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#mischievous thunder
mischievous-thunder · 6 months
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katartna · 1 year
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My Pokemon Scarlet team in gijinka forms!
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cloud-ya · 2 years
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don't you hate it when your pet wyvern steals your employer's underwear
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eldrid · 1 year
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Mikey : " I wish we had a special device to locate the Lego pieces scattered here and there. "
Shinichiro *in a strained voice while massaging the heel their foot* :" What exactly do you think our feet are for? "
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Shiho to Shinichi: I like to think that I'm weirdly scary and unapproachable. What sort of feelings do I invoke in you whenever you see me?
Shinichi, immediately: Intense love!
Shiho, nervously: Anyone else?
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lecsainz · 3 months
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
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velvetydream · 2 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ May I have this dance? ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : It was a late stormy night at the hotel, you weren't able to sleep, but when you sneaked into the kitchen a certain red-haired demon was humming to a tune while cooking.
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 1309 Words
Genre : Fluff
Warnings ➵ None
a/n : Dancing with Alastor? Sign me up (even tho I cannot dance and he would probably kill me for stepping on his feet..-)
Also I personally cannot dance, so I'm sorry if the description of the dancing seems a bit off!
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For once it was storming in hell, it was a very rare occasion, but once it did storm, it was crazy. The whole city had a blackout, VoxTech was probably going crazy right now. Meanwhile, the hotel was cozy, Alastor used his magic and brought out some candles, so the hotel was clad in nice candlelight now.
Yet here you were laying in your bed, not able to fall asleep. Outside your window the rain was slamming against it, lightning and thunder could be heard every few seconds. Sighing you swing your legs back out of your bed, it is no use, you won't be able to fall asleep like this. Feet hitting the cold floor, a shudder running over your body. Slipping on some socks and a jacket, you take the candle holder from your nightstand and light the candle up again, before you make your way out of the room.
Slowly and quietly you make your way downstairs to the foyer and then to the kitchen, everyone else was probably asleep right now, so that's why you were almost going on your toes. Arriving at the kitchen, the door closed, you noticed soft light shining underneath the door gap, wondering who was in the kitchen this late at night. Opening the door a bit to slip a glance inside, you see Alastor at the stove, candles were lit all around the kitchen, indulging it in soft light. The stove was going with fire, probably thanks to Alastor's magic. He was stirring something in the pot, you couldn't see what it was, but the smell it gave off was enticing.
"How long do you intend to stand there and gawk at me, darling? Come on inside!" Alastor did not turn around at all, making you wonder how you were noticed, unknown to you, his shadow was watching you the entire time since you began to sneak a peak inside. Entering the kitchen now, you close the door behind you softly, pulling your jacket closer around you. Your feet carry you over to Alastor, glancing into the pot. He was making some stew, you couldn't really tell what every ingredient was, but it smelled good. "Open up dear~" Holding the wooden spoon up, he let you have a taste and it was incredible, he had a hand for cooking. It was a slight bit spicy, but not too much. "It's very nice!" Nodding now, as you slowly start to get the things out you actually came for, a cup of tea.
"Oh dear, let me make this for you, do take a seat." Grabbing the cup from your hands, you look at him a bit flabbergasted, yet do as he said and sit down. "Why are you even awake this late? And cooking on top of that?" Watching him, just now you notice how he was still wearing his normal attire, he hadn't changed into sleepwear yet. The only thing he took off was his coat and bow, the first button of his shit open, yet he still looked proper as always. "Oh I just felt like cooking something up, couldn't really rest." Was his answer to your question, afterwards it got quiet again.
Just now you notice how some jazz was playing from his staff, Alastor was tapping his foot along to the rhythm. It was a nice change for once here in hell, simply enjoying some music and calmness. "Do tell me, darling, do you dance?" Looking over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk, smiling and smirks were normal for him, yet this one looked daring and playful. "I'm not really skilled at it if I'm honest, I prefer watching others." Alastor's eyebrow quirked up a bit, the lid of the pot was placed on it now, letting the stew simmer for now. Your tea was almost ready too, as he strode over to you. His hand was extended out to you now, his playful smile a tad bit bigger now. "I beg to differ, my dear, I think you may be a skilled dancer, with the right person to lead you, so.. may I have this dance?" The jazz music getting a tad bit louder now, as he awaits for you to place your hand in his. For a second you were unsure, yet placed your trust in him, in other occasions this may be a bad idea, but right now it's simply a dance.
With a quick pull, you were on your feet, as Alastor slowly started to lead you, the music slowed down a bit, while he took the lead to guide you, probably taking it slow at the start right now. The dance was a swing to the jazz music playing, the more he guided you and twirled you around, the more you got the hang of it. Letting Alastor and the music guide you, the next song was slowly picking up the pace, he was obviously enjoying this, having fun with twirling you around to his heart's content.
"You see my dear, you were only missing the correct partner to make you a darling little dancer~" His words made you blush a slight bit, it wasn't unusual for Alastor to talk to you or Charlie with pet names like dear or darling, but somehow his words now had a different tune to it, they were soft, like he meant what he said with his whole heart. "I guess you're right.." Agreeing with him, as he now noticed how you were slowly getting out of breath, the music slowing down to a waltz, as he pulled you in closer to his body now, his hand now placed on your waist, as his other one holds yours in a soft grip, as on instinct your hand finds its place on his shoulder.
This felt different than before.. more intimate than the fun swing before, his face wore a soft smile, as he looked down at yours, your eyes avoiding his a bit now, too shy to face him. A chuckle makes you raise your head again though, noticing how close he was to you now, mere centimeters between you two.
"So mon amour, how did you like this?" The music was still going and so was Alastor, softly guiding you to the music, but not as concentrated anymore as before. "You definitely are a great guide, it was fun, though I was a tad bit nervous I must admit." Chuckling at your response, he nods. "Don't worry your pretty little head, you were fabulous, like a little dove." Letting your hand go now, he comes to a stop, takes a step away from you and back to the stove. Your breath was still the slightest bit harder from the dancing, you were just happy you didn't end up stepping on his feet or anything.
"Your tea darling, head on out to your room and sleep soon, it's late, can't have you missing sleep now can we?" The cup was placed in your hand, as he guided you to the kitchen door with a hand on your lower back. "Thanks, sleep well too Al!" Giving him a soft smile, as you turn to go back to your room. "Let's repeat this another time darling." His words bring a slight red hue to your face again, as you nod in agreement, before making your way back to your room. Alastor closed the door with a content smile, he didn't get to dance often, and dancing with you, his little darling? An amazing turn of events.
The next day the power was back and the storm gone, the cup on your nightstand empty and after exhausting yourself with dancing, you slept like a kitten this night.
And let's just say, Alastor pulled you into a dance here or there more often now than you thought he would.
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persuasivus · 3 months
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vampire Prince! Sukuna 🔞
his clan was murdered that night. wounded and bleeding, sukuna was trying to evade his pursuers. if the circumstances were different, he'd be the one to hunt them, but he's lost too much blood in that ambush and if he wanted to let them taste his murderous revenge, he'd first need to feed.
It was a warm summer evening, blessed with the cold light of a full moon. the silver rays strengthened his pursuers and their vicious howls could be heard in the distance. they were coming and he needed to get cover now.
The poison coursing in his blood was preventing the gnarly wounds from healing. He needed to replace it, to feel the warmth of fresh, young blood energize his unbeating heart. Killing someone to save himself would be a terrible deed, but being soulless made the Prince see it as nothing more than necessary collateral damage.
he'd just need to find that one unfortunate soul before which he would open his wings of darkness and feast on its essence of life. his clan referred the bite of a vampire as the kiss of death. Passionate, hungry and beautiful, but one sided. Like a parasyte taking everything the host could offer, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind.
Sukuna hoped the wind would carry the scent of a living one, passing somewhere near, but instead it brought only the stench of death and dread. Was he going to die here, in this narrow alley, next to an overflowing garbage can. his only companions being the rats whose emerald eyes glowed mischievously in the dark. Taunting him to die so they can fight over who'd get to ravege his flesh.
that's no way to end the royal line, no way to die before he kills the traitors by ripping their throats and bathing in their guts. sukuna's vision blurred and he felt his mind betray him as he slowly succumbed to darkness. Slouching on the ground, the last drops of crimson would soon leave his body and he'd be left completely drained...
"Sir!" a yelp pierced his throbbibg head, which almost exploded when an invador suddenly shook his shoulders. "You're bleeding, Sir!" a constatation most correct. The prince's red orbs focused on the visage in front of him, slowly painting the picture of a girl crouching beside his pathetic, limp excuse for a body.
"I'm calling an ambulance, hold on, Sir!" the girl pleaded desperately, fidgeting anxiously with her phone, almost dropping it in a hurried attempt to dial the emergency number. Sukuna's dying heart skipped a beat, the possibility he could live shone on him brighter than the memory of the last sun rays he saw over a millenia ago.
He grunted in his miserable attempt to straighten his leather covered back against the grimy alleyway wall. the girl's orbs glued to him, her warm hand reached out to take his and help the stranger. Sukuna was in no condition to admire the beauty of his tragic savior but the feeling of her rushing blood was something that could not evade him. That platonic skin on skin contact overwhelmed her with empathy and him with hunger.
ah, his tragic scapegoat, the Prince thought, hand inching towards the girl's face. The gentleness he cupped her soft cheek with surprised Sukuna and he felt his mouth salivate at the way the damsel's face flushed at the intimacy. He heared the operator on the other side of the line asking what's the emergency, but neither of them moved.
Her glistening eyes danced around, trying to evade his piercing gaze and silence the thundering of her heart, but he knew. She was scared, anxious, worried, but also attracted. She wanted to help him, but for a second just as he touched her lively skin, she also wanted to kiss him.
Betrayed by her own blood, every emotion made transparent by the pumping of her jumpy heart. She gathered her senses and put the phone next to her ear, but Sukuna's hands latched themselves onto her waist and with newfound power pulled her towards him, until both her arms crashed onto his chest.
The line got quiet not long after, the operator seemingly got tired of waiting for that fateful reply. Little did the little lamb know that she should have asked for help cause the real danger is lurking over her head instead.
Sukuna didn't care if his shuffling made the wounds bleed more profusely, cause very soon he'd be made anew. Lazy, uncoordinated movements guided her to straddle his lap, he'd be lying if he said that the danger of death crawling towards him didn't turn him on. No, he was the master of death, no matter how badly she desired to take him, he'd always find a way to escape from her claws.
Any previous thoughts of helplessness long forgotten, with his lamb by his side, the Prince felt invincible and that power pushed his buttons. His hips rolled deliciously into the girl's clothed crotch, earning a pathetic whine from his prey. "Sir- I need to get you help" she trembled, hands gripping at his forearms when he repeated the grinding motion a few more times.
Sukuna sneaked his cold fingers around the girl's neck, moving her hair out of the way. He was so close, so close to cursing death in it's face, so close to wielding again that familiar, intoxicating strength, so close to making everyone who betrayed him hurt, so close... So fucking close to erupting from the sheer pleasure of that power he had over life itself.
He couldn't help it, sukuna groaned as the pace of his hammering hips escalated. The grip on the girl's neck was crushingly strong and he felt he was dragging her body into him. She struggled to get away but it was no use. She's never getting away from this, never getting away from him.
He's not letting her go, she's his - he panted heavily at the thought - his to take all essence from, to bring him back to life. sukuna growled, laughing masochistically as blood oozed from the corners of his mouth. He bit his tongue so hard, absentmindedly edging his leaking cock by dry humping her heat.
She was crying into his chest, and that blackened, sadistic heart of the vampire loved it. Every pitiful yelp sounded like a cock hungry moan in his ears and he was going to give to it her, as a final gift for bringing him back to life.
"you're the only help I need" he whispered hazily, licking her cheek. the salty taste of her tears almost had him cum in his leather pants. "my poor little lamb" he grunted, shivering from the way his cock twitched. Sukuna tilted her head so they could lock eyes. Pain and fear prevented him from truly seeing her before, but now that he has, a sense of pride overtook him.
"beautiful" Sukuna praised, skillful fingers sliding sneakily down to her clothed core. He could feel the distress in her, she was torn - scared to death, yet shamefully aroused. With a single motion, sukuna effortlessly ripped a hole at the crotch of the girl's jeans, tearing also the pink panties beneath them.
"shh" he cooed wickedly, unzipping his own pants. the girl wept dearly on his shoulder, admitting defeat after not being able to move even s single inch. "you're gonna help me so good" Sukuna rasped, hissing as his hand finally gripped that neglected and needy shaft of his.
The girl screamed and pushed with all her strength but being a mere human was insufficient against the power of an undead. Sukuna admired the sticky wet patch her soaking pussy left on his leather pants. Her attempts to move away were futile while her cries and pleads for him to stop were pathetically self deprecating, when he knew that even visibily, she wanted him.
"isn't that what you wanted" he gaslighted, gliding the tip of his cold dick between the creaming folds of his defeated victim. He moaned, a satisfied smile curving on his lips as he filled his little scapegoat to the brim. "ride me, pretty girl" the Prince instructed, digging his sharp nails in the plush thighs of the damsel impaled on his throbbibg cock.
Sukuna's chest swelled with pride as he felt her slowly and insecurely rock her hips against him. Her warmth felt so good, engulfing him like a cozy blanket, making that dick of his feel right at home. Her weeping turned into barely audible cries mixed with shy moans full of shame.
"you're making love to the devil" Sukuna breathed, the slight crack in his voice betrayed the immense pleasure that was rocking him to the core. The girl didn't respond, just kept grinding her hips slowly, pushing him deeper and further into her depths. Her lack of response made the vampire squish her cheeks between black pointy claws.
He fucked a powerful thrust into her which drew out a loud yell from the girl. Sukuna enjoyed the desperate sound so he continued with the thrusts from below, one at a time, being purposely as rough as she can handle. Mixing her pleasure with the sharp pain of kissing her cervix with the tip of his ruthless dick. He brought back those uncontrollable sobs of hers, which he found to be truly endearing. Luring him to fuck her harder, to hurt her.
"I'm fucking my sinful cock into you. you're spoiled now, no one will want you, but me" Sukuna reasoned softly, almost lovingly, hugging her torso closer and breathing in her scent. the smell of life filled up his balls and he landed another especially powerful thrust into the girl's defenseless pussy. she earned herself a slap when she screamed, heavy droplets rolling down her chin like pearl beads.
"are you mine?" he asked with gritted teeth, breathing in through his nose sharply. The lamb's eyes shut tightly at the sharp pain penetrating her body. Sukuna pushed himself as deep as possible, keeping his dick glued to her cervix excruciatingly. Her hips shook relentlessly and her body succumbed to the pain. The shaking applied enough pressure over the girl's clit which was now rubbing against the pelvic bone of the vampire.
her eyes fluttered open, vision blurred by the river of tears streaming down from the bloodshot orbs. "yes" she whispered dryly, head falling down in defeat as her body betrayed her and she came all over sukuna's cock, overstimulated by the never ending pain in her depths.
Sukuna was holding still, his cock splitting the girl in two from within. She was creaming all around the base of his dick, her juices gushing and overflowing all while experiencing a terrible mix of pain and sinful, incomprehensible pleasure. He was breaking her with that ritual of exhibiting unlimited power.
Sukuna smiled at her demise, lavishing at the godly feeling of her overflowing on top of him, because of him, giving him even more than he could ever ask for.
Maybe killing her would not satisfy him. Maybe he doesn't need that collateral damage, but instead needs to be able to damage her even more. Maybe he wants to keep her, just as they are now.
Her broken submission sent him into a primal rut and he fucked his cum into his new possession. And just as he pulled her close, cock spilling it's seed inside of her, sukuna thought that maybe just taking some of her blood will suffice.
He sunk his fangs into the girl's flesh and when the blood rushed into his mouth, sukuna was sure - he'd need to have a taste of her again.
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kookxmira · 4 months
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Workaholic 1 | Jeon Jungkook
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"tell me baby, how was the kiss?"
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ceo!jungkook x wife!reader
summary : how’s the best way to tell your husband his enemy kissed you? while he’s fucking you.
WARNING : kissing, begging, penetration, rough sex, manhandling, doggy style, missionary, degradation, squirting
word count : 3.6k
part 2
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you hardly remember the last time you dressed this beautifully, wearing a tight red dress that accentuates your curves in all the right places.
you don't have a reason to look this good anymore, but now that you're all dressed up, you miss it.
you were eager to show your husband the dress, but work is keeping him busy again tonight.
you wish he could've been here. you wish you were slow dancing with him and kissing his lips, but instead, you're drowning down your fourth cup of wine.
"hey," a voice calls from behind, pulling you out of your drunken haze.
you turn your head, checking to see who the voice belongs to, and in that very moment, your heart skips a thunderous beat.
"hi..." you greet back.
feeling apprehensive, you instinctively reach for your purse to prepare your leave, but minho speaks before you can.
"you should stay. a little company wouldn't hurt right?" he suggests.
caught in a slight dilemma, you hesitate on what to do. should you engage in a conversation with your husband's enemy or walk away?
you know it should've been the latter, but your feet stay in place.
"where's your husband?" minho inquires, scanning the crowd with a mischievous glint.
"he's busy with work," you reply. you see the small smile appear on his lips before he looks back at you.
"since we're both alone, how about a dance?" he says, placing a hand on top of yours.
oh.
surprised by his request, you quickly remove your hand from underneath his. of course the obvious answer is no. how could you possibly dance with someone your husband despises?
"no thank you," you reply gently.
minho's eyes twinkle as he looks you up and down, licking his lip.
"you're wearing this beautiful dress and you're not even going to dance?... don't be lame."
you'll admit, it look you a while to find a dress this perfect and that's because you were only doing it for jungkook.
it really is a shame he couldn't make it.
"us? together? i just don't think that would be a good idea," you insist, shaking your head.
"because of your husband?"
"yes, exactly." that should've been obvious from the start.
"but he's not here.." minho smirks, leaning his head to get a better look at your face.
