#Pulsating Flow

[2cupids]

fwb!bakugo is the only guy that’s made you cum from penetration alone. mdni (17+).

one minute some broken sentence is leaving your mouth about how he’s too deep, and the next you’re seeing colors as your pussy squeezes tightly around him.

katsuki slows down, hand still pressed against your lower tummy to feel the outline of his cock, as he watches you with a crooked grin. his already inflated ego growing bigger.

nearly a minute has passed and your walls are still pulsating with satisfaction around his thick dick. he almost grunts, but he quickly covers it by grumbling about how it’ll take more than that to make him cum this quick.

the after shocks of your orgasm are still flowing deeply through your body and katsuki never stops fucking you through it, not even once. crimson eyes stay glued to the blissful expression on your face, waiting for the moment he can resume his bruising rhythm again.

the second you give him the go ahead, his hips are bucking into yours—just like before—propelling your body forward on the bed.

“what were you bitchin’ about again?” he chuckles. his curved dick and brushes over your gspot again and draws another moan from you.

“doesn’t matter. if i hear you open that pretty mouth again and you’re not telling me how much you love this dick?” he growls. “i’ll fuck that attitude outta you. have you beggin’ me to stop ‘cause this pussy can’t handle it.”

your blood runs even hotter than before with increased arousal from his words. a warm hand glides up your body, grazing your breast in the process before he takes your chin between his fingers.

“that’s a promise.”

[screampied]

‘ V!RGIN KILLA! 𝜗𝜚

𓉸ྀི sum. not only does he think he knows what he’s doing, he’s also a virgin. but there’s a first time for everything . . . right? choso, nanami, gojo, geto, ino, toji.

warnings. fem! reader, vīrgin men, unprotected, vīrginity loss, whiny needy men, some college themes, fratboy! toji, pússydrunk men, cōckwarming, cérvix kissin', cunnīlingus, dry humping, finishing quick, spıt, squīrting, bréeding, petnames, sukuna's part didn't save but i'll make it up </3

★ NANAMI KENTO aka the quick learner virgin?!

nanami drools the minute his tip disappears inside of your cunt. he can’t help it - at all.

the balmy warmth you provide him while you’re straddling his waist, basically cockwarming him sends him shivers. “god, ‘s good,” he groans, tugging at the bottom edge of his spot-patterned tie. nanami could feel the raised pointed tips of his ears burning as his eyes slowly flicker down toward your sopping wet pussy. oh, how it’s just profusely leaking with so much strings of your pretty slick. messily, it glosses a shine between your legs, gleaming with thick molasses—almost similar to a stream, and yet this stream was instead flowing down between your legs. “mmh.. ride me, s- show me how to feel good, my love.”

“hey. eyes on me, ‘ken,” you whisper, your fragile breaths growing shallow the moment he’s tightly snug balls deep in. with a ringing loud ‘pop!’ you feel him greedily ease his way past the slight loose ring of your entrance and you moan. he’s in so deep, and you can’t help but shimmy your hips against his lap. nanami told you how he had little to no experience—and yet, he wanted to try this out with you. having you ride him until he couldn’t think straight. whenever you ran your hands down his carved tone body, a roaring fire would ignite within him. your touch alone sent him chills and he only craved it more. tender fawn-colored eyes that almost resemble honey meet your gaze, and he leans into your touch the moment you cup your hands on his cheeks. slowly, you’re lustfully swaying against his lap back and forth and he groans. “that’s it, you’re doin’ good, kento. hold my hips.”

“like . . this?” he hoarsely asks, and hefty hands suddenly cling onto your waist. you moan, nodding as he gently holds them in place, trying to guide your movements. his cock stretched you out in each ‘n every way, curiously exploring through the gummy walls of every slick orifice. nanami’s starting to sweat already—and you smile, watching as he sneaks a fat thumb down between your pried open legs. “mngh. . you’re soakin’ all on me. is that normal?” he breathes, and you can see a bit of drool starting to seep down the cracked corners of his lips.

soaking, he could hear the sloppy sounds of your cunt slamming back against his tense thighs and it makes him throb. in zealous sync, you end up throbbing too, and he feels said throb right against the the narrow tip of his cock. “ah, y- yeah, ‘s normal, kento,” you inhale sharply, wrapping your arms around him. callused fingertips his drag a straight line down your skin as he starts to rock you faster into his needy pelvis.

the stretch makes you whimper - his dick’s so fat, and your pussy swallows all numerous inches every time. over ‘n over, your ass violently hits back against his lap as you continue to ride him, amorously tossing your swerving hips in a circle. you could see the blond’s eyes starting to grow hooded, and he’s never looked so in love. your cunt had him hungry for more. “like that, baby?”

“mhm, i like a-anything you do to me, sweetheart,” nanami hoarsely coos, pulling up the back of your hand for a loving kiss. you’re riding him well—watching as he slowly cocks his head back, exposing the oval-shaped adam’s apple in his throat. it’s a simple yet sexy detail that makes you pulsate nevertheless, and nanami groans. “f- fuck, i need you. i need more, ‘m not gonna last, honey if you hah.. keep ridin’ me like that.”

and within a few hasty strokes, nanami starts to get the hang of your rhythm. by the hang, he’s starting to fuck you against his cock now. vast, open hands of his cling onto your waist tight before he’s occasionally spanking your ass. “ngh, good girl. that’s my girl, ugh,” and as you’re whining, nanami pulls you into his neck. the pearly silver band of his flashy watch tickles down your back as he grabs at a nice chunk of your ass, spanking it. “r- ride it like it’s yours, sweetheart. ride it like i’m yours.”

he’s whispering filthy nothing in your ears—trying to drown out your cute sobbing whimpers and your even louder pussy. nanami’s cock was deranged - it was reaching through every sensitive spot of yours, wasting no time to introduce itself near the gummy ridges.

“fuck, fuck!” you’d squeal out, gasping once the swollen head of his cock tickles its way near your hidden g-spot. oh, that spot. you couldn’t help but get sheepish, a cock drunk smile twisting against your lips. he’s so snug, rearranging your insides while continuing to spank your ass. it’s almost as if he knew what he was doing, and nanami knew how to tame your aching cunt with just a few sloppy strokes. “ken, ‘m close. fuckin’ close.”

“i know, i know. give it t’ me,” he whispers, his voice pitching deeper ‘n deeper after each sloppy thrust. nanami’s pumping you full, swallowing thickly to ease the inside of his mouth that’s parched, akin to the sahara. nanami groans, gingerly making you slam your hips against him harder. “fuck, work those hips sweetheart. show me how messy my pretty girl can be, h- huh?”

you’re whimpering constantly, sounding like nothing more than a broken record as you’re gradually being led to your release. it’s a candied sweet taste in your mouth that never goes away, and once you finally came—you were hysterical.

nanami huffs heavily, holding you tight as your hips come to a sudden devastating stop. he’s still buried thick inches deep before he groans, caressing a palm against your tender rear. “hah, that’s m- my girl,” he coos, feeling you drench a portion of his cock with your slimy slick. it’s warm, and you’re still whining incoherent blurbs as you bury your face into his neck. “whew, we’ll have ‘ta try that again,” and once he plants a wet kiss near your temple, he strokes your chin with a thumb. “but another position though. if that’s alright.”

“w- what position?” you tiredly pant, bringing a hand toward your sticky-coated back.

nanami gives your ass its final playful spank before whispering lowly against your lips. “ever heard of doggy, my love?”

#GETO SUGURU aka the nasty virgin?!

geto’s a filthy nasty virgin, unashamed. insisting how he’s never experienced something like this before, smugly stating how he ‘did his research.’

“lie back, sweetheart,” geto huffed, flipping you right back over on your back. he’d just got done with fucking you round after round for the first time, and it seemed like the word ‘stamina’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary. one second inside and he already wanted more—he was greedy, and it was never enough. as you’re struggling to catch your breath that drags out of your full puffed lungs, you stare up at geto. right away, his dark eyes dart between your legs and the dripping dewy mess that streams between your puffed cunt. “what a pretty sight, look at thaaaat,” and geto inches his face between your thighs, staring at frosty-white wads of cum that pour straight out of your full swollen folds.

so much. . you were practically overflowing with ribbons of sticky hot cum ‘n many more strings of it before he sticks out his tongue. “hah, least i can do is clean my girl, hm?” and you whimper, feeling him spread your legs apart with two hands. “kinda saw this in a video once.”

“s- sugu!” you gasp, your words leisurely turning into moans the second he dives straight into your pussy - nose first.

right as the tip of his tongue creates a frenzied slurping trail that soaks straight your cunt, he gives you the most feral look. his pretty black lashes briefly flap shut as he’s devouring you wholly, jerking his head from side to side. choked, gargled moans continue to steal out from your strained vocal cords as a hand of yours fishes through his matted tresses. “fuck, f- fuck like that, clean it up, baby.”

“mhm,” he smears his entire chin against your cunt, feeling it get doused with your sweet slick almost right away. he’s nasty, lapping up his bittersweet cum that spills out from between your folds like it’s nothing. geto barely even bats an eye, and that’s when he groans the second you feel a bit of weight dip against the mattress. he’s now humping against the edge of the bed, rocking his slim hips over ‘n over. “goddamn, ‘m so horny still, sweetheart. ‘y have no idea,” he whimpers shakily, and he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head as a few thin strands of hair gets in the way of his view. “h- hey, be a doll ‘n tie my hair back for me, yeah?”

as you’re chasing your quick-steady breaths, you grab his ponytail holder from his wrist, neatly putting his raven locks into a messy bun. “good girl, take such good care of m—mmph.”

geto lowly chuckles against your pussy once you give him a soft push that makes his nose brush up against your clit. your folds were so cute ‘n runny, filthily oozing with velvety remnants of his warm, pasty cum. “mhh, suguru,” you’d whine, feeling your back continuously arch against the stained white sheets. geto’s got a few loose strands that continue to run down his face, past his brows—making him appear to be even more handsome whilst between your legs. each thoroughly slurp gets louder, and that’s when he starts to loll his tongue out inside of you.

one thing about suguru geto was that he had a long fuckin’ tongue..

it extends fully, and you give his hair a rough tug once the tip of his tongue playfully slithers its way near your twitching sensitive nub. at that moment, you feel a rapid chill race through you and you let off the most shrilling whimper. “ah! suguru, fuck, ‘m sensitive there, don’t s- stop,” and as you’re babbling from his lengthy tongue, he starts to purse his lips. they curl up, puckering fully before he’s drinking everything out of you.

it’s a long carnal suck that makes your eyes cross and you feel like your life’s flashing before your eyes. splotches of white were all that clouded your vision as your thighs shake—nearly suffocating him with your plush, warm legs. “o- oh, fuck,” you’d mewl, and you knew that incoming pressure from anywhere.

you were close.

geto grunts, savoring your taste entirely. you’re just so sweet that your flavor melts on his tongue and he’s teasingly thrusting his tongue in and out of your sobbing folds. seconds later, that’s when you shriek. “c’monnn, give it to me,” and he even brings a hand between your thighs, spanking your precious cunt. “make a mess on my tongue, wanna see what it’s like,” he groans, his rocking against the edge of the bed intensifying. geto’s famished for more, and his bare cock twitches against the rocky mattress frame as you’re squirming on his tongue. by now, he’s licked you clean, and in return, he’s left with a locked jaw and glimmering wet chin. geto eyes you intently, giving your pussy its final sloppy spank before whispering against your folds. “let go for me, baby.”

as if on cue, you gush out loudly, feeling every muscle within you snap ‘n stretch outward. it was as if a crushing weight was lifted from your shoulders—but in this case, your shoulders were your tummy. “fuuuck!” you whimper out, squeezing your eyes shut as your legs give out.

geto’s mouth was still glued to your sticky slippery cunt as his tongue’s slowed its licks down. you tasted even sweeter, and he’s slurping you right up - softly moaning against your cunt as he reaches to touch himself. geto’s tongue’s constant movements scratch such an itch in your brain, making you let off a cute gasp. “ughh, s- suguru,” you whimper, feeling your thighs still shiver.

your tummy heaves in and out repeatedly, and you glance down at geto who’s got the sleaziest grin. “t- thought you said you didn’t know what you were . . hah, doing.”

“oh, baby i don’t,” geto rasps, sitting up from between your legs. he closes the distance between you both, pressing a steamy hot kiss against your quivering plump lips. you moan, getting a brief taste of yourself on his hot tongue before he playfully bites near your bottom lip. “my research helped me a lot,” and you moan the second you feel him give your sloppy cunt a big squeeze with his palm. “but . . i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. think we’ll have to do that again,” geto licks underneath your chin. “y’know, for research purposes.”

#GOJO SATORU aka the loser virgin?!

“yeah, yeah,” satoru would stubbornly grumble, cutting you off mid-sentence and rolling his eyes. his leaky tip remains idle, aligning itself against your soddened entrance before he puffs. phew, you were so pretty up close—especially down there. satoru couldn’t help but stare, openly admiring just how slick ‘n soaked you were.

just weeping from both off folds, the entirety of your entrance being coated in nothing but perspiring wetness. satoru swears on his life he knows what he’s doing, but the second the globed head of his cock smears a line down the wet slope of your cunt - he folds.

with a shaky, needy breath, he whines. “god, why are you so fuckin’ wet, baby. ‘s this supposed to happen?”

“yes, ‘toru,” you reassure him, sprawling your legs out a bit more. satoru’s panting, watching as you bring two sets of fingers toward your pretty pussy. with a slightly wide ‘v’ shape, you’re spreading yourself apart and he’s gawking straight between your legs. fuck, you were so soaked that you were starting to drip near the inner crevices of your thighs. you were playing with yourself earlier before he told you how he wanted to try going inside for the first time. but now that he’s up close—satoru can’t help but be a bit flustered. “c’mere, don’t be shy,” and you nearly moan, trailing the print of your thumb down your syrupy-coated slit. “she doesn’t bite.”

satoru scoffs, but he inches closer. so wet, his cock that was being fisted in the palm of his hand was throbbing hard. pulse after fucking pulse, a lightning-shaped vein races down the center of his hand before he groans at how hard you’re making him. “ngh, baby,” and he nearly loses it the second he struggles to align himself. he feels so hot, fuzzy cotton stuffing in his ears once his tip slowly rubs itself in between your drooling flaps. satoru snaps out of it, clearing his throat before puffing out his chest in an attempt to maintain his known ego. “heh- i mean uh- let’s show ya how ‘the strongest’ fucks.”

and apparently, ‘the strongest’ didn’t really know what he was doing after all.

because he’s barely halfway in when he’s cumming - heavily.

emphasis on barely, and satoru lets out a sweet needy whine the second he’s shooting thin milky ropes into you. thick, stringy ribbons of cum envelope inside your pussy with warmth right away. “f- fuck, dammit,” he’d grunt, burying his face into the crook of your neck. satoru’s beefy body presses right up against yours, and he’s shivering at the feeling. it’s unlike any feeling he’s ever felt, and you giggle the second you hear him loudly sigh. “ugh, that wasn’t supposed ‘ta happen.”

“thought you knew what you were doin’, baby,” you cheekily reply, a few beads of sweat racing down the left side of your forehead. satoru sits up, leaning into your ginger embraces—your palm cupping his temple. he’s pouting, an unsatisfied pout extending across each side of his lips.

“i- i doo,” he whines, feeling his thighs starting to heat up near the undersides. satoru clenches his teeth, groaning once you gradually wrap your legs around his slim waist. he’s hot, and you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty ‘lil finger.

wide, crystal blue eyes meet your gaze before satoru exhales into your neck. “mnh, let me try again, baby,” and right as you rub your ankle down his tense back muscles, he gruffs. snowy flapping lashes of his shut tight before he wraps a hand around his lanky cock. “pleasee, c’mon baby. lemme prove myself. i’ll get it this time for real.”

a smile marinates its way against your features as you hum, rubbing a thumb down his sensitive undercut. for a second, you could have sworn you heard satoru purr as he leaned into your touch. you almost forgot how much of a tender spot that was for him. cute.

“okay, go ‘head,” and both of your thighs were practically sticking together. such amounts of his seed glue against your thighs—almost like it was some kind of clingy adhesive. satoru pulls out for a moment, eager to get a look at the sloppy mess and oh.. it was a lot - he came a lot, and satoru couldn’t help but stare at the luminous streams of cum that teared down your polished cunt.

it’s sloppy. satoru’s eyes widen once he feels his tip glide its way against your cervix. right near your g-spot - it’s fuckin’ bumpy, and he feels your legs eagerly twitch the minute his dick slides its way near a spongy area. you’re moaning, laid back before satoru starts to whine.

he can’t help but whimper, softly smacking his swollen tip on your entrance. satoru had no idea what to do next, but he just wanted to play with your pretty pussy some more. the loud echoey smacks from his dick onto your folds make his ears ring…pap after pap and he’s pronounced feral. but that’s right when you hear him sniffle, literally getting lost in your pussy the second he feels your cute pulse on his round, mushroomy tip.

as you wrap your arms around him, hearing him whine once you rub a thumb down his undercut, feeling him awkwardly trying to align himself again with a bashful needy grin.

“toru, are you cryin’?”

#CHOSO KAMO aka the virgin who barely lasts?!

“o- oh, fuckk,” he’d whine, twinkling eyes widening the second he’s watching your tummy cave in from behind. you’re so pretty like this, bent over, sprawled all out on all fours. choso’s stiffly still at first, and he’s very awkward with his hands. bulged, umber-colored eyes bore into your backside, gazing at your skin. stunning, choso grunts as he pistons his hips, glancing at the sunlight that radiates off a shiny part of your spine.

in choso’s eyes, you’re breathing pretty - art, and with the way your skin glimmers in the sun, you looked like a rare painting. “baby, you’re so warm inside.”

“mhm, don’t stop ‘cho,” you moan in response, feeling your loose jaw start to droop allll the way down. you nibble near the inside of your gummy cheek, gasping at just how big he is. his cock was huge, and it didn’t take him long at all to fit nice ‘n snug. its a semi-tight fit that makes your mouth start to water from the inside and you whine. “fuuck, ‘s okay, choso,” and he feels you wriggling your ass against him. choso’s eyes dart towards your bouncy rear and he huffs. “spank it.”

a shuddering breath leaves from choso’s pink parted lips before he lowly rasps. “yeah?” and you felt yourself throb, feeling him press himself all up against you. now, choso’s gently hovering his weight over your back whilst he’s still presenting you with passionate deep strokes. slowly but surely—he’s getting the hang of it, rummaging through your fleshy clingy insides with each punctuating hit. choso’s gruff heavy breaths fan down your neck before he moans, creeping a hand toward your ass. “i can spank you, baby?”

“mmh,” you whimper in response, hearing the salaciously wanton squelches of your cunt help out louder. saying that you were wet was a mere understatement, you were pouring all down his dick with your slick. choso could feel the wetted mess trail between your legs, coating the front of his thighs entirely with your viscid sap. he’s heard about intimacy but it was an entirely different thing to experience it firsthand. “spank me, choso. ‘s okay, you can be a ‘lil rough.”

“ ‘kay,” he huffs, and you let off a soft squeal the second his palm sharply swats against your ass. oh, he liked that. the way your rear recoiled, pretty skin bouncing quickly for a few seconds—all from a small whacking hit. the brief sting made your cunt pulse sporadically as he was still drilling into you. pump after pump, choso turns pussy drunk within seconds. “hah, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whines, tracing a hand down the pretty curvature of your ass. his fingers dance down every juncture, and it’s almost heart-shaped. “baby, you’re makin’ me feel so—fuck.”

choso gets cut off from his words the moment he feels his dick throb between your soddened cunt. you’re wringing him dry, all while your head is cutely smushed up against your pillow. choso’s speed quickly starts to get relentless, and after a while, he’s starting to understand the human body just a bit more. “ah, choso. fuck me, fuck!” you’d whimper, a curling sensation arising within your toes right as he slams his way into your cervix.

it’s a direct hit, a k.o. as some would might say—and it’s almost as if you’ve got stars ‘n imaginary birds flying over your head like a cartoon because choso’s dick had you stupid.

“somethin’s c- comin’,” he moans, slightly lifting your leg to get a better view. it’s probably been a few minutes and choso’s already panting like a dog. he’s feral - softly planting a stripe of wet kisses down your neck as he’s buried balls deep. “ugh, baby. ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, ngh.”

“inside, ‘cho. ‘s okay,” you whine, feeling his pace grow more relentless and sloppy. choso’s gripping your waist tightly, his bottom lip quivering as he’s feeling a sudden rush overtake his entire body. you’re perfect - he wanted to keep you like this forever, plug you full and keep you warm. you could hear his rough, heavy pants from behind you until he finally came.

whitish thick ribbons pour into you all at once, shooting deep into your womb.

it’s hot - physically and literally.

you’re arched over for him like a bridge and he’s whimpering, furrowing his darkened brows with a pout as choso slowly starts to flood your cunt. globs of sleek strings spray inside your gripping cunt as he gradually pulls out, openly watching as you’re moaning. the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock had him feeling fuzzy. “m- mhm, choso,” you’d mewl out, hearing him cutely gasp once your cunt sloshes loudly, spitting out thin clumps of his cum. “ ‘m so full.”

“hah- ‘n you’re gonna get even fuller, baby,” he huffs, a pout still glossing over his slickly-wet lips as he stares at your pussy. it’s pretty like this, he thinks. from top to bottom—you’re stuffed full of his gooey hot cum, so much to where it’s shamelessly oozing out of your puffed slit, racing down your numb jittery thighs. you moan, feeling choso drag a thumb down your sobbing, slobbering slit before popping his thumb into his mouth, licking his mess right off his finger.

choso moans at the taste before pouting. “not done, one more round,” and as he glides his tongue across his digit, choso gives your cunt a soft spank before groaning, softly pushing your knees to your chest.

“ ‘m still hungry.”

#TOJI FUSHIGURO aka the virgin who gets humbled?!

“heh. do y’r worst, baby,” toji would snicker, bringing a spank to your ass as he leans back against the couch. lazily, he’s slouching with a half-filled can of cheap beer in his hand. he’s smug, and not only was he smug but he was also virgin - the cockiest.

it’s funny because toji didn’t know what the fuck he was doing…however, he was more than willing for you to ‘show him’ how to feel good.

of course—he’s haughty that you won’t be able to take him, but it’s much to be expected for a pompous fratboy. “mmh, goddamn,” he’d grunt, peering down at your glossed weeping pussy. it’s wet, and as you straddle him, toji squeezes the energy drink in his hand. “slow, baby s- slow.”

with a cooing whisper, you sprinkle a few kisses near the inside of his neck. “slower, toji? but you’re the one who kept rushin’ me,” you tease, and from your peripherals, you can see his jaw tensing. fuck, the moment your cunt starts to ease down on his length in a gradually paced manner, toji groans. it’s a low husky groan - the groan where he’s already tossing his head back.

