There is an unhealthy lack of Shamir smut; that needs to be rectified!

Story got removed before because it had "Fuck" in title despite other stories having it in abundance, so I changed it to "Do" because why not. It's back up, so whatever I guess. Still up on AO3.


Within the stall of the restroom, Shamir's buxom figure flush against Byleth and seeking mouth rebounding off his, her hand stroked the bulge that rubbed her thigh. He had his perverted grasp on her ass, listening to the usual stoic voice of his favorite sniper change to something far lighter, fueled by emotion.

Escorting the students of Garreg Mach Monastery for a fun day in the sun sounded uneventful to Byleth. Two hours ago they arrived at the beach. All the students ran into the glimmering blue sea once they laid eyes on it like a herd, leaving the teachers to sort through the belongings they left behind and set up. Students split up into their established cliques, engaging in various games on the beach with a few exceptions taking the time to tan. Byleth, being the new popular teacher at the academy, had been pulled off his lounging chair more times than he cared to count.

"Must be tough being so popular." The detached voice of Shamir opened his heavy eyes.

"S-Shamir." His voice hitched. Byleth had unconsciously disregarded the countless swimsuits chosen by the students and teachers. Maybe the heat was to blame, but the allure a smorgasbord of women prancing around the beach in swimsuits would typically have had was nowhere to be found. Seeing the beauty of Shamir in a two-piece dark green swimsuit, her sizable bust contained in the cups of her bikini top, all her curves on full display for him, formed a lump in his throat the longer he stared and a bigger one between his legs.

"Is everything okay, Professor?"

"Y-yes. Excuse me, I was lost in thought." Byleth assumed Shamir had not noticed the lecherous intent in his eyes. Lost in thought he might had been, the focus of those musings and direction they veered could very much not be equated to a simple moment of idle contemplation.

A foolish misinterpretation of the situation, especially considering the person he was referring to.

It was Shamir's job to be observant, stick behind the lines, and take out anyone who got too close or attempted to break through the vanguard. On and off the job, Shamir remained vigilant. Byleth did a poor job tucking his erection in a discrete manner, to a point where Shamir felt awkward watching him try and divert her attention with idle conversation about the students. And it wasn't like seeing he found her attractive disgusted her – quite the contrary – or the prurient gaze of another man had been foreign to her. Someone strut up to her every now and again to buy her a drink, be it at Garreg Mach or twenty minutes ago from a face she couldn't remember even if she cared to try. Fact of the matter was: she was keenly aware.

Admittedly Shamir thought leading him into the restroom, not bothering to hide quite the suggestive smile, would alert him of her intentions before she pushed him against the wall. For a second it worried her that perhaps she had come on a little too strong. Sure she picked up on his subtle-as-a-brick interest in her, the erection that buried itself in her stomach aside, but that didn't mean Byleth would automatically respond with the same sexual enthusiasm she harbored for him. It also took Shamir by surprise how aggressive she moved, realizing how pent-up she was from days upon days of work.

Good thing Byleth was too.

His breathing became heavy as his hands circled her waist. Shamir's roamed up the firm muscle on his chest in response, locking eyes with the new lustful gaze the professor held. And a moment later, their mouths were upon each other's.

She barely lifted her lips off before slanting hers over Byleth's harder. Shamir's tongue curled against the bottom of his lip for passage; he opened up, letting out a muffled grunt at the way she hungrily swirled within his mouth. Byleth couldn't get enough of the flavourful fruity drink on her lips and twined his tongue with hers, feeding off the saccharine sweetness. A long, drugging kiss that its heightening intensity made them both a little lightheaded.

The soft swell of her breasts was the next target for Byleth's hands, kneading the voluptuous pair held by dark green cups. He felt her nipples push and strain against the fabric, begging for freedom and his touch. Thumbing them, hearing her squeal in response and grind against his thigh, his dick thrummed in desire of the same liberation her nipples cried out for.