"that makes it worse," you retort with a raised brow, coming to final terms that his intentions aren't as pure you tried to make them to be.
"i just can't help it... i think you look absolutely gorgeous," he compliments.
caught off guard, you avoid eye contact. "oh. well, thank you," you mutter.
you're just confused. you have no idea why he's talking to you.
"if you were my wife, i promise you would never have be alone," minho states in a lower tone, inching closer to you "i would treat you better than your husband."
you quickly move away from him, creating a safe distance as you shake your head.
"jungkook does treat me right," you state firmly, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.
"a true gentlemen would know if his women was feeling lonely," minho tells you. "your body yearns for the attention of your husband, but he can't satisfy you. no, he can't do that."
"that's not true," you step in defensively.
"he's only busy with work and although he doesn't have time for me, i still love him," you add.
"but does he love you?"
you hesitate..
"he does love me," you mutter, averting your gaze to the abandoned wine on the table.
it reminds you of jungkook. it reminds you of the reason why you started drinking again after many years of cutting it out of your life.
minho's smirk deepens at your change of expression.
lost in your thoughts, you fail to the notice the hunger of his gaze fixated on your lips.
"to be fair.." minho continues, his voice softening as he gets closer, "it's common for husbands to grow bored of their wives, even if they're as beautiful as you."
before you have the chance to react, minho's lips smash onto yours in a sudden unwelcome kiss. you instinctively push him away as you stand up abruptly.
"minho!" you exclaim, voice drowned out by the blasting music that fills the large room.
"hmm, better than i thought. cherry lip gloss?" he retorts, a malicious smirk playing on his lips.
a mix of disgust, guilt, and anger courses through your body and slowly, you begin step backwards, unaware of the sudden presence behind you. just as you teeter on the edge of a small step, a pair of arms catch you before you fall.
"are you alright?" taehyung's concerned voice fills your ears.
although surprised by his unexpected appearance, you're relieved as you nod at his question.
without any hesitation, he drags you away to a quieter corner near the entrance.
"why were you talking to him?" taehyung questions, his voice laced with a mix of worry and confusion.
taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you try to gather your thoughts. everything had just escalated so quickly.
"i... don't know," you mutter softly.
you're aware that engaging in a conversation with minho is strictly forbidden, a rule repeatedly told by both jungkook and taehyung.
"i never intended for anything to happen. i.. don't know what I was thinking," you confess.
"i saw him kiss you," taehyung sighs, rubbing his forehead. "i know that's not your fault, but don't ever, and I mean it y/n. don't ever talk to him again," he says sternly.
"okay," you softly reply.
"don't be angry at me, but i actually told jungkook to come and pick you up," taehyung reveals, and your eyes widen from panic.
"he texted me and asked if you were here because he noticed you weren't home," he adds.
dang it.
feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything that's happened with minho, and now with what's going to happen with jungkook, you sigh in distress.
"he's here," taehyung announces and your heart jumps at the news as you quickly straighten your posture.
as your husband approaches, you notice him engrossed in a phone call, and you nervously gulp down the lump in your throat.
"thanks for texting hyung," jungkook says before firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. you're unable to give taehyung a proper goodbye as you're dragged out of the door.
once you reach the car, jungkook opens the door for you, a stern look in his eyes.
"get in the car," jungkook commands, his tone telling you that he doesn't care about your explanation as of right now.
he ends the phone call, telling his secretary he won't be available for the rest of the night before he drives off.
"wanna tell me why you snuck out?" he asks, a small tinge of anger in his tone.
you understand why he's upset. after all you lied about going to sleep early and then snuck out. and lying has never been an issue in your guy’s relationship.
"i just didn't want to be stuck at home," you reply honestly, nervously biting your lip.
"you still shouldn't have lied to me," jungkook asserts, one hand on the wheel with the other in his lap.
both of you fall silent for a moment, the only sounds permeating the air being the distant hums of passing cars and the rustling wind.
that's until jungkook picks up on the familiar fruity scent in the air, and he furrows a brow.
"were you drinking?" he questions in a mix of concern and disbelief.
a surge of panic hits you, causing your body to tense involuntarily.
"uh. just a bit of wine," you mumble, voice barely audible.
you can see the way jungkook's jaw clenches, frustration building up.
"you always throw up after drinking wine, so why do you keep drinking it?" jungkook scolds sternly.
"i don't throw up anymore," you say, like it's any better.
you know that's not an excuse for drinking, but you're unsure of how to explain yourself right now.
"y/n. it's not just about that, it's about your health," jungkook says frustratedly "we've already had this conversation before."
you close your eyes for a brief second as a soft sigh escapes your lips. you really don't want to argue right now because you already know you're in the wrong for drinking.
at the same time, he pulls up to the driveway and you quickly hop out of the car. you head to your shared bedroom, with jungkook cautiously following behind.
the discomfort of your high heels becomes so unbearable that you almost stumble on the stairs, so you quickly kick them off when you reach the room.
when you step in front of the full-length mirror, you notice your disheveled hair and slightly smudged eyeliner.
you honestly don't know why you even try so hard to look good sometimes when it's all for nothing.
you catch a glimpse of jungkook's reflection in the mirror, his eyes fixated on you, but you choose to ignore it.
he removes his blazer, his movements deliberate before gently encircling your waist and tugging you closer to him.
deciding to admire you instead, he takes a deep breath to let go of his frustration, inhaling your sweet rose scented perfume.
"you look stunning," jungkook compliments, looking you and down through the mirror.
"let me fuck your brains out, yeah?" he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
you take a moment before you respond, gulping down the lump in your throat.
"jungkook, we were just arguing-"
"i need to teach you a lesson," jungkook speaks softly, making you anticipate his next movements.
he abruptly pushes you down, bending you over your makeup table, knocking down and over some products.
"jungkook!" you let out in surprise.
"my beautiful wife needs to be taught a harsh lesson," he says, roughly lifting the tight dress over your ass. "she needs to learn that lying and sneaking out has consequences."
he slaps your ass, hand imprinting on your flesh as you whine from the sting.
"you look so fucking beautiful in this dress," jungkook whispers. "and i'm about to fuck you in it."
he swiftly grabs your arm, turning you around to kiss your pretty lips before he proceeds to push you on the bed with a smile.
"open your pretty legs, baby," he commands, slowly removing the black tie from around his neck.
he takes a seat on the chair in front of you, eyes dark as he waits for you to comply.
"i said open your fucking legs Y/N," he repeats.
you scurry to the top of the bed, gradually spreading your thighs for your husband.
he stands up and slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, his gaze intimate and naughty.
you feel your panties gush with wetness again and bite your lip to refrain yourself from moaning.
"miss my cock huh?" jungkook teases, a smug grin on his face.
although you don't respond, the look on your face explains everything.
he gets rid of his dress pants, his semi-hard cock coming in view as he slowly strokes it up and down while looking at your body.
his cock begins to harden, blue veins becoming prominent.
at the sight, you subconsciously close your legs to get some friction.
"open your legs," jungkook commands again, in irritation.
he watches you struggle to obey as your thighs barely part, slightly rubbing against each other.
he roughly grabs your ankles and swiftly tugs you to end of the bed, forcefully prying your legs open before he slaps your drenched pussy.
"what? i haven't fucked my wife in so long and all the sudden she doesn't know how to follow orders." jungkook shakes his head in disapproval.
"i'm sorry," you mutter.
"i bet you are hmm," he hums, tightening his grip on your neck.
you feel the head of jungkook's cock poke at your entrance and you hold your breath, waiting for him to push all the way in, but he doesn't. he only pushes the head in before pulling back out.
"stop teasing me please," you beg, furrowing your brows in desperation.
all you need is to feel him.
he laughs in delight, enjoying how desperate you are for him.
he then pushes the head of his cock inside you again and pulls out just to hear your cries.
a minute later, he finally pushes all the way in, knocking the air out of your lungs. your mouth falls agape, unable to make a sound as you feel his cock scape against the inside of your tight pussy.
"shit- i feel like i'm fucking a virgin," jungkook voices breathily, forehead coming in contact with yours.
he begins to thrust in and out and you whine, the pleasure making your stomach churn.
"ah fuck-" you finally moan.
jungkook pushes deeper inside you and you gasp, hands coming to touch his pecs as you breath against his lips.
"jungkook, you're so fucking good- fuck" you moan desperately.
"yeah?" he responds teasingly, a handsome smirk on his face.
"hm- you fuck me so good!" you repeat.
jungkook continues to pound your cunt, the tightness of your walls making him go absolutely crazy.
he stares at your fucked-out expression, your red cheeks wet from the tears running down your face.
"fuck- please," you sob, submitting to jungkook just like he wants.
"you dirty- little fucking slut," he says through gritted teeth, feeling his cock become even bigger.
his eyes bounce between the cream on his cock and to your face, unable to decide which one he likes more. he loves both, he wants to see your white cream paint his cock while your alluring face contorts in pleasure.
the sound of the bed hitting the wall becomes louder and he sighs in pleasure, hands tightening around your neck again.
before he can go any further, the ringing of your phone goes off causing jungkook to groan. it takes him a second before he pulls out, leading you to whine at the empty feeling.
"it might be an emergency," he mutters to you before quickly rising off the bed. "stay right there," he instructs.
you do as he says, curiously waiting for him to get your phone while your throbbing pussy begs for attention.
you're unsure of who would be calling you at this hour.
jungkook sighs, retrieving your purse from the nearby table and rummages through it. his eyes land on taehyung's name flashing bright.
raising a brow in question, he walks back over to you and throws your phone on the bed. he nods at it.
"answer the phone."
you grab the device beside you, about to answer, but jungkook sinks back onto the bed, cock returning to your entrance.
"jungkook-" you gasp, attempting to stop him, but he grabs your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he shakes his head.
"no baby. answer the phone," he says, pushing his thick cock into you once again.
you moan loudly, unable to control the lewd sound.
"please-" you whimper.
he goes easy on you, stopping his thrusts as he motions for you to answer the phone.
you clumsily push the button and immediately, the booming sound of taehyung's voice comes through.
"hey, I called to see if you made it home safely," tae says, and you curse under your breath in a little bit of annoyance and pleasure.
this call is in fact, not an emergency.
"y-yes, i'm home safe," you reply, trying your very best to sound as if your husband's seven inch cock isn't inside of you right now, but it's difficult.
jungkook smirks, stifling a mocking laugh.
"that's good. and sorry i basically told on you," taehyung laughs.
"it's not your fault, it's jungkook," you say, unable to resist the urge to blame him, but that doesn't go well for you as he thrusts a lot deeper into you.
you accidentally drop the phone and it lands next to your head as you silently moan, whimpering against his lips.
"did you guys fight?" taehyung asks.
you slightly recall the small fight in the car about your drinking habit, thinking that's what he meant.
"a little.. bit," you let out breathily.
"yeah.." taehyung chuckles. "did he get mad?"
"y-yes, he was being a jerk," you reply.
jungkook simply pokes his tongue at the side of his cheek at your response, thrusting harder into you and you cry, biting onto your lower lip as you shut your eyes.
you slightly push his chest, signaling for him to go easy on you, but all he does is show a lopsided grin, telling you he's going to do the opposite just to see you try not to moan.
you whine into his ear, nails scratching his back as you let him fuck you so good.
"well.. i don't blame kook. i would hate it too if minho kissed areum," taehyung blurts out.
his words cause you to freeze in surprise cause you surely weren't expecting him to say that.
jungkook furrows his eyebrows, replaying taehyung's words in his head to double check if he heard it right before he stops thrusting.
"i- um-" you stutter, mind racing to find the right words, but you're too late as jungkook figures things out, your panicked expression only adding to his final answer.
"you kissed minho?" jungkook's voice rings out in anger and disbelief.
in a sudden burst of frustration, he snatches your phone, abruptly ending the call.
his eyes darken, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.
"minho was at the fucking party?" he asks, anger coursing through his body.
he grits his teeth, deeply breathing against your face as he stares at you.
"jungkook-," you try to explain, hands on his chest to push him away, but he doesn't move.
instead, he manhandles you so swiftly, moving you on your hand and knees, slapping your ass hard, making you wail.
he pushes your face to the bed, smearing your pretty makeup against the white sheets.
jungkook inserts his cock back in your pussy in one fast movement and you gasp for air. you can feel him so much deeper this way, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.
he angrily begins to pound harder into you.
he puts your hair in a ponytail with his hand, yanking you backward until your back is pressed against his chest.
"i- specifically told you to stay away from him," jungkook grunts into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "he got to kiss.. your pretty lips."
you whimper, trying to explain yourself, but his cock doesn't allow you to.
"tell me baby, how was the kiss?" he asks, his unoccupied hand digging into your hip.
"m-minho-" you moan loudly right as he hits your g-spot.
you begin to shake, the repetitive rub against your g-spot making you see stars. you would've fallen over by now if jungkook wasn't holding you to his chest.
"what's that?" jungkook mockingly says, knowing he's hitting your g-spot so perfectly that you're unable to speak.
"ah!- minho k-" mascara tears stream down your face, your red cherry lip gloss smeared across your cheek.
"stop moaning his fucking name," jungkook grumbles, landing another hard slap on your reddened ass.
he finally let's you go and you fall right back on the bed, cheek pushed against the sheets before he picks up an even faster pace.
"tell me what happened y/n," he says, sweat dripping down his face.
"oh god! s-slow down-" you manage to let out, sobbing in pleasure.
"tell me what happened," he repeats in irritation.
he spanks your ass two times on each side before grabbing your hips to go deeper, but slows down his pace so you have the chance to talk.
"i- ... i was talking to him," you admit breathily, turning to face him with innocent eyes. "and he started telling me.." you hesitate, turning back to the bed to avoid showing guilt.
"telling you what?" jungkook asks, beginning to increase his pace again.
"how b-bad of a husband you are," you whimper. "he said- that i'd never have to be alone a-agin, if he was my husband."
you moan wholeheartedly, your g-spot being pounded so hard that it becomes too much to bare.
"ah! he- d-doesn't think you- love me," you let out, more tears streaming down your fucked out face.
and with that, jungkook fucks you harder, faster, and deeper, making you wail pathetically as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"and do you really believe that?" he questions, grunting at how close he is to cumming inside your dirty walls, but he controls it.
"no- jungkook," you sigh, feeling your orgasm approaching.
he can feel you tightening around him, making him angrier.
"fuck y/n. you're getting so fucking tight."
his hips stutter and he growls, knowing he's about to cum hard.
"talking about minho turns you on, huh?"
"no-" you moan, stomach tightening.
"no?" jungkook pounds your cunt so hard that you shake, screaming his name until your voice gives out.
"i'm cummin-" you squeal, body shaking from high pleasure.
your pussy becomes so tight and jungkook pulls out from the pressure, watching you squirt all over the bed as you moan shamelessly.
he pumps his cock, groaning at the lewd sight of you destroying the sheets and he finally shoots his cum, painting your expensive dress all dirty.
he moans proudly, coming down from his high as he jerks his cock between your ass, wanting to feel your beautiful pussy rub against his vein.
"fuck y/n," jungkook growls, watching you shake from overstimulation.
he feels his cock throb before it begins to soften and he looks at the mess you both made with a chuckle.
he gets off the bed, taking deeps breath to regain control of his breathing before grabbing a towel from the bathroom.
he wipes the cum off your back and in between your legs.
jungkook then turns you around on your back and smiles at how you beautiful you look, even after getting fucked and crying your makeup off.
you look into his handsome eyes and he can see the guilt written all over your face.
"i know i s-shouldn't have been talking to him, but we were just talking and all the sudden he was kissing me and i-"
"yeah baby?" jungkook interrupts, wiping your stained cheek with his thumb. "but what did i say about talking to him?"
you gulp nervously, hoping he won't get mad again.
"to walk away if he ever tries to talk to me," you answer, melting under his touch.
it makes you feel even guiltier.
"and what did my baby do?"
"talk to him.." you mutter.
all of the sudden, jungkook sucks in a breath, a groan leaving his lips as he tilts his head toward the ceiling.
he rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"why does my wife have to be so gorgeous?" jungkook sighs, dropping his gaze to look at your beautiful eyes.
your cheeks turn a rosy pink as you avoid his strong gaze, but he captures your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.
"i love you," jungkook says and you feel your eyes begin to water, the loving feeling swimming in your heart.
"i love you too."
1K notes · View notes
bakugoushotwife · 9 months
Text
Just Being Neighborly
a/n: y'all gone need the holy water for this one... it was a lovely writing challenge from the one the only @getosbigballsack so if you something with similar themes don't freak out lol. this was super fun and i definitely got carried away LMFAOOO
cw: shew let's see um, threesomes, mfm but the men are involved briefly, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, anal, dirty talk, pet names, slight dacryphilia, size kink maybe? doggy and reverse cowgirl. unedited as usual, i probably missed something im sorry
wc: please im so embarrassed it's 9k
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They still remembered the day that you moved in. It was a sunny Tuesday in the middle of the summer, the gentle breeze flowing into their townhouse while they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch playing Fifa. The sounds of car doors shutting and the roll of suitcase wheels on the concrete sidewalk got Satoru’s attention. He pauses the game, and Suguru groans. The lanky young man trips over himself to lean over his best friend and roommate on the couch, peering out of the window. 
“Stop being so nosy and I was beating you.” The other man sighed, moving his long dark hair to his other shoulder so his companion didn’t lay on it. 
Gojo huffs in defense of himself, keeping his bespectacled eyes trained outside. Finally he sees you. You walk back to the sleek Cadillac in the shortest yellow polka dotted sundress in existence, cute white pumps elongating your bare legs even more so. He was drooling and he hadn’t even seen your face. “There’s a babe moving in!” He rejoices, maybe a bit too loud through the open frame.
 Suguru leans over to pull his mouthy friend out of the window, but you too, piqued his interest. The dress was tight, hugging every curve and accentuating your large bust and wide hips. You don’t notice them watching, too busy pulling boxes out of the trunk and setting them on the sidewalk for you to carry in. Satoru wonders what you do for a living. These were expensive townhouses, the two college students only lived there on the account of him being a trust fund baby. 