“y’r bein’ a brat,” he snarls, sliding an arm around your waist. your pussy was hypnotic - and you wearing one of his oversized jade-colored frat hoodies only made things ten times worse. you looked so pretty, and he couldn’t help but trail his hooded eyes down your body, stopping at the hem of your waist and right near your ass. “fuck- slow, baby. ‘m damn sensitive,” and you watch the sly smirk that was once plastered on his scarred lips slowly starting to fade. toji’s getting more ‘n more pussy drunk, and he knows it too. “mhh, like that. fuck me good.”

“you talk too much,” you teasingly grip his chin, watching as his leafy verdant eyes gaze into yours. he’s hard - and not only is he hard but he’s insanely sensitive. toji scoffs, but that soon disappears the moment your hips start to move. “hnghh,” you suck in a brisk breath, eyes nearly widening once you start to feel the gaping, lewd stretch. his cock was long ‘n tall—merrily expanding through your cunt within each thick inch.

one thrust - just one fuckin’ thrust and that was all it took for you to nearly break. he’s huge, and you whimper the second you feel his plump swollen sack kiss near the undersides of your bare ass. “oh yeah? make me shut up then.”

famous last words.

because even though toji’s all talk, he gets humbled right away the minute you change him as a person entirely all from your sweet, mesmerizing cunt. toji leans back, groaning gruffly against your ear as faint gurgled whines depart from his throat. you’re riding him good, shutting him with your pussy—humbling him with your hips. oh, you’re just riding him into complete oblivion. toji was left speechless, and instead of you moaning his name, he was moaning yours.

“ngh, fuck. god, ‘s good don’t fuckin’ stop workin’ those hips, s- shit,” he’d huskily snarl, squeezing the plastic can within his palm, crushing its shape. toji’s cologne scent was loud, and it completely rubbed off against your skin as you moaned. you were grinding against him back ‘n forth, whining continuously before milliseconds passed by and you’re now starting to feel your stomach churn churn churn.

each eye rolling, toe-curling feeling that twists in the depths of your insides due to his cock makes you sob out moan after moan. you try to silence yourself by sneaking a few needy kisses near toji’s scarred lip. he grunts with a clenched jaw, returning the gesture with a hand glued to your ass.

it moves like water - toji was always an ass man, and now that he was finally living the dream, he spanked you again, and again, and again.

the jiggle against his palm makes his dick throb, and you feel it right inside of your cunt. “doin’ okay, toji?” you tease breathlessly, watching as a shiny string of saliva tears away from both lips. you felt him squeeze his way wholly inside of your fleshy entrance, ploddingly and sloppily thrusting in and out.

“tch. less talkin’ more ridin—oh fuck,” he’d gruff, his shoulders slackening as you sensually rutted your hips further into him. god, you were teasing him so much and your wet, filthy cunt was to blame. he wanted more, more more. the way you moved in such a relentless manner drove toji crazy and he was starting to think maybe the two of you were just more than roommates. your pussy had that kind of power, and it’s not even seconds later before toji’s about to cum.

but surprisingly, he ends up lifting you with burly arms, pulling out with a speed equivalent to the flash. he moans, staring at his leaking reddened tip that’s dribbling from the slit with sticky droplets of warm cum. he’s heaving, staring back at your sparkly-coated cunt before he makes you recline back against the couch.

“f- fuck, ‘s much. lie back, baby. l- lie back for me,” and once you do, he merely pounces on you. toji exhales out a deep, heavy sigh before aligning his swollen tip near your dripping cunt. “god, look at ‘er,” he grunts, and you could hear the tremor in his voice as he’s spraying his seed on the outer part of your wetted entrance. it’s long, striped stripes of ivory ropes that paint your bare tender clit and he licks his lips at the filthy sight. “hah, so fuckin’ hot. milkin’ me like that, f- fuck.”

“you came pretty quick, toji,” you jibe, spreading your sopping cunt lips apart so he could play between your legs some more. with a loud ‘thwack’, toji smacks his swollen tip against your pussy, smearing his blushing crownhead up ‘n down your stained crying slit. it’s so messy, and you watch as his tongue briefly sticks out between his ruby lips.

“let’s not talk ‘bout that,” toji grumps, and you moan the second he’s re-aligning himself. his fat girth was ready to introduce itself yet again to your swollen insides. toji’s still panting, and you can see how flustered he was because he’s visibly pouting. “f- fuck, i . . i need a minute,” and he pulls back out, slouching back against the couch. you crawl over toward him and within a split second he wraps an arm around you.

yeah, he’s obsessed.

“give me . . a minute,” he huffs, his chiseled abs flexing through his grey dingy tank. toji pulls you into his beefy hardened pecs before staring down at you, and your eyes widen once he kisses the top of your forehead. “next time, ‘m gonna last ten- no, thirteen rounds.”

“sureee thing, big guy.”

spoiler - he doesn’t.

#INO TAKUMA aka the virgin who…falls in love?!

ino who moans out a sweet gasping, “f- fuuck me,” the second he’s easing his way inside of you for the first time. his dick feels soft for a second, tenderly assuaging through your insides before he whimpers at the new feeling. ino’s heavily panting out short breaths, staring at your bare exposed body that prettily sits underneath him before he moans. “ ‘m not hurtin’ you, right, angel?”

“no, no. ‘m fine, ino,” you let off a soft sigh, the lower parts of your legs snaking around his waist. ino grunts, going as slow as he can. he’s barely even a few inches in and he’s already sweating profusely. “easyy, that’s it, baby,” you reassure him with labored breaths, staring into his droopy hooded eyes. ino’s beanie was on the verge of sliding off the side of his head before he sucks his teeth at your gripping warmth. “hold my hand, here,” and you could feel his body shudder the moment you intertwine your fingers against his.

he’s big, and he knows it. ino scrunches his dark brows into a furrow, trying his best to blindly navigate his way inside of your cunt. right away, you’re clenching around him tight, locking your unstable legs around his waist before hearing him let off a sweet whimper.

“ugh, you feel so good, so good,” and within each wet-sounding thrust, his words start to pitch. it gets lower ‘n lower, raspy and husky. ino’s skin starts to glue against you thanks to the splotches of sweat dampening against each other before he huffs. “tell me it's too much, ngh—fuck,” and his eyes soften the moment you cup his face. “s- sorryy, am i talkin’ too much?”

“ ‘s okay, ino,” you inhale, and his pace starts to get quicker. vast, thorough thrusts make you feel every inch. his frantic rhythm rocks into you steadily, causing the bed to constantly wail out pathetic whiney creaks. you brush a thumb across the side of his cheek before moaning, feeling his tip zigzag its way across your sensitive g-spot. “ah! right there, ino. there, baby t- thereee.”

“there, oh- okay,” he tries to take note, studying your body’s movements. into felt his cock twitch at your reaction. so cute. you’d clench around him tight before arching your back, dragging your nails down his soft skin. ino’s stretching you out to the very limit, plummeting his dick into you over and over until you’re seeing nothing but cloudy blobs of white. you hadn’t even realized your eyes were lulling near the back of your head before he cheekily pointed it out. “heh, you look kinda silly like this pretty girl.”

you shoot him a playful glare whilst he’s still driving himself into your mid-thrust and ino sheepishly snickers. “sorry, sorry,” and with a sticky smooch, he brings his lips up against yours. ino’s pace starts to pick up more and more, championing his chiseled askew hips into you. “ah, i think ‘m gonna cum though, shitshitshit,” and as he’s rambling, ino starts to feel his hips into you quicker. “hah, lovie- tell me what ‘ta do. where do i f- finish,” he’d huff breathlessly, sliding his scarred hands near the sides of your waist. “tell me, pretty.”

“inside, baby,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. ino’s eyes widen - darkening, and he groans. the way you talked to him so sweet in his ear, even licking against the outer lobe makes him shiver. you’re a tease, and he only wanted more. ino wanted more . . of you. “wan’ you inside.”

“say it again,” he shakily whines against your neck, nipping a few invisible kisses near the juncture of your exposed collarbone. you tasted sweet, and ino’s mind spun cogwheels throughout each second he’s spent buried inside of you. “talk ‘ta me in that pretty voice- wanna hear you again. p- please.”

with a sobbing mewl from the brief twinges that slowly form into pleasure—you repeat yourself in a desperate mewling cry of, “inside, ino. please, f- fuck me,” and oh- if you saw the look on his face. his heart’s pounding as he’s mercilessly driving his hips into you at full fuckin’ throttle.

ino’s groaning into your neck, feeling his body growing limp before a lengthy multitude of seconds goes by and he’s cumming, hard.

it’s a thin hefty load - runny, stringy ribbons of feverish hot cum that splatters deep inside of you.

ino melts like a puddle into your embrace as you wrap your arms around him. “fuuuck, i lo-” he pauses, getting silenced by a shattering breath. your pussy’s got him secured on a leash, and he’s groaning once he hears himself pour such slimy amounts way into your womb. it sprays everywhere, painting inside and out.

ino kisses his teeth sharply, pressing one more kiss near the tip of your nose before moaning. “h- heh, think i love you, angel,” and you moan, feeling him slowly raise your leg, tossing it over your shoulder.

a hand of his creeps between your gloss-coated, gooey legs that practically stuck together before he pulls out midway, smearing a palm against your stuffed pussy. “ ‘n i love her especially, s- so much.”

[zestyhades]

“Welcome class. Unfortunately your usual teacher can’t be here today, so I will be subbing in. Now, I understand you’re on an interesting point in your biology course…”

I lock eyes with you and beckon you forward

“Now here is our brave volunteer for our introduction to sexual reproduction. Now let’s get a look at you…”

You’re shirt buttons are ripped off as your shirt is forcibly torn open in front of the class. You can’t talk back or retaliate. You already knew you were chosen for this role.

“Now the breasts here are quite mature. When sexual reproduction is successful, the milk ducts, located here, will produce milk for the offspring and will come out here at the nipple”

My words are fallen of deaf ears as my hands do the talking for you. Every explanation being accompanied with delicate touches to your body as your peers stare, jaws open, taking in your very beauty.

“Now, for the female reproductive organs…”

I say aloud for the class as I lift you to sit on the desk and lay you down. My tie is lossend from my dress shirt and find a comfortable new place around your thin wrists. “The colour matches your eyes my dear, I picked it out specially for todays demonstration” I whisper to you as your wrists are bound to a table leg each.

“Now everyone, make sure you get a good look here” I say, my hands now sliding briskly down your thighs and catching the sides of your panties as they’re pulled away from you. Evidence of your excitements clings to the fabric from your slit as it’s pulled away, and your peers are keen to let you know with their appraisal.

The explanation doesn’t even regiester in your mind. Words knock against your ears but you can’t listen. Your thoughts are only the knowledge of your wet slit being exposed to your class as you feel my fingers spread you open wide, the feeling of your clit being rubbed softly and finally, the delicate movement of a finger being slid inside for the class to see.

“You’re doing brilliantly my dear” I say looking down at the pathetic face at my table, entertaining the masses as you’re properly degraded.

“Now, you know about the female reproductive organs, it’s time for the males” I say stripping down and letting my hard member hit you in the face. You can see the demonstration hasn’t just effected you. You squirm at how aroused you’ve made your professor and wonder how this will end…

“Now, the best way to proceed with intercourse is foreplay. Stimulation of both organs. You saw my demonstration of that earlier with my fingers, and now my assistant will demonstrate how to satisfy the male appendage. Like so…”

Your mouth is opened as my cock slowly enters your throat. The taste is tangy on your tongue as it slides against it, the feeling of the blood flowing through the veins pulsating in your mouth evidence of the good job you’re doing as a lab assistant. You almost forget the crowd of people watching you as you sun it to the use of your body.

“See how I am now fully erect? This means copulation can begin. Now, please watch closely”

The hard cock you’ve been pleasing escapes your mouth and it pressed to your wet cunt. You can only squirm and let out little whines as the demonstration continues.

“It’s good to ease your way in, gently rubbing the tip to the clit. This allows for easier entry and it keeps your partner stimulated. And then…”

Before the words of explanation can come, the physical evidence is presented to the class. The hard, throbbing cock you had been waiting for swiftly entering you and hitting your cervix. You hear the exclamation of your peers knowing that there is no going back from it.

Your womb suddenly feels the spasms of the hard cock deep inside you, semen being ejected strongly into your womb. It overflows and leaks onto the desk you’ve been forced upon, it mixing with the juices you’ve shamelessly allowed to flow from you during the demonstration for everyone to see. The whisper of “that’s my girl. You’ve done well in showing how to reproduce here today,” softly slips into your ear.

“But, we’re not quite done yet I’m afraid…”

It’s not long until the command of “now, each of you come up here and show what you’ve learned. Grab a partner or two if you so wish” is directed to the audience while the blindfold is adjusted to your head. “A whole new world of sensations awaits you my angel. Do your best to assist your peers now” You now start your task as the class’ learning material, their hands and tongues suddenly covering your exposed flesh…

[authorhjk1]

How Does Aespa Ride Boyfriend’s Cock?

Karina

"Oh my god, baby."

Karina moans as she slowly rides your cock. You're sitting up while she's circling her hips and grinding in your lap. Her slow bounces make her tits bounce as well. You take the opportunity to capture her nipples with your mouth. One after another you suck on them, while Karina melts into you. Her wet pussy clings to your cock as she moves up and down and her hands hold onto your head, pulling you deeper into her tits. Her slow rhythm makes your head spin. You can barely call it riding. It's more like grinding. But it feels too good nonetheless.

Giselle

You let out a weak groan as you feel Giselle's butt cheeks hit your lap once more. She's is in reverse cowgirl position, but that's not the reason why you're losing your mind. You're losing your mind, because your cock is buried to the hilt in Giselle's tight ass. And as she impales herself on your cock again and again, you watch her ass bounce and jiggle. Her long pink hair flows down her back and sways to her rhythm. You can't help but reach out and grab her butt cheeks. Giselle lets out a loud moan as you grope them while she rides your cock. It feels like you hit deeper places everytime her tight ring of muscles glides along your length.

"You're stretching me out. Oh my god."

Giselle whines as your cock continues to fill her tightest hole. She applied way too much lube earlier. Now it's sticking to her cheeks and your thighs. Everytime she lifts herself off your lap, the two of you are connected by long, thick strings of lube.

Winter

"Oh, yes. You like it when I ride you, don't you?"

Winter moans in pleasure as she bounces on your cock. You have to hold back an amused smile. She thinks she looks so strong and dominant in that outfit, she decided that she's gonna be in control today. You let her be, for now, as you enjoy your small girlfriend riding you with no end in sight. Her tight pussy feels amazing as it glides up and down your length, it's grip tightening with every bounce she takes.

You can tell how it gets her going. That feeling of being the one in control. You get it. You have that irresistible urge to just use her tight, petite body all day every day. But for now, you let her have her fun. Your hands rest loosely on her waist as you admire her toned midriff, while Winter's own hands are holding onto your shoulders, her nails slightly digging into your skin.

Ningning

"Yes, just like that. Choke me."

Ningning moans as your hand around her throat tightens. Her own hands press onto your chest, supporting her weight, as she rides your cock at a quick pace.

Gone is the pretty, innocent girl who just woke up a couple of minutes ago. Ningning is now a little demon, tempting you to spend the entire day in bed with her.

"Choke me harder, oppa."

She whines, grabbing your arm and pushing your hand further against her throat. Your other hand is holding her waist, making sure that she is steady and secure on top of you.

"Oppa..."

Ningning calls for you, her breathing becoming heavier as she approaches her orgasm.

"Do it."

You tell her, using your hand around her throat to pull her down to you. Now, Ningning is bend over on top of you, but she keeps up the pace. She continues to ride your cock, while you hiss into her face, your own pleasure overwhelming you.

"Do it. Cum for me."

"Oppa..."

Another weak whine. Ningning holds on for barely a second longer and then cums on your cock. She slams herself onto your length, taking it as deep as possible. Now glued to your lap, she lets out a load moan, calling your name. Her whole body shakes, her pussy around your cock pulsating and contracting.

"Good girl."

You let go of her throat and caress her cheek, while Ningning is calming down.

"You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

Ningning gives you a weak nod, before leaning into your hand. Her eyes close as she feels your hand on her waist move her lower body back and forth. She got you all worked up, now she has to take it all the way.

[zaynes-pookie]

Xavier' Bunny

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Xavier x Hybride!Bunny!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, smut, little mean Xavier, calling reader bun or bunny, overstimulation, lot of cum.

𝐀/𝐍: just something that went through my mind...

You hissed has Xavier tugged on your lill tail. “Come on Bun, I know you can do so so much better than that…”. With his hand around your waist and the other one under your thighs, he was making you bounce on his dick like the bunny you were. His cock beating your cervix in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I can’t!” you begged. Your pussy was pulsating and tingling with the number of orgasms you had, juice gushing all around both of your pelvic area and forming a creamy ring around his thick cock. "Xavier…". You wanted to scream, trash, do anything, but with his cock so deep in you that you could feel a bump, all your dumb mind could think was about making it feel you.

“Yes, you can. Cum again and maybe I’ll give it to you. Cum again and I’ll make you a mommy.” A harsher tug on your tail and a deeper thrust from him made you wail and your cunt spasms around him. Squirt flowing on his stomachs and mixing with his cum overflowing your tiny cunt. The warmed of it making you dizzy.

Collapsing, you felt a touch on your long ears. His dick still hard and deep inside of you twitching from the orgasm. “ Xav…” with no thoughts, you nuzzled his neck waiting for the sweet that occurred every time after but, instead, he tugged you away with your ears, a scream coming from you.

“Did you really think we were done. I’ve barely even started, bunny.”

[thalwri]

TEACH ME SIR! pt. ii

part i!

STARRING: art professor!rafayel x art student!reader

synopsis: after the supply closet incident, finishing your final assignment wasn’t easy. but at least you reaped a good reward in the end.

warnings: porn with plot, all characters are aged up (and in university), fem!masturbation, listening to an unintentional sex tape, overstimulation, public sex, beach sex, fingering, oral (m!rec), body worship, dirty talk, pussy slapping (once!), cum eating (technically), creampies, underwater sex, overstimulation (again).

wc: 8,7k

a/n: forgive the delay, uni has been at my neck these past few weeks so i wanted to take the time to make this really good for you guys. hope you enjoy part 2!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

you hadn’t slept. 

not because of the final practical you had to hand over in three days time, not because of the submissions you’ve already see (which were phenomenal), but because of him.

your hands were stained with dried clay– you’d made countless attempts to wash it off and try again until you realised it was too futile. you’d end up thinking about rafayel again.

you’d end up thinking about what happened in the supply room two days ago.

every. single. fucking. time.

your mind was clouded in a buzz. your body was vibrating. your hands were shaking. you couldn’t even will yourself to touch the clay in fear that you’d mess up the progress you had already put countless hours into. 

you had mastered– you had hoped you did– rafayel’s face almost to the exact image of him. from the shape of his lips, to the height of his jawline, to the moles you indented into his face, everything.

and that just made it so much worse.

you could see him blushing before he kissed you. his eyes slowly rising to meet your gaze. the unmistakable lust that choked up that cramped room to the point where you could only smell each other. 

you had wanted him. and you failed to force that desire down your throat. in fact, it just sunk down to your pussy and pooled there waiting for him to consume you.

and he almost did. he was so close. his lips pulled at your now wet underwear, teasing your clit with his drooling tongue as if a mere piece of fabric meant nothing to his desire to taste you. 

his cock was rock hard. his body was like a fire. his voice was hypnotic. but the memory wasn’t enough.

fumbling through your phone with your nerves trembling right to your fingers, you found the voice note you had recorded. you had forgotten it was still ongoing even after rafayel had left. you were left in shambles, panting and huffing out moans of shock and despair. you needed more of him. 

your finger hesitantly hovered above the button to play the audio. what were you thinking? it was wrong. not only was it illegal considering you were going to use it as blackmail, it was corrupted with the most lewd experience you had gone through to date. none of your previous lovers could contest the impact rafayel left on you.

the effect he had on your mind. you couldn’t let it remain a memory.

without another doubtful thought, you quickly tapped the screen and pushed your phone away from you. his voice immediately flowed into your ears through the earphones, silencing every other noise in the private studio.

“where were you?”

your eyes fluttered shut, visualising the state he was in. shirt unbuttoned, chest heaving up and down, veins pulsating from his forearms to his wrists. his voice had a rasp to it, roughening out each syllable with unprecedented anger. almost like he missed you and your absence pissed him off.

your voices clashed in argument in the playback, waves of spiteful satisfaction resonated in you. at least you reminded him that you still had the backbone to fight back. then the pause came in, slowly raising your pulse. you could feel the tension rising as if you were witnessing it for the first time.

“you think i’m pretty?”

your legs pressed together, thighs rubbing almost instantly. you couldn’t fold that easily. you had already lost your grip. you couldn’t do it again. you felt for the edge of the table and gripped on it hard, afraid that if you moved your hands would fly to tend to your sobbing pussy.

“say it again.”

you almost did too. jolts of unanswered arousal pooled from your core all the way up to your throat. a gust of air was caught in your throat, your chest began to tighten. it was becoming too much to hold yourself. but you had to. just a little longer.

he laughed right down to your heart. his lips drew in a slow, deliberate breath before his next words came in a sultry whisper. “say it.”

“make me.”

you groaned into your hand, so vividly seeing the remnants of your sinful interaction you wouldn’t be surprised if that alone made you cum.

sounds of your lips colliding with sharp breaths shot shivers down your spine like a bullet. a soft moan escaped your lips, the rubbing of your thighs stimulating your clit ceased to allow your legs to spread wide open as you leaned back on your chair.

your hand crept down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to grant you access to your heated core. your fingers tenderly brushed over your sensitive bud and instantly brought out a pleasured response from it. your wetness somehow leaked from you even more just from a single touch.

the hushed breaths, wet kisses and soft moans filled your ears just like how you’d idealised his cum stuffing your needy pussy. your fingers delicately wandered around your swollen clit and eventually pressed down over the hood, rubbing it in cruel circles.

you sucked in your gasp as you fell deeper and deeper into the memory accompanied by the audible reminder of your mischief yet justified vice. your back curved into an arch, fingers rubbing faster and faster until your poor cunt was squelching from neglect and completely overwhelmed by your wetness that it soaked past your clothing onto the chair beneath you.

shudders and shivers brought your body to a shameless tremble– your legs pounced on the leg of the chair, struggling to maintain what drop was left of your composure. the joint melody of your moans and his lips smacking your skin sent you into a drunken frenzy. 

you could still taste him in your mouth, you could still feel his hands all over your body ghosting your skin in a layer of unabashed desire. 

