#It works (mostly) because of the hair/eye/clothes color changing

[dbphantom]

does a magical girl transformation sequence but at the end I just look like this:

[remxedmoon]

go my hyucker (human gucker)

ssso my good friend pastell @startagainaprologue mentioned it was struggling with making a human design for the guide and i rubbed my hands together evilly and got to work. aaaaa this was super fun to work on!!!!! thankyou again for letting me draw this graaaa. as always my deranged character design ramblings are below the cut 👍

CHARACTER DESIGN BLAST

most of guide’s colors are slightly shifted to be closer to red and more… desaturated? my default bonnie colors clashed with the palette i usually use for guide so they got changed slightly. i did add the blue on the sash as a reference to my nille design however! and i tend to use cooler colors to represent countries outside of vaugarde, so you could interpret it as a link to the island. if you so desire :3

speaking of the sash, just about everything they’re wearing here is based on another character!! in this case, it’s meant to resemble nille’s waist sash! but with a different pattern. something something only having an imitation of what it lost. the stars are meant to represent siffrin and loop, and also just the universe in general. fun stuff!

i mostly just made their shirt longer for the sake of looking Different from normal bonnie? but combined with the sash it has the fun bonus of having a silhouette similar to siffrin’s cloak. not full intentional but hey! i’ll take it!

the gems on its tail are there to represent odile!! as well as referencing the ka buan tradition of compressing ashes into diamonds. you can draw your own conclusions there! and they go ding ding when it walks :3

the hat/halo isss probably self explanatory? it’s a way to fit guide’s Spiky Head into the design. the halo was added pafter pastell drew buns version of the design auau. i like both! so their hat can be whatever shape you please.

okay! nno more talking about clothes i promise. similar to my ghostlight loop design, i gave it spikier hair!! i have to give sponsors spiky hair to resemble their Spiky Heads. it’s the law. their hair was supposed to be shorter but. i’m pretty sure this is the exact same length i usually draw bonnie’s hair. oops? oh well it looks cute. the stars are honestly just there for fun i didn’t have anything specific in mind

in a similar vein, i changed their eye shape to match the eye shape on guide’s ref! perpetually Sad Looking. on the bright side they aren’t constantly crying anymore!

thheir body is. mostly the same? i decided to make their body Red Tinted for the sake of consistency and i removed the separated limbs aaand. that’s basically it? not much to say! i did add the halo bracelet around their wrist as a callback to the separation though. i didn’t do the same for its shoulder because i am Lazy 🩶

aaand i think that’s everything? well it Isn’t but i think everything else is self explanatory and frankly this is long enough as is. here is the """greyscale""" version as compensation 🩶

[alexrosa13]

Professor's Princess

professor!Rafayel x female!student!reader

Genre: smut with lots of plot (it's mostly plot)

Warnings: 19,7k words, the usual minor writing smut! (month away before 18 alr, I could gatekeep it for the next month, but a promise is a promise @pozuki) block or scroll if uncomfortable!, Rafayel and reader having the same past as him and mc, however with a different present plot so reader is not the mc, reader studies art and is an artist!, reader's clothes described (skirts, dresses, revealing clothes and high shoes, no body features specified tho other than reader having hair), nude paintings, this work contains lots of deep feelings and love, so if you're not into sweet stuff this is not for you, fingering, sex in a public space (classroom//office in the university), male & female masturbation, mutual masturbation, penis in vagina sex, crempie (reader is said to be on birth control), nicknames (cutie, baby, princess←overused I'm not sorry), stalker Rafayel if you squint..., supportive friends (nps's names: Soraya, Angela)

Note: I tried my best to add accurate information about art here, together with coming out with what Rafayel's personal opinions would be like, please do correct me if anything you see here is a false claim!

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

When Rafayel became your professor you didn't bat an eye, focused on your goals, not taking a notice of the hottie everyone talked about. What changed and pushed you to catch feelings? Do you believe in fate? Because something clearly pushes you his way...

‘How do you even get yourself into a situation like this?’

You were sitting on a lecture about modern art, the topic itself very much interesting, especially when the person talking about it was Rafayel himself, but most of the people there didn't come to learn about art.

He could have said something like sky is green or purple color doesn't exist and they would all nod and agree with him, simply because of the way he carries himself, unusual and unparalleled artist with a specific worldview, not afraid to voice controversial opinions.

But he was so much more than that.

Everyone admired him for his work and character, the second of which seemed weird since if anyone else would act the same way he did they would be considered rude and tactless, but Rafayel? He could be as mean as he'd want to, and people would continue singing him praises, what an unfair standard that comes with being famous. Other people simply excused his behavior because of his looks, which you had to admit, were really, really good.

At first you didn't like him, didn't even respect him to be honest, thinking of him as another rich man with too much influence in his hands, but with time? You started noticing the little things.

The way he spoke about art as something magical itself, having deeper respect for a piece of paper than an actual human being, and honestly? In some weird way you approved that thinking logic.

Most people in this specific class weren't artists, or even just people interested in it, they simply chose to attend that class because someone popular (despite not even being active in the media) works as a professor, limiting the amount of free places in the lecture for people actually interested in what he's talking about.

You still had no idea how you got a place, since you signed up for it really late and didn't expect to actually make it, but to your surprise you got yourself a spot.

Totally not because the professor himself pulled some strings...

Rafayel wasn't actually half as bad as you first thought, he didn't indulge in people exciting over his existence, didn't use his popularity as a sign that he deserves respect, no. He was much more simple than that, which also made him more complicated since he was so different from the rest.

You didn't really engage in making friends at the university, focusing on your art and people whom you already knew for longer, people who were actually interested in what you do, allowing you a sneak peeks at the process of their own creative work.

And they were enough for you. You liked being alone, didn't care much about people's opinions, preferring silence or music over conversations that you couldn't end out of politeness when they got boring.

Humans were boring.

That's what you use to justify your lack of social interactions for the most part. A couple of people who you knew just get you and actually like you were enough, especially since the conversations at the university were always the same, talks about relationships, problems of our world, parties and stuff like that. Now the quiet groups at the university did in fact sound fun sometimes, talking about topics that you wouldn't catch in the casual conversation when meeting a stranger, weirdly specific and interesting.

And last days? Everyone talks about Rafayel.

Girls talking about how much they would like a private lesson with a professor like this in an obvious context, even some guys engaging on it sometimes.

Just Rafayel, Rafayel and Rafayel, whenever you go.

You get it, he's hot, young and simply so, so attractive simply by just existing.

But did they really have no other problems in life than getting laid?

Now at the start of his lectures you kind of despised him, thinking of his as an annoying, selfish prick, who got too much fame for no reason.

But with time and each lesson you gained more and more respect for him, the way he talked mesmerizing you, bringing out passion for art from the depths of each and everyone who'd listen, the way the world around him seemed to stop every time he picked a paintbrush, the way he didn't care about other's opinions, strict but also really chill, a perfect professor.

And the way he looked at you...

It started innocently, you noticed how his gaze seemed to wander to you whenever you entered his classroom, stopping whatever he was doing for a second too long to simply look at you and take you in, something you noticed he didn't do with anyone else.

At first you thought that it was just your imagination, like you were a 10 year old in a water pool trying to gain the attention of an older lifeguard, now you looked out for the attention of your professor. He wasn't that much older than you though, maybe two or three years from what you know.