The more built of the two shoved the other male off his lap, but the lanky man saved himself from falling to the floor. “We should go help her, she shouldn’t carry all that herself.” Suguru suggests like the sweetheart he is. Satoru hums mischievously at the idea. 
“What a great idea, I’m sure the babe will be relieved to have two strong young men living so close!” He grins, elbowing his partner-in-crime. 
“Y/N, are you done yet?” A foreign voice thunders, the sound of dress shoes clack back out to the car, grabbing their attention. Soon a man in a suit comes into view, folding his arms at you. 
You sigh softly and paint your smile on. “Almost, dear. This one’s a bit heavy.” 
“Well you packed it all in there, so whose fault is that?” Your husband chuckles, though he’s not kidding. Satoru Gojo’s nose scrunches up.
“Blegh, he’s an asshole.” He sneered. 
This time, Suguru Geto had to concede to his best friend, the way the man spoke to you was awful, and he was making you carry everything? Disgusting, “Agreed.” 
Satoru gently slapped the other’s chest. “Then let’s go help the babe.” He said excitedly, to which his friend chuckled and shook his head at his eagerness, though he can’t wait to introduce himself to you. The two get up from the couch and slip into their shoes, beginning their descent down the lavish stone steps. He feels a pang of guilt, you’re clearly in a relationship of some sort, but the feeling soon subsides when he remembers his treatment of you. Men like that don’t deserve women like you. 
As if his closest friend could read his mind, he elbows him in the ribs. He’s got a cunning smile on his face, and Geto knows that he doesn’t care about your relationship either. If there was one thing you could count on Satoru for, it was unabashed boldness. 
“I’m thinking we swoop in right, save this pretty damsel in distress.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling his glasses down his nose to give his friend a knowing look. He quickly pushes them back up, though Suguru knows that won’t be the last time his companion will pull that stunt. “Or at least offer our strong shoulders to cry on while we carry all her things.” 
Suguru sighed. “Be normal, please, for once.” He pleaded, dark eyes narrowing at the smirk decorating his face. 
Satoru rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Sometimes Suguru was so annoying, and absolutely zero fun. If he had to seduce you himself so be it, but he wouldn’t let Geto sweep in later if he didn’t help. “I am normal, you’re the weak one.” He giggled, sticking his tongue out and scooting down the rest of the steps, smiling brightly once the sun warmed his skin. They stood on the same sidewalk as you, shyly observing you unpack the car. You seem frustrated with one box in the trunk, perhaps the same one you mentioned to your…heathen earlier. 
Gojo smirks, sharing a glance with the ever-stoic Suguru once more. Hands in pockets of his black basketball shorts, he wears that brazen grin all the way to the Cadillac. Suguru walks slowly after him, eyes trained on the ground ahead of him. He would have to be the gentleman to make up for Satoru’s lack of shame. 
The lanky man clears his throat, the summer sun behind him enshrining him in an ethereal glow. You turn to the stranger, taken aback by his almost unnerving beauty. He hooks his glasses on his tight black tee, grinning teeth shining as white as his shaggy white locks.His gaze is the clearest blue you’ve ever seen, you can see the clouds from above you reflecting in his matching sky colored eyes. You arch your brow, unsure what to make of his approach. Just as he’s about to speak, a second man appears. He’s not quite as tall, but his shoulders are broader and features warmer. He smiles softly, black eyes carefully analyzing you. He folded his arms over his chest, abs clearly defined beneath the opaque wife beater. He jutted his chin out to your boxes, but it’s the first visitor that speaks. 
“We noticed you could use some help, miss.” He smiles, icy stare shamelessly raking over your figure. Your cheeks warm under his gaze–no, surely it’s just this summer heat. You’re happily married, moving into these lovely townhomes because of your newlywed husband’s success as a District Attorney. Maybe he wasn’t the most attentive husband–or even the nicest, but he was paying your way and you didn’t have to lift a finger. He did right by you, so you tell yourself. But you must admit, the two young men were right. There was no way you could get that damn box out of the trunk, much less carry it all upstairs to your new dwelling. 
“Oh, well, yes actually. Thank you…?” You say, arching a perfect brow at them. Gojo nearly let out a dreamy sigh, your face was just as perfect as the rest of you. Your brows were immaculately manicured, lashes full and framing enchanting doe eyes that looked at them so expectantly. You were so tempting it was hard for even Suguru to be respectful, sweat beading at your chest so deliciously he had to readjust the gray sweats hanging low on his hips. Satoru hummed, amused by the scene. 
“I’m Satoru, this is Suguru. We live here!” He shared as if it were a treat just for you. 
Suguru stifled a groan. “It’s always nice to welcome new neighbors. May we ask your name?” He asks, leaning forward slightly. You leaned against the bumper of your car, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. They were handsome and not much younger than you if you had to guess. They were certainly capable of helping you carry these last few boxes. There was no harm in introducing yourself. So why did you feel so guilty?
“Oh, I’m Y/N Robertson, it’s lovely to meet you. I’ve been struggling with this box for a while!” You chuckle nervously, patting the offending weight and stepping out of the way for one of them to grab. The white-haired man nodded, showing no signs of regret, repeating your name aloud.
“Y/N Robertson. Was that jerk your husband?” He asks, the permanent glimmer of amusement twinkling in his eye. 
You gasp softly and Suguru’s eyes widen. “I apologize about him, he has issues. I think he was born without a filter.” Suguru apologized, glaring at his counterpart. 
Jerk? Is that too far off the mark? It had been such a stressful move, you did mostly everything yourself, your husband working fourteen hour days and refusing to lift a finger when he was around. You were mostly embarrassed that these two had noticed his treatment, not wanting their pity. “He’s…he’s just been busy with work. But yes, he is my husband.” 
Satoru clicked his tongue, walking forward to effortlessly lift the burden you had been struggling with for the past twenty minutes. “That’s a shame, Y/N. A princess like you doesn’t need to be carrying something like this. But don’t worry, we got ya.” He winks. 
You avert your gaze to the other man, almost seeking solace in his peaceful presence. He’s wearing a faintly smug expression as he lifts the stack of boxes on the sidewalk. Suguru only nods his agreement. “Which one’s yours?” 
You think about it, pulling out your phone to look at the paperwork.. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I’m pulling it up…” You mutter, taking your lip between your teeth. The men share a look. You were adorable. 
“Take your time, we’re fine.” Suguru insisted, giving you another warm smile. It soothes your nerves only slightly and stokes the fire elsewhere. 
Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’re super strong. Don’t worry.” He says, admiring your manicured nails tapping away at the screen of your device.
 You allow yourself to giggle at this, you could tell they utilized the location’s gym facility a lot. Satoru’s black shirt hugged him tightly, swells of his biceps bulging against the hems. He grins at the gift of your laughter, smirking at his friend. Suguru chuckled through his nose, shaking his head at how easily his roommate flustered you. You hiss in celebration.
“Yes! I found it, sorry. It looks like I’m in…408!” You say without realizing. Your innocent eyes blink up at the tall pillars that were your new neighbors and current assistants. Satoru looked like a kid in a candy shop, and Suguru smirked in silent celebration. 
“Right across the way from us. How divine.” Satoru chuckled, turning to make his way up the stairs with the weighty box. “It looks like you’ll be seeing a lot of us!” 
Suguru hummed. “I’m sure we’ll make great friends.” He said, slowly striding after the energetic man. You just padded behind them, watching Suguru’s back muscles glean with sweat, long hair swaying slightly as he trods along the steps. You felt ashamed, eyeing them this way, but it was hard to miss the way Satoru’s shirt rode up to reveal his own toned abdomen and white patch of hair leading to the shorts sliding down his slender hips. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, telling yourself it was just because of the growing wedge in your marriage. You just needed to escape their lingering gazes and deviant smugness. 
Later that evening, the men sat on the same couch that they discovered you on, deciding to play the long game. Your husband was a tool, you were practically in heat just from their eyes on you. It was clear he wasn’t giving you any of the things you really needed.
That was a year ago now, the two college boys are more than in your favor by now. You brought them a tupperware of muffins the very next day, and it kind of became your trademark. You took good care of them, bringing them dinner some nights and supposed “leftover” baked goods. They wondered if your husband even noticed that you started cooking for four. They found any and every excuse to visit you during your husband’s long workdays, often spending the entire afternoon with you. 
When they weren’t with you, they were thinking of you, talking to each other about what they would do when they could share you. They could hear everything through the thin walls, every fight you had, every tear you shed, every orgasm–though they could tell they were faked. It was painful, biding their time until they could make their move, just hoping that the moment presented itself soon. 
Luckily, they didn’t have to wait much longer. It was another regular day, the two were working on some household chores when a door–your door–slamming caught their attention, followed by crying and two voices screaming at each other. 
Satoru dropped the plate he was washing with wide eyes, scrambling for the peep hole. They’ve heard the arguments, but none of them had spilled into the hallway, or had been filled with such emotion on your end. This time it was your husband who cowered in front of you as you screamed and threw his things out of the home. 
“Cheating bastard! You cried, face reddened from all the stress, no doubt. Suguru turns the washing machine on and makes for the door too, fighting with Satoru to see. 
“Honey please–it was a one time—” 
“Oh don’t bother. She sent me everything! This is on the fucking news, you absolute ass!” You huff, shoving a suitcase into the hall. At that, Satoru scrambled to the couch, flipping on the television and pilfering through the channels until the news displayed the reason for such an argument. Even he was shocked, a cheating scandal for the ages. Suguru’s heart dropped as the reporter spoke:
“District Attorney Joel Robertson caught in a blazing hot scandal this evening. The other woman tells all! His secretary leaks the sex tapes–claiming this affair has been going on for years.”
“How could he cheat on her??” Satoru is puzzled, yet grateful. Your dumbass husband has finally given you a reason to leave. It was only a matter of guessing when you would bang on their door. 
Suguru sighs, he never wanted you to be hurt. He knows that Satoru isn’t necessarily thinking about it that way, though he can’t deny the twinge of excitement in the back of his mind. Your dollhouse of a marriage would be over, and he had the perfect idea for revenge. 
“Sex tapes, huh?” Suguru muttered, muscular body pressed into the door to watch your husband pick up all his things strewn about the hallway. He didn’t even look guilty, seemingly fine with your pained tears. You slammed the door in his face. 
“I never want to see you again! You’ll get papers soon!” You yelled from behind your door. Your husband rolled his eyes. 
“Yeah? Well good luck paying for a place like this with no job, you insufferable piece of work.Or finding anyone better than me.” ” He chuckled, the suitcase rolling down the marble hallway and your tears being heard loud and clear after Satoru clicks the TV off. 
“Sex tapes.” Satoru confirmed with the shake of his head. He realized how this had to be affecting you, pressing his face against Suguru’s to try and peek out of the peep hole for any movement within. “How horrible. The secretary’s an ugly anyway, they belong together.” He snorted.
Suguru side-eyed him. Satoru said every thought that crossed his mind, his friend was convinced, however it was hard to disagree with some of his wild statements. This was one of them. You were way out of your husband’s league. He treated you like garbage and then had the nerve to cheat after not even being able to please you? Disgusting. Vile. 
“Should we…?” Suguru poses aloud, not able to stand the sound of your cries much longer. 
Just as Satoru nods eagerly, your door flies open again. This time, you march right across the hallway, raising your pretty fist to knock on their door. Suguru’s lips part in surprise, but you hesitate to actually connect with the firm barrier between you and them. It was almost like the point of no return, the building tension that started the day you moved in would all come to a head if you crossed the threshold. 
You bit your lip, looking back at your entrance. Maybe you should just go back, you were just emotional and seeking out the only comfort you could think of, right?
Satoru flings the door open, not giving you the chance. You’re face to face with the two, realizing they probably saw everything. Your cheeks heat up, your raised hand slowly lowering to your side. You must look a mess, hair disheveled from the countless times you raked your hands through it, eyes red and puffy from crying, tear stains on your cheeks. You make a strangled sob noise, looking at them so sadly it pulls their heartstrings. 
Suguru steps forward, reaching for you. “We heard, we’re so sorry..” He says, and you can see his sympathy for you written in the warmth on his face. You put your hand in his, the feeling of human contact with someone who actually cared was almost enough to make you cry again. 
Satoru huffs, leaning against the doorframe. You’re almost caged between them, feeling their body heat radiating off. His face is embossed with displeasure, eyes darkened in the same way the sky does before a storm. “He’s a piece of shit. Doesn’t deserve someone like you anyway, sweetness.” He says with a look of disgust, shaking his head. 
Suguru covers your hand with his other one, dark eyes bouncing between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you were thinking. Truthfully, you were embarrassed more than anything. It was one thing to be in a loveless marriage, it was another for that fact to be known across town thanks to your husband’s low morals and high notoriety. You would be a laughing stock. 
“I’m just…embarrassed! I’ll be known around town as his poor wife. I hate that, I don’t want their pity or laughter…just so embarrassing.” You mutter, looking toward the ground. The sentiment makes Satoru pout. Oh how he just wanted to comfort you, for Suguru to lead you into the apartment where you would stay with them forever. 
Suguru frowns. He could tell your tears weren’t for your broken heart, but your devastation. Your reputation on the line, betrayed by a man who had never treasured you. He glances at Satoru, who’s just staring at you with such longing the dark-haired man can’t take it. “We can help you embarrass him, if you’d like.” 
His eyes widen. The words fell from his lips before he could think the better of it, but now you’re looking at him with those pouty doe eyes in confusion, and Satoru has to save the day, picking up your other hand. 
“Yeah, he’s right. We’ve been listening to you fake orgasms for a year now. Dude has some nerve makin’ tapes like he knows what he’s doing. We could really show him.” Satoru chuckles, leaning down from the door frame. You can smell his cologne, something minty with almost a hint of chocolate. He does know what he’s doing, invading your senses like this. His warm body and gorgeous eyes that have been undressing you since the day that you moved in paired with his scent and touch was overwhelming in the best way. Especially with the firm but comforting grip that Suguru kept. His hands were calloused from hard work, cradling the softness of your hand like a newborn. He leans closer too, waiting for some sort of response from you. His dark hair fell in layers around his face, accentuating his strong jaw and cheekbones, pale pink lips smiling softly. He smells of bourbon and cinnamon and some sort of expensive shampoo, the two of them so different and beautiful in their own ways–and both wanting you. 
“What did you..have in mind?” You squeak, your neighbors and acquaintances grin at each other. You didn’t even question their eavesdropping, knowing that they’ve been craving you since that summer sunny day. 
Satoru hums in pretend thought. This was only for show, they had determined what they wanted to do moments ago when they shared that glance. “Make a sex tape of your own, with men that can actually make you cum.” He let a laugh out through his nose. 
Your eyes widen, you open your mouth to speak but find that you don’t know what to say. Have you had a few wet dreams about a moment like this? Maybe, but that didn’t take the surprise out of their reciprocal desire. You looked to Suguru to search for any hint of his friend teasing you, but the man only squeezed your hand and smiled smugly. He could sense your doubt, and it was precious. 
“He’s not joking. We’d love to help you get revenge, dear.” He doubled down, the air around you growing heavy and charged with an energy that made your stomach drop, butterflies replacing your insides. Satoru steps out of your way, and Suguru angles his body the same way. You can pass right between them and enter their townhouse. You nibble your bottom lip, a nervous habit they had picked up on. “No worries, though, if you don’t. We’re here for you irregardless.” Suguru adds on the end, not wanting you to think you must. They wanted you to want to. 
And Satoru sure hopes you do, his gray sweatpants growing tighter at the thought of having you today, and under such circumstances! They hadn’t considered making films with you when discussing their fantasies, but he was definitely down with the idea. He smiles and nods, taking his lip between his teeth to mirror your nerves, but his was anticipation.
Suguru is highly perceptive, he’s hoping you say yes if only for his best friend’s sake. You wrack your brain, you should say no. There’s no way that this can end well, but your desire has piqued. They were right, your husband was horrible at sex, and you’ve been wondering what Satoru’s slender hands would feel like on your body, thinking about Suguru’s sweet smile pressed into your skin instead. Your stomach tingles at the thought, and you know what you want. You want to give in to your desire, you want to be with the men that had actually taken care of you for close to a year, and you wanted your soon to be ex-husband to see how good they could make you feel. 
You take a deep breath and squeeze through their bodies to enter their home. It was clean, like always. They tried to be better about that when you started eating dinner with them. You set your phone down on the table, taking a seat on their couch to blink at them expectantly. 
They shared another look, but this one was one of surprise. There you were, in their house waiting for them to fuck you. They had dreamed of this, and now it was happening. Gojo wastes no time, smirking and coming back inside, pulling Suguru in with him and shutting the door. You don’t miss the sound of the lock clicking, though it made you giggle at his eagerness. He takes his shirt off to avoid having to do it later, and you bite down on your lip again. Though this time it’s because he’s incredibly sculpted, as lean as he is. 
His skin is pale and scarred, you wonder from what, but it only added to his beauty. Every muscle was defined, down to his v-line. You can’t help but notice the ache in his pants, and you nearly sigh dreamily. It’s almost embarrassing how your core throbs, and this was just one of the two. Suguru picks Satoru’s shirt up off the floor, setting it on the coffee table instead. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, and you fight the urge to request his shirt be removed as well. You smile shyly at him, and he chuckles, reaching his hand out to hold your chin. “We’re gonna take good care of you, baby.” He insists, thumbing at your bottom lip. 
Your eyes stare up at him expectantly, taking in the lustful gaze he finally reveals. His dark eyes become half-lidded and focused on your pout. “Can I kiss you sweet girl?” He asks, sharp brow arched. 
You nod eagerly, feeling the cushion on your other side dip with the weight of the other male. He must have set up the camera, surely he wouldn’t allow Suguru to beat him to the punch. Much to your surprise, he only sets his hand on your hip, leaning forward for a better view of his best friend’s mouth covering yours. Geto’s lips are rough like his hands, in a good way. His tongue is warm as it laps over yours, his large hand still holding your jaw. You can feel Satoru’s hands knead at your thighs, but he’s not protesting. He doesn’t even protest when Suguru’s other large hand slips under your ass to pull you up into his lap. He just scoots closer to keep you sandwiched between hard bodies. 