“want to eat you,” his voice whispered. “taste you.” fucking hell, you were gone. a loud cry slipped out of your lips as your fingers finally answered your body’s call and plunged right into your pussy.

your lips curved into a ferocious grin, your fingers wasted no time to cruelly curve and push deeper and deeper into you. your gummy walls clenched around your fingers but it didn’t feel the same. it couldn’t resemble what he could do. how deep rafayel’s could go. 

how much deeper it could have gone.

you leaned back on your chair to give your hands more access to your weeping hole. you were so warm and wet– it’s no wonder rafayel lost his mind so quickly. your fingers slowly pumped deeper and deeper into you as far as they could go. one more slipped in, stretching you wider and a pitched whimper broke the silence in the studio. your pussy squelched and cried in arousal, practically begging you to move faster. 

but your sick mind couldn’t help but relish in the thought of holding yourself back just enough for your legs to twitch and shake. 

the audio had long ended and continued in an endless loop, repeating the hushed whispers, his laughs, the wet smacks of your lips, the amalgam of your lewd noises… fuck. 

again and again, your body shook at the precipice of your climax and yet you held back, keeping your wits sharp and your sensitivity even sharper. your fingers curled and thrusted deep into your cunny as far as it could. usually it was enough to push you over but ever since rafayel? your fingers were null and void compared to those smooth, rude fingers.

your legs spread wide apart, back arching to the overwhelming stimulation, moans literally hitching into slutty whimpers. the shadows of his touch burned your flesh driving you half insane. 

“f-fuck–“ the way his clothed length pressed against you, hard and hot was so deliciously sexy you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d feel inside you. 

first in your salivating mouth, still hot and intoxicated in his taste, so you could taste his cum shoot right down your throat. then all over your chest and face after he fucked your tits. then slowly and eventually deep inside you, stuffing you to the absolute brim. 

your head tilted far back over the chair as the pleasure bundled itself like a bursting supernova, throwing you into an endless abyss for you to drown and relish in the memory of his touch. the memory of his taste. the memory of your desire for him. 

waves of ebbing pleasure vibrated into your bones. but it wasn’t enough. 

you rocked your hips slowly against your palm, shivering from the aftershocks of your recent orgasm, needy for a special someone’s touch to replace your own. disrespectful, lewd, arousing whispers of his voice laced with your own ran into your ears in a continuous loop. you could listen to that damned audio for days.

your fingers dipped in and out of your soaked cunny, spreading your folds to feel how truly wet you were– and fuck damn. you were so sensitive to the touch and yet so desperate for more. 

you twitched, shook, and whined all in the midst of grinding yourself over your hand. you were making a mess, dripping all over the chair and your clothes but you couldn’t care less. you were so overindulged that you’d even stopped holding your noises back. 

his voice– his damned voice– begging to taste you, his fingers pressing so deep into you, his lips suckling at your bud– it was all too much on top of how sensitive you were. 

“need–“ your moans swirled into loud, whiny sighs as you drew closer to your edge. “need it–“

your hands trembled at the sight of the sculpting tool before you. no. you wouldn’t. you couldn’t. 

but you needed to. you needed it. your poor pussy was practically begging for more and who would you be to deny yourself of the pleasure you deserved? 

you gripped the handle of the tool and settled it neatly between your legs, ensuring the barrier of your wet panties protected you from the tool. your hips rocked back and forth over it, both cold and hard, ensuring it abused the life out of your swollen bud.

it was almost as thick as him but just as hard. you clamped your hand over your mouth, whimpers getting louder the faster you moved. his name slipped out of your lips in a devastated moan followed by rambles laced with unabashed filth.

“wish it was you,” you could feel the muscles in your neck constrict and strain the further you arched back. “wish it was you– fuck!”

it had gotten so noisy. all that wet slick noise that squelched right from your core had gone straight into your head. the recording had turned into white noise and your only interest was bringing yourself to your climax once more. 

you hated how you were making such a mess over him. you hated how you were getting so wet over the sound of him just seconds from fully eating you out, fully devouring you. and yet you loved it more than anything in the world. 

you swiftly pulled the tool up and huffed out a shaky moan just from the sight of how soaked it was– just from you grinding on it. your fingers tugged your panties aside and plunged deep inside you once more, not wasting time for you to lose your edge. 

your shaking hands dragged the handle of the sculpting tool up your body and nestled between your open cleavage, painting your lewd nectar all over your flesh. it was so sticky, so debaucherous, and so damn good that you couldn’t help but giggle at how fundamentally wrong it was. 

“fuck– please, oh god, please!” your lip caught itself between your teeth, your body unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure you were torturing yourself with. but you couldn’t stop and you didn’t want to.

the table shook from how tight your grip was, practically vibrating from how hard you rolled your hips into your hand. your skin was hot and sticky. the room was thick with your breathy, slutty moans and the noises your fingers expertly pulled out of your cunny. just one more push and–

as if it were divine timing, rafayel’s muffled moan broke you out of trance, absolutely breaking you. 

your nails clawed into the wood. your eyes rolled back. a hoarse cry ripped straight out of your throat and your body crumbled down, orgasm so intense that you collapsed right onto the table, body trembling, lungs gasping for air.

you glanced down to your hand and chuckled. wrinkled and soaked in your cream, you brought it to your lips to taste what had driven rafayel so mad. you felt manic. all that from a kiss and a little more. 

you expected the feeling of shame to kick in. but it didn’t. if anything, you felt pride. pride that you were the only one to have touched him, kissed him. the only one to have driven him to the point of tasting you. 

the mixture of sighs and nips came to a halt as you pulled your headphones off to analyse your crime scene. your chair was dripping, that clay sculpting tool was drenched, your heart was pounding. and the sculpture before you serenely stared at your disheveled state, almost like he relished in watching you fall apart.

oh, you were fucked.

and zayne could tell.

sitting in your usual spot barely an hour later, you were an absolute mess. shaking, stuttering and nervous at the mention of rafayel’s name. you had tried to maintain composure or at least give a front of being unbothered but your body literally decided to fuck you over.

“every time i say his name you shiver.” zayne deadpanned, stabbing into yet another cake slice with his fork. 

goosebumps coated your skin like a layer of fur. you felt like it was about to start snowing based off how violently you were shaking. almost like your body was screaming for you to attack your pussy with your fingers again. “no i don’t.”

“oh really?”

you slowly nodded with a forced grin. 

“rafayel.” and a sharp jolt ran down your spine, this time pulling a whimper out of you. his eyes slowly narrowed before widening in realisation. “oh my god, did you have sex with your professor?”

“no!” if oral sex counts… 

“so you did fuck him.”

“not exactly!” you conceded, burying your face in your hands. what better way was there for you to explain it other than saying ‘oh, it turns out he’s actually interested in me and probably finds me hot because he kind of ate me out’?

you could just make him listen to the audio– but you couldn’t. you didn’t know if you were under the influence of selfishness but it felt too sacred. too personal. and even though zayne has seen and heard a lot from you (mostly against his will), this was something you weren’t fully willing to share.

but he knew everything about you, hell, he’d accidentally found you using your vibrator (the only way to reimburse him was to send him a text or keep a note on your door and to buy him desserts for three months). but that recording? no. not that.

so instead, you gave him a watered down summary but did not spare any details just to spite him a little. by the time you were done, his decadent cake was long abandoned, replaced with a look of great disdain.

“while i’m eating my cake.” he grumbled, scowling at the dessert in reminiscence but he knew his appetite would not grant him the pleasure of eating more. he slowly leaned back into his seat, pushing the plate as far as his arm could reach. 

“so you’re telling me your professor dragged you into a supply room to ask why you weren’t in lectures and he ended up eating you out?”

hands still covering your face, you nodded. 

“well, you’re not going to handle your lecture if you keep shivering just from hearing his name.” 

“do you think i don’t know that?!” to make matters worse, you had an upcoming lecture that you had originally intended to go to. it would be like a revision lecture, filled with tips and advice to assist you before you had to submit your final assignment.

you were planning to go. were. and then that psycho ate you out.

“do you think you’ll be fine to sit there?” zayne poked your hand, voice laced with concern. honestly you didn’t know. maybe you could sit in the back of the lecture hall so that way he wouldn’t see you. or maybe on the last seat in the row so you had an easy escape. 

“stop overthinking.” your best friend’s voice snapped you right out of your daze. “if you think you’ll be fine, start going. if not, i’ll come with you–“

“no, nope!” you shot up to your feet, deliberately ignoring the rush of blood leaving your head. you were falling into a daze of dizziness– but not like how rafayel’s fingers did– fuck. “i’ll see you later, yeah?”

“unless you actually fuck him this time.” zayne muttered just loud enough for you to hear as your rushed off.

“choke!”

all you had to do to survive the next forty-five minutes was to rawdog it. just take everything that would be thrown at you and bite back hard. shouldn’t be that bad right? 

wrong.

the fucking asshole ignored you. he didn’t even look at you as you walked in. he was occupied with some of the maintenance staff carrying sculptures into the lecture hall. was he going to do a presentation to praise the makers?

as you walked to the nearest vacant seat, you had heard snickers. not a lot, but enough to know that some people still remembered what had happened. 

“rawdog, rawdog, rawdog.” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the table in the front of the hall. that wasn’t there before. just what was he planning?

just as he turned to face your class, all noise instantly fell to silence. but not like it usually did. something about his demeanour seemed a bit different. more crude. rafayel stared in four specific directions for long, without blinking or uttering a single word. his face was blank. and that was what made it terrifying.

“usually, these revision lectures come with written notes,” his stupid bioluminescent eyes glanced down at the four statues before him, scanning each detail noting its perfections and marking its imperfections. “but i believe a demonstration would do far better. especially with these finalised sculptures that were submitted early.”

he walked to the furthest sculpture, made of clay that was still slightly wet. it depicted the head of a lion– its details designed almost expertly. your skin prickled in the heat of envy. of course he would brandish the best works in the class. of course he’d act the same.

crack!

the sound was like punching drying mud. still slightly wet but dry enough to sound painful. 

the lion’s head was deformed, ruined and defiled by rafayel’s hand without a pinch of remorse on his face. a horrified cry erupted behind you following by choked sobs. you glanced over your shoulder to see one of the girls that bullied you crying into her hands. as much as you wanted to feel bad, you just couldn’t.

“that one was still dry.” he nonchalantly shrugged, wiping the excess clay on the edge of the table as if it were sludge. “don’t submit your work if it’s unfinished. that includes the clay not being fully dry.” 

he gracefully glided to the next, picking up a very heavy hammer. he tossed it into the air, watching it quickly plummet down landing directly on the sculpture beneath it. that one had fully dried. shards of dried clay flew as far as the first row of students, resulting in a flurry of screams. 

“that one was just ugly.”

the third he had pushed off the table to meet its end with a crash!

“boring.”

the last sculpture remaining stood as the most beautiful. it looked as though hours of sleep were lost to craft it, delicately held and carved and made with something deep. not love. desire. rafayel stared at the sculpture, lazily scrutinising each part. he held up a jug of clear liquid and poured it all over the sculpture until it was drenched completely. 

he picked up a box of matches. gasps and murmurs slowly arose. your eyes widened. 

he pulled out a match and dragged it across the sandpaper to set it alight. gasps turned into screams. your hand raised up to your lips in disbelief but never quite reached its destination. 

it was almost as if time had slowed. those purple-blue eyes slowly blinked as his gaze reached up directly to yours. and the match fell, slowly gliding down to the head of the statue, engulfing it in divine flames. divine vengeance.

he kept his word.

a loud scream sounded across the lecture hall, the only noise made in the otherwise silenced hall. the shock had silenced you. and yet his eyes– his eyes were now blue. like the flames drowned out the regal poise and gentleness in him and left only the cold cruelty behind.

it scared you. and it made your thighs press tightly together. it made your breath hitch. warmth almost as hot as the flames pooled in your core, only amplified by his gaze on you. your fingers twitched intuitively, almost like an urge to reach out to him. as if his eyes were a silent song calling to you.

he kept his word.

“i do not tolerate bullying in this class.” rafayel reluctantly pulled his gaze away from you to glare at the four culprits.

it did not take long for him to figure out who had destroyed your trial sculpture. with a bit of bribery and pushing up marks, it took him less than a day. it took a lot of self restraint for him to not attack them the moment he found out.

but he knew that this would be more satisfactory. their devastation and humiliation. your shock and relief. 

he couldn’t help himself. he just needed to avenge you. to see you happy. to have you in his presence again. you were dragging him deep into your abyss, singing to him, alluring him, drowning him– and he was more than happy to drown with you.

and if that meant showing you just how far he was willing to go, then so be it.

“you will not be passing this class under my guidance, and by extension will not complete this degree to graduate with your classmates.” devastated sobs were the only response. 

“to the rest of you, those are the ‘tips’ you need to keep in mind if you want to pass your final assignment.” and with that, he stalked out of the lecture hall. and chaos erupted. 

the maintenance staff had begun to clean up and extinguish the still burning flames. the statue had long burned to ash but the flames surged strong. 

you had to find him. you needed answers.

you rushed out of the hall buzzing with heat and shock. you needed air. but not on campus. you would find rafayel later. for now, you needed to breathe.

so you went to the beach. the first one you could find. you didn’t even bother listening to the security guard shouting behind you when your only interest was to be able to get air.

salted air filled your lungs as soon as you stepped onto the sand. it was relieving, soothing. as soon as your mind had cleared itself, you would start planning how to find rafayel and corner him.

but you weren’t going to have to look far.

“was that a worthy apology?” that voice. that same husky tone reserved solely for you had erupted your senses. struck your nerves. sent jolts of relentless heat right down to your core. 

he stood right beside you, blazer hooked on his arms and hair wildly blazing with the wind. 

“how did you–“

“i normally come here to paint.” he said as if it was obvious. like you totally knew. “how did you get past the guard?”

you weren’t going to tell him how you almost pushed the poor old security guard into a bush when you stumbled all the way there. “don’t worry.”

“right,” rafayel scoffed. “i won’t worry that you travelled all the way from campus when you should be working just to come here. it was to get air, yes?”

oh, he was insufferable.

“you’re unbelievable.” you huffed as you stormed deeper through the shore until your legs kissed the waves. rafayel followed almost intuitively, as if there were a magnetic string holding him to you. 

“and you’re unavoidable.” he spun you back in his direction. “i’ve barely been able to concentrate on anything apart from you. from avenging you. from the memory of you in that room.” 

your breath hitched. you’d assumed he moved past that event, let it go and allowed it to be a mere memory. it was more than a shock to see that he felt something too.

rafayel found his hands travelling around your body, the same way it did a few days ago. the way you were reacting to his touch… those gentle sighs, your leans into his hands, you were calling to him. and he just had to answer you.

“after what happened that day,” his head pressed onto yours as if touching you as much as he could would stabilise him. “all i can think about is you. and no matter how hard i try to satiate myself–“

a low growl pooled from the depths of his throat. “it’s just not enough.”

your held your lips within your teeth, leaving a gentle sting in your flesh. a soft finger flew to your chin, tugging it down just harshly enough to pull your lip out of your teeth’s grip. 

“don’t.” he whispered. “you know what that does to me.”

you couldn’t help yourself but smile. back to his authoritative act again. the only difference was that this time you knew that it wouldn’t last.

“make me.”

you had to admit it. you missed his lips. you missed kissing him. 

it felt so deliciously intense, so hot, so arousing. your hands naturally found comfort in his soft purple curls while his held your waist to press you two as close as possible. the cool bite from the waves kept you hyperaware and awake, intently noticing every movement he made, every sound that escaped his lips, and his growing length prodding your core.

“professor,” you sighed as you willed yourself to pull away to breathe. 

“rafayel.” he corrected, leaning in to peck you. he was addicted and more than proud to admit it. “call me rafayel from now on.”

you had said his name many times to curse him, to gripe at him, and to complain about him. but never like this. never this intimately. it almost felt too delicate to say.

“say it.” peck.

“say my name.” peck.

“or i’ll make you.” his next peck quickly deepened with his tongue welcoming itself. his cock pressed hard against you, burning right through the layers of clothing between you. you were going to fucking explode. 

“rafayel.” you moaned into his lips. his grip on you tightened.

“rafayel.” you said again. his hips jutted up.

“rafayel.” a low groan disrupted the peaceful crash of the waves on the shore.

“again.” rafayel pressed boiling kisses along your jaw to your neck, biting and suckling bruises into your skin.

the damn cold really woke you up because you slowly remembered that this was your professor you were kissing and were about to fuck in the middle of the beach. “rafayel, we shouldn’t–“

“please,” kiss. “need to be inside.” kiss. “need to feel you.” kiss.

“i punished those that wronged you,” he fell to his knees, completely ignoring the waves pushing him back and forth. he was too needy, too aroused. “forgive my wrongdoings, cutie. let me please you again.” 

he was good. he was too good at reminding you of just how much you wanted him. just how much you ached for him. you’d be a fool to deny yourself of that pleasure. your pussy was just begging you to be blessed with that delicious feeling only he could provide.

but, again, you were both in the middle of a beach. empty, yes. but anyone could walk around.

“rafayel,” his eyes twinkled in glossed desperation. “we’re on a beach.”

“it’s a private beach.” oh. so that was why the security guard chased after you. “i own it.”

your eyes widened. he owned a beach?

that annoying chuckle sounded beneath you as rafayel rose to his feet. he cradled your face in his hands, pressing warm kisses on your cheeks. “i said i like to paint here. but i’d never do that with strangers looking. so i bought the beach and the properties surrounding it.”

of course he did. the man was literally rolling in money. 

“so you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” his hips rolled onto yours, reminding you of the delicious hard on you had imagined while you fingered yourself just a few days ago. “unless someone runs past the security guard.”

“mean.” but so sexy while doing it. but since you two were safe to engage in your shenanigans… “then let’s do it.” you slowly leaned away from his hold to peel your clothes back layer by layer. 

rafayel silently watched you unbutton your blouse, unveiling your pretty tits, one nipple slipping out the hold of your bra. he quickly followed in suit, tugging of his drenched dress shirt to toss it onto the sand. 

you watched his shirt slip off, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen. he must have been sculpted by gods– or was potentially a god himself. you couldn’t help but look further down. down the tense line of abs to his v-line, to the trimmed purple tufts leading down to the tent growing in his pants.

your pants had fallen to the sand along with his, and fuck me sideways the print of his cock was orgasmic. could you even hold all of that with your hand? 

rafayel stepped closer, reaching his hand up your spine until it reached the lace enclosure of your bra. “you sure you want this?”

“you have no idea how much i want this.” a soft click instantly echoed end the endless range of the beach, giving your spine and chest relief as rafayel slipped your bra off your body. his hands delicately caressed your tits, deliberately pinching your hard nipples to perk out even more. 

“raf–“ you gasped, feeling a foreign sense of pleasure spread down to your core. that was new.

“mhm?” his eyes were practically fixated on your chest, fondling and massaging your mounds. his tongue slowly swiped over his lips and in an instant, he latched himself on one of your nipples suckling on you like a man starved. 

any response you would have made – which was most probably you cussing him out – was replaced by a sharp cry. while his mouth nibbled and suckled marks onto one his hand massaged the other, switching positions in intervals until he believed he gave your chest enough attention.

“see what you do to me?” his hand guided yours down to the huge bulge in his pants. it was rock hard. fucking leaking. “getting me so riled up just from the thought of satisfying you.”

his fingers hooked around the hem of your panties – lace again, you must be doing this intentionally – and tugged it down until he could see the string of your wet arousal connecting the fabric of your underwear to your sweet pussy.

“fuck, you’re soaked.” 

“and you’re rock hard.” you attempted to retort the obvious but your flustered state gave away your nerves. you tugged his underwear down, freeing his cock with a spring. 

it slapped his stomach, shooting drops of precum on his milky skin. fuck damn, he was so big. so thick your hands wouldn’t even be able to wrap around it, and long enough to stuff you to the brim. and those veins? you could count three. his mushroom cockhead raged a dark pink colour, leaking copious amounts of precum. you were tempted to lap it up right there.

rafayel must have caught you staring like a dickmatised sucker, judging by his giggle– he fucking giggled.

“don’t be shy,” his hands reached to hold yours as he pulled you deeper into the ocean, like a siren calling upon a sailor. it was unbearably cold and yet it didn’t bother you. “it’s all yours to touch.”

rafayel guided you behind a large rock sitting not too far from the shore, tall enough to hide you and shallow enough for the water to reach your upper thighs. the rough, mineral surface was much warmer than the water, making you melt as soon as your back touched the rock. 

“do you want me to stop?” his lips drew dangerously near yours. so damn close. 

the ocean fell quiet, serenely whispering to you with its waves gently lapping at your skin. the wind whistled through the air, blowing through your damp hair, bringing you to a shiver. rafayel leaned closer, pressing himself as close to you as your bodies could allow. 

it all felt so hot, so comfortable that the cold water couldn’t do anything. his hands wandered down, down to the perked pebbles on your chest. your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers ghosted over your skin, shivered gasps escaping your lips. 

“no,” your head fell beside his own, pressing hard on the need to protect the last of your restraint. “don’t stop.”

he hummed in approval, moving his hand lower and lower until it reunited with your weeping core. “you did something to me that day,” rafayel did not waste a breath to touch you, running his fingers along your folds and deliberately avoiding your swollen bud. “i haven’t been able to concentrate. just been craving you. needing to touch you.”

his hips bucked up rubbing his cock up and down your abdomen, precum painting your skin. you felt like his canvas, just waiting to become his best artwork. you were so wet you couldn’t think. you knew he could tell.

“i couldn’t contain myself after,” rafayel gripped your chin to pull you into a lascivious kiss. his fingers circled around your wetness, dragging your wetness up ever so slowly until it touched your clit. your breath hitched at the feeling. “i just kept on touching myself to the thought of you. but it was never enough.”

his fingers were humbly invited into your entrance, ruthlessly rubbing your wetness all around you, mixing it with the cold water beneath you. his tongue stuck out his lips, heavenly eyes focused and enamoured by the pure wetness you could produce. he could almost smell it over the ocean’s salt.

he devoured your whimpers, slipping his tongue deeper into your mouth. the way he drilled into you, curving in an utterly delicious angle and taking in every moan, sigh and sultry noise you created was almost too much. it felt divine. 