And despite telling yourself that his glances didn't mean anything, your friend decided to pursue you into testing the theory that he actually likes you.

So one day you wore something that would definitely catch his attention if he decided to pay any to you.

Nothing too risky, just something that you wouldn't usually wear to a boring, hours long lectures, a skirt and a top with a little deeper neckline than you usually wore.

And just when you walked into his classroom, prepared for your friend's plan to fail, he glanced at you like he always did. You tried to act all natural about it, so slowly you walked to your seat, noticing in the corner of your eye that his eyes followed you for much longer than ever before.

Sitting up you decided to sneak a glance at him again; and that's when you caught it.

His eyes studying your figure, his expression not betraying his thoughts, he seemed just as if looking at something that brought him instant inspiration.

Something worth his attention.

His eyes went up to your face, noticing the way you watched him.

Instead of looking away embarrassed he continued to stare, acting as if it didn't mean anything, but you knew the truth. He never graced any other student with his beautiful eyes straying to them for so long.

You smiled slyly, but subtly, resting your chin on your hand, watching the way he couldn't seem to look away.

Noticing your expression he only smirked, finally moving his eyes to the papers before him.

You had him in your grasp, now the only question is how to approach someone like him about it?

Coming back to a recent time: the lecture slowly came to an end, students began to wrap up their stuff to go about their day, when someone's loud voice disturbed the sounds of chairs being moved.

“Professor Rafayel, since the next lesson is about nude painting will you model for us?” One of the very not funny popular girls at the academy asked while giggling with her girlfriends.

Rafayel didn't even turn around from the canvas, standing right before the huge board in the center of the classroom, studying the works his students submitted for the next academy exhibition.

Uncomfortable silence fell onto the hall, only interrupted by giggles of the people who found disrespecting professors funny.

“You're saying that as if you were able to create a full body sketch while portraying the correct human anatomy.” He stated coldly, as usual. Giggles instantly died down when he finally turned around, walking towards his desk casually, as if he didn't just embarrass a student. “I remember how your sketch of a couple sitting and holding hands turned out. Their limbs stretched out way too long to be considered human, women's breasts bigger than her own head while her body remained tiny and slim, don't even get me started on the guy's abs.” He lifted his head up, his cold gaze instantly making the girl look down in shame. “Now, I don't mean that people aren't allowed to be beginners, make mistakes, or are obligated to perfection. No. What I mean is that only people who come here to paint and improve themselves will attend the nude painting lecture.”

Whispers began circling around you, you couldn't help but smirk, instantly trying to hide it.

So he did notice how most of his students had nothing to do with art...

“Same goes to each and every next lesson that will acquire drawing skills on at least decent level. You're in this class for what, two months now? How come you're still unable to create a sketch that at least resembles a human.” He deadpanned, some of the students began to feel called out, just like the girl herself. “I was being nice, turning a blind eye to your incompetence, but really, how can you take a course that is too advanced for you? And not even try to gain any knowledge from it nonetheless.” He said while grabbing a stack of papers and making his way to the classroom door, stopping in the middle of his way. “I'll say this once and let it sink in. The next lecture won't be for anyone without the ability to hold a paintbrush properly.”

And with that he walked out.

A moment of silence met the hall walls again, before people began laughing. The girl and her minions gathered their things with a pout, talking about them never coming back here and what a dick that professor was.

You looked behind you, instantly making eye contact with a girl who just like you attended these classes from passion, she sent you a wink before continuing to pack her things and laughing under her nose.

Oh yes, Rafayel is not as shallow as you took him for.

You had strange dreams, more often than not you found yourself in the ocean depths, not drowning but simply being there, feeling like you and the cold water were one, before suddenly waking up.

Ever since you could remember you felt connected to the ocean, your inspiration skyrocketing every time you gazed into its surface, hearing the waves hit the shore.

Living only about 15 minutes away from it you could easily get there anytime you felt like it, often finding yourself sitting at a distance from the shore with a sketchbook, scribbling something even if you didn't know what final effect you were going for.

It's always been like this, your art often centering around the deep waters, sometimes you drew a human swimming while looking up towards the light above them, illuminating their face, sometimes it was mermaids, mostly male (for no reason at all) wrapped in jewelry all over them. Sometimes simply the view below the surface, colorful, lively, sometimes sad and depressive, all depending on your mood.

But lately... Whatever you try to draw, paint, create, resembles one specific person...

Rafayel.

Your art professor.

Why? You didn't even know. Every time you picked a paintbrush and just went with the flow, planning to simply create a man, any man, the face you painted looked like him, his hair, his silhouette, just him.

You were so tired of it. Feeling like a teen having their first celebrity crush, knowing fully well they will never happen.

But you still managed to keep your hopes up.

However if anyone asked? You didn't care about him, at all, that's it, that's the story, you don't care.

Because you didn't want to be like all those brain-less girls attending his class just to admire him. You had a goal, you wanted to improve, to learn, to build your future starting by finishing this university, and no hot professor will be able to pull you away from something you worked all your life for.

But also with each and every word spoken by him he seemed more and more mesmerizing, your gaze wandering around his features, unconsciously implanting his image into your brain.

And despite you trying not to pay attention to it you could feel his eyes on you more often than not.

Tomorrow's another lecture. Nude paintings. You can do it, more than familiar with painting human anatomy. But also it's supposed to have less people than ever before attending it...

Honestly, if he already managed to build a house in your mind with the way he had you thinking about him everyday, why won't you do the same to him?

After all, two can play this game, right? Let's push his limits a little bit, live a little, you won't risk your place in the academy since you're not planning to do something scandalous, right? They can't kick you out for no evidence that you tried to seduce your professor, right?

You did just what you said you would. The very next day you woke up a little earlier, just to put your plan in motion.

You picked out clothes from your dresses for about half an hour, finding stuff you haven't seen for years at this point, trying to put together the cutest outfit you could.

Settling for a sweet body-hugging skirt ending at the perfect length so that you won't flash anyone while just walking around, a transparent shirt showing everything except your breasts, carefully hiding them behind a soft sewn-in material, adorable tights and a pair of cute platform shoes.

Topping everything with a cardigan to hide away from the strict professors, who don't understand that clothes do not disturb their lessons.

After making sure you looked your best and sending a selfie to your friend group you got ready to officially start the day, hopeful that your efforts won't go unnoticed.

And to say that they didn't go to waste would be an understanding...

A couple hours later you walked into the art class full of already prepared canvas, Rafayel nowhere in sight yet. You noticed some girls talking to who you thought volunteered to be a model for today's project, probably someone who needed a quick cash, he wasn't bad looking, but not really your type either.

He looked too cocky, with good features and probably a gym freak, but something about him screamed ‘do not approach, he'd fuck anything that moves’.

A typical guy with nothing other on his mind than scoring a girl, pretty much proving you right when you saw him exchanging numbers with two girls that he probably just met.

Well not like you cared about that anyways, let them live their life or whatever like that.

Settling for a place in the corner, very close to the door, behind the others (meaning: they won't see what you're doing), and in a perfect spot for whoever sat at the professor's desk to see you clearly, you took your cardigan off and waited for your prey.