“Yeah this is hot.” Satoru groans, palming himself over his pants when Suguru gently hikes your skirt up so he can access more skin, his thick fingers digging into your doughy flesh. You could feel his lips curl into a smile at his friend’s encouragement, kissing you harder. Your senses were overwhelmed, though you expected and wanted that. He tasted so good, letting your tongue dominate his just for the enjoyment. He nearly chuckles at your eagerness, it seems their desire wasn’t one sided. Your hands tug at his shirt, so he lets you catch your breath so he can yank it off.  “Ah, you gotta match us, angel.” Satoru grins, nimble fingers playing with the hem of your tank top. 
You blush, knowing you have no bra beneath. It was still too hot to wear layers, though your body felt like it was at the highest temperature it had been in a while. You’re so pretty, Suguru thinks, watching you peel your tank top off, bare chest to them. Your tits were perfect, nipples hardening before their very eyes. Satoru groaned, reaching to cup one of your breasts. Suguru’s lips latch onto your neck, his hands still kneading at your thighs. You can feel your cunt dampen as Satoru dives forward, sucking your pebbled bud in between his teeth. You gasp softly at the sensation, Suguru’s eyes open, watching his roommate fondle your tits and feeling you writhe in his lap only made his hardness nestle into your side, making you gasp again. Both of them were going to be huge, and you didn’t know how you would be able to handle it. 
Suguru snaps you out of your thoughts, rotating you in his lap just a little. Your back was flush against his chest, the skin almost burning where you connected. His muscles made you feel like you were sitting against a wall. If not for his warmth and the bulge settled in between your asscheeks, you may have thought you were. Satoru hums, pleased with having more access to you, his tongue swirling your sensitive bud. His fingers pinch the other, the slight pain sending shockwaves through your body, causing you to arch into his mouth. 
Geto chuckles, his hands still stroking gentle paths from your thighs to your hips, where nothing but your skirt stopped him. He arched his brow, jerking the fabric to sit around your waist. “No panties either, sweet girl?”
Satoru pulled away from your chest at this, a thin string of saliva stringing from his plump pink lips to your breast. “Oh dollface, I’m beginning to think you got ready for us.” He chuckles, the sound bright and bubbly as he scoots back on the couch to gaze at your newly revealed pussy. Your head spins from the way they look at you, like you’re a precious jewel. You feel drunk on the mix of their touches, where one was sweet and warm the other was rougher and icy. Suguru continues to press sporadic kisses to your neck and shoulders, trying to find your sweet spots. You whine so darling when he finds them, he can’t help but smirk to his best friend as your eyes flutter shut from the simple pleasure of him kissing your neck and the white-haired boy’s grip on your knees to spread your legs. He groans at the sight of your slick cunt, nodding to Geto. 
“She’s soakin’ Sugu. Hope you don’t mind but I gotta taste.” He hummed, his svelte fingers spread your lips apart and you shiver from the cold air being blown on your center. Satoru giggles, you were so cute like this, wiggling on Suguru’s lap and craving more of them by the second. 
Suguru nodded his permission, obsidian eyes locked on his friend’s sapphire ones. He thought the boy’s excitement was adorable, and yearned to watch the enjoyment of both of you. The lanky boy cooed his happiness and leaned forward to lick a fat stripe down your center, moaning at the taste. Your head fell back on Geto’s shoulder, hand flying to tangle up in white tresses. He giggles again, relishing the way your body responds to him. He does it again, humming at the intense lust in Suguru’s eyes and your sweet gasp. 
“Stop playing.” Suguru warned, biting marks into your skin to give you some pressure and pleasure since his counterpart wanted to toy with you. 
Gojo pouted, but you nodded your head in agreement. “No fun.” He huffed, but dipped his head down to your core for the count this time. You didn’t want him to tease? Fine. He won’t. But just remember that you asked for it. His tongue plunges in your weeping hole, his fingers assisting him in drawing circles around your clit. You moan softly, body jolting at the sudden intensity. Your hips rolled, fucking yourself on the muscle. 
Suguru hums at the sight, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from moving too much. It was clear your ex didn’t know how to treat you sexually, either. You feel his warm breath in your ear, Satoru’s fingers replacing his tongue, pushing his long fingers straight to your spongy spot. Your vision spots from that alone, not to mention his lips suckling your nerves. Suguru watches every move, impossibly turned on by the two of you together. 
“You’re so beautiful with his mouth on you like that, sweetheart. Do you like it?” He coos, collecting all your hair and brushing it over your shoulder so he could see all of your perfect face. You nod quickly, and Suguru chuckles, a deep rumble that you can feel in his chest against your back. He realizes that you’ve lost the ability to speak just from Satoru. It’s sweet, but he knows you’re in for one hell of a time. 
“You sure you can handle both of us, dear? I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He asks, eyes focused on the animalistic way Satoru devours you. His mouth was a mess of your arousal, tongue swiping his lips to keep your taste. 
You were already overwhelmed, but it was the best feeling of your life. You didn’t know how you would please both of them, but you knew you could. So you nod. 
“Use your words for me then, sweetheart. We’ll do the color system, m’kay? Green is all good, yellow for slow, red for stop, can you do that for us?” He says, running his fingers through your hair. Your eyes meet Satoru’s, who also seems to be waiting for a reply. You nod again. 
“Yes, ‘m fine, green all good.” You mutter, grinding your pussy against Satoru’s nose even though he was buried in your cunt. He sucks on your clit again, but it makes your stomach jump and your hips rock faster so they know you’re close to your first real orgasm in who knows how long. 
Geto hums his approval, tightening his hold on your waist. “You gonna make her cum for us, Sato?” He inquires, every touch flaming hot. Gojo nods, teeth scraping your bud and it’s all you need to topple over the edge. Suguru’s hands go back to your hips, your fingers tugging on the other boy who still lapped at your nectar. He hums his enjoyment, sitting back on his knees and winking at you. 
“You can pull my hair all night long, angel.” He says, watching your hole clench around nothing. How cute. He flickers his gaze to the man holding you upright, arousal nearly dripping off his tongue. “I think she needs a little break, you wanna taste?” He asks, which confuses you for a moment. How could he give you a break if they were going to swap?
Geto hums. “Of course I do. Come here.” He says, smirking at your bewildered gaze on them. Satoru grins and leans over you, planting his lips on the man who asked. You gasp softly, the sight more arousing than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, as they seemed pretty attracted to each other, you just felt ashamed for getting off on it. But you can’t help it, the way they hummed their satisfaction against each other’s mouths was melodic, Satoru opening his mouth for Suguru to utilize how he wants. The latter holds his jaw in similar fashion to the way he held yours earlier, controlling the space between them. He pulls back a little, mostly just to view your arousal covering Satoru’s bratty face and to look over at your awestruck features. He smirks at this, his tongue darting out as he brings Satoru’s face back to his, though they don’t kiss. Satoru whimpers as Suguru licks the sides of his mouth, cleaning all your natural honey off his best friend’s face. 
You gasp softly, not able to stop yourself, “That’s fuckin’ hot.” Satoru chuckles, his hand closing around Suguru’s wrist so he could turn his head in his grip. 
“I agree baby girl. He just had to taste you on my tongue.” He grinned, though that was the exact truth. The flavor of the two of you combined was driving him crazy. His dick throbbed painfully, and he didn’t know how much of this he could take. He releases Satoru in favor of fisting his hair. 
“Let me get her other hole ready.” He demands, and only Satoru knows what he means. The white-haired boy grins devilishly, sitting back on the other end of the couch. He wiggles out of his pants and tosses them over his shoulder, cock slapping his eight-pack. 
He looks at you with that same bare-naked stare he gave you the day you met, his smirk unfaltering. “Lean over and suck my cock, baby. He wants to see it and he's gotta get your ass ready.” He giggles softly, his large hand wrapping around his own length to keep it from aching. Your eyes flicker to the cock in question, aggravated red tip oozing pre-ejaculate down his prettily veined shaft, curving upwards to abuse every spongy spot. He was much bigger than your ex, you knew it would take some time to adjust. Nonetheless, you eagerly slip off of Suguru’s lap, getting on all fours. Suguru takes the opportunity to free his cock from his pants, sitting on his knees so he had a bird’s eye view of you crawling toward Satoru.
Gojo nearly vibrates with excitement, moving his hand away from his length so you could take over. He suddenly pouts when your pretty eyes look up at him, he’s realized he still hasn’t kissed you yet. “Oh no sugar, Can’t have you suck me off if I haven’t even been a gentleman.” 
He hums, sitting up so he could meet your lips. He was greedy with his kiss, lips hungrily moving over yours. You respond in kind, hand resting on the back of his neck where your fingers just brushed over the soft fuzz of his undercut. He moans softly, clearly enjoying the way you play with him. He pulls back with a loud smacking sound, resting his back against the arm of the couch once more, hands folded behind his head. Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru’s showmanship, but he watches anyway.
“Much better, go ahead, hot stuff.” He coos, looking rather satisfied with himself. Your face is why, so drunk on his kiss that you sit back on your knees and hover over his tip, squealing in surprise as Suguru holds your waist. You can feel his length rubbing against your thighs, positioned under your cunt. His tip collides with your clit so perfectly when you rock back on him, your hips doing so automatically. You moan softly at the feeling, and Suguru hums as your arousal continues to drip around him. 
“I’m gonna fuck you while you give him head, sweetness, ‘s that good with you?” He asks, praying you say yes. He didn’t want to throw too much at you at once, but his dick was beginning to hurt. He sighs happily when you nod. You bite your lip, knowing you were about to feel unimaginably full. You turn your head to peek at his size, finding him not as long but nearly twice as girthy as the dick you hold in your hands. And you already needed two hands for Satoru. You sigh, Satoru’s slender fingers grabbing your chin to pull your focus back to him. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout him angel, I got you soaked enough to take him.” He brags, squeezing your cheeks between his grip. He giggles at your smooshed face and hums, bringing your chin back down to his tip. You batted your eyelashes at him, watching his face carefully as you stick your tongue out and take him into your mouth. He groans at the relief of your warm insides, ego stroked when you gag just halfway down his length. He can feel himself in the back of your tight throat, eyes fluttering shut when you start to bob your head along him. Suguru smirks, enjoying the sight. He can see the muscles twitch in Satoru’s stomach and he can feel your pussy lips move on his dick leading him to believe you’re clenching around nothing. 
He can fix that. He palms your round ass, relishing the way you push yourself back into him while easing more and more of Satoru’s dick down your throat. It’s gorgeous, Gojo’s soft moans and the choking gags of you trying to take all of him. Your throat squeezes him perfectly, his hand coming down on the back of your neck to keep you there. He forces his eyes open, wanting to remember the way you look with his cock stuffed deep, tears rolling down your face. All three of you have forgotten about the camera, just performing for each other. Satoru can tell when Suguru plunges in by the way your eyes widen and you temporarily stop moving. Though you don’t have much a choice once Suguru starts rolling his hips against your asscheeks. The burn as he stretches you out is delicious, making you moan around Satoru. He moans in return, the vibration of your voice going straight to his balls. He can’t help but slightly buck into your warm mouth, Suguru’s slow thrusts giving you time to adjust. 
You clench around him and that sensation alone is so good he almost moans. Satoru wasn’t lying, he made sure you were absolutely drenched to make accommodating his friend’s size as easy as possible. Your walls were still so choking and spongy, he can feel a tingling sensation shoot down his spine. He watches you get used to him, your hips slightly wiggle back for him, and you resume bobbing along Satoru. It was hard to breathe with such a task at hand, you took deep breaths through your nose, but you still felt dizzy as Suguru picked up his pace. 
Satoru watched the pleasure wash over Geto’s face, the man’s eyes closing and mouth dropping open. It was so hot, especially with the way you squeezed around him. It was too much, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Your pretty face at his cock, burying your nose in his snow colored pubes paired with Geto’s soft grunts as he plows into you and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass was sending him hurtling towards the finish line and he didn’t want this to end yet. He didn’t want to shoot his load in your mouth—not this time anyway. 
Suguru settles into a regular pace, trying not to falter when you squeeze down on him like this. His thrusts are powerful, pushing you into Gojo’s trimmed bush with every rock of his hips. The men are rewarded with the sweet sound of your gags, to which they both cherish. He tries to be gentle as he gathers some spit on his fingers, tentatively sliding the spit around your tight ring while he keeps you drunk on dick. You mewl softly as his thick index slips in, both holes squeezing on him so fucking good he groans. Suddenly, there’s a rubber band ready to snap in your gut, making you gasp around the girth keeping you from speaking, as if you could do much of that anyway.
The man responsible hums, giving your ass a gentle smack. “Gonna cum for us again baby?” You nod along Satoru, and he beams with satisfaction. “Go ahead, get my dick nice and wet for me.” His words are so lewd that you can’t help but obey, gagging on Satoru as you try to cry out. The slender boy can’t handle it, biting down on his lip to avoid  the inevitable. 
“Sugu, not gonna make it like this..” Satoru says in a whiny tone, watching your ass ripple into Geto’s hips and your face contort in added bliss. Suguru peeked at his friend’s pouty face and chuckling at the blown pupils and flushed cheeks of the bratty male. 
“That’s fine bubs, we’ll change it up. I’m sure that throat needs a break.”  Suguru hummed, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He didn’t want anything obscuring his view of your perfect mounds. He lightly spanked the flesh, relishing your little squeal. He treasures his last few pumps of you, knowing he would give his whiny counterpart your sopping hole. Satoru releases your hair, smiling brightly at the sight of your ruined face. 
“Now those are some tears I can get behind, princess.” He coos, thumbing them off your pretty face. He brings your mouth back to his, not willing to give you any time to breathe. You’re gasping against his lips, but your hold on his shoulders begs him to come closer. Suguru continues prodding your hole, spitting on the second entrance of yours he’d be taking. He slips a second finger in, and you don’t complain. You sigh into Satoru’s mouth and tug at his hair, lips smacking against each other's messily. Geto loves watching this, his other hand stroking his aching erection. 
Satoru watches his friend, trying to sync his timing to his. He was only trying to keep you occupied so the other man could work your asshole, knowing it would be a big stretch, Satoru was content to make out with you until he comes untouched, but he knows Suguru won’t allow that to happen. He nods, now able to scissor his fingers in your hole. His strong hands grip your hips, pulling you from the white-haired man which earned a whine from you. 
“You’ll get Satoru back, beloved, don’t worry.” Suguru rasps, pulling you back into his lap, facing away from him as you did earlier, the only difference being your knees folded under you as if you were still in doggy. You felt a little guilty with his comment, not wanting to prefer one over the other. So you lay your head back on his shoulder, using two fingers on his jaw to turn his face close enough for you to push your lips on his. Satoru loves the sight, the two sexiest people he knows making out right in front of him! The only thing that could possibly make this better is what they’re planning on next. Gojo walks forward on his knees, once more caging you in. It’s his mouth you feel soothing the marks his friend left earlier, breaking new patches of skin to bruise of his own. 
Suguru’s hand cups your cheek, his kisses deliciously slow and sensual. He didn’t want his hard work to go to waste though, so he lifts you slightly, lining his cock up with your asshole. He breaks the sweet kiss, “You think you can take both of us, baby?” 
“Oh she can do it, poor girl needs it.” Satoru hums, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Isn’t that right?” 
You nod. If you thought you were incapable of speaking earlier, then maybe you’ve never had good sex in your entire life. “Green, go for it..wan’ have both.” You whine, making Satoru light up. 
“You heard the lovely lady.” Satoru purrs, hands on your waist as a means to push you onto Suguru’s cock if he doesn't do it fast enough for his liking. Suguru just chuckles through his nose and shakes his head. 
“So impatient. Very well.” He hums, using his leverage on your hips to slide his tip past the squeezing ring of muscle. He grips your hips harder than he means to, undoubtedly leaving semi-permanent marks. It was impossible not to, he was trying to slowly inch his way in, but your ass was sucking him in so good he had to slowly shove the rest in. You let out a loud wanton moan, bordering scream. Satoru moaned from the sight and sound alone, his only touch being his hands on your waist. He was going to claim your cunt, no doubt, but he had to let you get accustomed to Suguru’s rod in your ass. 
He just lets you sit on it for a moment, partially for his own benefit. He had to get himself under control or he would bust immediately, and ruin everything for Satoru. And he would never hear the end of his mouth if he did. You feel so full, the pressure of him stretching everything open makes you see stars. You yearn for movement, for some relief on your throbbing clit, so you whine, watching Satoru’s face morph into surprise as you try to bounce on Suguru already. 
The man moans, the first one he’s let loose all evening. It’s deep and once again thunders against your back. You were better than the fantasies he had conjured in his head, and he was determined to give you the time of your life. So he aids you in your bounces, his rough hands supporting your weight and dragging you up and down his shaft at his own pace. It was still too good, the warmth and tightness choking down on him perfectly.
“Fuck her, Satoru.” Geto breathily demands, the gravelly tone of his voice sending a chill to both you and the man he ordered inside you. Satoru didn’t hesitate, his knees situated between Suguru’s. He lined up with your entrance, tugging you forward just a bit which must have deepened the long-haired man’s connection as you started moaning so lewdly Satoru wondered if he’d paint your walls just by pushing inside. He couldn’t watch your poor pussy clamp around nothing any longer though, bottoming out in you and holding your cheeks in one large hand. He enjoyed how your sounds changed, sounding warped due to your smooshed face. He smiled, your cunt tightening around him, meaning it got even tighter for Geto. 
“You heard the man, ‘m gonna fuck you angel. Let us know you’re okay.” He cooed, and even though his words were sweet he almost sounded like he was teasing you. 
You nod, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched at the sensation of two huge cocks stuffing you full. You thought your intestines must be forced to move to accommodate them, heavy breathing and soft grunts in your ears. “Good, so good.” 