“my favourite thing about you,” he pulled his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a harsh smack as you whined. he brought his fingers up to his lips, sticking his tongue out to lick and taste your delicious nectar. the mere contact of it on your tongue made him groan. 

“your taste,” his eyes darted from his hand to your soaked cunny then to your lips. “it’s been stuck in my mind. and how it tastes with mine? fucking amazing.”

oh, he was nasty. good. because you were too. “let me taste you,” your body intuitively leaned closer to his fingers, lips spreading wide enough to take him in your mouth. “taste us.”

the noise that erupted from him was more than enough to make your walls clench. rafayel took the invitation your lips gave him and slowly pushed each of his pussy drenched fingers in, one by one. 

he was right. you tasted good. that’s one point to you for taking good care of yourself. but what roused you was the way he looked at you. 

his lips were parted, breath heavy, eyes glossed over and darkened with lust so intense that the purple-red tint of his eyes were drowned by the blue. he pushed his fingers deeper inside your salivating mouth up until you gagged around him.

“now imagine this,” he pushed his fingers back and forth, watching your bob your head as you sucked and swirled your tongue around what remained of your juices off his finger. “with my cock.”

oh fuck damn. that man had a way with his words. it felt like a dream come true. you must have manifested it while you were fucking yourself earlier that day. 

“you wanna try?” your eyes widened in erratic excitement. you pulled your head away and slowly sunk to your knees, making sure to kiss the exact spots he had kissed your skin in that supply room. 

slowly, teasingly, rudely, you dropped to your knees while ensuring your mark was etched on his skin in bites and bruises. rafayel’s pretty eyes were fluttering, face completely flushed red. you looked even better than he imagined. more delectable. it took so much more than his restraint to stop himself from fucking your mouth there and then.

but he let you tease him. just a bit longer.

you pressed a hot kiss right at the base between his heavy sacks and his cock, bringing him to a shudder. your finger trailed up his shaft until it reached his slit to dance little circles around him until drops of his nectar dribbled down to your tongue.

of course he fucking tasted good. just how much more divine could he get?

your tongue lapped him up slowly to take each and every drop until your lips wrapped over his tip. that alone was almost too much for you. fuck that, you were going to finish what you started. adjusting yourself to see him clearly, you raised your gaze to his glossy eyes and winked before sinking his cock into your mouth as deep as you could go.

rafayel’s hands flew to your head, gripping your hair to hold himself back. his chest heaved, rapidly moving up and down, and his lip trapped itself within his teeth. god, he was so fucking handsome.

you slowly brought your head to a rhythmic bob while your hands (both) stroked what your mouth couldn’t take. you traced each vein with your tongue as you moved back and forth and sucked hard on his cockhead every time you drew back for air. your jaw loosened just a bit to accept more of him down your throat, more and more until your nose was tickled by his purple hairs.

“oh, you evil woman.” rafayel huffed, watching a twinkle of mischief grow in your eyes as you pulled your head back. “i swear, if you– fuuck–“

the way his cock filled your throat had your pussy soaking even more. your jaw was widened to its limit, tears were burning at the corners of your eyes and your hands gripped his thighs to keep a strong hold on him. you took a quick mental notes. deepthroating was clearly one of his weaknesses.

your rhythm had gone much faster and deeper now that your throat became accustomed to his size. you quickly became sloppier and wetter, leaving a mixed trail of precum and saliva travelling down your chin to your tits. the gargled moans and gags leaving your lips drove both of you into a lust-fuelled frenzy.

“cutie–“ his moans grew louder the faster you went. “cutie,” his moans slowly turned into whines. “fuck, cutie–“ 

his hands gently pushed your head back to free his cock from you. he held his hand up as he panted, practically begging to get some air. you could only grin and wipe away the wet slick covering half your face as you rose to your feet.

rafayel’s lips crashed into yours, worshiping your lips in pure reverence. in a swift move you found yourself in his arms, leaning right against the rocks as his cockhead aligned with the entrance to your long neglected cunny.

“i hope you’ve had your fun,” his voice had dropped down an octave. you didn’t realise you could be so attracted to him more than you were just moments ago. “want to make you feel me deep inside.”

his lips coated your neck in wet, hot bites and smooches to draw out more of your sighs and moans. he deliberately attacked what he had learned to be your most sensitive spots until you were writhing in his arms.

“please, raf,” you pleaded. “stop teasing.”

you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “since you asked so nicely.”

rafayel slowly lowered your onto his cock but made sure you felt every part of his tip spread you wide open for him. your nails clawed into his shoulder and back, the sheer girth was overwhelming.

he whispered short praises to soothe you all while pushing his tip in and out of you until you welcomed more of him inside. the slight pinch of pain quickly became pleasure, allowing your pussy to soak him in your juices and suck him deeper into you until he bottomed out completely.

“fuck.” you both sighed into the air, eyes fluttering shut.

you felt complete. you could’ve stayed just like that for hours. 

“‘m gonna move, okay?” rafayel mumbled into your neck. your patted his shoulder in response. his cock slowly drew back and jutted right into you, making you gasp. 

he rolled his hips in and out of you slowly, just to get you both nice and comfy before picking up the pace until you both moved in tandem with each other.

one hand held the back of your neck while the other had a death grip on the plush flesh of your ass, feeling it ripple each time your hips collided. he kept pounding until his hips drew back a bit too much, pulling his cock out of you. he swiftly pushed back deep into you, ripping out the most lewd scream from your swollen lips. 

“oh, cutie,” he gasped out a handsome, breathless laugh, moving faster into you than before. “i thought you were worried about us making– shit– noise.”

“this–is– ah- your fault!” slutty stutters were all you could muster, and that only egged him on to go harder. deeper. rougher.

“what was that?” his tongue slithered up your neck, licking the salt off your skin. “didn’t catch that. ’s my cock too much for you?”

“g-god, fuck you–“ 

“yeah,” you could just feel him smile on you all while being balls deep inside your cunny. “yeah it is. let me– fuck– lemme fix that, cutie. how ‘bout i make you cum a few times so you can let all that anger out, yeah?”

so filthy. his words were practically drenched in debauchery and desire. and for some reason it had you fucking yourself back into his cock, desperate to feel those delicious veins running up and down your fluttering walls. 

you relished in the debauchery spewing out of your lips, trembling from the heat literally radiating off his body contrasting the chilling cold from the waves slapping your skin. your cunny squeezed so tightly round his cock that he almost came right there. he needed more. he needed to feel more.

rafayel swiftly pulled out of you and pressed a wet kiss on your shoulder as an apology to your whines. 

“do you trust me?” his husky whispers brought you to a shudder. you could only nod. he lifted you off the rock, sitting down in the water with you on top of him. with your waist was submerged the pressure within your core had increased astronomically– especially since he was still lodged deep inside you.

rafayel held you still by your hips, breath heavy and laboured. “didn’t know you could get tighter than that, cutie.” you couldn’t help but squirm, rocking your hips back and forth to make him move just a little. everything was so hot inside you to the point where the cold no longer bothered you.

it felt so damn thick and big, stretching you out even more than you thought you could tolerate. just as you were about to settle on him, rafayel’s hips snapped up pushing his cock further into you than before. 

it’s like the waves moved in tandem with the way his cock fucked up into you, bouncing you up and down, splashing with the colliding water every time your hips returned to each other. 

your moans turned into relentless cries into the wind, muted by the ocean’s song. the shifting sand dragged your further and further into the ocean unbeknownst to either of you, so encapsulated in chasing each other’s pleasure until you were chest deep.

rafayel ensured every part of you was touched by his lips, tasted by his tongue, and marked by his teeth. you were struggling to keep up with his smooth, godly pace. he couldn’t catch a break. he just kept going on and on to the point where you wondered if he was even human.

“do you feel that?” he groaned, not wasting the opportunity to slither his tongue around the shell of your ear. his grip on your waist tightened indicating his impending finish on its eve. “how warm you are, how tight you are around me– fuck– you’re burning.”

“you feel– you feel so much bigger!” your hands tangled in his drenched locks, tugging just as hard as his thrusts. 

that annoying chuckle rumbled from his chest. “don’t make me blush,” using the incoming wave as a booster, he raised your hips until only his leaky cockhead stayed lodged in your cunny– which was sucking him so hard he couldn’t escape if he tried– and dropped you back down until your folds brushed his swollen sacks.

your vision had gone white for a second, and rafayel– the cruel, mean bitch that he is– took that second as your ‘recovery time’, getting right back into working you to your limit.

deeper and deeper the waves carried you in, raising the pressure in your pussy as he pistoned in and out of you, his tip practically kissing your most sensitive spot– something you couldn’t even achieve reaching. 

your head threw back just far enough to touch the rising tide, throwing you into a dangerous mix of shock and pleasure. it so intense that your walls fluttered around him in an explosive finish, dragging out the most melodic cry he had ever heard. 

“oh, cutie–“ he was about to pull out– just about to. but he couldn’t, it all just spilled right out of him. the way your pretty cunny literally tightened around him… it was almost like you intended to milk him of all he had.

a breathless gasp left your lips at the feeling of his borderline boiling cum just filling you up. to think you almost stopped taking the pill. you would be more than happy to spend the rest of the year being stuffed like this– with him.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, i–“ you silenced rafayel’s apologies with a hungered kiss– so devoted and starved that you subconsciously nipped at his tongue and lips, rolling your hips to feel his seed spread deeper into you. and he hadn’t stopped. it was practically endless.

“i’m on the pill,” you whispered against his lips, pecking him with each word. “don’t worry.”

rafayel looked so precious under you. it’s like the ocean decided to bless him by making him even more handsome. he looked godly. sculpted by the most poetic artists, given the voice of a siren, the eyes of the deepest most beautiful coral and the hair of the most beautiful mermaid in the known abyss.

and you had the privilege to watch him unravel just for you.

his worry almost made you feel bad. he held you close, cock still pumping his sticky seed into you, soft plump lips spread as he heaved for air. the tide was still high, and the waves began to rage. but neither of you were willing to return to the surface just yet.

the waves were rising to your necks, just moments away from submerging you. your legs trembled, your breath hitched at every movement. and a mischief idea came slithering into your mind.

“i wanna try somethin’” you slurred, almost drunk on the feeling of him so deep inside you. even the cold water began to warm up as your pussy tingled through the last of your orgasm. she wanted more. you wanted more. 

you leaned down to his neck, licking a wet line up his neck, to his jaw, to the corner of his lip. “but you’re going to have to trust me.”

in good timing his hips jutted up into you, cock still rock hard and throbbing. “anything. do anything.”

questions of doubt began to flood your mind but you decided to through caution to the wind. you'd gone far enough– there was no turning back. “take a deep breath and hold it.” 

splash!

rafayel’s senses spiked completely to a new level. your lips were pressed tightly on his, enveloping him in a stronger erotic embrace. you had gone deep underwater until you were both completely submerged, using only the breath you held as your lifeline. 

everything felt so deliciously tight. so soundless. so weightless. like there was no limit to what you could do. rafayel wanted to take advantage of that. he swiftly flipped you over, ensuring your back gently landed on the seabed. breath still bated and lips still in a ferocious dance, rafayel slowly and gently rolled his hips in and out, feeling his cum seep out of you with each delicious thrust. 

the contrast between hot and cold was overwhelming, his blood rushed through his veins as the pounding in his chest translated to intense throbbing in his cock. your fingers dug into his flesh, squeezing at the pleasure and clawing for air but every time he tried to bring you both up to the surface you pulled him back down. 

the pressure alone brought you to yet another orgasm, pussy clenching around him even more. rafayel could practically hear you moan the last of your air right out of you just as he came again, both overstimulated and faint.

you both pushed past your body trembling highs swimming up higher and higher until you finally breached beyond the ocean’s grasp, returning to sweet air. within the first gulp of air you could gather, you returned to hungrily devouring each others mouths, hands caught up in each others hair and flesh like neither of you could let go. 

the ocean carried you back to the shore, blessing you and sending you off until you touched the sand. you found yourself back on top of him, still vibrating and in the midst of your orgasmic finish all while he was lodged inside you.

“underwater,” rafayel huffed as his thrusts came to a final halt. your lewd juices had mixed with the water, cleaning most of it away. what remained was mostly still inside you, plugged by his girth. “fucking underwater is a first for me. how’d you even think of that?”

“i’m creative.” you grinned, arching your back just enough to make him groan. “maybe you’d be nicer if you considered that.” 

his eyes darted between your own, flashing a glimpse of guilt. “i am so sorry for what has been happening to you. truly.” he pressed a kiss on your lips.

then your cheeks.

then your jaw.

“was my apology good enough?” destroying four sculptures just for you? most definitely. but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“no.” you sighed as his lips tickled that one spot on your neck. “i need more than that.”

“what can i do to make it up to you?” another kiss on your neck.

“give me full marks for my last few assignments." you huffed. "especially the trial sculpture.”

a low, breathy chuckle rumbled into your skin. his grip on you tightened to hold you closer. his eyes twinkled. “i already did.”

[whowritessometimes]

Back and Forth - Art Donaldson x Reader

A Stanford!Art Donaldson and Stanford!Reader fic :) Kinda slow burn, very soft very sweet.

Word Count: 3.9k

---

The California summer sun beamed down on the court, making the colors of the advertisements and signs around you appear almost neon. Upbeat music flowed through speakers that you couldn't quite place, embodying the feeling of the tennis matches that surrounded you, the back-and-forth beat pulsating through your head. It was almost overstimulating, but this was your normal.

You were pre-med at Stanford, volunteering at some local tennis camp to fill your summer and add fodder to your resume. You didn't do much, occasionally helping some rich, pompous kid stretch out their wrist, or their knee, or their ankle, or whatever. The days blurred together, they all spoke to you in the same condescending way. For most people, it would be mind-numbing.

But it was exhilarating. You had this intrinsic love for tennis, you always had. Perhaps it was that love that led you to signing up for this gig, and not the resume experience. But you would never admit that to anyone. You had played tennis for fun your whole life, with your family growing up, with your friends in high school. It was only when you shattered your wrist sophomore year that you had to stop.

It sucked. It sucked at the time, and it sucked now. You weren't professional-level at tennis, not like these people, but it was nice to have a hobby unlike anything else people expected you to do. The pre-med thing, the reading, the studying, it came naturally to you. And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, and it wasn't like you weren't good at it, but you loved tennis. And every now and again, you missed it.

So here you were. Your head followed all the heads in the crowd in a practiced, synchronized, subconscious back-and-forth. There wasn't really ever a crowd, the games at the program were often informal, the audience often consisted of coaches and other players. But this was a unique match, Stanford's players engaged in a captivating display of athleticism. It was almost like a dance, the way they seemed to know the moves of the other before they made them. You could feel the intensity from your tent by the end of the bleachers.

Stanford's star player (well, one of them)—Art Donaldson. You'd half-watched him play from your tent whenever you weren't working. He was elusive, but undoubtably one of the best there. You had never spoken. He was enigmatic, focused on his training and on helping others. He had perfect technique, people said. Now, you had the chance to really see how he was. And he was. Top of his game.

Usually.

The air was thick with humidity. Your gaze flickered between the players, boredom warring with the gnawing anxiety that always hummed beneath the surface during matches. Then, a sound sliced through the rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls—a sharp cry of pain.

Your head snapped left like a whip, your heart leaping into your throat. There, sprawled on the opposite side of the net, lay Art. His face was contorted in agony, one hand clutching his ankle at an unnatural angle. His racket lay a few feet away, as forgotten as the polite pleasantries that had filled the air before the match.

The shitty plastic chair beneath you creaked in protest as you scrambled to your feet. Ignoring the surprised yelp from the equally shitty excuse for a supervisor you'd been assigned for the summer tennis program, you sprinted across the court. Dust billowed in your wake, blurring the vision that was already swimming with a mix of dread and the adrenaline rush that always came with seeing someone hurt.

You skidded to a halt beside him, kneeling. His eyes, usually bright with playful competitiveness, were screwed shut, teeth clenched as he fought back a string of obscenities you knew all too well.

"Hey," you said, forcing your voice to remain calm despite the tremor running through your body. He flinched at the sound of your voice, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his normally confident expression.

"Hey," he managed to rasp out, opening one eye a sliver. He tried to push himself up, but his face crumpled again as a fresh wave of agony shot through him.

"Don't move," you ordered, the calmness in your voice surprising even you. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his injured ankle.

"'S bad, huh?" he breathed, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice.

The concern in his eyes sent a jolt through you. It wasn't just the pain; it was the fear.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice softer now, "We'll get you checked out. Just...hold still."

Ignoring the sting of sweat in your eyes, you carefully slipped your arm around his waist, offering what little support your slight frame could provide. Heaving him halfway onto your leg, you began the slow, agonizing walk towards the medical tent. Each step sent a spike of pain through Art's leg, reflected in the way he gritted his teeth and winced with every movement.

The supervisor, finally spurred into action, scurried behind you, muttering something about ice packs and paramedics. But your focus remained solely on Art, on getting him to help as quickly as possible.

You knew what it was like. Maybe that's what spurred your immediate action, your need to help him recover, to keep playing. You knew what it was like.

The antiseptic sting of the medical tent assaulted your nose as you hovered beside the injured player. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw with each prod from the trainer.

"Think they all saw that?" he finally rasped, a hint of amusement battling the pain in his voice. You blinked, surprised by his oddly timed humor.

"Doubt it," you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips. "'S not like you're Art Donaldson or anything."

A sheepish grin replaced his grimace. "Thank god."

The trainer finished his work, leaving you and the injured player alone in a tense silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours for the first time.

"So," he began, trailing off as he stared into the ceiling of the tent. There was something in his expression, the physical pain, the fear that comes with injury, the odd quiet of an unfinished game.

"So," you mimicked, sitting next to him in another shitty chair.

Something hung in the air, something all too familiar to you. He turned his head to look at you, to make eye contact, keeping his body flat on the cot. You realized then how close you were. Close enough to see his eyes, the sharp point of his jawline, the strawberry blond of his curls.

You averted your gaze, looking out into the brightness of the tent entrance. The typical ambiance of the outside seemed to be drowned by the odd intimacy you'd created together, the silence between you and Art seemed to be the only noise you could hear. His shoddy breathing, despite his attempts to pretend he was okay, only brought you back to when you felt the same way he did, all those years ago.

A blush crept up your neck. You fumbled for something, anything, to break the charged silence in the tent. "I, uh, broke my wrist sophomore year," you blurted, surprised by the words leaving your lips. "Tennis, ironically. One minute I'm playing—probably terribly—and then I'm in the ER holding a bag of frozen peas. And, I don't know, I guess I'm just saying... I get it. Sort of."

"You trying to distract me?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you admitted, a hesitant smile mirroring his. "Is it working?"

"Yeah, actually," he conceded, leaning back on the cot. "Tell me more."

You felt a genuine laugh bubble up from your chest, the first since the moment you saw him crumpled on the court.

---

And that was really the last time you saw Art. Suffice to say you hadn't forgotten about the encounter. It was actually stupid, how often you thought of it. He didn't even know your name, but you remembered the timbre of his voice, the softness of his gaze.

In your defense, he was hard to avoid. Now that the spring semester had started, tennis season was in full swing. His picture was plastered around the most of the facilities you frequented, future NCAA champion Art Donaldson.

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine hung heavy in the crisp California air as you hurried across the bustling Stanford campus. The semester had sprung with a vengeance, bringing with it the usual flurry of activity—overloaded backpacks, animated discussions about last night's party, and the ever-present anxiety of looming deadlines.

Today, however, an extra weight sat on your shoulders. Your pre-med advisor dropped a last-minute surprise: mandatory tutoring for a struggling athlete. Juggling med school coursework with a part-time job at the campus health center was already a tightrope walk, and adding this felt like a precarious extra step. But you managed it, as you did most things. How you had some semblance of a social life was a mystery. And maybe your very obvious lack of a love life was why you thought about Art so often. You didn't have time to psychoanalyze yourself, though. You barely had time for whatever this tutoring session was about to be.

Reaching the designated classroom, a small, windowless space usually reserved for last-minute group study sessions, you took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door. The sterile light inside momentarily blinded you, but as your eyes adjusted, a sight unfolded that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Sprawled across a cluttered table, papers piled haphazardly around him, was a man who you'd spent the better part of the last few months thinking about.

There, unmistakably, was Art. His signature strawberry blond hair, slightly longer than you remembered, covered with a backwards baseball cap, curled at the edges, framing his face. A deep furrow creased his brow, a testament to the frustration radiating from his hunched form as he focused on a massive biology textbook. An unsettling warmth bloomed in your chest, a reaction entirely too potent for a tutoring session.

The memory of him sprawled on the opposite side of the tennis court last summer, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, flickered across your mind. The panic that had gripped you then seemed almost comical now. The sterile environment and the way his eyes had held a curious blend of pain and something else—gratitude, maybe?—all formed a vivid memory you hadn't realized had imprinted itself so deeply.

His presence filled the small room, unexpectedly stealing your breath and injecting a jolt of something entirely different into the monotonous routine of your day. A shyness spread across your face, tinged with an unfamiliar nervousness as you cleared your throat, the sound echoing awkwardly in the sudden silence.

A slow smile took over his features as he looked at you, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you were caught in that smile, a memory resurfacing from the hazy days of summer.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm. He reached a toned arm, pulling out a chair for you.

"Hi," you blinked, momentarily flustered by the gesture and the echo of familiarity in his voice. There was a moment of tension in the air, of uncertainty, of a strange sense of reconnection. Finally, you managed to force out the words, "How are you?"

"My ankle's a lot better now, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, making you hyperaware of the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"You remember me?" you blurted out, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

"Course I remember you," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't ignore the way his eyes flickered from your face down to your body, and back up. Blatantly checking you out. And you could hear his smile in the way he spoke, warm and genuine, sending a familiar flutter through your stomach. The memory of his teasing laughter in the sterile medical tent resurfaced.

"Right," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted in your chair, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his gaze on you.

The next hour or so unfolded in a way that surprised you both. Art's initial confusion melted away as you hovered next to him, animatedly explaining each concept. Social life, love life, Art Donaldson, you couldn't explain. Biology, medical stuff, sports, you understood.