Their mutual need for air ended the eternity-long kiss. Shamir didn't spend much time regaining her breath, guiding one of the professor's hands from her breasts southward between her legs. Damp, the fabric had been soaked through. Byleth absentmindedly stroked her; her thighs kept shifting against each other, growing hotter as the professor's mind caught up with his body. Shamir gripped his shoulders as the calloused fingers of her colleague finally moved her bikini bottom aside and sheathed all the way to the knuckle.

Her whole body tensed; she closed her eyes and moaned unashamedly. Not that Byleth spent much time imagining a situation like this, he expected Shamir to be a lot more composed during sex. Shamir envisioned the professor to be a lot more reserved as well. Always stoic, emotions second in anything and everything they did, hearing loud moans rip from their chests was a welcome subversion of expectations.

He pulled his fingers out, spreading slick onto her nub and around her labia, the sensation taking her somewhere else. Byleth repeated the process, dipping deep into her wet heat, slipping out to rub faster, and her thighs tighten more. Byleth coaxed wonderful gasps and slick from the archer, her hips bucking into him. Before anyone walked in, curious of the unashamed noises that ricocheted in the bathroom, Byleth clasped her lips with his. Shamir untied his trunks and pushed on them, needing them off. The moment he stepped out of them, sighing as his cock could finally breathe, she positioned him between her legs. It was an impressive size, thrilled to see and feel her and ready to come inside her. She caught glimpses of it while he attempted to hide his arousal, which inadvertently sparked her own.

He removed his fingers from her pussy but remained on her mound, circling Shamir's clit while she slid her sensitive pink lips along his veiny girth. Her arms coiled around Byleth's neck, coordinating a methodical, composed rhythm in contrast to the unabashed kissing and touching of five seconds ago.

"I didn't think this would happen today."

"Well I think I want you to fuck me."

There was her usual bluntness. A grin on her face, beautiful violet eyes trained on him as if he were a target (which he was) and voice laced in desire, his cock stirred at her directness.

"Was this your plan for today?" Byleth's hands found her waist, moving in time with Shamir.

"Not exactly." She had no agenda today. All Shamir had been tasked to do was supervise the students, make sure they got to the beach, had fun, and came back safe and sound. A simple mission that got slightly complicated watching a certain chiseled professor get dragged up and down the beach. "Improvised."

"An improvised plan always beat a calculated one."

Shamir chuckled. How could he say such an out-of-character line with a straight face? "Is that right? No arguments here." Byleth moved in for another kiss when she placed a delicate finger on his lips. "There's somewhere else I want your mouth to attend to."

Byleth smirked, and it remained on his lips as the professor slowly shimmied down onto his knees, ghosting his fingers along her skin. Shamir widened her stance to give him the room he required to work, rewarded with a thick, wet tongue methodically lapping her pussy. She all but cried out when his mouth attached itself to her clit with a damning suction. Her hand pushed Byleth's head into her and the pressure increased, his tongue maneuvering in a figure-eight and drawing on those guttural noises from the depths of her throat. Hearing him slurp and suck, listening to his heavy breaths and moans, she felt the build-up of her climax but it never came. Byleth did just enough to approach her climax but also shrewdly elude the illustrious high. His tongue retracted and he raised his head, his mouth glistened with her arousal.

Shamir tapped him up, then gave Byleth a light push as he stumbled back onto the toilet. She hooked her thumbs into her bikini bottoms and shoved them down her legs with an oath. Stepping out of them, Shamir untied her top, almost yanking it off, and let it drop to the floor on its own. Naked before Byleth now, the archer dropped to her knees, one hand on caressing his thigh while the other pumped determinedly. Recklessly Shamir swooped down and swallowed him whole, pushing his head into her throat as Byleth sobbed a pathetic noise that stirred her primal side. He reached down to grab her bobbing head, moaning filthy phrases while jutting his hips in equal fervor.