Luckily you didn't have to wait for long.

Rafayel walked in a minute later, not really glancing at the class on his way to put the heavy stuff he carried in his hands down.

You straighten up your back, trying your best to look lost in thought while staring at the blank canvas before you, moving a pencil in the air before it as if trying to imagine the lines you were going to sketch.

For a second you really got lost in daydream, inspiration flowing to you naturally, but before you could have started thinking about the details of your idea your train of thoughts returned to the current situation.

Now, how do you turn around unsuspiciously to check if he was looking at you.

Glancing at the pencil in your hand you began to slowly twist it between your fingers, trying your best to make dropping it look like an accident. Loosening up the pressure in your hand you let it fall to the ground with a soft thud.

Your face shot down, unhurriedly getting off your stool to pick it up.

You crouched down facing his desk, gently picking up your tool and lifting your head his way while standing up.

His eyes didn't leave you for even a second.

Watching the way your skirt rode up when you moved and the way you used your hands to fix it slowly, before finally his eyes went up to look at your face.

He didn't falter at being caught, too busy taking you in.

Not wanting to act weird and not really wishing for someone in your class to notice your weird behavior, you moved back to your seat, acting as if nothing happened.

Well to be honest the only thing that happened was your pussy waking up at his watchful gaze.

Why did he have to be so otherworldly hot? The universe wasn't fair.

You don't remember any other guy other than fictional ones that made you get aroused so fast. Why the fuck was it so easy for him? You didn't like acting crazy over some... Guys...

Not your style.

Okay, that's a lie, you didn't like it only because you couldn't fuck him, other than that you wouldn't complain.

“Alright, that's it for the waiting, whoever was supposed to be in this class today is already here.” You looked around noticing about half of the usual squad missing, people probably did listen to him saying that he doesn't want anyone coming here for nothing. For someone looking this cute he sure as hell had a way to sound harsh and cold, not taking anyone's bullshit.

You giggled into your hand quietly at the thought of him calling out people's idiotism.

“As you all know we last studied bodily anatomy. Most of you did good, some of you still need guidance, but that's okay, since everyone here has improved their technique over the past two months enough to pass a certain criteria.” You followed everyone's gazes, turning on your stool to face your professor, who was currently busy looking out of the window next to his desk. “I believe you already noticed today's model.” He glanced at the man currently busy making the girls blush, not mentioning anything else about him. “We have about 3 to 4 hours today, I want you to focus mainly on the full picture and try your best to capture your model with precision to each mole and mark, if you won't be able to finish in time, you'll simply add details another time since this isn't our last lesson on the topic.” He looked around the class, all eyes turned to him as usual, with his hand he gestured to the volunteer model to come to him.

Hall erupted in small talks as he focused on explaining something to the guy before sending him to probably get ready for hours of standing still naked.

“Nude art was first introduced to us back in Ancient Greek times, later on succeeding in stealing the spotlight in Western art, often presented as something controversial, back then - and now, together with the porn industry absolutely devaluing human body's worth.” The moment he began talking again the whole class quietened down, focusing all their attention on him. “People started portraying bare body as something only serving sexual purposes, thinking that the only purpose of nude art is to arouse the viewer.” He walked to the front of his desk, leaning on it while facing the small crowd. “Now personally I do not believe that the only purpose of it was to serve such a function, but people are free to believe what they want.”

Some people looked at each other, thinking about where the other's opinion stands, you glanced at them for a moment, but your eyes quickly returned to Rafayel.

“But also if you do believe that portraying human's body on canvas is only for it to serve as porn imagine, I do not know what you're even doing here.” He tilted his head for a second, thinking. “From the moment your model will take his pose you're free to start your work at any moment, you may also not work at all, I really don't care, just don't disturb the ones trying to make something beautiful.” He glanced at you for a moment, looking way too natural while doing so, but compared to him staring at the walls whenever he talked it surely wasn't a coincidence. “Do you have any questions before we start?” He shot a quick glance around.

“I do.” One girl from the other side of the hall stated, everyone's gaze momentarily turned to her. Rafayel quickly nodded his head her way gesturing for her to talk. “You said people portray the human body as something exclusively sexual. If not for sexual purposes, what do you think nude art represents?” She asked, not shying away from the topic, she was one of the devoted students, rather quiet one but you even liked her.

“It can represent a lot of things, depending on the artist's vision and the viewer's interpretation. It can portray emotions, feelings, meanings, anything you'd like. In today's world we hide away from nakedness, today's society makes us believe that showing our bodies is something to be ashamed of.” He could have talked about anything and you were sure you'd still hang on every word. His voice sounded so smooth each time he opened his mouth. “Making us feel like exposing the body we are born with is a crime. And while I agree that it is something intimate to see someone bare themselves before you, it's not half as intimate as baring your soul to somebody. And that soul is something that I want you to capture. Each painting has its soul, if you fail to capture it, you're taking away any life from your work. If you don't put your soul into your art, you are not a true artist.” He calmly said, stating his opinion effortlessly as always.

The corners of your mouth rose involuntarily, something about him talking about putting your soul into your paintings making you feel good. After all - each of your works contained part of you in them, having someone say that art has a deeper meaning than just colors on a paper looking nice felt good. Having someone with good values teaching you was nice.

Rafayel rounded his desk again, sitting in his chair while everyone focused on their conversations or preparations for painting. Your eyes didn't leave him for a moment, not caring if someone catches you staring, you wouldn't be the first to do it anyway.

Rafayel raised his eyes to you once again, clearly not by accident.

You shot him a quick grin, your small smile stretching up the moment he returned the gesture.

Your chest shook a little with quiet laughter, you had to fight yourself, biting your cheek to finally turn around from him to finally focus on the task at hand.

You didn't even notice when the model came back and got himself ready to be captured. Not caring one bit that someone hot stood naked not that far away from you. Thoughts occupied by the one and only Rafayel.

You took one deep breath to calm yourself down and relax, unknowingly sending your professor into a daze with the way your barely covered chest rose up before slowly falling back.

No one paid him no mind, their full focus on the naked guy before them, so he was free to stare all he wanted.

Your skirt barely covered your butt, showing off your entire pretty legs while you sat comfortably, you didn't pay it any mind, closing yourself for the outside world as you always did while painting, he admired that about you, the way the whole universe seemed to disappear for you the moment you picked up your tool of work, be it a pencil, crayon, paintbrush, literally anything.

You probably wore that on purpose too. He noticed you weren't usually the one for dressing up everyday, he couldn't help but wonder if it was all for him, having a feeling the tension between you was rising with each and every lecture he had with your class.

At first he didn't want to believe that you would return his interest so fast, prepared to give you years before finally trying something, he was a patient man after all, but you shattered his plans completely the moment your eyes met for the first time, making him a goner, nothing else mattered but you. He taught this class only because of you, and despite keeping his feelings at bay from the moment he saw you he failed his mission, unable to act like you didn't matter to him, he shouldn't have believed himself when he thought that he'll be able to stay away from you for so long.

But now seeing as you started making your own moves in this game of catch he knew that sooner or later he'll break.

Wanting nothing more than your soul to be his once again.

He didn't even notice how seconds turned into minutes, half an hour passing with him not moving his eyes away from you.