Satoru nodded, kissing your forcibly puckered lips sweetly as he began to move inside you too. His eyes roll back for a moment, everything about this was perfect. Your silky walls pulsating around him, the feeling of Suguru’s cock rubbing against his only separated by a thin wall of tissue, the look on his lovers faces. He groans, tossing his head back as he fucks into you harder. He dreamed of a day like this, and now he could only pray this wasn’t a one time thing. He was already addicted to this, and by the looks of it so was Suguru. He hadn’t ever seen the man so relaxed, though he enjoyed it immensely. As if he could feel his stare, Geto opens his eyes to make contact with the man staring. He winked, a slight smirk. Your hips continued to buck, getting fucked no matter how you moved. Forward onto Satoru’s curved length abusing your pleasure spot or backwards onto Suguru’s impaling girth splitting you open. You feel that familiar sensation of fire building in your gut, your pants and moans getting closer together. The men look at each other, nodding breathlessly. They were close, like they had been since the moment they saw you undress. The feeling of your choking walls on both ends made it impossible to hold out any longer, though your body spasms tell them they won’t have to. Your grip on Satoru’s hair tightens, a wailing moan signifying your release as if the rush of cum surrounding Gojo wasn’t obvious enough. 
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna get both loads love, you want that?” Suguru grunts in your ear. 
You nod vigorously, head so empty you could only collapse against his chest, making him support the full weight of you. He didn’t mind at all, grinning ear to ear. He was hanging on by a thread, but it was his job to make sure everyone was happy. 
“You first Sato.” He groaned, clearly struggling. 
“With me.” The man pouted, the deal so sweet that Suguru couldn’t refuse. 
He nods, “With you.” He gulps, waiting for the tell-tale crinkle of Satoru’s nose to tell him when to release the burning coil in his gut. Satoru could tell that he was waiting for him, his thrusts to your cunt menacingly rough. It only takes a few more before his nose crinkles and mouth drops open, cock twitching inside you fucked out cunt. 
Suguru gasps softly, his hot load spurting off like an erupting volcano, quickly filling you up and forcing the rest to ooze out around him despite how well he plugged your hole. Satoru’s seed spills out into you like a dam had been holding him back, both sensations so warm and messy and delicious that you moan softly at just the feeling, head spinning as it falls back onto Geto’s shoulder with heavy breaths. 
Gojo slumps forward slightly, kissing your jaw with the most tenderness he had displayed all night. “I knew you could do it, hot stuff. That was fucking amazing.” He hums, fishing for an article of clothing to put under you. He finds Suguru’s shirt, and raises up enough to slide it under you with Geto’s help. They couldn’t have you staining the couch, now. Gojo slides out of you, leaving you on Suguru’s comfortable lap. The black haired man smiles at you sleepily, pushing some of your hair out of the way. 
“Yeah, it was, we hope you had a good time?” He hums as Satoru goes to stop  the recorder. 
You giggle and nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I guess it’s time to get cleaned up and back to my place, for as long as I still have it.” You chuckle dryly, your entire body was a pile of mush, and you couldn’t move if you tried. You just didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make your problems their responsibility, despite their eagerness to take care of you. 
Satoru comes back with three bottles of water and a sheepish look on his face, an oddity for him. “I may or may not have forgotten to press record.” He says with a slight grimace, handing out the waters as an apology. Your amusement is clear, and you wonder if he did it on purpose.
Suguru laughs, and he can’t figure out if it’s at you or Satoru. “Hm, what a predicament. You’re not going anywhere.” He squeezes your hips and lifts you off his length, setting you back in his lap regularly. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you don’t have to worry a hair on your pretty little head about your place. You can stay here.” He said matter of factly, his arm hangs possessively around your waist. 
Gojo hums. “We could use a sweet lady like you. We’ll make up for that year of faked orgasms.” He winks and takes a swig of water. They make a convincing argument, and with the way Satoru wipes the pearls of cum off your legs and the way Suguru carries you in his arms to start a shower, you have no doubt that they will take care of you.
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mischievous-thunder · 5 months
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Loki's been perfecting his skills and techniques for centuries. He's probably gone through this particular scene thousands of times. But for Mobius it's the first time every single time. He's equally stunned and enraptured by Loki's beyond perfect scientific knowledge which from Mobius's perspective has developed probably in less than a minute. Nevertheless, when the initial shock is over Mobius instinctively trusts Loki with his life.
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theonewiththefanfics · 6 months
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The Panic of Love (one-shot)
Synopsis: Emotions don't come easy to Carmen. They never have. But when his feelings come to a boiling point, it's not like a pot on a stove you can close. They spill out. And change everything. The question is - is he ready to face that change?
Pairing: Carmen (Carmy) barzatto x fem!roommate!Reader
Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, SMUT (softest smut I've ever written)
Warnings: swearing, Carmy being hard on himself, SMUT
Word count: 7929
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The weather channel was a goddamned fucking liar, and the weatherman too.
When Y/N finally entered The Bear, she was soaked to the bone, teeth chattering, and every possible expletive on the tip of her tongue because all the weatherman had said was it’d be cloudy. Not a fucking hurricane in sight. What a load of bullshit that had been.
It was a Saturday, her day off, unlike Carmen’s, the man who’d been her roommate for the past year, and when he’d left early in the morning, the Chicago sky still dark and void of any sun rays, she’d said she’d stop by for some of Marcus’s doughnuts and maybe a sandwich to take back home.
Carmen had raised a brow at her. “You know if you want a sandwich, all you have to do is ask, right?”
Y/N scoffed, rolling over and snuggling into her pillow. “You spend your whole day cooking food. I’m not going to make you work when you’re home.”
“No, really, I don’t mind –,”
“Nope.” She just shook her head. “Home is for relaxing, not working. Besides, kinda wanted to go on a walk today anyway. This will give me a reason to.”
Now though she wanted the weather channel to get struck by lightning. And the weatherman too.
“Well, you look like you just crawled out of a sewer,” Richie, Carmen’s cousin who he run The Bear with, said with a smirk.
The thunder that rumbled outside matched the look on Y/N’s face. “Fuck off, maybe?”
Richie just chuckled. “Coffee?”
“Yes please,” she sighed and eyed the menu above. She’d been to The Bear a few times, even before she’d gotten Carmen as a roommate, but always liked to try something new. Maybe a staple this time. “Carmy said Marcus was working on some doughnuts?”
Richie hummed in confirmation while he poured her a to-go cup of steaming bean juice. “Just in time for the batch to come out, actually.”
And it was like those had been the magic words as she saw Carmen with a big pan enter the front of the house, placing the still-warm circles of heaven behind the glass. He was about to rush back into the kitchen, but he lifted his gaze for just a split second, Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes meeting his striking blue ones, and stopped dead in his tracks.
“The fuck happened to you?” His tone wasn’t harsh, more so concerned as she surveyed her from where she was leaving an unmistakable puddle underneath her.
“Went for a swim?” She shrugged. “There was nothing in the morning news about a bloody tsunami, so I didn’t take an umbrella. It only started raining when I was halfway here. It’s not like I was gonna turn back around.”
Richie put her coffee on the countertop with a smirk, as he eyed Y/N and his cousin. He turned his mischievous eyes towards her. “How many?”
“Four,” she replied, putting her hand in the inside pocket of her jacket where her wallet sat. Even that was soaked through. “And the Italian beef sandwich as well, please.”
Carmen stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, and Y/N couldn’t deny that the way his biceps flexed was anything short of salivating worthy, so much so she had to avert her gaze towards the box Richie was filling.
“You gonna make her the sandwich, cousin?”
“Not if she plans on going home with it.”
“Why not?” Y/N snapped her head towards him, her tone like an offended child’s.
Carmen scoffed. “As if I’d ever let you go out in that torrential rain.” He nudged with his chin to the weather outside. “Give me a plate, she’ll have it in my office.”
“Carmy, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West. I won’t melt.” Y/N sighed but gave him a soft smile.
His own lips tugged up at the corners, voice much more gentle now. “And I’m not gonna let you get sick. Now come on. You can eat the sandwich in the office and put the clothes on the heaters to dry out. I have some spare ones I can give you.”
“Bear,” she started, but he already had put the made sandwich on the plate and was waiting for her to follow.
With a deep sigh, Y/N hung her head and grabbed the box of doughnuts and her coffee.
“Sorry for the puddle,” she said over her shoulder to Richie.
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll just tell everyone you peed yourself.”
All Y/N did was flip him the bird before entering the kitchen.
She’d met the chefs a few times when Carmen had invided her to family, and she truly loved each and every one of them. Sydney, Tina, and Sugar had even added Y/N to their group chat, but their interactions in real life were limited to moments like these or when they came to Carmen’s and her apartment to try out some new recipe on a day off. Carmen usually regretted introducing his roommate to them because absolute chaos reigned then.
“You do know swimming in clothes is dangerous, right?” Marcus called from the back of the kitchen where he was rolling out some dough.
“Ha ha, very funny. Just remember,” she shook the box in her hands in his direction. “The fate of your doughnut recipe is in my hands.”
“Be gentle with me, I’m sensitive,” Marcus said, making Y/N snort, and Sydney rolled her eyes from where she was concentrating on chopping up some vegetables but waving at her in greeting nonetheless.
“Don’t you look like a New York rat,” Sugar chuckled as she appeared from the freezer, Tina on her toes.
“Thanks, it’s my new aesthetic,” Y/N batted her eyelashes, and she would’ve continued to stand there and talk with everyone else had Carmen not nudged her in the side and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning her towards the office.
“You need to get in some dry clothes, and then you can blabber about. Don’t need you to catch death.”
Y/N looked at him, raising a brow. “Yes, because I act as if I’m dying when I get the sniffles. Not you. No, never you.”
“Just get in the office.” But the smile on Carmen’s face was unmistakable.
He placed her sandwich on top of a stack of papers, not really caring about them and went to rummage in his backpack where he’d put a spare pair of sweats and a jumper, he’d worn underneath his jacket that morning. Winter was approaching Chicago, so layering was starting to become a standard.
Carmen sat down on the chair, untying the laces of her boots. “Come on, step out of them. Socks too.”
Y/N did as told and tried to keep her thoughts at a PG-13 kind of a place, but Carmen, almost on his knees before her, did horrible things to her mind. Horrible, terrible, salacious, delicious things.
She put her hands on his shoulders and rested against them, hopping out of the squelching boots and letting him put some warm woollen socks on her feet he’d also placed in the backpack with him.
Once that was done, he went to the heater and put the wet boots and socks below it, giving Y/N the change of clothes and showing where the bathroom was.
When she was back in his office, not without a sly look from Syd, to which she just grumbled, “Don’t you dare start,” he pointed at the chair and made her sit down.
“Now you’ll eat your sandwich and doughnuts, drink your coffee, and I’ll let you leave only when the rain stops,” he instructed her like she was one of his chefs.
“But I feel bad,” Y/N whined. “It’s already shitty enough I’ve intruded on you and taken you away from work, I don’t want to inconvenience you more as is.”
His brow furrowed immediately at her words. “Don’t say that. You’re never an inconvenience, you hear? Never.”
For a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something more, but shook his head no. “Eat your food, drink your coffee and relax, okay?”
“Okay,” Y/N whispered back with a gentle smile, her heart thudding just a bit harder against her ribcage at his words, at his caring. “Thank you, Bear.”
With a small nod and a smile, he left Y/N and ventured back into the chaos of The Bear’s kitchen.
Suddenly, the sandwich tasted a million times better.
***
When he finally got home, Carmen was exhausted. Those couple of hours Y/N had spent at The Bear with him were the most reprieve he’d had from stress in ages. Though he was upset she’d gotten soaked through and not looking forward to the cold she was gonna get after braving that weather, he couldn’t deny the warmth that’d settled in his chest when he’d seen her face at the front of the house. However, all those warm feelings turned into dust when he saw what Y/N had made for herself for dinner.
“What the fuck is that?”
Y/N jumped back from the fridge, a hand against her heart. “Jesus fucking Christ, Carmy! You scared me shitless. When did you come home?”
“I asked, what the fuck is that?” His eyes didn’t waver away from the plate on the counter. Two string cheeses, five pickles, a Reeces Pieces cup, a dollop of Biscoff spread and some breadsticks. It was like the world’s worst charcuterie board to which Y/N was just about to add two slices of pepperoni.
As if in slow motion, Y/N turned her head to look at the plate and then back at him. “Girl dinner?” the statement came out more like a question.
“Girl what?”
“You know, girl dinner.” She shrugged, closing the fridge, and plopping the round pieces of meat onto it.
“No,” he shook his head. “Absolutely not. First, you come to the restaurant soaking wet and probably have pneumonia, and now this sort of bullshit? Not on my watch.”
He tried to reach for the plate, but Y/N was quicker, grabbing it and sprinting underneath Carmy to the sofa.
“Y/N, give it to me, and I’ll make you something of substance.”
“This is substance.” She popped a pickle in her mouth and chewed it.
Carmen huffed, placing his hands on his hips. “Why the hell are you so against me making you some normal food, yet instead you eat… that.”
“What do you mean by that? This is a fully balanced meal – main course,” she pointed at the savory things, “and dessert,” at the sweet things. “Perfectly balanced as all things should be.”
“Don’t quote Thanos at me,” Carmen shook his head. “That’s not doing you any favors right now. Now, give that to me, and I’ll make anything you want.”
Y/N moved the plate behind herself, still standing atop the couch and squinting at him in a challenge. “Make me.”
Something rushed through his body, a flash of heat so intense it almost took his breath away. And call him crazy, but he was almost a hundred per cent sure he saw something glint in her eyes as well, a certain need, but he shook those thoughts away.
Carmen sighed and hung his head. “Please give that plate to me, okay?”
“And what if I want my pickles and cheese?”
“Why do you want to torture me? What did I ever do to you?” but he said that with a chuckle, and his heart skipped a beat as a smile bloomed on Y/N’s face.
“And I told you in the morning,” she hopped off the couch and popped a half a Reece’s in her mouth, “I will not let you cook for me. You’ve done enough of that at work, so sit down and just relax. I won’t perish like some sickly Victorian child if I don’t have proper dinner every now and then.”
He glowered as she passed him and poured herself a cup of water. “And how many times have you exactly had this “girl dinner?””
They continued on like that for close to two weeks – he’d get home, and Y/N would rush to hide what was on her plate before he scolded her. It all came crashing down one evening when he’d walked inside the bathroom, ready to take a shower after a gruelling day at work when he noticed the changes.
“Y/N?” he called out, still holding the shirt and pants he’d taken off in his hands, eyes scanning the little shelf of his stuff. “Can you please come in here?”
He heard the quick pattering of feet before a breathless Y/N appeared around the corner, a strappy sleep top and shorts on with a half-eaten pickle in her hand. Her and her damned pickles. “What? What’s wrong?”
“That.” He nudged his chin towards the shelf. “Where’s all my stuff?”
“That is your stuff.”
“No,” his brow furrowed. “I literally have one shampoo bottle. This is like – twenty different things. Where did they come from?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not twenty, it’s exactly how many one person needs. Besides, you ran out. So, I went to the store and got you some.”
Carmen stammered, still scanning the bottles, but his heart was beating faster in his chest now. She’d gotten them for him without him even asking. She’d thought of him when she’d gone out to the store. He stuttered for a second before looking at the girl leaning against the door frame, chewing on the last bits of the pickle. “At – at least let me pay you back.”
“Absolutely not,” she scoffed, truly offended now. “You don’t let me eat "girl dinner", which, by the way, I enjoy, but I digress. So, don’t think I’m gonna let you use that 10-in-1 abomination." She pointed at two matching bottles. "Shampoo and conditioner, both specifically for curly hair because god knows what you’ve been doing to them is abuse. Body wash and face wash, and no, they cannot be used interchangeably.” She pointed at the other two bottles, explaining what was what and turning around to where on the towel rack three fluffy ones had been placed, all different sizes and colors. “A towel for your body, one for your hair and one for your face.”
“That’s way too many towels.”
“No, that’s precisely the right amount of towels,” she emphasized.
“Y/N…”
“Okay, fine. If you don’t want any of this, no problem.” She shrugged. “Can I go eat my pickles and cheese strings then?”
Immediately, his exasperated look turned into a dark scowl. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He’d already popped a handmade pizza in the oven and had simply allowed Y/N to snack in the meantime. No "girl dinner" on his watch.
All Y/N did was smirk. “Thought so. It’s called a compromise, Carmy,” she squeezed his bicep. “You take care of me, I take care of you, simple as that. Besides, I ran out of my stuff, so it made sense to pick up some stuff for you too.”
And with a peck on his cheek, Y/N left the bathroom, going to rummage in her closet for a blanket for their movie night. But Carmen just stood there, looking at the place where she’d just been.
You take care of me, I take care of you.
Those words echoed in his head like a broken record.
But that’s what they had been doing for one another, wasn’t it? He took care of her, she took care of him.
He made sure she ate proper food and gave her some spare clothes that one morning so she wouldn’t have to brave the rain and get sick. He’d let her stay in the office, clad in his jumper and sweats as she waited for her socks and shoes to dry out. He held her on the nights when the heating turned off in the apartment, and she was shivering in her bed. He helped her through insomnia-filled nights Y/N tended to have when stress from work wound her up to the point she could barely function even though he was dead tired himself.
And Y/N... she always made sure he didn’t bottle up his emotions. She was there for him, listened to his rants, held him when he needed just that, and made sure he always had food in the fridge, not just some pathetic scraps he put together for his own meals. She helped him do the laundry and never complained when instead of their set movie night, he simply came home and collapsed half on top of her on the sofa, dead tired from the shift at The Bear, running her hands over his tired muscles and letting him drift off to sleep in her safe embrace.
They took care of one another.
But not just that.
No.
Not for him.
Because Carmen knew - to him it meant so much more.
He knew he was completely in love with her and would do anything to make sure she was happy.
