tray, then grins and shrugs.

“I mean. What else is being from Amity good for if not inside jokes?”

He turns away before she can respond with any form of bewilderment - Danny had been known for disappearing during ghost fights, after all. He was terrified of them. She hadn't expected him to want any reminders of ghosts or his ghost hunter parents.

Sorry - Jack and Maddie.

With two resounding thunks, Danny slaps store bought dough onto his nice dark counters. He at least remembered to leave them out to rise. 

“Alright! While I roll this out, it's time to pick your toppings lady and gent - go wild, go ham. Let me show you my selection.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out meats and veggies and cheeses abound. Sam notes vegan cheese alternatives in the mix with a warm fondness in her chest. She's stricter about being vegetarian than vegan, but the fact that Danny went that extra little mile? 

Yeah. Yeah, this is still her boy. She missed having two of them. She and Tuck were never meant to be without a Danny, and she can see on Tucker's face that he feels the same way.

Smiling and standing to start looking through the options, Sam sips her sangria. 

It’s delicious, and the little ghost ice cubes smile back up at her like they're as glad as she is to be here.

Masterpost

[daenysx]

i got bored so here are some modern!james potter headcanons;

um- sunshine energy at its finest!!

james is one of the prettiest boys you could ever see in your life

his smile lights up every room he walks in

he has to take extra five minutes every morning to fix his hair because he always puts his head wrong on the pillow and messes the shape of his thick, wavy hair

heavy sleeper!! (cutest though, sometimes he sleeps with his mouth open)

he's a morning person but he usually goes to bed early, claiming he has to get 8 hours of sleep

sleeps naked. to your delight.

he likes getting slow back scratches and massages, he is addicted to get kisses on his neck and his cheeks, he LOVES being babied

always runs hot even when the room is cold. he's generous too, he holds your cold body in his arms until you get warmer

i once wrote that he makes the best iced lattes in the morning, i still stand by it

he'd practice to be perfect at making your favorite drink (mine is iced latte so i had to say it-)

breakfast fan!!

he never leaves the apartment with an empty stomach, the worst he can do is take some snacks or fruits with him if he runs late

loves morning runs, morning walks, morning work outs, morning stretches. anything to wake his body up

and we probably all know this but james potter is the type of man who knows his body well

he looks good and he knows it

he also knows what he should do to take care of himself and his health

i mean he likes waking up early and starting his day, but he'll stay in bed with you if it means he'll get cuddles (especially when it's cold)

he tries to wake you up by bribing you with promises of a shower together and breakfast prepared by him

speaking of showers-

um- if you don't mind me being a little smutty here,

james potter loves eating you out

and he loves it more when he gets to wake you up to his mouth

and he does it again when he convinces you into shower

he does it for his own pleasure really

because it feels so good to keep his mouth on you and rubbing himself to soft blankets at the same time

this man is never- and i mean never ashamed of coming into his pants

like seriously, just think about it

he adores that feeling of falling apart for you, he doesn't even need to be touched

needy. and that's hot.

he makes noises in bed. never stays silent. always tells you how you make him feel.

he likes being called 'my love'

king of getting you flowers because 'they made him think of you'

he makes fun of his blurry sight every time he loses his glasses

he can't read for long (sleepy boy alert) but he likes it when you read a book out loud for him

tries to compete with remus on how many movies he can watch in a row without falling asleep

he loses of course

he complains about sirius' smoking (stop acting like a saint prongs) but he takes a few drags when he's too stressed

now that's the thing- james potter doesn't like to burden others with his stress

he keeps things to himself when he's not joking

his glossy eyes give him away though

precious boy

he blinks a few quick tears on your neck when it gets too much

let's keep going with happy james because i can't handle the thought of him being sad

the best hugger ever!!!

strong arms, broad chest, smells perfect, knows how to squeeze your body with the best amount of pressure

you forget everything when he holds you

he never pulls away from a hug first

just my dream guy

another thing- he is so proud of himself when you laugh at his jokes

has a group chat with remus and sirius

never stops sending memes, sometimes drives remus insane

his spotify playlists are so complicated because his music taste changes with every song

he wants you to choose the music every time you're in his car

guys- james potter brainrot is something else, i swear i love him so much

that's all for now, let me know if you'd like a part 2