He should be talking about something, walking around the class and watching everyone's work, doing what he was hired to do (not like they would kick him out of the job anyways) but instead of that he put all his focus into studying you.

Your body, your face, your body language, your expressions, the way your hair rearranges itself on your head with every small movement, the way your hands worked on the canvas, the way you breathed.

You were truly a work of art in the purest form.

He couldn't help but make a mental note that you didn't often look at the model before you, maybe glanced at him three times and that was it, as if just those seconds were enough for you to recreate his image to perfection.

You didn't pay any mind to his staring, either ignoring it, playing hard to get or really not noticing anything around you while focusing on your art.

He was only forced to tear his gaze away from you when a student asked to check on their work.

And that's how he spent the next hour or so. Walking around between the canvas, giving advice here and there when asked for it, correcting someone's major mistakes (even if he didn't really care about those), giving small encouragements or simple nods of approval or simply staying quiet while watching someone's work from behind them.

But never once did he get to you.

He wasn't avoiding you, no, you just simply didn't pay any mind to his little rounds, stuck in your creativity even when needing to paint something specifically from your eyes only and not your imagination.

Noticing everyone's busy with their work he casually strolled your way, you didn't even spare him a glance.

Standing right behind you he began studying your work with great interest, every stroke of color on your canvas somehow turning out naturally perfect, effortless. You had talent and passion, he saw that in the way your works always seemed to have a soul, a meaning. You had what it takes to become a remarkable artist, and he couldn't be more proud of you.

Unnoticed by him he became so mesmerized by your art process that he didn't even register the way he slowly began leaning closer to you.

Until his torso met your shoulder gently.

He didn't move away, calm and collected, waiting for your reaction.

You titled your head for a moment to glance at him before continuing with your work as if nothing had happened.

His hands linked behind his back while he innocently decided not to pull away.

“Am I doing good, professor Rafayel?” You asked in a whisper, casually, as if his breathing didn't currently tickle your neck. You felt his body move slightly together with his subtle nods.

“Very. You're a natural.” He said into your ear, not bothering worrying if someone will see.

You couldn't help but let a proud grin appear on your lips, compliments from someone like him boosting your ego a little too much.

“Thank you, professor.” You glanced back at him again, with a playful glint in your eye.

His breathing got caught, you somehow managed to make a playful, cutesy tone sound seductive. Or maybe that was just his imagination?

He shot a quick look at the rest of the hall, not noticing anyone who'd look your way, your place on the edge of the class helping him in staying unnoticed.

Without thinking about it he looked down at you, unintentionally allowing himself to gaze at your covered breasts.

Did you not wear a bra? How come he hasn't noticed before? Well maybe because your shirt was way too good at keeping everything in the right position, embracing your body in all the right places.

He noticed the way you suddenly froze, turning your head around to send him a questioning look.

For a moment he didn't know what was wrong, but then he felt it.

His penis was poking your ass.

Holy shit he didn't even notice when he got a hard on.

His eyes widened while looking down at himself, his body leaning way too close to yours than morally appropriate.

He considered moving away and coming back to his desk to hide his little problem.

But then he noticed how your body slightly shook. His eyes returned to your face, you tried your best to hide your giggles, but couldn't hold back a cheeky grin on your face.

He watched you intensively, curious whether or not you'll make a move to get closer or pull away from him, since obviously you were not uncomfortable.

And a move you made...

Straightening up casually on your stool before reaching out for a paint a little too far away from you, knowing fully well that your perfect ass caught his attention when you bended your back for a moment before coming back to your sitting position, but this time moving way closer to him, making his dick throb in his pants at the contact.

Oh so you're one to play dirty? He's into that.

But he noticed a couple of lingering eyes on him, probably wondering why he spends so much time staring at your work.

Not wanting to raise people's suspicions just now he decided it was time to pause your little game for now.

Reaching out his hand he randomly pointed at something on your canvas.

“Add more shading here, it'll give more realism to your piece.” He said casually, as if he totally didn't think about shamefully rubbing against you just now.

You nodded your head approvingly, instantly moving to do as he says, fighting a smirk that threatened to show on your face.

Stay calm woman. Stay calm. He's the desperate one here.

You told yourself, despite the feeling of wetness accompanying you every time your thighs moved against one another.

But he doesn't need to know that.

As if nothing has occurred between you two he walked away from you. His slow steady footsteps echoing in your ears.

“I'll leave you alone for a moment, I trust that once I come back in 20 minutes the class won't be a battlefield, remember; paints are not a weapon, I do not want a brand new floor design.” He stated while walking out of the class, succeeding in making some students chuckle.

You couldn't help but wonder... Did he leave for a little bathroom break to take care of his problem?

Oh it's a shame you can't leave the class without drawing suspicions cause you would love to help him out.

As a good, exemplary student.

It didn't take you that long to come back to your stuck in mind state, all thoughts leaving at once, only you and the canvas before you existing.

A couple more glances at the model later you were halfway done with your piece, you took a peek at the clock on the wall, showing you that 2 and half an hour had passed since the class started.

Rafayel left the hall about 15 minutes ago, you couldn't help but wonder what was he doing...

Did he think about you while doing it?

Okay, stop, you can't be that needy yet, it was too early to get so excited over the thought of your professor getting off to the memory of your ass rubbing against him.

Just as you tried to bring your thoughts back to the right track the classroom doors finally opened again.

You didn't turn around, not letting him know that you were thinking about him, but you listened carefully to each step he took before his desk chair moved signalling him sitting down.

Silence overtook the whole room for a while, everyone trying their best to make their work look absolutely beautiful to gain a rare compliment from their professor.

You were finishing up when he spoke up again.

“We have half an hour left. Will anyone here need additional time another day to finish up?” His question met with about three raised hands, he only nodded, coming back to the papers before him, but by the movement of his hand over the sheet you could tell he wasn't filling out paperwork, he was probably sketching something.

“Professor Rafayel, did you ever had someone model for you?” You suddenly heard, everyone started glancing around, looking for a person who asked that.

You glanced at Rafayel, he seemed lost in thought, did he even hear the question?

Whispers started growing around you, you made eye contact with that one okay girl who simply shrugged sending you a confused look.

“No.” He answered without batting an eye. You looked at the girl again, both of your expressions showing disbelief.

An artist like that? Never painting a model? Never getting paid to paint someone?

Ain't no way.

“Why not?” A male voice spoke up, one of the three guy students in the class.

“No one ever made me feel inspired enough for me to ask them to model for me. And I was never interested in painting people for money.” Is that so...

“Would you paint your lover if you had one?” A bold girl asked, clearly one of the many with a crush on him.

Finally you saw Rafayel moving his eyes away from the paper and glancing at the classroom.

“Maybe.” He said, bringing people's whispers back with just one word.

You even heard someone jokingly throw the draw me like one of your French girls line.

Damn someone in this day and age remembered Titanic?

Your ears sadly picked up more conversations than you would like.

“Oh I could model for him all day.”

“I wonder if he would restrain himself while painting someone he likes nude.”

“How many things I would give up just to be his canvas...”

Talking like this about someone who's in the same room as them? Bold and stupid.

You at least could keep you quiet.

It was a lot more fun this way.

Those last couple of minutes till the lecture end were spent on conversations and moving around, cleaning up work stations and making sure that you didn't miss out any crucial detail on your work.