He peeked out from the bathroom and into the living room, looking at Y/N, how she flitted around the room, leaving chaos behind herself, but god, did he love that chaos. Carmen hadn’t even realized up until that moment, how much he wanted to see her strewn about clothes on the couch, her scattered shoes and used mugs on the countertops. Because it made him feel like he was truly home. Not just in a house he stayed at. Home.
She was his home.
Carmen had entered the living room, standing by the couch and watching how Y/N pulled the pizza out of the oven, dicing up some basil to sprinkle on the still bubbling cheese and tomato sauce while adding some burger sauce on the half she’d claimed as hers, leaving Carmen’s half free for him to add what he wanted.
She turned around in search of the pizza cutter and lifted her eyes, their gazes locking. “You okay, Bear?”
He just stood there, unable to move or speak as his mind ran a mile a minute. And then a string wrapped around his chest and started to tighten. And he couldn’t breathe anymore.
Carmen doesn’t remember when exactly he dropped to his knees, pain shooting up his legs from smashing onto the tiled kitchen floor, but he didn’t drop fully. Y/N’s hands were instantly on his shoulders, palms rushing to cup his face as she tried to figure out what was going on. He didn’t doubt she found pure panic in his eyes. Instantly, she knew what to do.
“Breathe with me, okay?” She took his palm and pressed it to the centre of her chest, his fingers splayed against the skin. “Just breathe.”
And he tried to mimic her, focus on how her chest rose and fell, matching his own breathing to Y/N’s. Feel how her heart beat underneath her skin.
Pathetic, he thought. He can’t even tell the girl he’s in love with his feelings without having a full-blown panic attack.
“Carmy, breathe,” she soothed, pulling his forehead to hers, letting him ground himself in the physical contact Y/N provided. She was solid. Real. There.
Bit by bit, he felt the huge wave of panic recede, but it lingered, like a tsunami waiting to break and rip everything away in its wake.
“What happened?” her voice was low as if she was talking to a wild animal afraid to spook it. “What brought this on?”
“I don’t – I,” he took in greedy gulps of air as Y/N rubbed his back. “I can’t…”
Because he couldn’t. It would ruin everything, wouldn’t it? They had such a good thing going not only as roommates, but as friends, and him confessing he was in love would just shatter that bit of normalcy, and stability he’d managed to create.
Besides, Y/N would never feel the same way about him. Yes, she was kind and sweet and always made sure Carmen took care of himself, but that’s just who she was as a person.
Her grip on the back of his neck tightened, stopping the spiral his mind was falling into.
“Talk to me.” She whispered. “Please, Carmy, talk to me. I need to know what happened so I can help you.”
“I can’t tell you,” he finally got out in between gasps of air. “I can’t. Please don’t make me say it.”
He was shaking his head, but not pulling away. Not that she’d let him, as her nails slowly and gently scraped along the nape of his neck.
“What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?” Y/N murmured.
“It’s not,” he huffed, trying to get a grip on his words. “It’s not bad… I – I don’t think it’s bad…”
“Then why can’t you tell me?”
He bit down hard on his lip, taking a moment to collect himself. “Because it will change things. And I’m scared of how it could change.”
“But change isn’t always so bad. Just look at The Bear, look at how good the restaurant is doing.”
“This is nothing like the restaurant.”
“Then how is it?”
He thought for a moment, eyes closed, focusing on Y/N and her presence.
“Bear, please talk to me. You just had a fucking panic attack seemingly from nowhere, and I’m – I’m scared,” she pleaded.
His eyes snapped up to meet her incredibly worried ones, and yes, scared. She tried to read whatever was on his face, to find an explanation as to what had set it off.
“I – I’m terrified. I’m so fucking terrified,” he whispered.
“It’s okay to feel that way. But I’m here, okay? I won’t let you go through this alone.”
He took in a shuddering breath, breaking their eye contact because he couldn’t do it, not if she was looking at him so intensely. The words were barely audible, but she most definitely heard them. “I’m in love with you.”
There. He’d said it, and he couldn’t take those words back. They were out in the open, and the ball was in Y/N’s court. But to his surprise, her forehead didn't move from his. He could feel the light puffs of air as she breathed out, a slight stutter in the pattern. “And why were you so scared to tell me that?”
“I – I don’t,” and his brain started to swirl again, but Y/N was there, her gentle fingers playing with the small hairs at the nape of his neck, grounding him back in reality. Carmen took a deep breath. “I’m so scared. Of what you’ll say. I can’t lose you, I can’t lose one more person I love. But I also know you deserve so much better than what I can offer. I’m a mess. I can’t afford much. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can barely deal with my emotions, and I have so many issues I sometimes wonder how I’m not completely on my own… But… and I know how selfish this sounds, but I don’t want you to want better… I want you to want me the same way I want you… how need you.”
“Carmy,” Y/N sighed brushing her hand against his cheek. “You will never lose me, alright? Never. As long as you want me around you, I’ll be here. I think you could kill someone, and I’d be there for you to help and get rid of the body. As for that other thing…” she bit her lip. “I don’t think I could ever find anything better than you. Nor do I want to. Not when I already have found you.”
That’s when his eyes finally opened, her Y/E/C ones gazing at him. She gave him a shy smile. “Call us two pathetic clichés for falling for the roommate, but the thought of you going on a date with someone else would probably send me into a complete spiral. Because I do want you the same way you want me. If you’ll have me.”
And that horrible, suffocating tightness in Carmen’s chest released. It was like after years of barely breathing, he could finally get a breath in, and the air tasted so fresh, so filling, it was intoxicating. A drowning man finally coming up for air.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N chuckled, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “I don’t buy shampoos and body washes and all that shit just for anyone. They were fucking expensive.”
His responding laughter was light. He felt so fucking light, it was amazing.
“I really want to kiss you,” Carmen’s voice was more confident, though still tentative as if he was afraid to push further and cross some boundary, eyes flitting to the ground.
He could hear her small intake of breath before Y/N said, “Well, I’m definitely not ever going to be opposed to that.”
Gradually, his palms roved over her waist and settled against her cheeks, their eyes not breaking away from one another.
Another wave of fear rushed through him, but when Y/N’s fingers splayed themselves against the small of his back, trying to push him closer to her, those fears were diminished. For a minute, he just breathed her in, drank in the feeling of having her so close to him, but when he finally kissed her, when he finally had her lips against his, he pretty much melted. The way her hands wove around his neck and into his hair, as if Y/N couldn’t get closer to him if she tried, was as close to heaven as he’d ever get in this life.
“Can I take you to bed?” His head was spinning as he pulled back for a breath, lips craving to be put back on Y/N’s, but he’d die if he at least didn’t ask. Carmen was trembling so bad he had to bury his face in her neck for a moment to steel himself.
“Are you sure?” Y/N asked, breathless, chest heaving, fingers digging into the bare muscles of his back. 
She knew he’d never had a relationship, and what he’d just done – the confession, the kiss - had been a huge step on its own. But when he finally pulled back, and she scanned his eyes, looked deep into them, Carmen knew all she saw was one hundred per cent conviction. He couldn’t deny the pleasure it elicited in him as he felt a shiver run through Y/N’s body at that, her pupils blowing so wide it almost swallowed the Y/E/C color, two black desire-filled pools devouring him.
“Never been more sure of anything.” His voice was low, and soft, but steady, unlike his heart.
Her responding kiss was more than enough of an answer.
Carmen was shirtless, so he thought it to be only fair if he rid Y/N of her shirt, but she was a lot quicker and had it yanked over her head in a split second, so much so he barely noticed the disconnect between their lips, and then she was back on him again. They kissed for a little bit more before he practically itched to take it to the bed.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her stand, and Y/N hissed.
Worry instantly ate at him, making him pull back and scan her from head to toe. “What’s wrong?”
She straightened out, rubbing at her knees. “Making out on the kitchen tiles does nothing for your knees.”
Once again, that tightness starting to coil around his heart, released as he intertwined their fingers and led her to his room. It was simply closer. Carmen could have done with the couch, but he thought she deserved their first time to be on an actual bed where he could properly show just how deep his feelings ran. If saying what he felt was so difficult, maybe showing would be easier for him.
Along the way, he’d rid her of her bra, letting his hands explore Y/N’s body and figuring out what made her sigh and moan and what she didn’t like, so he could focus on doing exactly what made her lose her mind.
He helped her shimmy out of her shorts and threw them somewhere over his shoulder as they stumbled into the room, and she plopped backwards onto the bed.
Carmen leaned over her, hands resting by her head while Y/N pulled him back down to kiss him again. He knew his vices, like cigarettes, but this had to be the newest one, the strongest one he knew he’d never be able to quit now that he’d gotten a taste. Never wanted to quit.
A shrill ring stopped them dead in their tracks. It took him a moment to understand it was his phone ringing.
“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” he grumbled as he peeled himself off Y/N and rummaged through his jacket pockets to find the offending piece of technology. Not even looking at who was calling, he turned the phone completely off so there were no more disturbances.
When he turned back around, he found Y/N kicking her underwear to the ground and crawling onto the duvet.
“I wanted to do that,” he murmured, seeing her naked on his bed.
Y/N raised a brow. “Would you like me to put them back on?”
“Absolutely fucking not, I’m not an idiot.”
Her responding smile made his heart soar.
In an instant, he was back atop her, kissing and grabbing at whatever he could before he slowly traveled down. Carmen relished in the hitch in her breath and the soft way she pleaded his name.
He could spend forever like that – worshipping against her skin. He didn’t need water, didn’t need food or anything else as long as Y/N allowed him to do stay by her side.
Digging his fingers into her thighs, Carmen spread them wide as he made his way down her body before he found himself right where he’d wanted to be for ages now.
“Carmy, wait,” she breathed out, and he instantly stopped, worry blooming in his chest.
“I -,” she huffed. “I want tonight to be about you. It should be about you, not me.”
 “Oh, believe me,” he smiled, kissing and biting down on the inside of her thigh before soothing the bite with a kiss, and Y/N’s hips were already rolling up to meet his mouth. “All of this is for me.”
She could do nothing but whimper out, “All for you, only you, Bear,” and let her eyes roll to the back of her head as he finally put his mouth on her.
Maybe later on, he’d confess how many times he’d actually thought about that moment, of having Y/N’s legs over his shoulders with her hands brushing his hair out of his face and tugging at the strands. How he’d dreamt of letting his tongue lick into her and finally taste the best dessert on the planet. Or how he’d once seen her early in the morning with nothing but one of his shirts, that’d gotten mixed up in the wash, a simple pair of cotton panties on and nothing else. He’d had to go back inside the shower and jerk himself off, otherwise, he’d be sporting a raging hard-on for the rest of the day.
But now – now he’d just be enjoying the moment. Revelling in how Y/N’s heels dug into his back, how she tried to pull him closer to herself as if she wanted them to mould together. Relishing in how her nails scraped against his scalp, his tongue circling around her clit while her hips gently rolled against him in a slow rhythm. But most importantly – how she sang his name like a prayer, how she sighed and moaned it into the night air, a symphony only for him to hear.
“Carmy, shit!” Y/N gasped when two thick digits joined and slowly slid inside her.
He lifted two lustful eyes to watch how her mouth dropped open, breasts heaving, and nipples hardened to points, but the most divine moment was when she opened her eyes and looked down at him.
Their gazes met, and it took just a couple of thrusts of his fingers for the Y/E/C eyes to roll to the back of her head, and she was squeezing tight around him, cumming with a moan of his name.
Carmen didn’t let go. He helped her ride out the high, tongue licking and sucking everything Y/N offered like he’d been a man in a drought. Only when she gently tugged his head away, did he let go of her swollen clit.
“Too much,” she whispered out, trying to regain some sense of bearing while he kissed the inside of her thighs. He rested a cheek against one while she carded her fingers through his hair, strands stuck to his sweaty skin.
Finally, Y/N glanced down at him. She extended an awaiting hand. “C’mere please.”
Carmen couldn’t say no. He’d never be able to say no to her. He didn’t want to. If she asked him to kiss her, he’d kiss her breathless. If she asked him to drop to his knees, he’d worship the ground she walked on. If she asked him to say he loved her, he’d give his heart to her on a silver platter. Or maybe not. It was already in her hands, and for the first time in his life, he knew someone would carry it on velvet hands, take care of it, and love it like he’d so desperately hoped.
Y/N moaned when his tongue invaded her mouth, hands cradling his face, the remnants of her orgasm still on his tongue. Her hands grabbed at his ass as if offended he was still in his boxers as she pushed her fingers behind the band and tried to shimmy them off him.
A light chuckle escaped him at her frustration, so to stop her torture, he helped her out by removing the last bit of clothing left between them. Now they were skin to skin with nothing else separating the two.
“Condom?” she asked.
“Shit, I don’t have any,” he muttered, pulling back from the kiss.
“Neither do I.”
For a moment, everything stood still. “Listen, we don’t have to do this,” he said, nervousness overtaking his body. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because of what happened right now.”
“I mean,” she huffed, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m clean. Are – are you?”
Carmen snorted. “I think it’s fair to say, I am clean since I haven’t been with anyone in forever… not like this.” Another wave of anxiety rolled over him, but Y/N instantly quenched his fears of inadequacy that threatened to overtake him.
“I mean, maybe you’re some midnight Casanova I just don’t know about it.”
That made him smile, and a little bit of anxiety left him.
“We don’t have to go any further than this if you don’t want to, but I’m on the pill, and I don’t mind.” She pecked his lips. “We go at your pace.”
“And what if – what if I want to go further? What if I want it to be with you? All of it with you?”
He saw Y/N swallow and nod. “Then we go however far you want. Just as long as you’re sure about it.”
“I just…” He struggled to find the words before settling on a thought. “Can you just… guide me?” he asked, brushing a finger against her collarbone. “Help me make you feel good?”
“It should be good for you too. So…” She pulled him down for a kiss, biting on his lower lip and making him groan. “Don’t worry too much about me. You just gave me the best head I’ve ever had. Now I want you to feel good too.”
Carmen just nodded before he leaned down and placed soft kisses against her neck. He was so overwhelmed by love, by the care Y/N showed him, that he thought he might cry, but she didn’t let him get to it.
When soft hands wrapped around his length, he automatically thrust into the palm, pleasure running through his blood.
She guided him closer, and he took it as a sign to slowly run his cock through her folds. Y/N was already wet from her first orgasm, but as he nudged himself inside, he saw her wince.
“I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized, but she shushed him.
“Just take it slow.” She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay.”
He swallowed. “Are you sure?”
Y/N nodded, giving him a kiss. “It’s just been a while.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Y/N placed her palm against his cheek. “You could never hurt me.”
After a moment of reassurance, he locked his eyes on her face once more and slowly started to push in again. She helped along, angling her hips a bit more up as he slowly, taking his time, let himself slide into her, Y/N’s walls stretching and adjusting to his girth and length. Carmen felt every ripple, every squeeze and flutter and had she not been begging for him to go all the way in, he probably would’ve just cum then and there.
Finally, their hips rested flush against one another as he slid all the way in. More sweat sprung along his skin, as Carmen tried to hold himself at bay, letting Y/N adjust. The last thing he’d ever want to do is cause her any type of pain. Even make her a tiny bit uncomfortable, so he’d wait until she said she was ready.
She lifted his head from where he rested it against her shoulder, giving him a long kiss. “You can move,” she whispered, gliding her legs up his and letting them cross against his lower back. “Please move.”
And although Y/N'd said to not worry too much about whether she was enjoying herself, Carmen couldn’t do that. Every spare second was spent looking at her face, watching how her eyebrows scrunched in pleasure or how her mouth opened in a moan of his name, because her being in pleasure gave him pleasure.
More sweat sprung along their skins, covering them in a small layer of perspiration, and Carmen kissed Y/N’s chest taking in the salty taste, biting at her neck, her lips and arms, while drowning in the feeling of how her nails dug into his back, and her teeth bit against his shoulder as if she needed to muffle screams of pleasure, marking him as hers.
Every flutter and squeeze against his cock sent more and more ripples of bliss through him, but it was the way she sighed his name, so full of adoration and pleasure and love, that did it for him.
White exploded across his vision as the tight coil that’d been rolling together in his abdomen finally released. His fingers dug into Y/N’s skin harder, anchoring him to the moment and not letting him slip away, making him tether himself to her and what had just transpired, while she tumbled along, a high-pitched whine ringing through the night, her hips locking his in place as she rode out her own orgasm.
It felt like it took ages for him to come back down to reality, chest heaving, tightly pressed to the woman’s underneath him, his hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips with his mouth open in a faltered breath.
His whole body felt like it was made of jelly, his bones turned liquid, and the only thing keeping him from melting fully was Y/N’s soft motions as she dragged her fingers across his back, soothing where her nails had dug into his back so deliciously.
“Was that – was that good… for you?” the words were timid, his eyes unsure as he searched Y/N’s face for any signs she hadn’t enjoyed it.
Her hand lightly rested against his cheek, eyes still closed, a blissful smile on her face. “Ask me that again when I remember how to speak English.”
Carmen’s heart fluttered, and a bashful smile bloomed on his kiss-swollen lips. “You are speaking English.”
Finally, Y/N’s eyes opened, a glazed, almost drunk look to them. “Really? Because you’ve definitely scrambled my brain. Holy shit, Bear.”
He chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss against her lips, a satisfied hum escaping her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and using his body as a blanket.
After a bit of coaxing from him, Y/N relented and let him go, so he could make sure she went into the bathroom and peed. He might not have much experience sexually or relationshipwise, but he knew the basics and didn’t want her to get a UTI.
He waited for her by the door, and when she exited, probably having expected him to be in bed, the soft smile on her lips made the butterflies in his stomach roil.
“Hungry?” Carmen allowed himself to touch her, a gentle finger running along her collarbone. “We still have that pizza. It’s probably cold by now though.”
She shrugged. “I’ll never say no to pizza.”
“You did yesterday.”
“Because I’d already eaten!”
Carmen scoffed. “A jar of olives is not a meal!”
***
The next day was Sunday which meant Y/N still had a day off, and Carmen had promised he’d sleep in with her even though he needed to open The Bear. They’d spent the rest of the night talking and kissing and having more mind-blowing sex, only drifting off when the sun began to rise.  But their rest didn’t last long.