And he was beginning to as well. Time became a forgotten entity, measured only by the turning of pages and the occasional frustrated groan from Art. He wasn't the cocky athlete you'd half-imagined, but someone with a genuine curiosity about the world around him and some kind of depth hidden beneath his confident facade on the court.

Finally, Art leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We should probably call it," he declared, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He thanked you, looking into your eyes as he said your name, the syllables dancing off his tongue in a way that made you feel like it was more than a word you had offhandedly mentioned to him.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

The study sessions became a regular occurrence. The two of you exchanged numbers, only to arrange meetings, you reminded yourself.

But whenever he called, you found yourself talking about so much more than biology. It started with him asking how you were, a simple courtesy that somehow felt more genuine coming from him. Yet, as you replied, a comfortable ease would settle in. You'd find yourself laughing at inside jokes, dumb stories, the kind that wouldn't be particularly funny to anyone else, would mindlessly tumble out, fueled by the comfort you felt in his presence. It was a kind of nonsense, a space where you could just be yourself, and somehow, it felt like everything and nothing all at once.

---

Now, it was late, and it was finals week.

Papers and textbooks were scattered across your desk, a battlefield of scribbled notes and highlighted passages. You were in the trenches, neck-deep in the intricacies of biochemistry, desperately trying to cram information into your sleep-deprived brain.

Suddenly, the familiar buzz of your phone cut through the silence of your cramped dorm. You fished it out of your pocket, a flicker of annoyance battling with the ever-present hope that it might be a break, a distraction from the relentless onslaught of scientific jargon. Gratefulness shot through you when you saw Art Donaldson's name on the screen.

You answered the call. His voice crackled through the phone, laced with desperation. "I need your help," he blurted out, completely unlike his usual easygoing self. "What the fuck is molecular cell biology?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "In general?" you replied, already picturing the hours that it would take to explain the subject. Finals be damned, apparently.

"Can you just come over?" he groaned. "If you aren't doing anything."

You glanced back at the flashcards on your desk. "I'm not doing anything."

So here you were, knocking on the door of Art Donaldson's dorm. You heard rustling from the other side, making you wait just a beat longer in the dimly lit hallway. You rocked back and forth on your heels, chewing the inside of your cheek and rethinking your current appearance. The oversized Stanford hoodie, mess of your hair, and lack of makeup now seemed ill-fitting for a meeting with the boy who had somehow winded his way into becoming your crush. You felt like a kid again, back in high school.

You were starting to worry you had the wrong room until the door swung open, bathing the hallway in a golden, hazy light. There stood Art, moving his large frame out of the way to gesture you into his room with a short greeting and a "thank god." You didn't know what you expected, really, but there you were, slinking a little too closely past him as he stood in his doorframe. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he stood behind you, guiding you to his tiny desk in the corner of the room. His hands ghosted over the small of your back, and you felt his warmth, despite him not actually touching you.

The room itself was small. It wasn't unlike yours, or any of the others on campus. But it somehow felt smaller with Art next to you, burying his face in his hands every time you patiently explained a concept you'd gone over already. His face. He was so close to you now, the quiet of the night and the room only making you feel closer.

The energy of this study session felt so different from all your others in the past. You weren't in a classroom, or meeting him after practice in the library. You were seeing another side of Art, the part of himself he didn't publicize. Every freckle, the stretch of his faded t-shirt over his body, the curls he brushed out of his eyes every now and again, the way he flexed his callused hands as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous fidget.

It felt like time slowed down. You labored over the biology textbook, finding practice questions and asking him some of your own. You were gentle, cautious. Maybe it was the weird intimacy of the moment, maybe it was the lack of air in the cramped dorm. Your voice was soft, and you couldn't help but notice how the tension Art held over the phone and when you entered the room melted away. Did you do that? You felt this reciprocation, possibly imagined. But whenever you cracked a dumb joke, he'd laugh and put a hand on your arm. The contact always made you freeze. The touch was a reminder he was real, he was tangible. Every fleeting gaze, every smile in your direction.

You had almost reached the end of the chapter, and Art was getting almost every practice question right. You fidgeted with a sheet of his messy notes, reading it over to continue some rant you were on about RNA.

"...made up of nucleotides, which are ribose sugars attached to nitrogenous bases and phosphate groups..." You trailed off, looking up from the papers only to find his gaze already on you. How long had he been looking at you? And the way he looked at you...

"Do you want to take a break?" He tilted his head.

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to fight your smile. "Sure."

He got up with an over-exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms over his head, exposing the bottom of his toned abdomen. For a moment. He reached under his desk, pulling out a box of some cheap canned beer. He popped the tab of a can, taking a long draw and passing it to you.

You looked away from his watchful eyes as you took a sip. Your face heated as you took into account the fact you were drinking from the same can he had.

You winced. "God, that tastes like ass."

"Sorry." He laughed, taking the can from you. Warm, callused fingertips brushing against yours.

"I didn't take you for a Steel Reserve kinda guy."

"What did you take me for?"

"I don't know. Gatorade?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "No more for you."

"Wait, wait, okay, I take it back."

He held out the can for you again.

"Mhm."

"Still taste like ass?"

"It tastes like what I imagine WD-40 tastes like."

You felt your heart swell as he laughed at that. You hadn't noticed how the two of you now sat impossibly closer, thighs brushing, shoulders sending sparks whenever they met. The half-empty can of beer felt like a nervous talisman being passed back and forth between you. Dumb jokes tumbled easily from your lips, punctuated by laughter that echoed weirdly loud in the quiet room. Finals week stress had completely evaporated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the shitty beer.

It was so easy, talking to Art. Easier than it should have been, considering you were explaining the intricacies of cellular respiration to a man who once thought mitochondria were a type of pasta. But he listened, truly listened, his eyes locked on yours. You caught yourself getting lost in their depths, a dizzying kaleidoscope that mirrored the nervousness in your stomach.

He leaned in, as if to hear you better, and you mimicked the movement unconsciously. The space between your faces shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze did its familiar dance—right eye, lips, left eye—and this time, it lingered on your lips a beat too long.

A sudden self-consciousness washed over you. Should you pull back? This wasn't your intention. But before you could overthink it, Art's lips were hovering over yours, a question in the way they hovered, hesitant but hopeful.

"This okay?" His voice was impossibly low, breathy, quiet. His eyes raked over your features, eye contact shifting from left to right, back and forth. His hand, warm and calloused came up to cup your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

"Yeah." You breathed.

The kiss, when it came, was soft and unexpected. More of a tentative exploration than a passionate assault. It tasted of desperation and relief, of unspoken feelings finally finding a voice.

Your hands moved from your sides to toy with the curls on the back of his head, earning a barely audible groan from Art. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his other hand moving down to pull you impossibly closer by the small of your waist. His touch was shy, tender.

After what felt like forever (and you wouldn't have minded had it been), you pulled away slowly, breathless, a blush painting your face. His eyes searched yours for some unknown answer. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

A slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the one blooming on yours. "God, you're so pretty."

Leaving Art's dorm room felt like navigating a dream. Your head spun, a mix of the cheap beer and the potent aftertaste of the kiss. Your lips still tingled where his had been, a brand new sensation that sent shivers dancing down your spine. Relief, sweet and unexpected, washed over you. Months of stolen glances, late-night calls disguised as study sessions, and a simmering tension that had threatened to consume you—all of it had culminated in that single, electrifying kiss.

As you walked down the quiet hallway, a giddy smile stretched across your face. It wasn't just the kiss itself, though that replayed in your mind in a loop—hesitant, searching, then deepening with a shared sense of discovery. It was the way he'd looked at you afterwards, his eyes soft with unspoken emotions, mirroring the whirlwind in your own chest. A nervous flutter remained in your stomach, a delicious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

But beneath it all, a quiet confidence bloomed. He felt it too. This wasn't just some fleeting moment, a stolen kiss in the dead of night. It was a turning point, a bridge crossed, and the future, once shrouded in the haze of exams and unspoken feelings, now shimmered with possibility.

[urabsolute-nightmare]

has it just been me? or is it everyone else, but brat taming seems so so hot to me.

I would love to be brat tamed, a man just needs to put a gag or whatever into my mouth to keep me quiet my whines and protests falling deaf to his ears.

While he shoves three fingers into my soaked cunt his hands, curling around my neck knocking out all of my oxygen, and then I’d get more bratty.

I’d kick and try to push him off me and he’d get more mad, “Fucking shut it this is what you wanted isn’t it You worthless mutt”

I’d shut up completely he’d tie my wrists up with rope making sure it’s tight enough to leave bruises.

Then after a bit of him edging me till I’m a stupid mess he’d kick his jeans off he didn’t even bother putting boxers on.

He spreads my thighs apart without caring, before pushing his cock deep inside me it’d be a big stretch and tears would start flowing down my cheeks.

As I try to adjust the size of him his cock pulsating inside me his tip brutally hitting my cervix. His hands gripping my body no matter how many bruises their are till his seed spills into me then after we go again and again till I’m a whimpering soaked mess.

I’ll forever be grateful to be a worthless fleshlight.

But that’s just me isn’t it?

[angelxarii]

°*• TASTE - RIN ITOSHI¹⁸+

cunnilingus/eating out, dirty talk, not proofread

I headcanon that Rin Itoshi is crazy good with his tongue. For obvious reasons.

And once he finds out how good he makes you feel with just a flick of his tongue against your clit, you best believe he'll use that to his advantage whenever he can.

°*• ❀ •*°

Rin had his hands on your thighs, keeping them open so you don't close them from overstimulation.

His hands were wrapped around the upper portion, gripping the plush of your thighs, his thumb rubbed soothing circles against your skin. Completely contradictory to the abuse happening on your clit.

His head was buried between your legs. The warm muscle of his tongue pumping deep inside of you; your juices flowing down his chin and onto the mattress.

When Rin has his lips pressed against your slick folds, the only thing that matters is you, the way you feel and making you feel good. He was always so concentrated on you that his surroundings didn't matter.

"Fuck. You're so wet. So sweet. The way you're clenching is making me think you're close."

"Are you, hm? You wanna cum on my face, wan'a cum in my mouth?"

The way he said it made it sound like a question but both of you knew it was a statement.

"Yea.. ri-rin.. wanna cum.. please" you whined, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face.

He had used the shirt you were wearing to tie your hands to the bed frame. Rin doesn't like it when you try to push him off and tell him "it's too much" or "no more".

Of course he's only doing this so his pretty girlfriend can feel good and help you relieve some stress. Seeing you cry and trembling beneath him is only a bonus.

"Rin.. please, 's too much"

"Shh, quiet, you're doing so good for me, yeah? I'll let you cum soon, pretty"

Rin moved his tongue to your puffy and swollen clit, taking it between his teeth making you jump.

"Rin!!"

He ignored your cries, pressing his tongue flat against your folds, and dragging it across, touching and teasing every part of you.

"Your pussy is so sensitive, I can't get enough of it" Rin mumbled. Pushing 2 fingers inside your neglected hole. He stretched you open, not getting enough of how you sucked him in and clamped around him. The younger itoshi was knuckles deep in, your previous orgasm trickling down his long fingers.

"Close, huh? Cum for me" he kissed your pussy, pulling his fingers out and taking them into his mouth like a man deprived of water.

Rin kept his eyes on you as he slurped up whatever you were giving him. His gaze had you squirming, pulling at the restraints. You sniffled, bitting down on your tongue as you clenched around nothing. The weird feeling in your stomach only increased.

You didn't even have the chance to tell Rin or let alone utter a word before his tongue dove back inside of you. Lapping at your pulsating hole. Swallowing up your release, trickling down his chin, licking his lips to make sure none of it goes to waste.

He pulled back, sitting up between your legs. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

He couldn't help but grin at your pouty, tear stained face.

"You taste amazing, baby" the murmur of rin's voice sent a sudden jolt down your spine, leaving you breathless like every other time.

ʚɞ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐱𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐢 | ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[desire4ella]

❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ❞

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Husband!In-Ho x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The games are playing,but you just cant keep still

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 700

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Daddy kink, Choking, Rough fucking, NOT PROOF READ!

It’s been 30 minutes…

Your hole ached for release,desperately clenching and unclenching around his cock to try and get even the smallest amount of pleasure;but the firm grip on your hips restricted you from getting what you so desperately wanted.

BANG,BANG,BANG

The sound of gunshots being rippled out in a treacherous game of red light green light, a cruel part of you didn’t give a slightest fuck of who was being killed right now,but only the way In-ho’s delicious cock was stretching out your cunt to the fullest. You let out a desperate whine “ Daddy pleaseee,it’s been over 30 minutes, we can watch the fun later.Just fuck me” you were growing agitated as the seconds ticked by, the feeling of his veiny cock continuously pulsing deep inside you. He had to be doing this on purpose.

A big smirk played on his lips as he leaned into whisper to you , his deep rich voice sounded like dark chocolate as it flowed into your ears “patience is key baby”. You huffed in complaint and leaned back against him. If he wanted to be a fucking tease then so be it.

20 MINUTES LATER

You felt like you were about to explode,you couldn’t deal with it anymore and you had a feeling your husband took fun in watching you struggle as every time someone was murdered he would slightly thrust his hips upwards, making his cock slightly brush up against your g-spot continuously. You were a panting mess just by him moving slightly,now imagine how you would act when he was repeatedly ramming deep into your soaking pussy.

ROUND OVER

FINALLY,the round was over. The animated voice of the woman blazed through the speakers “ players 054, 065, 048…have been eliminated” watching through the big screen you could see the amount of dead bodies littered across the floor like rubbish bags, but you couldn’t care less as you suddenly felt one of In-ho’s colossal hand sneak around your neck and placed a firm grip around it. “ You’ve been such a good girl, let daddy reward you” he gruffly groaned out as he to felt a bit desperate for release.

Hooking both of your legs over his, he began to piston out of you like it was his first time. “ Yesssss, daddy-y fuckkk right thereee” you hiccuped; your hair was in a state from all the bouncing you were doing,your mouth hung open as spit threatened to dribble out as you felt one of his hands reach forward to rub tight circles around your pulsating clit. He could he feel his balls begin to tighten up,signifying that he was about to cum in your dripping hole. Gripping unto the couch he grounded his heels into the floor so he could a better angle to fuck you better as he thrusted upwards with full force now. “ That’s it honey,let go, Come.Over.Your.Dick” you clenched down hard as you felt like your pussy was on fire,it was like there was no room inside your body as all you felt was In-ho’s long dick hit every single spot inside your body that even you didn’t know you had.

Wet skin slapping and down right sinful moans/groans were all that could be heard if you were to enter the front man’s slumber. The poor gaurds that were outside would be able to hear their boss absolutely destroying your abused cunt, but boo hoo,you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“ Ummmmm, what are those sounds guys?” your eyes shot open in terror as you watched all the players in the game head turn towards the camera in the room they were in. It felt like they were all staring into your souls from the big Tv.

Fuck you forgot to turn of the speakers in there….

𝐀/𝐍: Oh ohhhh…..all the players just heard frontman and his girl fucking.

p.s Make sure to like and reblog!

© - Ang3l 🎀🧁 my work is not to be published on any other platforms without my consent.

[harmonysanreads]

Light flickers from your screen, a buzz signaling a successful connection nearly blanks your mind at the sight of a familiar face. Your instincts scramble to press the pulsating red icon but your efforts end prematurely, the receiver much too quick for your liking.

You respond with a stilted breath at the cheerful greeting of a voice now so familiar, your fingers clench around the sheets in a futile effort to ground yourself — every utterance that drip with honey nudging your carefully maintained composure to loosen, for reasons your bleary mind cannot comprehend.

“Helloooo? Don't tell me you missed me so much my voice alone left you speechless?” the man, your husband, laughs at his own impromptu jest.

You find your palm to be coated with a sheen of sweat once you unclench it, not a single neuron cooperating to formulate a coherent retort. Your body huddles farther in the heap of blankets by itself, the beginning of a burdened exhale weighs down on your heart.

“Could you come home for a bit?” you startle yourself, words escaping through the gaps in your restraint. But no panic seizes you like it should've, you stay stagnant in that cocoon of tranquil chaos flowing through every vein in your body and hope, by force of a desperation so foreign you hope that Phainon will notice.

Unable to bear any questionnaire you finally hang up the mistake of a call, but your fingers move no more to shut down the device altogether. You observe the way darkness crawls its way to your vision, each blink curtains your subconscious, dragging you away from the waking world.

What snatches you from that lure of artificial peace is a murmur of your name, the urgent embrace of a man whose eyes you can never read, whose words your mind battles to believe — even if he pledges to have uprooted them from his heart straight. You vaguely catch his scent, something about it pushes that long-held sigh to release.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Did anyone say something? My love, talk to me, please.” the hero keeps on questioning without pause, inspecting you as carefully as he can to soothe the paranoia eating away at his heart.

You simply rest your head against his chest, pushing yourself closer (if it's possible) just in time to catch the aching thump against his ribcage. “I’m just… tired.”

Your eyes feel too heavy to gauge his expression, but the abrupt silence tells you that something about your response has demanded that he use all his brain power.

“Do… you want to talk about it?” your shake of head turns to a nuzzle as his fingers slip between the strands of your hair. To your gratitude, Phainon stomps down all his questions and curiosity in favor of letting you soak in the present moment, catching you mid-fall and shielding you from anything that dares to agonize your haven.

Shadows drag their talons over your periphery once again, “These nightmares that chase you, these imbeciles that want to corrupt your happiness, this cursed world that can never treasure you the way I do — I… I could deal with them, you know. No, I will deal with them. All you need to do is give me an order. I beg of you, just order me and everything that has caused you pain will meet vicious destruction.”

A scintilla of Kephale's light slips through the blinds of the windows. For the first time, you close your eyes not to escape the gloom of this world, but to hide away from its glow.

[purplereina11]

The Perfect Shot Series You meet Alexia's Friends and Family

Word count: 4K

It was a vibrant Saturday night, and the city was alive with the pulsating beats of music and laughter, you were headed to a popular club downtown, where the energy was electric and the ambiance promised a fun night ahead.

As you walked into the club, the bass thumped rhythmically, pulsing through your chest as you take a deep breath, excitement and nerves swirling within you. The vibrant lights flickering in a kaleidoscope of colours that dances across the walls

Tonight is significant; you’re meeting Alexia’s friends for the first time, and while you’ve heard plenty about them, you can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingers in the back of your mind.

Carla, the designated moral support, stands beside you, her bright smile infectious. “You’re going to have a blast! Just be yourself,” she reassures you, her enthusiasm helping to ease your tension. You nod, though the fluttering in your stomach betrays your calm demeanour.

As you walk further into the club, the club was packed, filled with laughter and the chatter of friends enjoying the weekend. You head up to the VIP area and catch sight of Alexia, her laughter ringing out like music above the noise. She’s surrounded by her friends, their energy magnetic, and you can’t help but feel a swell of affection for her. Alexia catches your eye and beams at you, waving you over with a sense of warmth that instantly puts you at ease.

“Hey, you made it!” she exclaims, pulling you into one of her hugs that melts away your apprehension and envelops you completely. “Everyone, this is Y/N.” The group turns to look at you, and you offer a shy wave, your heart racing as they greet you with smiles and friendly nods. You’re dispersed ever so slightly, especially with Alexia by your side, her hand resting comfortably on your back.

“Nice to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you,” one of her friends, a bubbly girl with straight black hair, says enthusiastically. You smile back, feeling the warmth of their acceptance. The ice begins to break as Alexia joins the conversation, adding her own flair and teasing you playfully, which makes everyone laugh.

It was Carla however that flitted you around, introducing you to everyone and ensuring you felt welcome. The atmosphere was electric, filled with playful banter and the clinking of glasses. The night was filled with laughter, dancing, and stories. You felt a sense of belonging, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. Soon, you find yourself weaving through the crowd, the music enveloping you as you dance alongside Alexia and her friends. Laughter fills the air, and the worries you had before seem to dissipate. You joke and tease back, feeling the rhythm of the night seep into your bones. The atmosphere is electric, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so free.

As the night goes on, you and Alexia share playful glances, her eyes sparkling with joy. You can see how much she enjoys being with her friends, and it fills you with happiness to witness this side of her life. With every laugh and every dance move, you realise how lucky you are to be part of this moment. The music swells, and you grab Alexia’s hand, pulling her from her friends just to steal a moment just the two of you, your smiles matching perfectly as your eyes met. Together, you twirl and sway, losing yourselves in the rhythm, the world around you fading into a blur of lights and laughter. As Alexia pulled you closer, your laughter mingled with the music, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. Her lips finally found yours, her strict no public displays personal mantra subsided you smiled at the playful taunts and jeers from her friend’s, your arm came around her neck as your lips move in sync a feeling you’ll never tire of.

As the clock ticks on, rounds of drinks are shared, and stories flow freely. You find yourself immersed in conversations about travel, shared interests, and hilarious anecdotes that bring everyone closer together. You share a few of your own tales, feeling the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

You found a moment alone with Carla at the bar, Carla nudges you playfully. “See? You’re fitting right in!” she says with a grin. You chuckle, feeling the tension of the evening melt away.

“I was worried I wouldn’t” you admit, glancing at Alexia, who’s caught up in a lively conversation with her friends. You got a big smile seeing some more of Alexia’s friends turning up these from her team one in particular that made a bee line for you. Ona smacked into you as you held each other so tight, the last time Ona saw you she was leaving United for Barcelona when you were at your lowest she genuinely expected a phone call that the worst had happened to you not long after she left.

“You look so good” she said still holding on but her head coming back, the friends all looked confused but Alexia knowing your past struggles and the club you worked for knew the connection. “Honestly, you’re good?”

You nodded smiling softly, “I promise”

“Pinky?”

You laugh softly, feeling the weight of her words settle in. Pinky—a bond you both had made years ago, a little gesture that meant so much more. You extend your pinky finger to Ona, watching her smile grow as she links hers with yours, a silent promise passing between you two. The past was behind you now, but moments like this made everything feel like it was coming full circle.

“Pinky,” Ona repeats, nodding as if she too needed the confirmation. You squeeze her hand before pulling away, a warm, familiar feeling flooding over you.

Before you could say more, Alexia appears at your side, her presence grounding and familiar. She smiles at the two of you, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

“Everything okay?” she asks, her voice calm but filled with concern, knowing full well what that pinky swear meant between you and Ona.

You nod, the reassurance in your eyes enough for her to relax. “Yeah, everything’s perfect.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alexia says, her smile softening as she looks at you. The warmth from her gaze makes your chest tighten with affection. “It’s good to see you with your friends again. You’re not alone in this. You never were,” she adds, her voice low, sincere, and full of meaning.