A couple people left already, and you finally started gathering your things.

Soraya, the girl you exchanged glances with before, came to your station.

“Can you believe the audacity of some people?” She whispered with a disgusted face.

“Nope, honestly, I cannot.” You send her a sarcastic grin.

“I get it, our professor is hot, but why do they have to act like he would ever even glance in their direction for more than half a second.” She said while throwing her bag onto her shoulder.

“Let them stay delusional I guess? What can I say.” You chuckled with her.

“Wanna go to that one cafe nearby the campus? My girlfriend finishes up her studies about now too, we can hang out for a bit.”

“Sure, why not, I have an hour or two to spare.” You nodded, gathering last of your stuff.

“Great~” She hummed out. “I'll wait for you before the classroom, I need to call her and ask where she'll meet us.” You nodded once again.

You met her girlfriend maybe two times before, she was an overall nice but unhinged person. The perfect balance between cute and dangerous, one would say.

You hurriedly turned around to pick up your cardigan from the floor, when your face collided with someone's chest.

Taking a step back you send whoever stood before you an annoyed glance, which changed into shocked one the moment you saw those pretty bluish-pink eyes staring right back at you.

Without a word he picked up your sweater and handed it to you as if it wasn't weird...

“Your work is great.” He glanced behind you at the finished painting.

“Why, thank you.” You squinted your eyes in slight confusion.

“Do you often draw silhouettes? Most of your work that I've seen are landscapes.” You nodded gently, still not really sure why he approached you like this, with people around you two...

“Yeah, I... I draw lots of things, including human anatomy, yes.” And not only human one...

“Aren't you a talented girl. Keep it up, you're doing a good work.” He said like it meant nothing coming from his mouth. So many people would die to hear those words from him, hear him appreciating their work.

And you were granted that honor.

Suddenly you noticed him leaning a little closer to you. “Better than anyone in this God-be-dammed school.” He whispered close to your ear before casually turning around and coming back to his desk.

What. The. Fuck.

Just when did you become a teacher's pet? Not that you're complaining of course...

Stopping your flood of thoughts you finally made your way out of the class, not acknowledging a beautiful pair of eyes following your every move, focusing on the smooth sway of your hips in that pretty skirt you wore today.

“What did the professor want from you?” Was the first thing you heard once you walked out of the classroom.

“What?” You didn't even have time to fully grasp what just happened when Soraya began her questioning.

“He legit came to talk to you about something a second ago.” She said while crossing her arms, looking at you like a police officer at a suspect.

You exhaled and shot your head up with a tired groan. “He complimented my work.” You looked at her for a split-second before walking away, hearing her footsteps right behind you.

“And did he need to be this close to you to simply compliment your work?” She teased, nudging you with an elbow.

“Oh pl-ease. He wasn't that close.” You glanced at her with a grin on your lips, instantly seeing a similar one appear on her face.

“Girl.” She chuckled, you only laughed and looked back at the huge corridor before you. “You like him.” She whispered into your ear with a slight disbelief. “I thought you said that he's a selfish rich guy with questioning morals...” She continued, making sure that none walking by students overheard.

“That was two months ago. People change.” You made an argument, closing the topic for now.

But you should know that it wouldn't be the end of this conversation, especially since she had to share the new found sensation with her girlfriend.

“Girl, what?!” Angela half screamed in shock staring right at you.

You were only sitting down for like 5 minutes before the whole topic came back. You shrugged while watching the girl process the information.

“Hottest professor in the history of our university, the one that people bet on who will get to fuck, the same one that humbles every girl that tried to make a move.” She stopped her wild hand gestures for a second, bending over the table to get closer to you, slamming her hands on it in the process. “Is interested in you?!” She whispered like a top-tier secret, looking into your eyes as if she could have read your mind that way.

“Honestly, I don't know.” You whispered back to her.

“What the hell do you mean you ‘don't know’?!” 'Raya butted into the conversation, also leaning on the table, it must have looked ridiculous from other people's views. “Girl I sat close to you this whole time, do you think I didn't notice how he was clinging to you while you painted.” She raised her eyebrows, looking at you like you had grown a second head.

“He did what?!” Angela screamed in a whisper.

“He was only standing close, it's not like he was hugging me or something.” Oh you knew you were lying.

Both girls froze up for a moment, their mouth opening in disbelief.

“Are you blind?”

“Or delusional?”

Not able to keep the calm act anymore you began laughing while covering your mouth.

”Damn she completely lost it.” Angela whispered to her girlfriend while looking at you.

“I'm fine, just... Holy shit!” They finally backed away to sit back straight. Perfectly in sync with the waitress bringing your ordered drinks.

For a moment you had to keep up the ‘we are normal’ play, but the moment the woman was gone the conversation rose back up.

“Okay girl, so do you actually like him or should we go to the higher-ups to fire him for harassing a student?” Angela looked at you with a suddenly serious expression.

You nodded your head. “I do like him. I didn't think I would, but damn... I do.” You stated while bringing your drink to your mouth for a sip-

“Do you want to fuck him?” And almost ended up spitting it out at this question.

“Angie...” Soraya laughed at the whole situation, facepalming at her girlfriend's curiosity.

„What?! That's an important question!” She defended herself. „So? Do you?” And the conversation came back to you again.

You exhaled loudly, trying to collect your thoughts, but you couldn't lie to yourself.

”Fuck yes.”

“See? I knew it!” Angela instantly argued with Soraya, who only nodded with a small chuckle. “Do you think he only wants to fuck you, or maybe date you?” And the questioning continued.

“I have no idea. But damn right I would date that hottie, but if it would only be a one time thing I'd still take it.” Girl no, you wouldn't - you already started planning what animals will you adopt after moving in together.

“Honestly I don't think that Rafayel is into one night stands, he seems like someone who would get hopelessly in love.” Soraya stated while playing with her drink's straw.

“I don't have lectures with him so I don't know.” Angie said but then started thinking for a moment. “Buuut... I talked with someone who does. She said that he talked about love as an ‘addictive pain’... He seems like a guy who despite acting nonchalant would love deeply, with his whole soul.” Angela got lost in her mind for a moment, as if dreaming about something.

“You won't understand an artist's mind when it comes to love, it's too complicated, especially for someone who seems so complex.” Soraya stated as if she herself wasn't an artist.

“I know... But honestly the idea that someone could love like this is so, so romantic. I'll stick to that mindset until you prove me wrong.” She looked out of the window, daydreaming about a perfect love story.

“Also if you were to start dating him... You'll need to hide it, and it will be tough for those next years, especially since he has students tailing him like a puppy wherever he goes.” Soraya continued with her monologue, breaking the tempting idea of dating a professor.

“By the way how much older is he?” Angie asked curiously.

“I think maybe 2 or 3 years?” 'Raya looked at you for clarification to which you simply nodded.

“Okay, then at least it's not creepy. Girl, you better fuck. that. guy.” Damn she's a little demon.

“Oh don't worry, I will try...” You took another sip.

Through next week's lectures you didn't really have an opportunity to tease your professor, but despite the inability for any physical contact without drawing unnecessary attention, your eyes continued to unconsciously look for each other.

Getting lost in his eyes proved to be too easy of a task, his beautiful irises hiding colorful ocean depths drew you in every time you raised your head to look at him.