She woke with a start, ripping herself away from Carmen’s warm hold, the cold air instantly making goosebumps appear on her skin. He was up in an instant as well, a warm palm settling on her back as Y/N glared through the wall to the front door.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she grumbled rubbing at her eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with people.”
“I’ll get it,” Carmen mumbled, a bit more awake as his natural body clock had already brought him out from the deep slumber. Pressing a kiss against her shoulder, a pleasant shiver ran through her body, as he helped her lay back down beneath the duvet. “Be back in a second.”
Y/N could hear his feet patter against the floor as he went to the small cupboard and fished out some clean underwear.  Call her a perv, but she couldn’t not take a peek and admire Carmen’s ass. A smirk came on her face when she realized she’d left some marks there as well, reddish half-moon imprints of her nails settled deep into the skin. Though it didn’t seem he minded it one bit.
Snuggling deeper into the bed, she closed her eyes and waited for Carmen to come back and join her, though once she heard who was at the door, Y/N knew that wouldn’t happen.
           There was slight murmuring for a couple of moments when a loud cackle interrupted the Sunday morning peace.
“Fucking finally, cousin!” Richie’s voice boomed across the apartment and into the bedroom. “Y/N, I hope he treated you right!”
“He treated me perfectly,” she hollered back, understanding there would be no sleeping in anymore. She grabbed one of Carmen’s shirts, fished out a spare pair of his boxers and entered the living room where she found the two – Richie outside in the hallway with the smuggest grin on his face, Carmen with an adorable flush to his cheeks, as he crossed his arms and looked down at the ground, slightly shuffling.
“And I would like a repeat of it,” Y/N grumbled, “but that won’t happen because if you don’t leave right now, I will spend the rest of my life in prison for murder, and I highly doubt they’d let Carmy come on such visits.”
Richie lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I just came to check on dear cousin here. He's never missed his opening shifts, and his phone was completely off. But now I see he was… preoccupied.”
Y/N groaned looking at the clock. She knew it was early, but not six a.m. early. “Murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal,” she chanted under her breath as she put on a coffee pot to brew. “Why the fuck is murder illegal?”
“Relax,” Richie chuckled. “No need to resort to violence, I’m already leaving. See you at the kitchen? Actually,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at Carmen. “I’d rather not. We’ll take care of it. You two crazy kids enjoy yourselves.”
“Richie, no I’ll be, there in a couple of hours, just let me -,”
“Nope,” he interrupted his cousin. “Syd will be more than happy to take the lead. Especially, after I tell her why our Carmy was late.”
The aforementioned man dragged a hand down his now scarlet face. “Can you just fucking leave then?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Richie retreated, and Carmen had almost closed the door when he called out, “Use protection!” and chucked a handful of condoms through the slit.
A louf “fuck you!” was the response he got, and the door finally closed, though they did hear a muffled “I’d rather you fuck each other!” before footsteps retreated down the staircase.
Y/N huffed, taking two cups and filling them with the now-ready coffee, adding two sugars, milk and a dash of brownie syrup to hers. “How upset would you be exactly if I decided to just lightly maim your cousin?”
“Can I help?” Carmen asked with a raised brow, and that elicited a snort from her as she leaned to rest her back against his chest, while two large arms snaked around her waist, and Carmen placed his chin on her shoulder.
“I like my clothes on you, but I gotta admit,” he shyly murmured. “Kinda liked it when you were without any better.”
Y/N’s eyes glimmered as she looked at him through her lashes over her shoulder. “You have every chance to remedy that. I mean, you do have the day off.”
Carmen leaned in and pressed a hot kiss to the side of her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin making her sigh in pleasure. “I guess I do, huh?”
She felt his body relax against hers, rough fingers skimming her stomach as he swayed them to a song only he heard.
“Come on,” Carmen murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, his own tasting of the coffee he’d drunk. “Let’s get back into bed.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
They spent hours cuddled up, soft voices interrupting the quiet air of the Chicago morning. Soft words turned into soft moans into soft gasps and pleas and, before long, they were naked again, bodies moving in sync as they reached their peaks together.
And again in the shower, where he slipped into her from behind, after Y/N had washed Carmen’s hair with the new shampoo and conditioner she’d gotten him.
And then on the kitchen counter where he let his tongue explore between her thighs once again, as he made them breakfast despite all her protests of it being his day off and how he shouldn’t be anywhere near a stove.
And then on the sofa where she rode him until she couldn't scream and didn't have a voice anymore as some mindless show played on in the background.
By the time evening came around and they plopped hot and sweaty onto Y/N’s bed because Carmen’s sheets still needed to be changed after the previous night’s escapades, they were satiated and happy.
And undoubtedly very much so in love.
Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange
A/N: I am back on my bullshit and I am obsessed with this man!!! Why did I wait so long to watch The Bear!!! UGGGGHHHH!!! He makes me go feral!!!!
P.S. what did you think? I might make more parts with these two :)
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Eleven — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader receives a much-needed pep talk in Velaris and gets thinking. Azriel receives a lecture in Windhaven by a frustrated Rhysand. Reader is surprised by an unexpected visitor to the City of Starlight.
Word count:
Warnings: A little bit of smut, 18+, minors dni.
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Velaris feels like an entire world away from Windhaven.
You’ve been here only once before, when, as mischievous fourteen-year-olds, Rhysand had brought you. The High Lord had been in another court on business, which had seemed like the perfect time for Rhys to show you his other home. Only, his father had returned early, and had thundered — hard enough to shake the mountains — about strangers entering the shielded city without formal invitation. Not you, nor Cassian, nor Azriel, had been back since.
And that lingering encounter was why, when Roza brought you here three days earlier, you’d been nervous about coming face-to-face with the High Lord yet again.
But the handsome, roguish male had merely given you a long, slow perusal, and then smiled a charming smile — about the only thing Rhys seems to have inherited from him — and welcomed you to his home for as long as you do so please.
It’s tranquil, there’s no doubt about that. Light and airy and so beautiful that you can forget, for a time, that there’s a world outside the City of Starlight. You’ve spent the last three days at Roza’s side, exploring the city and helping her run light errands, and attending to her at the end of the day when the pregnancy tires her out.
The High Lord — Finadar, or Fin, as you’ve learned most people call him — does no such thing. He does not visit his pregnant mate after long, tiring days. Does not summon her.
Despite the growing new arrival in her belly, there’s a distinct lack of love between the two of them that surprises you, perhaps more than anything else.
But tonight, with Roza joining him for a public appearance, you’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time in three days. And you’re desperate to do anything to fight them off.
You wander the long, spacious halls of the High Lord’s opulent home, warm, despite the brutal mountain range that stands guard around it. This is a level of luxury you were never built for, and don’t quite know what to do with. You read from Roza’s broad selection of literature, and gorge on sweets in the kitchen, and slide along the polished floors on your socks, because why the fuck not.
It’s better than thinking. Anything is better than thinking.
But as the night wears on and the silence gets too loud, it’s hard to keep deeper thoughts at bay. Your heart aches relentlessly over the broken shards of your loving friendship group that you don’t know how to glue back together. Your mind swoons longingly over old memories, old smiles. You’re a hollow vessel of complications, and regrets, and excruciating love—
“I heard you were here.” A trilling voice echoes from the far end of the hall you’re traversing.
You turn, and you think you might choke out a strangled noise of relief at the sight of shimmering, golden curls and warm, brown eyes, huge like a doe’s.
Mor looks far better than the last time you saw her, that’s for sure. She’s always radiant, no matter what she has going on, but the sun-kissed glimmer has returned to her skin, and the gaunt fragility from her hardships has been snuffed out by delicious, enviable curves.
You’re in front of her in what feels like a few great strides, and she’s cupping your face in her hands and kissing both of your cheeks.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe, realising, in that moment, just how much you have. She doesn’t spend as much time in Windhaven as she used to, and gods, the absence of a sincere female friend is a weighty one.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Concern fills her eyes as she studies you.
“Rhys, Az and Cass aren’t here. It’s just me—”
“I know.” She links her arm through yours. “And let’s be glad of it. I’ve had enough of males to last me a damn eternity.” She’s barely taken a few steps forward before she’s stopping and studying you again. “Roza tells me you’re having a hard time.”
Just like that, you feel yourself begin to crumble. There’s something about the concern of others that utterly obliterates the walls you try to craft around yourself.
And at the first glimpse of tears filling your eyes, Mor is tugging you along again.
“Come.” She says. “I know where the High Lord keeps his stash of booze.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“You don’t ever come to Windhaven anymore. Why is that?”
There’s the slightest tensing in the set of Mor’s shoulders as she returns the stopper to a decanter containing dark amber liquid. She turns, handing you a glass.
“I figured you knew.” She says. “My father is being strict about me not spending time there.”
On some level, you think you did know. It’s not hard to figure it out.
For a time, Mor was a pretty frequent member of your friendship group, visiting as often as she could — until a few years ago, when a fight broke out between Cassian and Rhys, and then Mor just stopped coming around. The matter was swept under the rug and not mentioned again. But with her father being so strict—
“Ah.” You murmur, the pieces clicking into place. “Cass, huh?”
Mor snorts softly. “Yes. Cass.” She shakes her head fondly. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have feelings for him. Not like that. It was just…a choice I made for myself. And I’ve never regretted it, even if my father is determined to make my life hell because of it. But I didn’t come here to talk about me.” Her eyes rake over you. “Tell me everything.”
So, you do. The words come spilling out of you in a flurry of shame and heartache. You tell her every damn detail and spare none. And when you’re finally done, you take a breath and wonder — not for the first time — how the fuck you’ve managed to create this situation for yourself.
Mor frowns at you. “I—” She seems genuinely speechless. “Cauldron, I thought my situation was complicated.”
You shake your head. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Mor.”
“Why haven’t you told Azriel how you feel?”
“I wanted to. Gods, I planned to. But I supposed walking in on him and Kaeda made me realise that there’s no point.”
“First of all, that’s bullshit.” She takes a seat opposite you. “Love is one of very few things that there is always a point to. Your self-loathing my try to convince you otherwise, but it’s always better to be honest and face whatever outcome than suffer in silence and wonder what would have been.”
You open your mouth, but she’s holding up a hand.
“Secondly, I don’t like the sound of this Kaeda one bit. I know almost nothing about Fenlaros, but what I do know is that she must have some sort of backing — not just that of her Camp Lord father — that gives her the ability to flounce in and out of a rival camp at her leisure without a single consequence. And that tells me she’s up to something. And that makes me nervous that it’s Azriel, of all people, that she’s attached herself to. Not that Az isn’t a total catch — of course, he is. But he’s also a very, very rare gift who always has sights set on him. I’d wager that that plays into Kaeda’s interest somewhere.”
You fall still in your seat, staring back at her.
You feel damn stupid for not seeing what she’s laid out before you with such clarity.
“You…don’t believe Kaeda’s interest in Az is genuine?” You ask. “I wondered why she was hanging around Windhaven, but I didn’t think…”
“I think she has ulterior motives.” Mor shrugs. “And if Az is in a blinding haze of lust — or even love — it’s not something he’s going to see for himself. He’ll need proof.”
“How could I possibly give him proof of something I’m not even certain about myself?”
“Perhaps you should play Kaeda at her own game. Do some sniffing around her and see what you find out. You’d only be looking out for Az, after all.”
Would you, though? You can’t deny that your feelings, your jealousy, would play a part. You should want, for Azriel’s sake, Kaeda to be genuine, whether your heart would get broken or not. But what you truly want is to show Az that—
That you’re better for him than she ever would be.
You want nothing more from or for him, than to make him happy.
You drag your lower lip between your teeth in thought. “What if it blew up in my face, though? I could just…end up making Az even more mad at me than he already is.”
“Which brings me to my third point. Why are you allowing Az to act like you’ve done anything wrong?”
“I slept with Cassian…”
“Welcome to the club. Tell me, Y/N. are you tied down to anyone?”
“Well, no—”
“Did you and Az agree to only have sexual relations with each other?”
“No—”
“Have you ever sworn off exploring such things with your other friends?”
“No, Mor.”
“Then Azriel has no right to be freezing you out the way he is. Is it messy? Yes. Have you created some tricky drama for yourself? Also yes. But he’s a damn hypocrite if he’s chastising you in one breath and jumping into bed with Kaeda in another.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Your gaze lowers to the table. “He says he hasn’t done anything with Kaeda, and I don’t think he would lie about that. I think…had I slept with anyone outside of our circle, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. But it being Cassian is just…a bit too close to home for him. Especially given that Az and I were doing things, too.”
The gorgeous blonde rolls her eyes. “So, it’s an ego thing. Give me a break. If he didn’t want you to sleep with anybody else, he should have communicated that. You both should have communicated better.” A soft sigh leaves her. “Listen…Az will sulk for a little while, because that’s just what males do. He clearly has things he needs to work through, and when he has, you should talk. But in the meantime, perhaps you should try to find some more out about Kaeda and her intentions — for no other reason than that Azriel is your closest friend and you’re looking out for him. Perhaps being in Velaris is a blessing in disguise — I’m sure the High Lord could tell you a thing or two about the Fenlaros lot, if you ask nicely.”
So wise, so brilliant, is Mor. A female with such a good head on her shoulders, despite an environment that tries to wreck her.
She just…rationalises things, in a way that you’re not able to. And you hadn’t even considered talking to the High Lord.
You take a slow, pensive draw from your glass as you think on it. And then you’re deciding, “Perhaps I will speak with the High Lord. There’s nothing wrong with showing an interest in a rival camp, after all.”
“No.” Mor flashes a feral grin. “There is not.”
Perhaps it’s selfish, something felt at Azriel’s expense — but setting yourself a little task like this is precisely what you need.
You’ve wondered for a while what the hell Kaeda is doing in Windhaven. You’re determined to find out, one way or another.
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Rhysand is balls deep and utterly lost in the male beneath him.
The noises that fill the room are sinful.
Midnight-kissed moans and panting as breathy and ethereal as a winter-chilled breeze.
This has been a long time coming, and Rhys is just so glad, in that moment, that he finally gets to be inside Zakai, that he thrusts deep and captures him in a full kiss. Zakai growls and grabs his ass, encouraging those thrusts.
Honestly? Rhys fucking needs this pleasure. Never did he think he’d actually be glad to get away to his room at the dormitories, but he needs a godsdamned break. Cassian’s sulking at the cottage has become unbearable since Roza swept Y/N off to Velaris.
If Cass and Az don’t sort their shit out soon, Rhys might just launch them off the peak of the nearest mountain.
Of course, they’d probably fight each other suspended in thin air, instead.
But he banishes those thoughts and gives himself entirely to Zakai, reaching down to fist at the pretty male’s cock. Neither of them will last long. This sex has been too highly anticipated, and it feels too good, and—
And the door is practically kicked in behind them. Azriel strides in as if it’s his fucking room.
“Get out, Az.” Rhys snarls, not faltering.
Az does not, in fact, get out. “Is it true Roza has taken Y/N to Ve—”
“For fuck’s sake.” He pulls out of Zakai with complete reluctance, grabbing clothes to cover them both. Zakai exhales a long sigh and tips his head back.
“Well?” Az demands. “Is it true?”
Rhys yanks some undershorts on. “Three days ago. You’d have found out sooner if you’d just quit your sulking and talk to us.”
“Why has she gone there?”
Zakai clears his throat, awkwardly shucking his clothes on. “Perhaps I should go…”
“No.” Rhys says.
But Az counters it with a dismissive, “Yes.”
The poor male stares between the two of them, and while he may have just been lying beneath the future High Lord, he doesn’t feel like getting in the way of a temperamental shadowsinger.
Rhys releases a yielding breath and grits his teeth. “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later, Zak.”
That’s all it takes for his pretty lover to leave, sex now a distant memory. Azriel shuts the door behind him.
“So?” He rounds on Rhys. “Why is Y/N in Velaris?”
Rhys rolls his eyes at his tone. It’s not exactly any use for Az to be frantic now. Bit too late for that, he thinks.
“Because she needed a break from this place. From you and Cass and Kaeda.”
“I told Y/N that Kaeda and I have not done anything.”
“And maybe you haven’t, Azriel. That’s your business entirely.” He throws himself onto the bed. “But have you stopped for five fucking seconds, amidst your brooding and self-pitying, to consider how it might have made Y/N feel to be the practice run?”
Azriel goes preternaturally still. Doesn’t know what to say.
And that’s fine, Rhys reckons, because he’s nowhere near fucking finished.
“You explored that intimacy with her under the pretence that you were merely refining those skills for another female’s benefit.” He continues. “Whether it was initially Y/N’s idea or not, you should have recognised right away that she deserves better than that. And then you had the absolute fucking audacity to get mad at her for sleeping with Cassian, at the same time she would naturally assume you were sleeping with Kaeda, when you actually have no right to be angry. So what if she slept with Cass? So what, Azriel, that she fell into the arms of somebody who actually made her feel chosen, and not like she was just a stepping stone to a greater pleasure?”
Silence.
Stunned, heavy silence.
This room is far too small for such strong, impassioned words. They hang threateningly in the air, and Azriel feels like he’s watching them fly towards him in slow motion like poison arrows closing in on their target.
And then the shadowsinger croaks, finally, “It’s not—like that. I never wanted it to be like that.”
Rhys shrugs. “I’m not sure you even know what you intended, Az. The whole thing is one big mess. I mean…why haven’t you had sex with Kaeda, if that’s what you were practicing for? Do you even like her?”
Az says nothing.
The lack of an answer is precisely what Rhys is expecting. Even makes his lips kick up into a smile.
He thinks he’s pretty damn wise, does Rhysand.