You swallow hard, taking in her words, but all you can do is smile back at her. The music fades into the background, the laughter and chatter around you barely registering as you and Alexia share a quiet moment amidst the chaos of the club.

“I’m really glad you invited me here tonight,” you say, voice soft but genuine. "It means a lot."

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Alexia replies, her hand slipping into yours. The simple act of holding hands feels so natural, and for the first time tonight, you feel completely at ease.

Carla, noticing the moment between the two of you, grins and gives you a playful nudge. “I’ll let you two have your moment, but don’t forget we’re celebrating you tonight,” she teases, making her way back to the dance floor.

Alexia laughs, shaking her head. “She’s right. We’re here to have fun.”

The music picks up again, and before you know it, you’re back on the dance floor, moving to the beat with Alexia. The crowd parts slightly as the two of you lose yourselves in the rhythm. It’s as if the world has disappeared, and all that exists is the moment—the music, the movement, and the connection you share.

You feel like you’ve stepped into a place of belonging, with Alexia’s presence beside you, her laugh like music in the air. The worries of the past seem so distant, and in their place is only the joy of being in the now. The sparkle in her eyes matches the twinkling lights above, and you can’t help but smile as she twirls you, pulling you close again.

The night drifts on, full of dancing, laughter, and more playful glances exchanged between you and Alexia. As the night finally begins to wind down, the energy of the club still thrumming in the air, you take a deep breath, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. For the first time in a long while, you feel free. Not just free from the past, but free in the moment, in this beautiful, chaotic life.

When it’s time to say goodnight, you and Alexia find yourselves standing by the exit, the cool night air hitting your skin as the club doors swing open.

She turns to you with a soft smile. “Tonight was perfect. Thanks for being here.”

You return her smile, your heart warm with a feeling you can't quite describe. "No, thank you for inviting me,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "For everything also. For making me feel like I belong."

The look in her eyes softens, and for a moment, she doesn’t need to say anything more. The words are understood.

And as the two of you step out into the night, hand in hand, you know this night—this moment—will stay with you forever. It was in that walk, she gently opened up the conversation about you meeting her family, they’d been asking to meet you apparently.

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the quaint village in hues of orange and pink, as you prepared for what felt like one of the most important moments of your life: meeting Alexia’s family.

Alexia had warned you that her family primarily spoke Spanish, and while you had picked up a few phrases here and there, your fluency was limited at best. Yet, her enthusiasm for having you meet her family was contagious, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to connect with the people who meant the most to her.

As you approached her mother’s charming home, nestled among vibrant flowers and lush greenery, your heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Alexia, sensing your nerves, squeezed your hand gently, her smile reassuring. “Don’t worry! Just be yourself. They’ll love you,” she assured, her eyes shining with warmth.

The door swung open, and there stood Alexia’s mother, Eli, with a welcoming smile that could light up even the cloudiest of days. Behind her, you could see the rest of the family gathered, each face a blend of curiosity and delight. Alexia introduced you, her voice rich with affection, and as she spoke, you felt the warmth of their gazes envelop you.

“Hola! Bienvenido!” Eli exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident as she pulled you into a heartfelt embrace. The scent of her cooking wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. You managed a sheepish “Hola,” in return, feeling a bit out of your depth but grateful for the warmth of her welcome.

As the embrace broke, Eli stepped back and motioned for you to come inside. The home felt cozy and inviting, with its warm wooden floors and soft lighting that seemed to embrace you like a hug. The aroma of freshly baked bread, Paella, and something savoury that made your mouth water filled the air, making you feel instantly at home.

Alexia’s family was a mix of familiar faces you had heard so much about and new ones you’d yet to meet. They greeted you with open arms, their smiles genuine as they made an effort to include you despite the language barrier. Alexia’s Uncle, Ricard, gave you a firm handshake, his eyes kind and welcoming, while her younger Sister, Alba, cracked a shy smile and offered you a small wave. Despite your limited Spanish, you could feel the warmth in their presence.

A soft hand on the small of your back from Alexia guided you to a spot to take a seat as Eli asked Alexia what you’d want to drink, you found yourself bent over fussing a small chocolate brown chihuahua curious at your feet. “Coco” Her sister spoke as if telling him to come away. You rose your eyes and smiled a silent conversation that he was ok.

Her family were just as calm and gentle as Alexia was, they tried there best to speak English to you Alexia often had to correct what they said understating what they meant, but you appreciated the effort they were making. You even attempted a few words in Spanish when in the moment you knew the translation.

Eli called the family to the dinning room, the dinner table was spread with an array of delicious dishes, each one seemingly crafted with love. There was a traditional Spanish paella, a fresh salad with ripe tomatoes, and a selection of tapas that looked as beautiful as they smelled. Everyone gathered around the table, and Alexia pulled out a chair for you beside her, making sure you felt comfortable and near her.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself seated at a long wooden table, laden with an array of delicious dishes—paella, fresh seafood, and colorful salads. Alexia’s family began to converse animatedly as they ate, their voices rising and falling like a melodic rhythm. You watched, a mixture of admiration and confusion swirling within you. Their laughter filled the room, and while you couldn’t understand the majority of what was being said, the joy in their voices was unmistakable. The tone, the gestures, the way their faces lit up when they spoke of fond memories, told you everything you needed to know. There was no judgment, no impatience for your broken Spanish. They simply welcomed you into their world as if you’d been there all along.

You looked as Alba the other side of you gently touched your arm, “How long have you lived in Barcelona for?”

“Um, about 4 or 5 months now” You spoke as you heard soft chatter in the background.

Alexia caught your eye and smiled, her expression encouraging. It was then that she leaned closer, gently translating snippets of the conversation. “They’re asking about your hometown,” she whispered, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

With her guidance, you joined in, sharing tales of your life, your family, and the things you loved about your own culture. You gestured animatedly, your enthusiasm bridging the language gap. The family listened intently, their eyes sparkling with interest, the warmth of their acceptance wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed, with laughter filling the room. You couldn’t understand every word being spoken, Alexia sat close beside you, her hand brushing yours occasionally, offering little translations when she sensed you were unsure. "Don’t worry," she whispered with a playful grin. "You’re doing great. Trust me, you’re making a good impression."

Her words settled some of the tension you had been holding in your chest. You smiled back, the feeling of being accepted washing over you. But it wasn’t just her family making you feel this way—it was Alexia. The way she was so effortlessly in tune with you, making you feel like you belonged, even in this space where you were the newcomer.

As the evening wore on, Eli brought out a traditional dessert—flan, its creamy texture glistening under the soft light. The moment felt like a celebration, and as the sweet treat was passed around, you felt a growing sense of belonging. You watched as Alexia shared her family’s stories, her laughter echoing through the room, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly she navigated between languages, bringing you into the fold.

When it was your turn to express gratitude for the meal, you took a breath, determined to say something heartfelt, even if it was simple. “Gracias por la comida. Estaba delicioso,” you managed, your pronunciation shaky but sincere. The table fell silent for a moment before erupting in applause, their smiles wide with appreciation for your effort.

“¡Bravo!” Eli cheered, pride shining in her eyes. Her family showered you with compliments, their warmth enveloping you like a gentle embrace. In that moment, you realised that love transcended language; it was felt in smiles, in laughter, and in the shared experience around the table.

After dinner, the conversation turned to stories, and her family began sharing funny anecdotes about Alexia’s childhood. Her mother laughed, telling tales of mischievous things Alexia had done as a young girl, while Alexia herself chuckled, rolling her eyes but clearly enjoying the attention.

As the night drew to a close, you felt a sense of achievement and connection that you hadn’t anticipated. Alexia’s family may have spoken in a different tongue, but the language of love, acceptance, and joy was universal. You had not only survived the evening but had thrived in it, forging bonds that would last long after the night ended.

You were cuddled into Alexia for comfort, “Hey” you said softly placing a hand on her stomach before pointing when you gained her attention, “Is that your dad?” You looked to her as she nodded looking at the picture of her, her mum and Alba with him. “You look just like him” you spoke with a soft gaze and smile at the picture, “It’s crazy to me how you and Alba look so alike apart but when you’re together you can see the differences” You were oblivious to Alba and Eli watching the pair of you gently whispering to each other with a look of love and approval. “She’s the image of your mum and you your dad” You leant over Alexia ever so slightly to point, “It’s this bit” you motioned to his nose and mouth, “And you pull that face all the time”

“I do?” Alexia asked softly you turned your attention to her and nodded, you could see the sadness in her eyes it made you wonder what privately what she thought of your distance with your family. When she’d probably give anything just to see her father one more time.

When the time came to say goodbye, Eli pulled you into another warm embrace, whispering something in Spanish that you couldn’t quite catch. Alexia translated, her voice soft and filled with affection: “She says you are now part of the family.”

Those words wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace, and as you left their home, hand in hand with Alexia, you felt lighter, as if the weight of your initial fears had lifted. You had navigated a potentially daunting experience and emerged not just intact, but enriched, with a newfound understanding that love knows no boundaries, and that family is a bond that can be felt in any language.

It made you miss yours.

Alexia’s hand was warm in yours, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment as you waited for Alba who you were staying with this evening so you both could have a drink with the family.

“I’m so glad you were here tonight,” Alexia murmured, squeezing your hand. “My family… I know they’re not easy to get used to, but I’m really happy you fit right in.”

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter at her words. “I’m glad I came. I feel like I’m finally getting to know a side of you that’s been waiting for me.”

Alexia’s smile softened, her gaze tender. “Well, you’re definitely a part of it now. My family… they’re not just anyone to me, and having you with me tonight, it just felt like the right thing.” Alexia connected her lips you almost dropped her hand to put it to her fact but before you could, the sound of footsteps echoed behind you. Turning, you saw Alba walking toward you both, her keys in hand and a mischievous grin on her face.

“You two ready to head out?” she asked, her tone light but full of energy. “It’s getting late, its not far to walk?”

Alexia looked over at you, her eyes a mix of amusement and affection. “You cool with that?”

You nodded quickly, feeling a little relief at the idea of getting some fresh air after such an emotional evening. “I’d love that, actually, nice little walk.

Alba beamed, clearly excited by the prospect of having you both at her apartment for the night. “Perfect!”

With that, the three of you made your way, and soon enough, you were on your way to Alba’s apartment. The streets outside were quieter now, the nightlife settling down as the city began to unwind from the chaotic energy of the evening. The walk was fairly quick, and the warmth from Alexia’s presence beside you keeping you from realising the chill in the air.

As you arrived at Alba’s apartment, she unlocked the door with a flick of her wrist, and the space was immediately inviting. The soft lights, the cozy furnishings, and the overall calmness of the apartment made it feel like the perfect place to settle into after a whirlwind night.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Alba teased as she kicked off her shoes and moved to the kitchen. “Feel free to make yourself at home Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how natural it all felt. Alba wasn’t just welcoming you; she was making you feel like part of the family in the most effortless way possible. The way she had welcomed you in, teasing and laughing, made you feel at ease almost instantly.

Alexia walked over to the couch, pulling you gently with her. “I’ll grab you some blankets. We can sleep here, okay?”

You nodded, grateful for the warmth and comfort of the moment. As Alexia moved to help Alba set up the living area, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the day’s emotions settle into your bones. It was a good kind of exhaustion, the kind that comes from feeling truly connected to the people in your life.

Once you were settled in, Alexia returned to sit next to you on the couch, her gaze soft as she met your eyes.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It felt like… everything went so perfectly.”

You leaned into her slightly, your voice matching her quiet tone. “Me too. I feel like I’m finally part of something. Part of you, your family, they were so welcoming.”

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are,” she said softly. “And you always will be.”

The world outside felt distant now, the noise of the night fading into the background as the quiet of the apartment settled in around you. You were here, with Alexia, with Alba, in this cozy, comforting space—and for the first time in a long time, you felt completely at peace.

As the night wore on, the three of you shared stories and laughter, the light chatter filling the room. Alba only came to say goodnight got comfy and was yet to leave. With Alba’s easygoing energy and Alexia’s warmth beside you, you felt like you had found your place. The night was peaceful, and with Alexia and Alba by your side, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging that you hadn’t known in a long time.

When the time came to sleep, you found yourself curled up in the makeshift bed on the sofa Alexia had made for you both, the comforting thought of the people around you making it easy to drift off into a peaceful slumber. You knew the night had marked something significant—not just for your relationship with Alexia, but for how you were beginning to truly feel a part of the life she had built.

Tomorrow would bring new adventures, new moments to share, but for now, you were content, knowing that you were right where you were meant to be.

[nesepte]

Hundred Steps | Jaehyun

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem! reader

Genre: soft jaehyun, fluff (he is cute in this), very mild angst, unsaid words, cozy, vinyl record store, music(al), rich jaehyun, but very humble jaehyun, acts of service love language jaehyun, small town, small shop owner, shop assistant jaehyun, first kiss, first crush, coming of age (?), senior jaehyun. Word Count: 6.5k words

A/n: Happy Jaehyun day, my loves! Here is the full fic. This is probably the sweetest fanfic I have ever written. Hope you find it so too! xD

Taglist: @yewshi @kanekisheart @cigsaftersuh

The air was warm against your cheek. The summer had ended but the heat lingered like a stubborn heart refusing to see reason. In front of you beyond the wrought iron gates, stretched the steps to your new life but you stood frozen in place.

Mind can be so fickle, and this restless heart even more so. You had waited your entire life to leave your hometown and move to the city. You had dreamed of this college every night and here it was, ready to welcome you.

But you turned your gaze behind— the city quiet from this height. Beyond the mountains in the distance, amidst the swirling roads that led to nowhere, your eyes searched for him.

Jaehyun…

It was two weeks after your high school graduation. You were working late in your father’s store for vinyl records. Just a few minutes before closing time you heard the ding of the tiny bell fixed atop the door. He stumbled in, trying to frantically shut his umbrella which was dripping onto the carpeted floor. His brown pants were soaked at the bottom and his white shirt was wrinkled at the joints.

‘That’s alright,’ you said and he looked up. Despite the umbrella, his hair was slightly damp and the tip of his nose was red. ‘We are closing soon,’ you told him. ‘If you want to browse, I suggest you come back tomorrow morning.’

His curious eyes darted from you to the aisle behind him. ‘Where is...?’

‘Are you looking for my dad?’ you asked, trying to keep your tone professional. ‘He fractured his leg. I’ll be taking care of the shop in his absence.’

He finally managed to close his umbrella and left it by the window.

‘Right,’ he said, walking into the glow of the dim lamp hanging from the ceiling above the counter. This close, you noticed that his cheeks were red too but it wasn’t particularly cold out that night.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he said, ‘but by any chance did he mention any Beatles record on hold?’

‘The Beatles…’ you mumbled to yourself and ducked behind the counter to check the cabinets. At the very top, wrapped neatly in a clear film was the record and stuck to it was a post-it that had the word paid written in block letters and a name beside it.

‘Jung…’ you whispered, rising back to your feet to find the light, ‘…Jaehyun.’

It took you a moment to place the name in your head, and when you did, you blurted out, ‘It’s you!’ You looked up at him. ‘You are Jung Jaehyun?!’

Your raised voice had startled him but he replied as even as before, pressing his lips together. ‘That’s correct,’ he said.

‘Get out,’ you gritted out.

‘W-What?’

His blank, ignorant eyes angered you even more.

‘Do you have any idea what you put my father through?’ you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty shop. ‘You have been making these insane demands for those godforsaken rare records ever since you stepped foot into our store!’

You could feel your face heating up, your heart pulsating inside your throat. It was a bad look— shouting at a customer, but you could not stop the words from flowing out.

‘Do you know how difficult it is for my father to find them?! It’s because of you that he had an accident and fractured his leg. He was out in the rain to get your stupid record!’

‘I…’ He stared at you, mouth agape and his face drained of colour. He had shrunk under your gaze somehow. ‘I… I had no idea.’

‘Of course, you didn’t!’ you spat back, the thin record shaking between your trembling fingers. ‘All you rich kids care about is your own convenience!’

‘That’s a harsh judgement to make,’ he returned, though not unkindly.

‘Harsh?’ You let out a mirthless laugh. You could not believe your own anger. The bulb over the counter flickered like a dull firework as the record player in the corner switched to the next song.

‘I’ll tell you what’s harsh. All his life, my father has worked tirelessly in this shop to raise me alone and I have done nothing but kept my nose buried in books so I could get into the best university in Seoul.’

You sighed, pressing your palm to your forehead to control the wretched tears that were pricking the corner of your eyes.

‘This was my last summer before college. My last chance to taste freedom and it’s ruined because of you! I am stuck in this shop, working all day. The boxes are heavy, the shelves are high. I don’t know any of the customers and all they really do is ask about my dad. I haven’t even eaten all day but I can’t complain to anyone without looking like an ungrateful brat!’

There was more you wanted to say but you had no breath left in you. Besides, you had embarrassed yourself enough and you couldn’t risk crying in front of him.

‘Just take this and leave.’ You held out the record to him.

His hand reached out immediately but stopped just centimetres from the edge.

‘Take it,’ you repeated, hiding the hitch in your voice. You did not rush his hesitation— there was no other customer in the shop waiting anyway. At last, when he closed his fingers over the record, you let the rest of your anger flow out of you with it.

‘What?’ you asked. He was still standing at the counter, staring at you. Maybe you had been too harsh but your anger didn’t allow any sympathy.

‘I can pay the hospital bill,’ he mumbled, clutching the record tightly in his hands.

‘There is no need,’ you replied. You could not let your pride take another hit after making a complete fool out of yourself in front of a complete stranger. ‘Just… don’t come back here again.’

You regretted saying it the moment the words left your lips.

When you had first learned of Jaehyun through your father, you had imagined a stoic, old man in his 50s, dressed in an unnecessarily expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a flashy gold chain around his neck. He definitely seemed the kind with his incessant demands for particularly hard-to-find, expensive records. He liked nothing in the shop.

Pretentious bastard, you had called him.

But standing in front of you was a boy, who didn’t look much older than you. He was careful with the record while stowing it away in his bag, holding it delicately by the edges. Despite your outburst, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that you recognized all too well— your father had it too whenever he got his hands on a new record.

In the wake of your receding anger, you saw clearly how frightened you had made him but he did not protest again. Without another word, he left, stopping only for a moment at the door but he did not speak whatever it was he wanted to say.

However, that was not the end. He came back— sooner than you had expected.

The next morning was busier than usual. You had to receive a new consignment and the truck that came with the boxes did as little as unload them right on the street in front of the store.

The sun was already up and you were sweating through your shirt by the time you had dragged the third carton inside amidst the sea of cursing passersby tripping over them.

Jaehyun found you sitting on the pavement, exhausted and on the verge of tears again. You had your head between your palms and was about to keel over from your own weight when he tapped you on your shoulder.

You looked up at him, squinting at his silhouette against the sun.

‘Didn’t I tell you not to come back here?’ you said, unable to keep the sharpness out of your tone.

He nodded, his expression unchanged. His eyes raked over the mess you had made on the street behind you.

‘What?’ This time you actually felt the tears fall out of your eyes but he didn’t startle. Instead, he sat down beside you.

‘What are you doing—’

He reached into his bag and produced a sandwich from it. It was homemade, you could tell. He peeled the wrapper back and offered it to you.

‘You haven’t eaten, have you?’ he said.

It was your turn to stare at him, wide-eyed. ‘I— don’t understand…’

‘I made you a sandwich.’

He had it so simply as if that was the most natural thing in the world. He had that air about him. You had mistaken it for confidence but Jaehyun was never too proud. He was just… him. You were dumbstruck and humbled at the same time. There were tears in your eyes again but you weren’t crying anymore.

You scoffed instead, amused. There were people still around you, cussing while stumbling through the maze of boxes; the sun was still shining— brighter and hotter; the drains smelled foul from last night’s rain and here was this boy, sitting on a hot pavement beside you with a godforsaken sandwich in his hand because you had told him last night that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. But the most absurd thing of all was when you actually took it from his hand and ate it, right there on the street.

He waited patiently beside you, not saying a word. He only had one sandwich too— you realized it after finishing it. He asked for the wrapper and shoved it in his bag, then got up and offered you his hand.

‘Let me help you,’ he said.

‘With the boxes?’ you asked.

‘In the shop,’ he replied.

His unwavering gaze was steady on you and he inhaled before speaking. ‘I can be your shop assistant. You do not have to pay me,’ he added before you could protest.

‘You want to work here?’

He nodded his head, his eager eyes searching your face for an answer you weren’t quite sure of yourself yet. For a moment, you saw it— behind the façade of his coolness— his guilt. You did not want to be pitied but he seemed more earnest than arrogant.

‘Do you not have a job?’ you asked.

‘I am in college.’

‘No summer internship?’ You could not help the derision that seeped into your words. And he picked up on it too but he did not budge.

‘It’s only my second year.’

‘I can’t pay you,’ you said in a final attempt to dissuade him.

‘I didn’t ask for money,’ he replied in the same breath.

‘Right… the shop opens at 10 and closes at 9 but you have to report an hour early to help me clean it. Will that be alright?’

‘Yes,’ he replied.

You could not tell your father about him. Jaehyun was a stranger and the shop never had any assistants before. But you needed the help, and he was willing even if it was for his own atonement.

‘So, am I hired?’ he asked.

Sighing, you took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

‘Get those cartons inside,’ you ordered your new assistant walking inside the store.

His reply came after a pause. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

That is how Jaehyun came to work at your store.

Every morning, he was there waiting in front of the shop before you arrived. His satchel over his shoulder and a homemade sandwich in his hand that he gave to you. He listened to what you said without question. When you told him to vacuum the floor, he did. On the mornings you told him to wipe the windows clean, he did. He steered clear of the records. Perhaps he was afraid he would break them. But he did not help you with dusting nor with arranging the shelves.

He was rich, you had realized that much but, in the shop, he acted no more than an errand boy. From carrying the boxes to special deliveries— he did them all.

During lunchtime, you took turns to eat in the backroom while the other manned the counter. In the evenings, he got you coffee from across the street and offered to tally the register while you rested.

You did not speak much, nor did you learn anything about each other that was not necessary, not until that night—

It was past 9 pm. You had closed the shop. Jaehyun was folding the cartons in the backroom and you were shelving the scattered records back in their places. You were almost done too, save for one record that was supposed to go on the top shelf of the closet in the back. You jumped up from your toes to fling it into the thin gap but not even its edge made it on to the shelf.