You were falling for him.

Your heart beating faster each time he graced you with even a second of attention, your body shivering every time he passed by your desk, your pupils dilating with a single thought about him.

Feelings were a dangerous phenomena.

You didn't even notice when an innocent crush turned into something more, something that should exist only in fairy tales.

The worst thing? You didn't know how serious he was about you.

He didn't pay attention to anyone other than you, even going as far as to be straight up mean at any allusion made by others about wanting him.

But he never as much as glanced at you with the disgust he looked at others with, every time his gaze fell onto you something soft, something warm replaced the usual cold and cool.

Was that enough of a reason to allow yourself to fall in love?

Probably not, but the poems and stories you read before falling asleep made you a hopeless romantic, looking for someone able to sprout a seed of creativity in you simply by existing.

And he not only planted that seed, he made it grow into a tree full of flowers and fruits, bringing you thousands of ideas everyday.

You knew that it could hurt, the realization that maybe he was never interested in you at all would be a painful cut to your heart, turning millions of colorful butterflies living in you into moths.

You prayed for that day to never come.

You prayed for your tree to never wither.

Another day at university ended, people gathered their things, about to go on with their day, class emptying by the second.

But you stayed behind.

The professor who led the lecture left together with the students, something you haven't really noticed, too busy with drawing in your sketchbook, head in the clouds.

Inspiration came to you randomly, at first you were just bored with the discussed topic so innocently you began scribbling, making random lines that suddenly stopped being so random, your hands working their magic before your mind could keep up.

And suddenly the body on the page got a face.

Rafayel.

The figure not leaving your mind ever since you admitted to yourself you liked him.

You lifted your head for a moment, you were about to draw some details...

Noticing no one in the classroom anymore you breathed out in relief, no one saw what you were up to.

There are no more lectures for the day in here...

And you knew that no one would close you inside, as the cleaning staff always checks to make sure no one stays behind, having certain accidents before...

Taking out your earphones you made your decision. And the next half an hour flew by fast.

You were so detached from reality you didn't even notice the door behind you opening up, nor did you hear the slow footsteps coming your way.

Neither did you feel someone's presence right behind you...

And maybe that's for the better.

Since Rafayel doesn't know what would he do if you would randomly turn around and face him... After seeing what you drew.

Peeking over your shoulder his breath hitched for a moment while he forced himself to stay still and not disturb you.

You were drawing him.

Not only him, but... Naked him...

He felt his pants growing tighter with each second, every brush of your pencil on the paper making his head spin.

His heart couldn't take it. His dick couldn't take it.

Unable to face you after a discovery like this he turned around and without making a noise left the classroom.

It was too early... His plan was in ruins.

He was supposed to give you years to notice him.

Years before he would dare to touch you.

But oh my God, why did you have to make it so hard?

Making him pop a boner way too often and way too easily.

You were turning him into some pervert, which he was not. He wanted you for so much more than just your body, yearning for your soul and heart like a madman.

But the bedroom eyes you looked at him with, the slight ‘accidental’ touches you graced him with, your drawing, the way you pressed your ass against him in a classroom full of people...

You were playing a dangerous game, and despite not wanting to come out on the losing side, would he really lose if he'd gain something so precious in return?

What if you only wanted to fuck him? Use him? Go on and spread rumors about the professor being a pervert liking his student?

Would you really do him so dirty?

Walking through the hall at the lighting speed he finally made it to his office, walking inside he locked the door immediately, almost running to his chair with heavy breathing.

Losing up his collar he rested his head on the headrest of his office chair, closing his eyes while he tried to calm down.

You shouldn't have such influence on him, power over him.

But beneath his closed eyelids he saw only more of you, your silhouette, your face, your smile, those fake-innocent eyes, because you both knew you looked at him with anything but pure intentions.

And for whatever sick reason; he liked it, craved you, needed you.

No one else ever had him in their grasp, Rafayel from always being the one holding all the cards suddenly reduced to a pathetic horny man.

He loved and hated the feeling.

Knowing fully well you could use him and toss him aside like a trash bag after you're done.

But would you really? Would you ever break his heart like this?

Fuck he couldn't take it anymore.

Unable to stop himself he reached towards his belt unbuckling it hurriedly and unzipping his fly in a record time before finally taking out his cock.

Fuck he was sensitive, each vein pulsating, tip leaking precum simply because he couldn't keep his imagination in check.

Wrapping his palm around his length he began slowly pumping himself. His mind creating images of you he wished to see in person.

You on top of him, hands grasping onto his shoulder as you ride him, using him for your pleasure.

Oh fuck his hand began moving faster.

You would probably sound so pretty too, would you moan loudly or whine quietly into his ear?

Were you shameless with showing off your body or would you prefer to keep your clothes on?

He let out a moan at the thought.

Would you like it fast? Or maybe preferred the moment to be something sensual and gentle?

He would do anything for you, exactly how you'd like it.

His hand increased the tempo, wet sound filling the quiet study.

Fuck he was close.

Would you let him look into your eyes as you come? Would you shy away? You had no reason to, perfection in his eyes.

He would worship the ground you walked on, kneel before you, begged for you, he would do it all.

Would you prefer him to be in charge, acting like a little brat just to get a rinse out of him, wanting him to take it out on your pussy?

Would you be submissive? Accepting his everything, even if the overstimulation brought you to tears? Would you like him to call you his good girl?

His girl...

Back arched slightly from the chair, mouth opening to let out a silent moan, dick throbbing in his hand.

In seconds his entire palm was covered in sperm, together with the floor and a little bit landing on his shirt and pants, dirtying it.

Fuck he didn't remember the last time he came that hard, most of the days he forget that sex was even a thing, focused on his art, but ever since you came back into his life? This guy couldn't catch a break from the image of you naked underneath - or on top of him.

You were hunting him day and night, even in dreams.

And you were unaware of the effect you had on him, blissfully ignorant.

Cute. Really.

He took a minute to catch his breath, orgasm pulling all the energy from him, finally coming back to his self he couldn't help but came back to the situation that got him like this in the first place.

You were drawing him nude.

The very next day you had yet another lecture with your favorite professor.

Right after waking up you reminded yourself of a secret hidden inside of your sketchbook.

Memories of the lines you made with your pencil yesterday bringing instant heat to your cheeks.

Just what has gotten into you?

Why did you do this?

Also another, more important question: how the hell could you draw all of the details on his body just from memory that never existed?!

Unable to keep thinking about it without feeling the need to get yourself off you decided to finally get up and get ready for the day.

Starting a scavenger hunt in your closet you managed to put together a simple but cute outfit.

A tight white top on thin straps, no bra because you needed to keep your professor's eyes on you, and your boobs are going to be a great help in achieving that. Next was a white flowy skirt made from uneven scraps of silky material with a slit on your right thigh, perfectly fitting an artistic soul so to say. You added some cute white fishnets with a pretty design on their sides and put on a pair of white platform heels with ankle straps.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but feel pretty (author's note: because you all are pretty ♡).

Today will be another painting session, focused on abstraction, colors, and putting your feelings onto canvas.

A perfect setting for some chaos.

After your morning routine you finally made your way to the university, the place where you first came to continue your artistic journey and now are more focused with pinning after your professor than the actual studying.