“I’ll wager,” he goes on, eyeing Az knowingly, “that the practice wasn’t about Kaeda at all. Perhaps it was, the very first time Y/N offered.” He rests his hands behind his head. “But then something happened between the two of you — perhaps a kiss, maybe even some touching, and you were struck down by a realisation that the rest of us saw coming years ago. That what exists between you and Y/N goes beyond friendship. What you have is something special. And getting a little taster of that under the ruse of practice sent you on a downward spiral. So many emotions. So much angst. Suddenly, you were acting irrationally, getting into fights. Not over Kaeda, no, but over Y/N. Seeing her with other males makes you feel sick to your stomach. And that is why you’re so angry with Cassian. Because he had sex with Y/N, and you want her, not Kaeda. You love her.”
Well.
Azriel may as well be standing there stark naked, for all Rhys has stripped him bare.
He feels like his skin has been peeled from his bones and a patchwork of ugly truths lies in its place. He wouldn’t be overly surprised to glance down and see writing covering every inch of his body in bold, alarming ink that reads: I AM IN LOVE WITH Y/N. I AM JEALOUS AND ARROGANT AND SELFISH. I AM SCARED.
He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. It doesn’t budge. “I never meant to make her feel like that.” He damn near wheezes, the words punching their way out of his lungs.
Rhys softens a little. “We know that, Az. But as long as you try to run from your feelings, you’ll be kicking dirt up at the people behind you.”
“I don’t…don’t know what to do — about anything.”
“You just need to stop trying to fool yourself. You need to make use of your space from Y/N and figure out what, exactly, it is you want, and what, exactly, you’re going to do about it. You need to accept that mistakes have been made all round, but not one of them is unable to be fixed. And you should start by mending things with Cassian.”
On instinct, Az scowls. He may know Rhys is right — and damn him for it, too — but he still can’t help being angry at Cass. The thought of his hands on Y/N—
“Wipe that look off your face, Azriel.” Rhys says drily. “You both know you miss each other, and you’re just as miserable as one another because of it. I’m not saying you should fix it today or even tomorrow — take your time to brood, if you like — but something has to give eventually. And if you won’t fix things for your sakes, do it for mine. Perhaps then I’ll be able to fuck Zakai and actually finish.”
This — these glimmers of wisdom and authority and reason — are like a little window into what Rhysand will one day be like as High Lord of the Night Court.
Azriel is glad of his friendship, his counsel. Even if he’s not quite ready to act on the advice yet.
“It’ll all be alright, Az.” Rhys says, studying him. The shadowsinger looks…lost. “But you should take the time to work things out before Y/N returns to Windhaven. She doesn’t need any more drama, and neither do you.”
Right again, of course.
Az can only manage to clear his throat and nod, before rasping out a quiet, “I will. Thank you.”
Rhys dips his chin. “I do love you, you know. I wouldn’t put sex aside for a conversation with just anyone.”
His answering smile is unconvincing. “I love you, too.”
“And you love Cass. So don’t wait too long to talk to him.”
Azriel inclines his chin. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
The shadowsinger shoots him one last look that says far more than he can articulate in that moment. And then he’s slipping out of the room.
And as he walks away, he can’t stop his thoughts from venturing to Fenlaros.
To how lost he would be without Rhys — and Cass, too — if he really did leave them behind.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Roza is so godsdamned beautiful.
You can’t help feeling a little awestruck as you stand behind her, gently combing a brush through her night-black hair.
She stares into the mirror of her dressing table, her face a sheet of serene beauty. Through her nightgown, the swell of her bump shows proudly.
She seems pensive tonight, quieter than usual. Every few seconds, your gaze creeps to her reflection. Curiosity gets the better of you.
“Can I ask you something?” You part the strands of her hair, beginning to tie them into a braid.
Roza’s eyes lift to yours. “Of course, my love.”
It takes you a long moment to work out how, exactly, to diplomatically word what you’re thinking. You imagine it might be a touchy subject.
“…You and the High Lord….” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You’re not…not quite what I expected — together, I mean.”
You’ve never seen a mating bond up close, but you’ve read about them enough to know that they should be intense, passionate, a love that is so altering that it’s almost gut-wrenching. You expected to catch a glimpse of that with Roza and Finadar, to see a bond that you may never have the honour of experiencing yourself, for how rare it supposedly is.
What you didn’t expect was the huge distance that exists between them. Not a single person could miss it.
There’s no desperation to see each other, be in one another’s company. They sleep in their own quarters of the house and only seem to come together for public appearances. The whole thing is…bizarre.
Roza smiles wryly at you in the mirror. “You mean, you didn’t expect the High Lord and I to be as separated as we are?”
“I just figured…with a mating bond…”
“A lot of weight is placed on a mating bond, little dove.” She swivels on the stool to face you properly. “I had the same thought as you, when I was younger. Fin and I tried to love one another, but…the fact of the matter is that mating bonds aren’t always right. He and I are so different, and sometimes that can be a beautiful thing. But in our case, it certainly is not.”
Your eyes fall down to her bump. “But the babe…”
“This babe was conceived on a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive whim that shouldn’t have happened. Not that I regret it.” Her hand strokes over her bump. “But sex and love are two very different things. Fin and I do not love each other. I’m only in Velaris because he only trusts his healer to see me through this pregnancy. We are mates in the loosest definition, but we are not committed to each other. And he has no problem reminding me of that, with all the females he invites to his bed as though I’m not in the same damn house as him. He’s an arrogant, salacious lech — but he’s also the father of my children, and my High Lord, too. So I choose not to confront it, because I don’t care enough to. The babe and I will be back in Windhaven soon enough.”
It makes your heart ache, makes you feel sick, to think that Roza is on the receiving end of such treatment. She deserves better. Deserves the world. Someone who will worship her like the goddess she damn well is.
It terrifies you to think that…that you could just as easily find yourself trapped in such a dire situation.
“What worries you?” Her violet eyes are soft, warm, as she reaches up and presses a hand to your cheek.
You place the hairbrush down, leaning against the dressing table. Your hand finds hers with a sad desperation. “Is love doomed, Roza? Is it real? If a mating bond can’t hold up, what hope do I have—”
“You have all the hope, dove. And as you should. You will love, and you will be loved. You just need to have the courage to face it and all that it comes with. Fin and I are a bad match. But there’s no reason to believe you’ll see the same fate. So just…don’t give up. Be brave and love.”
Tears blur your eyes as you stare down at her. You can’t stop yourself from moving your joined hands, both yours and hers, to rest on her bump. “This babe is the luckiest child in the entire world to have you for their mother.” You whisper. “And I will be honoured, Roza, to help you in any way I can when they’re born.”
She lifts your hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of your palm. “And I will be honoured to have you by my side.” She cracks a smile. “Perhaps you can start with making me some ginger tea before bed.”
A soft, breathy laugh leaves you. “Of course.”
Her beautiful smile follows you out of the room and into the dark, empty hallways. You feel strangely at peace tonight, more so than you have for a long while. Most likely thanks to Mor’s pep talk.
But after you’re done in the kitchen, a steaming cup of ginger tea clutched in your hands, a pair of booming male voices reach you from the antechamber. It piques your interest at once.
One voice is certainly that of the High Lord, but the other sounds somewhat familiar, too — like it’s one you’ve heard before, but not enough to place who it belongs to. It’s a dangerous, gruff baritone of a voice that seems almost impossibly deep.
You should mind your business, walk away…but it seems strange for the High Lord to receive a guest so late at night. Seems…clandestine, in nature.
And so you stay light on your feet, inching towards the door and peering through to the giant, opulent antechamber.
And that’s when you see the High Lord leading Tathaln Baralas, Kaeda’s father, in the direction of his study.
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az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
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eldrid · 1 year
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Kunikida : Have I ever told you that your singing is mesmerising?
Dazai *stops singing* : Aww no, darling!
Kunikida *whispering*: Then why do you keep singing?
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Shinichi: You can't be at risk of heartbreak if you don't have a heart.
Sonoko, impatiently: You'll have to be less passive-aggressive and more direct as to whether or not Shiho going to the bar with her attractive coworker bothered you.
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clairebear08 · 9 months
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Deepest Desires (Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader)
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Summary// After a few too many drinks, you all decide to play a game that could change your friendship
Note: Y'all, this is easily the proudest I've been of something I've written, so I really hope you guys like it!! (and hope this makes up for ignoring the game night requests for bingo <3)
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The fire was slowing, casting a soft glow as it began to die out. It was just the four of you now. Everyone else having slowly slipped off to bed as the night went on. You sat cross-legged on the sofa, your High Lord seated next to you, both of you sipping yet another glass of wine while Cassian wandered off in search of a new bottle. The Shadowsinger was seated across from you, leaning back in one of the many plush armchairs, seemingly at peace, as you all welcomed the buzz from the alcohol after the long week.
You looked up at the sound of Cass making his way back into the room, smirk on his face, and bottle in hand. Rhys was the first to speak, asking the question you were all thinking, “What did you do?”
Cassian’s arm shot out, his hand landing over his heart as he pouted at the male next to you, his dramatics earning a smile from you, “I am offended you think so little of me, brother.” Setting the bottle on the table before you, he threw himself back into his chair, eyes passing around the room, “I was just thinking that we should play a game, make things interesting.”
Sitting up, you reached for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass, doing the same for Rhys when his empty glass shot out in front of you, “Oh? What’d you have in mind?”
His smirk reappeared, “How about truth or drink?”
A small laugh escaped from Azriel, all of you turning to watch him tip his glass back, draining the red liquid before sliding it towards you in a silent request, “That’s not interesting, Cass.”
Shooting his brother a look, Cassian sat up in his seat, “Then what do you suggest we do.”
Your blood heated when his hazel eyes met yours, a mischievous look crossing the Spymasters features, “How about truth or strip?”
Cassian only blinked, looking between Rhys and you. You knew your cheeks were beet red as Rhys spoke softly, “Interesting indeed. I’m in.”
Nodding, Cass spoke up, arching a brow as he threw you a look, “Not what I had in mind, but it’ll work. Y/n, you in?”
Your heart beat thundered in your ears as all three males watched you, awaiting your answer. You couldn’t deny your attraction to the males, finding them undeniably gorgeous in their own ways since the day you met them. This was an opportunity you doubted you’d get again, one that would test the limits of your friendship.
But with the alcohol running through your veins, there was only one right answer, “Yeah, why not?”
Azriel’s smirk had your heart beating impossibly faster, watching you as he sat back, “Rhys, where’s the riskiest place you’ve had sex?”
You all shifted your gazes to the High Lord, waiting to see what he’d do. He looked to Cass, the two of them sharing a knowing look, “One of the booths at Rita’s.”
Cassian let out a booming laugh, seeming to know more about that interaction than the rest of you, “And you weren’t very subtle either.”
Grinning at his brother, Rhys shot his question at the General, “If you could only do one position for the rest of your life, which one would it be?”
You watched with a smile as the warlord through his head back, groaning, “That’s not fair, I can’t pick just one.”
Rhys only sipped his drink in response, “Answer the question or take something off-”
His voice was muffled as Cassian’s shirt collided with his face, earning a laugh from the rest of you.
Cass turned his gaze to you, your body tensing as you awaited his question, “Y/n, have you ever had a sex dream about anyone in this room?”
Your heart was pounding as you thought, deeming it safe to answer, “Yes.”
He sat up straighter, “Who?”
Shaking your head, you took a sip of your wine, “That wasn’t the question, Cass.”
He scoffed as you moved on, meeting Azriel’s gaze, heat pooling in your belly as you prepared yourself to ask him something you’d wondered about since you met him, knowing he and his brothers were close, but always wondering just how close, “Have you ever masturbated to anyone in this room… and who?”
His stare was unwavering as he shrugged, “I’ve thought about Rhys and Cass before, I’ve thought about them solo, them fucking you, I’m not too picky.”
You worked to keep your jaw from dropping at his brutal honesty, not expecting the last part of his statement. You had barely regained your composure when he aimed a question at you, “Who was the sex dream about?”
Swallowing hard, you shook your head. Even with what he’d just said and the lack of judgment that followed, there was no way in hell you were answering that. You weren’t ashamed of the dreams you’d had, the things your unconscious mind had conjured up, but you weren’t ready to admit the blaring truth: you wanted them all. It hadn’t been just one dream. No, it’d been multiple, and they’d all made an appearance at least once, sometimes alone, and other times together. Reaching down, you grasped your sock, preparing to remove your first piece of clothing when you were interrupted, halting at the black tendrils that snaked around your hand.
Azriel’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, momentary disbelief passing through you at his words, “I choose the clothing.”
Your head whipped up, “That wasn’t a part of the rules.”
He shook his head, clicking his tongue, “It is now. Lose the shirt.”
Your eyes flickered between Rhys and Cass, finding only smirks as they waited, unwilling to step in, too invested in the scene unfolding before their eyes.
“Now, y/n.”
His voice jarred you, the impatience in his tone making you sit up, socks forgotten. You knew you were blushing profusely as you gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head before resting it over your stomach. Azriel shook his head, nodding at Rhys seconds before the Lord tore the fabric from your hands, baring your naked torso to them. You didn’t miss the musky scent that filtered into the air, three different types, as you sat, lacy bra the only thing still providing you coverage.
Sipping your drink, you looked to the male who stole your shirt, “Loud or quiet?”
He understood your question, “Darling, I want the stars themselves to hear just how well I can pleasure my partner.”
Heat pooled in your belly as he asked Azriel, “What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened during sex?”
Surprised, you watched the pink that tinted the Shadowsingers cheeks as he shook his head slightly. Rhys only grinned in response, gesturing to his shirt. Your blood heated as he removed the fabric, unable to stop the way your eyes roved over his bare chest, his chiseled body flexing under your gaze. You moved your head slightly, needing to stop your gawking only to be met with Cassian’s shirtless form. You’d forgotten the male also lacked a t-shirt as your eyes followed the groves of his abs, images of them flexing above you as he came flashing in your mind. Any hope you’d had of concealing just how turned on you were by this whole situation went to shit as your core throbbed. Tilting his body towards you for a better view, Cass let out a small laugh, scenting your arousal almost immediately.
Azriel’s voice pierced through your trance, pulling you from your thoughts, “Cass, have you ever been caught in action, and by who?”
His gaze never left yours, even as he answered his brother, “Only ever once by some poor water nymph in the bathroom at Rita’s.”
Rhys chuckled lightly beside you as the warlord fired a question at you, “What’s your secret fantasy?”
You sighed, shaking your head at the male and earning a feral grin in response. That was something you definitely were not telling them, even as the warlord requested the removal of your pants. You did as you were told, body thrumming with need as you felt their gazes tracking your movements as you slid the fabric down your legs, removing everything aside from your undergarments. You’d never been more grateful for Mor’s spending habits, the lacy set you’d dawned for the evening being one of many she’d gifted to you over the years. You opened your mouth, preparing a question when you were interrupted.
“Have you ever given a lap dance?” Cassian asked, his arms thrown over the back of the couch as all three of them watched you.
You shivered, knowing you were down to the bare minimum while they were still frustratedly almost fully clothed.
“No, I haven’t.” You blushed, tearing your eyes away from his gaze to stare at the floor. “I think it’s Rhys’s-”
“Would you like to learn?” Azriel asked, his voice husky as your head shot up in surprise.
“Right now?” You asked, your finger going between them and you as if they had lost their marbles. “To who?”
They shared a look, a private conversation being held between the three of them before Cassian patted his lap.
“Come here, princess.” He smirked, his cock already half hard as you shyly rose to clamber onto him. It was a bit awkward and you were about to just cut your losses and run until you felt warm hands come up behind you and a soft breath on your neck.
“For support.” Rhys murmured into your ear, helping you scoot forward until your crotch was over Cassian’s. “Show us what you can do darling. We’re all *very* anxious to see.”
You sucked in a breath, feeling Cassian grow beneath you as you began moving, hips rolling and providing the friction you’d desired since the game began. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as Rhys hands tighten on your hips, guiding you as you worked, Cassian’s hands coming to rest on your thighs.
You tilted your head to the side, allowing your High Lord access to your neck as you brought your hands up, resting them on the warlord’s shoulders. Heat bloomed along your skin as Rhys nipped and kissed at your skin, your nipples hardening at the sensation as you slowed the roll of your hips, dragging your throbbing core along Cassian’s cock, body aching for them as you watched his head tilt back as he released a groan.
“You’re doing so good, y/n.” Rhys paused, tilting your head to face his as you met his eyes, “But how about we lose this?”
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your bra. Your eyes never strayed from his as you nodded, sucking in a breath as he released the clasp, fingers dragging up your body before slowly sliding the fabric off you. His eyes darkened as he took you in, watching the way your body moved against his brother. Returning to your back, he placed his hands back on your hips, continuing to guide you. Twisting back, you were met with Cassian who was still taking in your bare form, his grip on your thighs tightening as he began to move slightly beneath you, rolling his own hips to meet yours, increasing your pleasure.
Your skin pebbled as black tendrils appeared in front of you, gliding up your torso at an agonizing pace before beginning to toy with your breasts. The three of you shifted your gaze to find Azriel still sat back in his chair, hands gripping the arms as his knuckles went white, eyes black with lust as he watched. Your eyes darted down, taking in the impressive bulge, begging to be released from the confines of his pants. Seeing where your gaze traveled, Rhys pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel what you couldn’t see.
Cassian’s voice was strained as he too saw what you saw, knowing just how hard Rhys was behind you, “See what you do to us, princess?”
You nodded, leaning forward as you continued to move against him. A cool sensation brushed against your clit, the same sensation that was still working your breasts. Your eyes flashed as you turned to look at the Spymaster who was responsible, his shadows rubbing your clit and eliciting sweet moans from your mouth. It was too much, the feeling of Cass beneath you, Rhys at your back with his hands still moving you, and Az sitting, watching the three of you together while he sent his own form of pleasure to assist you.
You felt your orgasm building, core clenching around nothing as tremors racked your body before your body went limp, the most sinful sound falling from your lips as all three males continued to work you. As you came down, you let yourself fall back against Rhys, who whispered praises in your ear.
You met Cassian’s gaze, answering his earlier question, “That. That was my fantasy.”
He laughed, his smirk one of purely male pride even as Azriel was the one to answer, “Well then, it’s a good thing this night is far from over.”
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