It was a messy affair: spittle traveled down his balls, her head rushing toward his base over and over as his strong arousal coating her tongue in its bitterness. She felt all the frustration bottled up inside her leave her in small increments each time she shoved her head forward. Shamir's jaw started to ache but that would not stop her, lost in hedonism. A particularly loud shout pierced the obscene noises that deafened Shamir and in came a rush of semen. She maintained her momentum in spite of the force, shutting her eyes to remain focused and swallow all of what Byleth dispensed down her throat. She felt his hand fall off her head, boneless on the toilet seat.

"Gods..." Byleth heaved.

Shamir cleaned him up before pulling back, admiring how hard he was even after that load. She climbed up and straddled his lap. A low raspy sound came from the professor, feeling her sopping pussy push up and grind against his sensitive dick. He looked down, watching her slickness lather him in her arousal. Byleth grabbed her ass for purchase, entranced with the firm yet supple flesh it seized. Shamir dictated the pace they would maintain, picking his head up so that he could look into her eyes. One of her old mercenary buddies who slept around much more than she did said something interesting one day. She told Shamir that if she could fuck her lay with her eyes, that would be the best sex of her life. Back around that campfire, Shamir stared at her laughing comrade as if she were nuts, but now she understood exactly where she came from.

"I have to apologize," she panted.

Through strained breaths, he asked, "For what?"

"I don't do this often." A sharp moan interrupted her as Byleth jutted up. "It's been a good while since the last time."

Byleth found it weird, though strangely cute, how now, of all times, after taking such command over his dick like she did, Shamir wanted to act all bashful. "Then this will make up for lost time." His teeth clenched tighter, the grip on her bum grew firmer and bolder. Shamir knew there would be a mark left if she checked. While that raised a rather concerning issue if they went back outside, envisioning the massive hand marks marring her skin thrilled her more than worried her. Byleth wanted to be inside her– desperate to feel his dick submerged in her slick heat, his face twisted and beyond the word desperate. So once Shamir finally sheathed him into her pussy, a muffled cry breezing past her lips, Byleth thrust up to aid in the impalement and his entire world spun, flipped upside-down, and crashed.

Groaning loudly, she remained steady and savored the way he filled her. So elongated the archer felt him poke her barrier, stretching her in a manner that made her eyes momentarily roll into the back of her head. Shamir knew his girth would reach far but she never expected it to go that far.

She began with slow swirls of her hips and Byleth had a dead man's grip on her with no intention of releasing her. His hands were like bear traps digging into her skin, the poor professor only able to offer a choked noise here and there. Shamir gripped his shoulders as moderate swirling turned brisk. She gradually made her way up, getting closer to his head each time she lifted herself up. The toilet seat rattled under them, growing louder as Shamir grew harsher. His brawny arms flew around her like iron chains as Byleth shoved his face into her breasts. Her back arched upon the capture of a pink nipple, the teat laid seige by unforgiving teeth and a hungry tongue. No quarter was given to the delicious pair that taunted him, begging to be suckled, squeezed, and relieved of their ache.

"D-damn…!" Shamir could only strain out a curse, pushing his head further into her breasts. Each lick received a guttural curse of some kind, her pulsating, contracting wall around his erection as if rewarding Byleth for his continued effort to appease her nipples.

"Gorgeous," he panted, the wisp of his warm breath on her hardened nipples making her hiss. "You're beautiful, Shamir."

A hard blush painted her cheeks, the compliment filled with such passion and sincerity. She felt dazed; it got to a point where Shamir didn't even realize her hips stopped moving. Her fingers laced in Byleth's lovely green hair, sparks of arousal zipping through her body while the professor dutifully sucked on her pebbled tips. Every thrust brought a new cry or gasp from her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Can you move anymore?" Byleth lifted his head, staring into her teary violet eyes.

"No," Shamir answered, clearly a tad embarrassed. She yelped when he stood, holding onto him tight so she wouldn't fall. Byleth swapped places with her, planting the archer on the toilet seat and repositioning himself between her legs. Having her legs up in the air on a toilet, ready to be fucked, caused her heart to race even faster.

"All set?" He asked, brushing away a few loose strands of hair from her face.