Oh well, priorities I guess?

First lectures proved to be annoyingly boring, honestly some professors could think about changing the profession, cause what they were doing now was not going well, one of them didn't even seem like he knew what he talked about?

You had a little free time before Rafayel's lecture, Soraya and Angela used it to steal you from the main hall to find a private place to talk about very important matters.

Like literally steal you; they randomly walked over to you, hiked their arms under yours and dragged you with them, not explaining anything, stopping only when you made it to a more quiet location in the abandoned wing of the university where most people came only to deal drugs and other shit.

“How's your mission going?” They sat you down onto a bench and stood over you with their arms crossed, interrogating you.

“A mission?” You played dumb.

“Yes, a mission.”

“Called ‘fuck your professor before another bitch finds herself on him’.” Soraya added after her girlfriend.

“Quieter!” You reacted instantly.

Angie bended down to your eye level. “Not until you tell us your progress!”

“There's no ‘progress’.” You didn't back off.

The two of you stared into each other's eyes before she finally exhaled and moved away.

“Whyyy, from what 'Raya is telling me you basically eye-fuck him any change you get!” She lightly jumped in frustration, cute, really.

“Well it didn't go further than eye-fucking, sorry to disappoint you.” You send a disappointment glare at Soraya who only chuckled in response.

“Alright, angel, we really have to go to the lecture right now, I'll catch you later.” She kissed her girlfriend's forehead affectionately before taking your hand and urging you to stand up.

“See ya, just let me know later how's the situation~” Angela teased, to which you only sent her a death glare and turned around to leave with your classmate.

“You two won't let me off the hook huh?” You asked her on your way.

“Nope. But don't think so low of us, we are rooting for you to catch this man and steal him from all of those idiots here, it will be hilarious knowing that you're together while everyone continues to send him dreamy eyes.” She chuckled and you didn't know whether you should sigh or laugh.

A minute later you found yourself in the classroom, taking your usual spots you waited for the rest of the students and the professor himself to join in.

In the meantime you shared a look with Soraya more than once and each time she sent you a glare that could only be described as ‘get to work bitch’ to which you responded by rolling your eyes.

“Alright everyone.” You turn around to face the door at the familiar voice and sure enough your eyes meet the man who made your heartbeat race.

Class quietened down instantly, all eyes turning to him.

“Today we have another painting session, your favorite I know.” He walked over to his desk, opening up some papers and rummaging through them. “Now if I'm being honest, there is no final effect we're aiming for today. I want you to have fun with it, let your emotion onto the canvas, play with colors, tell stories through colorful spots on the paper if that's what you want to do.“ He looked up from the stack of papers, his gaze instantly falling to you. “Unleash the chaos.” He added before sitting down and returning his focus to his previous activity.

You glanced over at Soraya who was already watching you. ‘Stop it’ you mouthed to her to which she sent you a cheeky grin before turning her head towards her canvas.

The whole classroom stayed quiet for a bit longer, waiting for some more instruction from Rafayel, who didn't pay them any mind.

You were the first to move, picking out random paints and closing your senses to any third party stimuli, others followed not long after.

You didn't need to think about what you were doing, your hand holding the paintbrush smoothly moved around the canvas, creating something without any need to follow the image your mind usually made up first.

But the time spent between cleaning your brush and picking out another paint took too long, so without giving it any second thought you quickly wiped the paint on your skirt.

You heard some noises of disbelief coming from across the room, but you didn't even glance up at them, continuing with your work.

Soon enough one additional color on your white clothes was joined by others, a little blue here, pink there, green over here, but you still didn't care.

You wanted to be messy today, and where is it better to do that other than literal art classes?

You could feel the eyes turning to you every once in a while, people glancing up from their own works to watch the way your plain white outfit turned into canvas.

You also felt the way one specific pair of eyes stared into your back, knowing fully well who watched you most attentively.

But you won't give him the pleasure of your attention, he needs to try harder for that.

You didn't know how much time had passed, an hour? Maybe two? But you heard some people already walking out of the class quietly, finishing earlier than others as today's project took them less than the three whole hours you had the classroom available for.

At some point you dodged the paintbrush, settling for your fingers. It wasn't that long until your shirt began matching your skirt, followed by your hands and neck, a little color also found itself on your fishnets.

Too busy in your dreamland you didn't notice Soraya, who was already finished with her piece, taking out her phone and shooting you a couple pictures from the side before gathering her things and leaving.

You could hear footsteps echoing through the hall countless times, the only knowledge about the classroom emptying you got, since you didn't bother to actually look around and see who's left.

You didn't even notice how all noises around you fell completely silent, leaving only your gentle breathing and the sound of your fingers brushing the canvas.

Suddenly you noticed a hand slowly emerging from behind you, reaching for your stained with paint palm, turning it upwards.

You didn't need to look behind you to know whose chest was currently pressed against your back.

“Beautiful.” Was he speaking about your painting or..?

His hand slowly moved from your palm to your wrist, up to your elbow, his fingers leaving a purple trace on their way. You took a quick peek around, not a single person other than you two were left in the room.

His nose grazed your neck, you let out a shaky breath at the faint touch.

“I knew you'll do well today, but you exceeded my wildest expectations.” He whispered against your skin, his breath tickling your hot skin.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed, blush meeting the tips of your ears, but you didn't want to pull away, despite the fact that you didn't even know him that well you felt comfortable being so close to him, fitting against his body like a glove.

Suddenly you felt something warm and wet on your skin, letting out involuntary moan you reached your hand towards his face, currently busy with planting kisses against your skin.

You didn't care about your fingers dirtying his perfect face, he'll live.

And neither did he, too busy with finally being able to be this close to you.

Your head tilted backwards to his shoulder, your eyes fell closed as your hand found its way to his hair grabbing a handful to at least try and steady yourself while his mouth continued exploring all around your neck with hot kisses.

His arms embraced your waist tightly, holding you even closer to himself, your free hand grasped his wrist.

“You have no idea...” He whispered against your skin. “How much I wanted you.”

His hand which you weren't holding onto wandered to your chin, turning your face to him.

“Everyday I could only look at you but never touch, it was a torture.”

He took a moment to gaze into your drunk-like eyes before his lips crashed into yours, taking away your ability to breath.

Your fingers pulled at his hair before traveling lower to his neck, not letting him move away.

When did innocent stolen glances turn into this?

His teeth nipped your lip, forcing out a moan out of you and your mouth falling open slightly, giving him a perfect opportunity to push his tongue inside.

You didn't notice when his hand left your chin, too busy making out to allow your thoughts to linger.

That was until you felt something cold caressing your nipple through the thin shirt.

You broke the kiss, allowing yourself a moment to breathe and looked down.

His dipped in blue paint hand brushed your hardened nipple before his palm cupped your breast, allowing his thumb to draw circles around the sensitive bud.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned your head back to his shoulder once again, your eyes traveling to his which were currently busy observing the way your body responded to his touch.

His tongue ran over his suddenly dry lips, wanting more than just to touch you.

Without giving you a moment of breather he bent down over your shoulder, both of his hands moving to your chest while yours were forced to stay on the stool next to your body, stabilizing you, one of his palms continued massaging your bud while the other lifted your second boob to his awaiting mouth.