It's useless, you sighed to yourself after another failed attempt But just as you turned around to reach for the ladder, you bumped into his chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ he quickly straightened but did not move away. His eyes landed on the record in your hand then up at the open shelf.

‘Let me,’ he said and waited.

When you nodded, his fingers closed over the edge. He pulled it from your grip but kept standing in place. You stood there with him, confused.

‘Uh…’ The tip of his nose turned red. Perhaps the A/C was too cold, you thought at first but it was when he leaned forward that you realized why he was waiting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you cursed inward, holding your breath as you shrunk under him against the shelves. The blush on his face creeped up your cheeks, your breath drained out of you as he pressed further.

But Jaehyun braced himself against the edge and swiftly placed the record back onto the shelf, not even letting the hem of his shirt touch you. You had never realized how much taller he was than you, but then again, you had never bothered to look before.

You were looking then, up at him and back at his face when he found his footing again. He had an earphone in his right ear. You could hear the faint music leaking out of it in the sudden silence that had enveloped you both.

‘What are you listening to?’ you asked, surprised at the strangeness of your own voice.

He took the earphone out and held it out in front of you. ‘Want to listen?’

You nodded but he walked down the aisle and out of sight. Several seconds later, you heard the soft crinkling of a plastic film and the distinct sound of a record being pulled out of its case. You waited as he dropped the pin over it and the song reached you.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Unexpectedly, he found you on the floor again as the notes of the first chorus filled the empty shop. He sat beside you, just as naturally as he had done the first time.

When the record player cracked to a halt, he turned to you. He did not speak, not out loud at least, but you could make out his words. So, when the next night came, you put on a new record in the player— With You by Harrison Storm.

The night after that, he replied and the one after that, you replied to his reply. Every night, after you flipped the sign in the window to closed, you both found a song for each other. To his Dandelion you replied with Sofia. For his Laufey, you had Lana Del Rey. For your Hozier, he had Artic Monkeys.

You sat beside each other on the same spot tucked between the shelves, listening to your conversation echo against the walls. It was easy to slip through that crack in time that you had opened and enter that small pocket of dimensionless space, save for the music.

He tapped his foot against the floor when you replied to his Home with Nancy Mulligan and danced on the night you had played Something Just Like This to his question, Mystery of Love.

It was strange how you knew nothing about Jaehyun yet you had never known anybody that intimately before.

But the summer was ending. In a blink of an eye, three months had passed. You had started receiving emails and thick letters from your college about orientation, dorm rooms, classes and credits. And two days ago, you had taken your father to the hospital to get his cast removed. He was going to come back to the store; you were going to leave for college and Jaehyun… you didn’t even know where he was going to go or whether you would see him again.

You fell asleep on the counter that night after closing the shop. It was humid outside and the A/C was on full blast. It was a restless sleep and you must have been shivering because you felt him drape his outer shirt over you. It smelled of him— warm and sweet, and you groaned, suddenly wanting more. You opened your eyes slowly. He was right there, his face in front of you but your gaze did not surprise him.

He reached out and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. His touch was so light that you thought you were still dreaming, but his warm breath over your lips was evidence enough. His dazed eyes pulled you in and for a brief moment you thought he was going to lean in but when you blinked up from his lips again, he gulped and shook his head.

‘Uh…’ You straightened up too, his shirt falling to the floor behind you. You were sweating beneath your collar, a familiar flush on your face.

‘It’s your turn to pick a song,’ he mumbled. Perhaps he did not know what to say either.

‘R-Right…’

You leafed through the records to find your words. A conversation had ended last night so it was your turn to begin anew. But all you could really think of was Jaehyun… and you, and what if you hadn’t met him like you had. What if you had met him in college. He would have been a senior and you, like every other girl in his class, would have had a crush on him. Then, one day, after gathering all your courage, you would have asked him out. Perhaps he would have said yes, and instead of helping you around the shop, he would have done all those small things for you as your boyfriend.

You found him at your spot on the floor after putting the song on the record player— Those Eyes by New West.

Three minutes and forty seconds. It’s not long, not by any measure, but it was enough for you to tell him what you could not speak that night. You couldn’t recall how long you sat beside him, silently, after the song was over. You didn’t want to leave, not yet.

Then it struck you.

‘Do you want to go on a trip with me?’ you asked, keeping your eagerness at bay.

‘A trip?’

‘It’s just to get a record from the next town. Don’t say it,’ you warned, expecting a taunt about it but it never came. Instead, he smiled his dimpled smile and nodded his head.

‘We’ll have to take the bus,’ you told him, testing his resolve.

‘Alright.’ He nodded his head.

‘We will have to leave at 5 am.’

‘Okay.’

‘You might get bored,’ you told him.

He paused— the dimples on his cheeks deepened. ‘Then let’s get bored together.’

The morning was silent and still blue. You reached the bus stop before Jaehyun, who came a minute after. There was no sleep in his eyes, nor any hint of exhaustion. If anything, he looked as lively as the birds singing in the trees behind you.

‘Did you walk here?’ you asked.

‘It wasn’t that far,’ he replied and you realised you didn’t even know where he lived.

‘What’s that for?’ You pointed at the film camera that was hung around his neck.

‘Oh, this is…’ He looked down at the camera, running a hand through his hair. ‘In case I find something beautiful today.’

You and Jaehyun sat near the end of the bus— him by the aisle and you at the window seat. The ride was short, or so it felt (you fell asleep quickly into it and woke up when the sun was up and your destination was two stops away). If he was bored, he didn’t complain, nor did you feel him stir beside you.

‘Here,’ he said, taking out a wrapped sandwich and a small box of chocolate milk from his bag. ‘Why are you smiling?’

You took the sandwich from his hand and unwrapped it. ‘Why do you bring me a sandwich every day?’ You knew the answer already but you wanted him to say it.

There was a shy smile on his face and he fumbled before speaking. ‘That night…’ he started, ‘you said you hadn’t eaten all day.’

You were grateful that he turned his pointed gaze away from you because you could feel your face heating up. Pressing his lips together, he offered you the carton of milk with both hands.

‘I don’t like chocolate milk,’ you lied and pushed the box towards him. ‘Why don’t you finish this?’

He sighed, looking disappointed but took the box nonetheless.

In the soft light of the morning sun, even the town’s chaos seemed peaceful. Amidst the sudden swarm of running children, Jaehyun pulled you close by the elbow— you were about to bump into a child, who was scampering to find his way around your legs.

‘Do you know where to go?’ he asked.

‘Hm?’ It was hard to focus when he was that close to you.

‘The way to the shop…’ he repeated.

‘Right,’ you said, pulling away to conceal the beat of your thumping heart. ‘Straight down this road and right at the intersection.’

‘Alright then,’ he said, cheerily, ‘lead the way.’

The shops were only just waking up, delivery trucks lining the streets. In the distance, you could hear the ocean, calm that morning except for the occasional thrash of the waves which marked its presence.

‘Where do you live?’ you blurted out without thinking. The question must have caught him off-guard too. He jerked his head in your direction, pausing for a bit before answering.

‘My parents’ home is in our town,’ he said. ‘But I go to college in Seoul.’

‘Oh, which one?’ you asked. ‘My university is also in Seoul.’

‘I know,’ he replied but did not answer your question.

You could see the ocean in the distance now, merging into the sky beyond the intersection. The cars looked as if floating on water as they sped off in either direction.

‘I am sorry,’ you said.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘For shouting at you that night.’

‘It’s alright.’ He shrugged. ‘If someone was making my father work that much, I would have been angry too.’

That was Jaehyun— easy and uncomplicated. He had managed to put your mind at ease so simply that he made you question your own apology. You nodded, not sure whether grateful or humbled but whatever it was, you knew it was real, the feeling anchoring itself inside your heart.

When you reached the store, he stayed outside. The store owner had already laid the record out for you. It was a rare 12-inch record wrapped in a gatefold sleeve. You replayed your father’s instructions in your head as you picked it up for inspection. You held it up to the sun for signs of scratches or scruffs along the fine grooves. There were none. The label was authentic and so were the markings at the back.

You lowered the record and your gaze fell on Jaehyun, standing outside the store window. He had his hand on his camera and his eyes on you. The sun must have been burning his back— he was standing so still but he did not move.

You jerked your chin up in question but he shook his head and turned away. You had seen that look before on him before, several times in the last three months. It was either in those early hours of morning when he would report to work or later during the slow evenings just before closing time. You had never questioned it. It wasn’t your place. But you had realized as much that it was always when he was staring at you.

‘Did you get it?’ Jaehyun asked once you were outside.

‘Hm,’ you replied, tapping your bag and sighed, ‘We still have the afternoon to kill before the evening bus.’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘There is a lighthouse here,’ you said. ‘Do you want to go see it?’

‘Yes,’ he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

You retraced your steps back to the intersection and turned left this time, towards the sea and to the lighthouse that stood down the stony promenade. It was painted in striking red with a set of staircases leading up to the cabin at the top. The sea behind it was a stark blue in contrast, endlessly spilling over the horizon.

You sat on the edge of the walkway, your feet dangling over the breakwater rocks below you. You leaned back on your palms and breathed a sigh. The clouds overhead had overshadowed the sun and the salty wind had turned cold.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked.

Jaehyun had torn a page from a notebook in his backpack and was folding it up into a shape.

‘Making a boat,’ he replied with a child-like giggle.

‘A boat?’ You laughed. ‘For the ocean?’

‘Mhm.’ He had his eyes set on the paper he had laid out beside him. ‘See?’ he chimed up, holding the paper boat up to your face. ‘But the question is whether it will reach the ocean or not.’

The rocks were blocking the water and the aim had to be perfect. You got up with him, taking a step back to witness what you could already tell would be a failed venture. He angled the front of the boat towards the water like a plane and shot it like a dart towards it only for it to land right in front of your feet.

‘Here, let me try,’ you said and picked it up. You held it from the bottom and aimed it further away. It flew a few inches but landed in a small crevice between the boulders below.

‘Jaehyun!’ You shrieked.

Jaehyun had practically flung himself down the pavement to the slippery rocks, his hands still holding onto the edge.

‘Careful…’

‘I am fine,’ he shouted back above the sound of the waves just a few metres away from him.

‘Just throw the boat from there,’ you shouted back as you saw him scrambling back up to you with the boat still in his hand.

‘What’s the fun in that?’

‘You are insane, you know that?’

He smiled and shrugged.

The boat was crumpled beyond hope. With a quiet sigh, Jaehyun tore another page and made a longer, sleeker shape this time only to fail again. You tried different angles, shapes, even places. At one point, Jaehyun even took a running start and hurled the boat forward, but it always fell short of the shoreline, sometimes by mere inches.

By afternoon, a few children returning from school had joined your futile pursuit. While you kept folding new boats, you could hear Jaehyun behind you— scolding them in an attempt to keep them away from the edge.

At last, exhausted, you both plopped down.

‘Should we just give up?’ you asked. The wind wasn’t in your favour and the clouds were shifting again. You saw his shoulders slump further with a sigh as his gaze fell over the pile of the failed paper boats.

‘You look disappointed,’ you remarked.

You wanted to laugh and perhaps you did too because his dejected frown quickly twisted into an offended scowl. Why was he so disappointed over a silly boat. That boy really was mad. And, maybe you were too, because before you even realized it, you were grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

‘Come on, get up,’ you said, picking out the very first boat he had made from the pile. ‘We are going to get your damn boat into the water.’

The paper had dried hard but it was not torn. If it landed correctly, it could still float. You straightened out its crumpled edges, making the perfect cone at the top to balance its weight and took the position at the edge.

‘Careful.’ He tightened his grip on your hand.

‘I’m fine,’ you told him. ‘Just hold on tightly me.’

He braced his foot against yours as you leaned forward with his support. His fingers stiffened and his other hand grasped your elbow tightly but he gave you enough room to safely incline yourself over the rocks.

‘A little more.’

It took him a second to loosen his hold to let you lean further over the edge. You were focused on the angle, your eyes fixed on the pattern of the crashing waves. You counted the seconds in between. One more. You had to wait for just one more.

‘Now,’ you said. Jaehyun let go of your hand. You shot the boat towards the receding tide in the fraction of a second before he yanked you back into his arms.

This time the ocean accepted it, pulling the little devil inwards with its current.

‘It’s in the water,’ he said.

You had expected more of a celebration after the hours you both had spent on it. But perhaps the feel of his pounding heart beneath your palm was evidence enough of his triumph and the smile on his face was your reward.

‘It’s in the water,’ you echoed, amused at your own joy.

The evening bus was right on schedule and you barely made it back to the stop in time. The sun was setting in the distance. It was time to go back. You glanced back, as if hoping you could catch a final glimpse of the boat that you’d set afloat in the ocean together but it was gone.

The bus was packed yet quieter somehow. Jaehyun pulled a juice box from his bag for you and as you sipped on the bitter taste of farewell, your eyes swelled with tears. This really was the end— the last night of the dream that the summer had pulled you into.

Tomorrow, Jaehyun would be gone.

And so, you held on, as tightly as you could. You closed your eyes and let the setting sun lull you into one final sleep. He was still there, and you weren’t going to let tomorrow ruin that.

‘It is your turn to pick the song tonight,’ you turned to him.

His dazed eyes focused on yours then took out the earphones from his bag and gave one of them to you. It took him a while to find the song on his phone.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Why did he choose that song? It was the very first you had both listened to together. Perhaps that was his closure.

It was still early when you reached your town but the bus stop was empty save for the passengers who got down with you. Jaehyun had offered to walk you back to your house but you had refused.

You pointed to the camera around his neck. ‘You didn’t take any pictures today.’

He remained silent, but you could see his mind working behind his eyes. He was perfectly still but he seemed restless somehow and you couldn’t tell why the same impatience was seeping into you as well.

‘Didn’t find anything beautiful to click?’ You tried to break the tension his silence had caused. The street lamp above you flickered for a brief moment before settling down.

‘I did,’ he said at last, his voice not above a whisper but his smile had returned— the shy one. In the same breath, he raised the camera to his eyes and snapped a picture of you.

You are not sure how long you stood there, arrested in place by the flash but you were sure of one thing then— you had to ask him the question that had been poking at you since last night.

‘Will I see you again?’

His relaxed smile irked you. Why was he so calm?

Silently, he unhooked the chain that he wore around his neck. You had seen it before but as he pulled it away, you saw a pendant hanging at the end. It was a small silver record complete with its grooves.

He took your hand and placed it in your palm, closing your fingers over it. He leaned in close, as if whispering a secret to you.

‘On the day you climb a hundred steps, close your eyes, hold out this pendant in front of you and say my name. That’s when you’ll see me again.’

You looked up at him, confused, but he had already let go of your hand.

‘Promise me, you will remember this,’ he said. He was pulling away but his eager eyes were waiting for your answer. ‘Promise me.’

‘I will,’ you managed before he left.

That was two weeks ago and the last time you saw Jaehyun.

Nothing had moved around you— the wrought iron gates still stood; the people still walked by. The air was still warm and the college was still waiting.

Pulling the strap of your bag up your shoulder, you dragged your gaze back to your new life. One step after the other, you walked till you reached the base of a steep climb.

This entrance was reserved for freshmen. For a moment you wondered whether it was some sort of a prank set up by the seniors because in front of you was a seemingly endless set of steps stretching to a top you couldn’t even see from where you stood.

Just then, a boy next to you groaned. ‘Why are there a hundred steps here?’

You heard a breathy laugh next. ‘Funny you say this. It’s exactly a hundred steps here.’

A hundred steps…

You had started climbing the steps alongside them, your ears perked up at their conversation.

‘What do you mean?’ the first one asked.

‘It’s tradition,’ the other one replied, catching up to him. ‘Freshmen are supposed to climb a hundred steps on their first day of college for good luck.’

‘What did you just say?’ You suddenly turned to them, making them jump up.

The two boys exchanged a confused glance before looking back at you.

‘I am sorry,’ you quickly added, seeing their startled expression. ‘The steps…’

The shorter one nodded his head. ‘Yes, it’s a freshmen tradition—’

‘No,’ you cut him off. ‘Are there exactly hundred steps on this staircase?’

‘Y-Yes,’ he stammered.

Jaehyun’s words rushed to the front of your mind— on the day you climb a hundred steps…

It was the strangest thing that he had said that night. You had turned his words over in your head a thousand times, wondering if you had misheard him or missed something between the lines.

But here they were, quite literally, a hundred steps in front of you.

Heart hammering inside your chest, you quickly counted the steps you had already climbed— 24— before turning around and breaking into a run. You could feel the pendant burn inside your pocket as you rushed up the stairs, two at a time.

Your legs burned with the strain it took to push yourself up the incline, each step more demanding than the last.

This is ridiculous, you thought. This isn’t a fairytale. How would he even know about this.

But the rising questions melted away in the face of what was pulling you up.

Your breaths turned into short gasps, making your pounding heart thud against your ears, drowning out everything else. Your lungs ached for air, but you did not stop. If he was really waiting at the top, you didn’t want him to wait for too long.

One after the other, you kept going, slower when you couldn’t anymore, but not stopping until the top finally came into view.

Still panting, you reached for the pendant in your pocket, your other hand pressing against the stitch in your stomach. The silver record dangled from the chain as you held it out in front of you, the tiny grooves reflecting the sunlight.

You closed your eyes, and whispered his name like a prayer— it felt like magic anyway.

‘Jaehyun.’

The leaves above you rustled in the soft wind that had caught you. The birds were chirping too. There was a dull chatter somewhere in the distance and the soft curses of the students asking you to move. But you could not bring yourself to open your eyes yet.

God, this is so stupid. You were sure you looked deranged to others. The possibility crossed your mind too. What if he had meant his words to be something else. What if you had not paid close attention to what he had said. Ugh. Why couldn’t he have just said what he wanted to?!

But then you heard it— him.

‘What took you so long?’

You smiled first, then opened your eyes. He was standing right before you, his dimples etched on his cheeks. His hand closed over yours, pulling the pendant to himself, and you with it.

‘I am sorry, I am late,’ you said.

There he was, your senior in college, the dream within your grasp. Just like every other girl in his class must have, you had a crush on him too.

‘Do you…’ The words caught in your throat. The fantasy was easier than reality. But you had not just climbed a hundred steps to shy away.

‘What is it?’

Gathering all the courage in your heart, you asked, ‘Do you want to get a cup of coffee?’

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling like they did the first time you had seen him. His smile grew wider barely leaving space for the dimples on his cheeks. He wrapped his arm around your waist, hesitantly at first then bolder when you followed his lead. The tip of his nose had turned red but his bashful gaze remained fixed on you. He held your face in his hands and pressed his lips over yours ever so sweetly like he had been waiting to do so for an eternity.

‘I would love to,’ he whispered and kissed you again.

The End.

[littlest-w01f]

After party

Azriel x Reader

For @starfallweek [hosted by: @azsazz and @writingsbychlo]

Starfall Week 2025 Masterlist

Day 6 - Starfall this year was a costume party and now Characters A and B can't find one another.

Summary: On the night of Starfall, the party didn't end until the sun came up, and after a nasty break up your sisters dragged you out to party with the rest of the Inner Circle. You end up running into someone whose it.

Cw: Dark!Az, he mad mad, jealous Az, shadowplay, choking, I think by far the most Azriel smut I've written... Smut 18+ MDNI

a/n: Long fic WOOHOOO, strap in and strap on! (would fit better if there *was* pegging involved but still it has Azriel's dick in it so it had to be at least that big)

The pulsating beats of the music thrummed through your body as you stepped into Rita's, your sisters flanking you on either side. Twinkling lights cast a warm glow over the busy crowd, your faces illuminated by flashes of colour from the mirrored disco ball above. The air was thick with the mingled scents of expensive perfume, sweat, and something more primal.

"You needed this," Feyre said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. She was dressed as an angel, her shapeshifting powers giving her a way to form pure white feathered wings, and Rhysand was somewhere getting drinks for her, dressed as a dark devil to compliment her. "To get out, have some fun. Forget about him."

Nesta nodded, humming in agreement, her lips curving into a small smile at her sister's words. You knew they were right, after everything that had happened, you desperately needed a night out. Nesta was already snatched away by Cassian, dressed as old warriors of legends, lost in the music.

Elain, dressed like a walking garden, was nursing her drink and sitting by, even though such parties weren't her scene she was with the shadow twins, talking and having a laugh.

You wore an outfit that looked like it was made of life itself, the shimmering fabric seemed to pulse with an inner light, leaves and vines twisting around your curves as you moved. The skirt you wore flared at your thighs, the corsetted top barely covering your curves. Your hair had white tinsels in it, styled up in a high pony, a mask over your face, fully covering you. You found it hilarious, dressing like life, given your powers. Nesta had convinced you to dress slutty to "catch a better male for the night" as she put it, there was plenty blushing involved on your part as she went into detail about the importance of a matching set of lace underneath.

While you stood there, amidst the pulsing throng of bodies, dancing your heart out for the past hour or so, having a little too much to drink, you couldn't recall, the music seeming to flow through your very veins, you felt a sudden presence behind you. Strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against a firm chest. You could feel the heat radiating off the body pressed so close to yours.

"I must say, that costume is... Captivating." A low, heavy voice murmured in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Life itself couldn't possibly be more beautiful than you look tonight."

You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of a someone covered in darkness, he wore a cloak over his head. Suriel? A scythe in hand. Death. How poetic.

You felt a thrill run through you at the dark stranger's bold touch and flattering words. There was something magnetic about his mysterious aura, something familiar too, the way his strong hands held you possessively. When you glimpsed his cloaked form and the ominous scythe, a frisson of excitement mixed with apprehension danced along your nerves.

The mysterious male in the death costume spun you around to face him fully, one large hand still resting possessively on your hip. Up close, you realised you could truly not see his face, as if the darkness that surrounded him made him appear headless. His other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your cheek, leather glove-covered fingertips grazing your skin and leaving tingles in their wake.

"I've been watching you all evening," He murmured, his deep voice resonating through you. "Watching you move, watching you shine brighter than anyone else here. Tell me, little life, do you often have this effect on strangers?"

His thumb traced idle circles on your hipbone through the thin fabric of your costume as he waited for your response, the heat of his palm seeping into your skin.

The male's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on your hip as he awaited your response, the heat of his touch seeming to brand your skin even through the thin fabric of your costume. You swallowed hard, pulse quickening at his proximity and the dark promise in his tone.