"I'm fine." Unlike how Shamir eased into a brisker rhythm, Byleth applied a far greater amount of force in his starting ruts the moment she nodded permission, desperate for release. Shamir grasped the back of the toilet, bucking and colliding with Byleth in an impassioned cadence. With every withdrawal Shamir heaved beneath him, her successive moans coming in louder, higher pitches that almost sounded unbecoming of her. Though the position she maintained was a bit awkward, her body rose and pushed as Byleth drove his cock to its hilt at a maddening pace.

Byleth attacked her neck with a flurry of open-mouthed kisses, leaving bite marks along her pristine skin. Growing a little too eager, his dick slipped out, gliding along her folds and grazing her clit several times. Desperately Byleth attempted to sheathe back into her hot passage, missing her entrance and tracing her slick pussy. Taking his prick in a vice grip, forcibly stopping his hips, audibly grunting, Shamir angled him at her entrance and cooed as his thickness stuffed her with his following thrust.

"Yes." She meant to scream but it only came out as a whisper as Byleth fucked her hard and fast and right. Shamir's arms and legs encircled him, her moans flowing just as much as the arousal trickling down her legs. Deep grunts from the professor were the only thing Shamir could hear anymore, and a particularly strong one spelled the end of their tryst. He could no longer resist the increasing passion, her sighs and beautiful sweaty body wiggling against him. Byleth chose the moment of his pinnacle to push his weight down on her, hold her tight against him and pillow her breasts against his chest, feeling her body shudder like his did.

Shamir made every effort to tighten her core and sighed at the sensation of his seed spilling into her, feeling the searing spunk gush into her depths. She closed her eyes, his weak final few thrusts getting soundless corresponding gasps as his replies. The sensual waves of her finish continued to assault her even after the last shot of semen had been dispensed; it peaked and crashed with an otherworldly ferocity that made her cry out and sink her teeth into his shoulder like some uncivilized brute. Byleth's grip went limp, much like his dick. Shamir cooed as he departed, still feeling a phantom of him inside of her momentarily.

Labored breaths brushed against her shoulder as Byleth backed away. Opening her eyes, Shamir took in her profusely sweating partner whose hair had become quite disheveled mostly in part by her constant pulling. Her eyes dropped where his fixated on: between her legs, the semen Byleth deposited leaked out and onto the toilet seat. It surprised her just how much continued to stream down. A sticky gossamer connected his flaccid head with her pussy and snapped once Byleth took a second step back.

Shamir sat up and parted her snatch with two fingers, watching as more of his seed flowed out. Ripping a few pieces of toilet paper, Shamir dabbed away at the flow, hissing at the sensitivity. She hadn't had sex in a while, and sex like that, longer still.

"I suppose there was no issue…?"

Shamir almost laughed. "You came inside me already. A lot. Not the time to be certain if it's alright. Besides, I think I made it clear enough it wasn't a problem."

"Right, right." Embarrassingly enough, he just didn't know what to say. It had been several moons since he had a lay, and it was never with anyone from his own mercenary corps.

"Don't worry about things changing between us." Shamir understood his mercenary mentality. In her corps, they had a fairly strict policy about relationships among teammates. While it wasn't some written law, everyone had come to a collective understanding that drama was unneeded and would cause unnecessary dysfunction. Likely his corps shared similar principles.

"Things will be completely normalized?"

Subtle. As. A. Brick. Shamir stood with a knowing smile, thumbing his cheek. "If you want changes, we can make necessary arrangements."

Byleth's lips split into a suggestive grin that made her smile, his hands running up her waist accelerating her heartbeat. "Such as closer housing?"

Shamir chewed that over momentarily. She expected him to say something completely unreasonable like a shared living space, but concocting some reason why they needed to be closer should not be an issue. They were on the same team after all. "Maybe. Only Rhea can decide tha–"

"Shamir? You in here?" The bathroom door swung open, and the booming voice of Catherine resounded mirthfully. Shamir didn't even get a chance to reply before their stall opened up. "Lady Rhea has… been… huh."

But first, Catherine.


And that's all folks!