"I… I don't know what you mean," you managed to say, voice coming out breathier than intended. "I'm just here to enjoy the party with my sisters." Even as the words left your mouth, you knew they rang hollow. There was a part of you that revelled in his intense focus, in being singled out amidst the writhing sea of bodies. You were glad you had let Nesta talk you into wearing a matching lace set to "be ready for a male" in her words, because you were going to fuck him tonight, you just felt like it, in your slightly tipsy state, you needed someone to forget him, someone currently without a face seemed like a wonderful option.

A low, dark chuckle rumbled from the cloaked male's chest at your feigned innocence. "Is that so? Well then, allow me to change your mind." In one fluid motion, he pulled you flush against him, one muscular thigh slipping between your legs to press intimately against your core. The heat of him seared you even through the layers of clothing separating your bodies.

"This isn't just enjoyment, little one. This is destiny." His gloved hand slid up your side to cup the swell of your breast, kneading the soft flesh possessively. "Can't you feel it? The pull between us, like moth to flame?" Leaning in, he nipped sharply at the sensitive skin below your ear before soothing the sting with his tongue. "I'm going to worship every inch of you tonight until you're begging."

You gasped as his thigh ground against your core, but instead of pulling away, you leaned closer, "And what of you, do you approach random females having fun out of nowhere and think everyone wants you?"

The cloaked male threw back his head and laughed, a rich, dark sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh no, sweet thing. I don't make a habit of approaching just any female." His hand slid lower, gripping your ass and pulling you impossibly closer. "But when fate drops a goddess wrapped in silk directly into my path, I'd be a fool not to act."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth moving over yours with skilful intent. One hand fisted in your hair, angling your head to just push the mask past your lips as he plundered your mouth thoroughly. When he finally released you, you were left panting, knees weak.

"My apologies, I couldn't resist sampling the nectar of the Mother herself," He purred wickedly, he wasn't sorry at all. And you weren't either, cause you felt like you knew those lips, and you kissed him back more confidently.

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Mmmm, I can taste the wine on your lips. But there's another flavor beneath it, something sweeter. The essence of life itself." His hand slid under your skirt, calloused fingers caressing the smooth skin of your thigh. "I wonder, does all of you taste as divine as your mouth?"

The crowded dance floor seemed to fade away, the pulsing beat of the music dimming to a distant thrum. All you could focus on was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the wicked promises in his gravelly voice, the teasing caress of his fingers inching higher up your thigh. Your core clenched with need, arousal dampening your lace.

He groaned softly as his fingers brushed against the damp lace covering your most intimate area. "Already so wet for me, aren't you little goddess?" His hand traced teasing patterns over the soaked fabric, applying maddeningly light pressure. "I bet you're aching to be filled, to be stretched wide. Let's take this somewhere private, yeah?"

Then he pressed his scythe to the back of your head, then you realised that it wasn't simply a part of his outfit and the blade was very much sharp. As the reality of the situation dawned on you, a surge of fear mixed with exhilaration coursed through your veins. The cold metal of the scythe pressed firmly against your skull, a potent reminder of his power and dominance.

"Move, now," He commanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated through you. Without hesitation, you allowed yourself to be led through the crowd, his grip on your arm unyielding. The dance floor receded further into the background as you stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your ears.

He guided you through a door in the back, set for privacy in the club's nightly activities, the doors were dark red yet translucent, you could make out faint bodies of lovers pressed together, the male guided you to one of the empty rooms. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of incense and something muskier, more primal. A large wooden table dominated the centre of the space, its surface polished yet stained with age.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he spun you around to face him, pressing you back against the cool wood of the table. His hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading as if to claim every inch of you as his own.

"You look exquisite in the dim light, like a Nightbloom blooming under moonlight," He murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So delicate, yet perfect for the taking." His fingers deftly untied the bow at the front of your corsetted top, revealing the lacy cups barely containing your breasts. "Let's get rid of these restrictive garments, shall we?"

With practised ease, he peeled off your corset, leaving you in your mask, tiny skirt and the soaked lace covering your cunt.

His hungry gaze devoured the sight of your nearly bare body, drinking in the curves and valleys of your skin. The way your nipples pebbled in the cool air, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed heavily, the glistening evidence of your arousal on the lace clinging to your cunt. Every detail was etched into his memory, fueling his desire.

Without warning, he swooped down, capturing one pert nipple between his teeth. He suckled gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. At the same time, his hand delved beneath your skirts, fingertips grazing the sensitive inner thighs as he worked his way upward.

"Mmm, you do taste divine," He purred against your breast, his free hand palming the other, rolling the nipple between his fingers. "I could feast on you all night long."

You cried through the pleasure, head rolled back, you still couldn't see the male's face, covered in darkness, but as the shadows flickered in the room, you were fully sure who he was, yet you still played the part of not knowing.

His gloved hand slipped past the lace barrier, fingers brushing against your slick folds before circling your clit in deliberate strokes. "Such responsive little life," Death murmured approvingly, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I can tell you're eager for more."

With a sudden, decisive move, he hooked his fingers inside you, thrusting them deep into your clenching heat. A guttural moan escaped you as he pumped his digits in and out, stroking that magic spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

"That's it, let me hear you," He coaxed, his thumb continuing its relentless assault on your clit. "Scream for me, little goddess. Show me how much you crave my touch."

"What should I moan for you?" You gasped, toes curling on the table, hands gripping the sides as his gloved fingers curled inside you, now that you knew, you could sense the scars on his hands. "Death?"

He chuckled darkly, the vibrations of his laughter sending tingles through your body. "Yes, Death," He confirmed, his fingers never ceasing their sensual torment. "And I'm here to collect your soul..." His shadows moved the Scythe to aim for your throat, forcing you to keep your head up.

His pace quickened, pumping into you harder and faster until your whole world narrowed to the sensation of his fingers stretching and filling you. The pressure built, coiling tighter and tighter in your core until you teetered on the brink of release.

"Now, scream for me, life," He demanded, his thumb rubbing merciless circles around your throbbing clit. "Let go and give me everything." With a final, brutal thrust, he pushed you over the edge into blissful oblivion.

With a final, ruthless thrust, he pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed, back arching off the table as a scream tore from your throat. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in ecstasy, light leaving your form as it slammed back in, you were a little ashamed to admit that your previous lover had never made you feel like that just by his fingers, or any part of him.

Death watched, mesmerized, as you came undone beneath his skilled touch. The way your cunt spasmed around his fingers, the flush of bliss on your cheeks, the sheer abandon in your expression, It was intoxicating.

As the aftershocks subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste your essence. "Delicious," He purred, savouring the flavour of your climax, tasting your essence.

He leaned in close, his shadowy form looming over you. "But don't think that was enough to sate me, little goddess," He whispered, his breath a chilly caress against your ear. "I want to consume every last drop of your sweetness, to drink deep from the well of your desire until you're utterly spent and begging for mercy."

He grabbed your hips, pulling them back against his straining cock. The thick head prodded insistently at your entrance, seeking entry into your welcoming heat.

With a swift, powerful thrust, Death buried himself to the hilt inside you, his rigid cock stretching you wide open around him. A harsh groan ripped from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your slick walls enveloping him, your tightness a delicious contrast to the chill of his skin.

He began to move, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm that shook the table beneath you on it's legs. Each stroke was a claiming, a possession, a declaration of his dominance over your quivering form.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his guttural grunts. His shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the wild, primal energy coursing through his veins as he lost himself in the carnal delight of taking you.

The shadows covered the translucent glass, so no one outside could see the two of you. His movements became even more frenzied, hips snapping forward with reckless abandon as he chased his own release. The table creaked ominously beneath the force of his thrusts, but he paid it no mind, too consumed by the need to fill you, to mark you as his own.

"Fuck, you're so tight," He gritted out between clenched teeth, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigour. "I'm going to fill you up, little life," He snarled, his voice raw with lust. "Every last drop of my seed, marking you as mine." With a final, brutal plunge, he buried himself to the root inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilt his cum deep within your womb.

The sensation of his hot release flooding your insides triggered another orgasm, your body trembling and clenching around him as you came once more. Body curling around his to grip on.

"He. Didn't. Deserve. You." Azriel grunted as he slammed through your climax, his hood falling down, the shadows that he'd used to cover his face falling, "I hated hearing you sob for him at night. When my mate should be moaning for me." He growled the term and for you it was like time stopped.

Azriel captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasps and moans as he rocked into you, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, deliberate dance. "You're mine now, y/n," He growled against your lips, nipping at them possessively. "Mine to claim, to cherish, to fuck."

His words sent shivers down your spine, a thrill of excitement mixed with trepidation. But there was no denying the fierce passion burning in his eyes, the unyielding conviction in his tone. He wasn't asking, he was declaring, staking his claim on your very being.

As if to emphasize his point, Azriel pulled out of you abruptly, only to flip you onto your stomach and yank your hips up into the air, his shadows gripping your ponytail, grabbing your form still for him.

Without wait, Azriel lined his still hard cock up with your dripping entrance once more, still more to go, the blunt tip probing at your slick folds. Then, with a savage grunt, he drove into you again, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"Ah- AZ!"You felt every inch of him, his hard length splitting you open, reaching depths you didn't know existed. He set a punishing pace, his hips slapping against your ass as he took you with animalistic ferocity, each stroke driving home his claim on you.

Azriel's grip on your hair tightened, pulling your head back as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear. "This is what you needed, isn't it, Life? To be taken, claimed, owned?" His voice was a low, menacing purr, laced with dark promise. He pressed in fully, bruising your cervix with a rut of his hips. "Because I'm not done with you yet. All you needed was me. Your mate. But instead you went for that pathetic male. I could feel you when you were under him, how little he pleasured you. I wanted you to explore around and that was the male you chose to have your heart broken by? That male made you cry!"

Azriel's accusations cut deep, striking at the heart, you had chosen wrong. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but he continued unabated, his relentless pace never faltering as he pounded into you.

"You thought you loved him, didn't you?" He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Thought he understood you, could make you happy. But look where it got you - crying yourself to sleep, desperate for something more. Something real."

His hand left your hair to trail down your spine, nails digging into your skin as he gripped your hip, holding you in place for his brutal thrusts. "I am that something real, y/n. I've always been here, waiting for you to realize it."

"Az..." You whimpered under the weight of him, his cloak fell as his wings stretched to their full might. Though you weren't scared of him, instead you felt something snap between you, a thread of gold that connect you.

Azriel's wings unfurled, casting an ominous shadow over the room as they spread wide, the leather a stark black against the dim lighting. The sight alone would have been intimidating, but coupled with his dominant position over you, it was a potent display of his power and control.

As he continued to pound into you, his movements grew more erratic, his hips snapping forward with a frenzy that bordered on violence. The table creaked ominously beneath you, threatening to collapse under the force of his thrusts.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," He growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "No other male will ever satisfy you like I can. You belong to me, body and soul." His hand slid from your hip to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. "Say it, princess. Allow me to kill him and I will bathe in his blood, for ever shedding a tear on your pretty face not born of pleasure."

Azriel's grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your air supply as he held you in a vice-like embrace. His free hand slid down to grasp your jaw, forcing your gaze upwards to meet his intense stare in the obsidian of his shadows, being so dark they reflected back everything he was doing to you, like a mirror to the show.

"Look at me, y/n," He commanded, his voice a low, dangerous hiss, his eyes were fully shadow. "Meet my eyes and tell me you understand. Tell me you're ready to let go of that pathetic excuse for a lover and embrace the darkness that's been waiting for you all along."

His hips never ceased their relentless assault, each brutal thrust driving home his point, his possession, his ownership, his jealousy. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the weight of his unspoken threat hanging over you like a spectre of doom. "Say it," He repeated, his grip on your throat constricting further.

"Yours," You choked out, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. "I'm yours, Azriel."

With those three simple syllables, the dam broke. Azriel released his hold on your throat, allowing you to gasp in a ragged breath. His fingers dug into your jaw once more, angling your head to the side as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Good girl," He purred, the approval in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Now, let's finish what we started."

And with that, he redoubled his efforts, fucking into you with a newfound intensity, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. A ring of white forming around the base of his cock, everything of his he'd already deposited deep within you.

In that moment, he didn't look like a male who'd put on a death persona for a little party, but he was death himself, come to take you. And you would gladly go with him.

Azriel's movements became more frantic, his strokes growing shorter and harder as he chased his release. His nails raked down your back, leaving red welts in their wake, a physical manifestation of the claim he was making on you.

"You're mine now, y/n," He growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "My mate, my love, my everything. No one else gets to touch you, to taste you, to make you scream."

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsating as he spilt his seed deep inside you again. The feeling of his hot cum filling you, you let out a strangled cry as he put his entire weight on your back, the table underneath giving out. Mixed with a shadow that rubbed insistently at your clit, it triggered your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you came undone in his arms.

Azriel collapsed atop you, his weight pressing you into the now very broken table as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. His chest heaved against your back, his hot breath fanning over your neck as he struggled to catch his breath.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at you with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "That's right, princess," He murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction. "You're mine now."

Slowly, he withdrew from you, his softening cock slipping free with a wet pop. A trickle of his essence leaked out, glistening on your inner thighs as he settled beside you, pulling you into his embrace.

"You're safe with me, y/n," He whispered, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "You know that, right?"

Azriel's words were a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, his warm breath against your skin calming the lingering tremors of your climax. You nodded.

"I know," You replied softly, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his cheekbone. "I trust you, Azriel. I... I feel what Feyre explained she felt."

He hummed in approval, his arms tightening around you as if to pull you deeper into his embrace. "Good," He murmured, his lips grazing your temple. "Because I intend to keep you safe... And satisfied... For eternity." He kissed your temple, "Still, tell me, should I kill him? As much as I didn't enjoy you wanting to go after someone else, he did break your heart."

Azriel's question hung in the air, heavy with implication. In truth, part of you wanted revenge, craved the sweet justice of watching Azriel's wrath unleash upon the one who had wronged you. But another part, the part that had surrendered itself to this dark, beautiful male, whispered that perhaps there was mercy to be found.

"No," You said finally, your voice firm despite the uncertainty swirling within you. "I don't want you to kill anyone for me..."

Azriel regarded you for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, slowly, a dark smile curved his lips. "I will end generations for you, my mate. Anything that hurts you is nothing but dirt to me."

Azriel's declaration sent a thrill through you, a mix of fear and exhilaration at the depths of his devotion. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw no cruelty there, only an unwavering commitment to your well-being. He would be your darkest protector, your mate.

"I believe you," You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a tender kiss. "And I'm glad to have you by my side, but he's not worth any more moment of my time. Just let him go."

Azriel's response was immediate and passionate, his mouth claiming yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands roamed your curves, mapping every inch of your body as if reassuring himself of your presence.

{General Taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @satorusemepls @fieldofdaisiies}

[angelicwh1spers]

— ⋅˚₊‧ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 ‧₊˚ ⋅ —

𝐈n 𝐜onclusion… Matt has had enough of your teasing during a New Year’s party, so he fucks you inside of the bathroom into the new year.

𝐖arnings… [ SMUT ] , p in v , unprotected sex , dirty talk , dom!matthew , bathroom sex , ?kinda-public sex? & other sexual content contained inside!

⚠︎ 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒 - English is not my first language so excuse and dismiss any minor mistakes in my writing, I’m fairly new to writing on tumblr but it’s always been my passion to create stories and envelop myself inside of the world of fiction.

⟡ ݁₊ 𝐀fter another year passes by before you could fully register it, today was the day where you would step into the new year with Matthew by your side, your boyfriend of three years now going on four. You were lucky to have found such an amazing partner, whenever you would look at him two fires would ignite inside of your body, one being appreciation and the other being desire. Tonight you were invited to a big New Year’s party hosted by one of your friends and as a plus one, you were of course going to take your boyfriend alongside with you, starting the new year without him wouldn’t sit right within you.

You wore one of your expensive elegant black dresses, the ones you only wore for any special occasions and tonight one of them fell on this day, new years can be exciting but also stressful with all of the resolutions and plans for the new year can get overwhelming but with time you were able to stabilize your emotions and stay calm whenever the coursing thoughts stirred inside of your mind. Your long hair cascaded over your shoulders, enhancing your facial features and beautiful eyes people could stare hours into, including Matthew, you often would catch him staring but always dismissed it as the emotions it brought felt nice to experience.

Both of you soon arrived to the party, flickering lights and heavy music could be heard coming from inside of the building Matt parked infront of, he got out of the car and quickly made his way over to the other side where you were sitting and opened the door for you to which you giggled and grabbed his already extended hand, ascending up the staircase and through the front door, walking right into the chaos of the party, tonight you made it your mission to look your best so you could walk into the new year with your head held high and priorities straight, but little did you know tonight you would not be doing any of those things but rather be doing the complete opposite…

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

Matt’s hands had a tight grip on your plush thighs as the sound of moans and skin to skin contain echoed through the small room of the bathroom while hints of faint music occupied the background noise while you’re bend over the marble counter of the sink, immense pleasure courses through your veins as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, your soft moans intensify with each moment spent in such position. “You like that, huh? Been such a bad little girl, teasin’ me infront of everyone in that slutty fuckin’ dress.” Matt whispers between pants in a seductive tone, delivering you more pleasure as your walls pulsated around his think length driving in and out of you faster than you could think in that moment, the only answer you could provide was a muffled hum of agreement as it was immediately silenced by a soft whimper escaping past your lips.

Matt slows down his pace for a minute, you immediately feeling the outcome of it as your pleasure begins to calm down as he leans his head down to whisper into your ear. “Use your words or I’ll have to stop ma, m’kay?” “Y-yeah, please don’t stop, need more of you inside..” you whine, wiggling your hips against his as you start to get desperate for more friction. Just as you speak up, his pace returns to the previous one and immediately bring you back to the level of ecstasy and desire flowing thought your body, soon enough you feel your tight walls clenching down on to him, sucking him even deeper inside of you. He takes notice of this and detaches one of his hands from your hip, both of his hands taking different positions now, one pressing down on the small of your back and the other trailing down to rest between your thighs, his thumb coming up to press down on my pulsating clit, only driving me closer over the edge.

“Matt, i’m gonna c-cum..” you moan out, drawing out his name as he starts to also feel close to the edge, a knot slowly building up inside of your stomach as Matt increases his already fast pace, loud yells can be heard from behind the door as the countdown till the new year starts, Matt notices and slows down again before whispering, “Hold it for me, ma. Wanna cum together in the new year, yeah?” You nod your head positively before the countdown starts. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, when it reaches half of the time Matt immediately speeds up as the know inside of your stomach intensifies, 4, 3, 2, 1… and with the last digit being drawn out, the knot bursts as Matt’s seed paints your tight walls, mixing together with your own juices as your body lays down limp on the counter, heavy pants merging together with the tense air surrounding you both, “Gotta clean up this drippin’ pussy now, wouldnt want anyone seein’ you so fucked out the first day of the new year now, would you?”



— 🩵 𝐓aglist

• @sweetshuga @giveheavensomehell @delilahsturniolo …

⋅˚₊‧ 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒... this is my first fic written on here so if you guys read it please give me any kind of feedback and tell me your thoughts on it, I’m so excited to start my journey on here and thanks everyone for the likes and compliments !!

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE FUNERAL

Joel Miller x f!reader || 600 words

Summary: Joel fucks you at a funeral.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, spanking (1), hair pulling(1), rough sex, unprotected piv, creampie, degradation but it’s sweet, mention of death, infidelity, dark undertones. Reader has hair, wears a dress.

A/n: I just saw these two pics on Pinterest side by side and my brain birthed this. not beta-ed, barely edited. Hope you’ll like it<3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You drag Joel to the bedroom by his big hand and as soon as the door closes behind you two, you kiss him with passion and hunger, that you haven’t known until meeting him.

“Take me, Joel.”

“Now?”

“Yes. All those fake tears and awkward condolences make me wanna scream. I‘d rather scream because of you.”

You’re heaving, suffocating with lust that is rippling through your body in waves.

Joel’s crooked smile tells you that he’s in and soon your cheek is pressed to the bed and his clothed hard-on is rubbing against your ass.

“You look so hot in black.”

His compliment makes you smile but the next moment a whimper crawls up your throat when his warm hands slowly glide up the back of your naked thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and exposing you. Joel growls when he sees that you’ve been naked and dripping under your mourning dress. The clang of his belt and the clothes rustling send shivers down your spine and then you moan with anticipation as his hot cock heavily lands on your ass cheek.

“Fuck me hard. Let me feel what I’ve done. Punish me.”

Joel chuckles but the sound lacks cheer. Bitterness coats his words.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, baby—“

He almost chokes when his tip pushes between your wet folds.

“— only waited for your rich old husband to die.”

“Meanwhile fucking you,” you add with a smirk and then gasp as his fat head catches on your soft hole and he slowly starts pushing it in.

“Damn, you’re soaked.”

“Been thinking about this all day. Couldn’t wait for you to ruin me.”

Instead of a reply Joel slaps your ass cheek and you jerk at the hard stroke.

“Such a slut. Horny for your lover at your husband’s funeral.”

You moan loudly, not caring who could hear you, when his thick member is spreading your walls so nicely, and you tremble at the delicious stretch.

“Say it again,” you whine.

You hear a smirk in his voice when Joel repeats,

“Your husband’s funeral.”

The sound you emit almost makes him spill inside you— it’s full of ecstasy and joy.

“Bad girl.”

He bottoms out and you clench the sheets, before he drags his cock out almost to the tip. You squeeze around his bulbous head, pussy greedy and desperate.

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chant as he starts fucking into your cunt with energetic thrusts, sending you higher to your peak.

Suddenly Joel grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up against his chest. You don’t feel pain, just lust and pleasure are licking at your body, as his hips are hitting your ass, sending his cock deeper into your core.

His hot breath tickles your ear when he gruffs through the sound of skin slapping against skin,

“I’ll keep punishing you like this forever, baby. You’ll be my little cock sleeve. My personal slut with a dirty secret. We’re connected forever now.”

“Forever,” you breathe out and turn your head to latch onto his mouth.

The kiss feels almost violent, all teeth and groans, and you break it abruptly to search for his blown eyes.

“Promise you’ll protect me. Promise no one will know what we’ve done.”

Joel presses his sweaty forehead to yours and slows down his thrusts to whisper,

”I promise.”

With his arms holding you tightly, his stiffness languidly massaging your soft spot, you come on his thick cock and your pulsating cunt makes him squirt his creamy load against your walls. It’s hard to breathe in his steel embrace while he’s filling you full, but tears of happiness are flowing down your face because finally, finally, you are free.

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story<3

MASTERLIST

Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40