You let out a whine at his mouth sucking your nipple through your shirt, leaving a wet patch behind, your back arched pressing your chest straight into his passionate touch.

You become hyper aware of the wetness pooling out of you, your legs clenching involuntarily.

The now wet material of your shirt clung to your breast like second skin, your erected bud perfectly visible through the fabric.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer Rafayel moved his hand to pull the material down, exposing your pretty breasts to the cool air of the room.

Your shirt straps fell down your shoulders as your shirt held onto your stomach.

Moving a little bit away from you, Rafayel watched the way your chest rose up with each breath you took, but something was missing.

His eyes fell towards the pink paint not too far away from him, dipping his fingers in it before he returned his attention to you.

His fingers gently met your skin again. He savoured the way you arched your back as the cold substance touched your burning skin.

He watched mesmerized as your skin slowly turned into his personal art piece. But his patience proved to be rather thin when it came to you, as he couldn't keep his focus on being slow and gentle with you while your body begged for his attention.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked in a raspy voice, not giving you the time to answer as his mouth returned to your now bared breast.

The explosion of sensations made your entire body tremble slightly, your hand shot up to his head, hugging him closer to yourself. “Ah... Y-yes-” Your shaky, quiet voice pleasured his eardrums. “Please, Rafayel... More.” You whispered as his tongue slipped out from his mouth to lick your now damp nipple.

“More?” He asked, not moving his mouth away from you, his hot breath caressed your skin. “You want more?” He sucked hard on your bud, pulling your entire breast up as his hand left it without support, traveling down your body, stopping on your lower stomach. “Do you need me here, cutie?” He let go of your breast with a plop, resulting in it jumping up a bit before settling in its place, the other still gently massaged by his other palm.

“Yes, please.” You whispered into his ear, opening up your legs as an invitation.

He felt his dick throb at the view.

The slit on your skirt exposed your thigh, giving him a perfect opportunity to sink his hand under the material.

Which he did.

His palm without rush traveled your entire exposed thigh before slowly moving his hand back up, this time; under the previously clean, white material.

Your hips moved impatiently to which he responded by squeezing your breast as a warning.

Your eyes rose up from his hand disappearing under your skirt to his face, he was already looking at you.

Keeping the eye contact you moved your hand to caress his ear while leaning on your other one still planted against the wooden surface of the seat, slowly from his ear you moved it to his neck once again, bringing his face closer.

“Please.” You breathed out a millimeter away from his lips, a second later catching them in a kiss. His hand squeezed your chest once again at the unexpected affection before he let himself drown in it.

It was weirdly sweet and gentle compared to the situation you were currently in, but he didn't change the tempo, leaving it soft and not rushing.

But his hand was much more wicked than his mouth, as with one sharp move he ripped the material of your fishnets right at your opening, you only managed to let out a surprised gasp that he swallowed.

His palm touched your pussy through the soaked material of your underwear, you parted your lips in a silent whine but didn't pull back from him, at least not before he applied preasure right at your clit.

Letting out a moan you bit your lip, remembering where you were, but there was no way in hell you'll be stopping him now.

His palm left your breast to fully wrap his arm under your chest, holding you close to him as his other hand began slowly moving in circles around your sensitive bud.

You let your face fall to his chest, his chin planted on the top of your head while you listened to his quicken heartbeat.

Unrushed, his fingers moved the wet material to the side and despite not being able to see you with your skirt in the way he still managed to find all your weak spots just by the sense of touch.

“Raf...” You whispered into his crumpled shirt as his fingers gently explored your slit without the fabric in the way.

“I know baby, don't worry, I got you.” He gave your forehead a soft kiss before dipping his finger into you without any warning.

You let out a quiet cry, tugging at his shirt.

You were so wet and relaxed he was able to pull his digit all the way in without any problems.

Slowly he began moving it inside you, listening to the squelching noise your pussy made with his every move.

“Shh, keep quiet for me.” He cooed into your ear before a second finger went inside you.

You clung to him like to a salvation, while he continued pleasuring you.

His fingers speed up their movements, more wet sounds filled the quiet and empty classroom.

You wanted to moan loudly, but forced yourself to bite your lip and take it silently.

“Good girl.” He praised noticing your struggles, his fingers speed up again while his thumb focused on your swollen clit.

Your mouth opened in response to the stimulation he put you through, eyes closing in delight as you felt your stomach clenching.

“I'm-” You tried to warn him to which he responded by quickening his pace even more, abusing that spongy spot inside you. “Clo- fuck- close!” You cried out, holding onto him tightly.

“Let go for me, princess.” He said and you couldn't hold it any longer, falling apart in his hands, going limp as he held you.

The sensation shot through your entire body, his fingers slowed down their abuse before gently retreating from your cunt.

Oh fuck that was the most intense orgasm you ever had.

Rafayel continued holding you while you slowly came back to yourself, breathing hard.

Just then you reminded yourself that you didn't think about his pleasure at all, you opened your eyes while your palm slowly moved down towards the tent in his pants. But before you could have squeezed his length through the material of his pants his hand came to stop you, grasping onto your wrist and pulling your palm away from his hard dick.

“Not today, princess.” He smiled at you, totally innocent as if his other hand wasn't still under your skirt.

Speak of the devil; as in the same moment he moved his palm from under your clothes and moved it up to his mouth.

You watched with widened eyes as he put his soaked by you digits into his mouth, testing you like he would savour an expensive dish.

You felt even more wetness leaking out of you at the view.

“Delicious.” He smiled again, unbothered by your surprise as he pulled you in for another kiss, you could taste yourself on his mouth as you got lost in the sensation once again.

The moment you pulled away you finally reminded yourself what you just did.

“Holy fu- We just...” You breathed out, looking at yourself in disbelief.

“We just had some fun together, well earned fun, might I add.” He said casually, caressing your cheek gently.

His eyes fell down for a moment, widening slightly at the sight of your bare breasts, full of love bites and paint. His dick won't go to sleep anytime soon, that's for sure.

He took a good while to take you in. Your hair didn't look messy, but still didn't look very fresh either, your top still rested on your stomach with the straps holding onto your elbows, waiting to be pulled up again, your skirt was full of colors placed there by you yourself through the lecture, now maybe your fishnets didn't look broken, however that was only because the rip was hidden behind your skirt, together with your soaked panties which were probably still planted to a side, right where he left them.

He felt his face heating up, you looked like a walking sinful masterpiece.

His masterpiece.

“Your clothes are dirty because of me.” He followed your gaze down to take a look at himself, and sure enough he noticed random patches of paint every here and there, but he didn't care.

“It's okay, I have spare ones in my office anyway.” He calmed you down.

Noticing how suddenly you saddened up he began worrying that maybe he overstepped, maybe it was too early for this step, maybe-

But you silenced his panicked mind with a simple hug.

He took a second to reciprocate, surprised by your affection.

You looked fragile in his arms, as if the whole confidence from an hour ago has left you.

He got worried that maybe he really did something wrong.

“We shouldn't have.” You said gently into his neck, not pulling back.

“We shouldn't.” He agreed.

“Do you regret it?” Your voice broke, as if you wanted to cry.

“No.” He answered instantly, not a hint of hesitation. “Do you?” You shook your head.

Pulling back from him you fixed your shirt to hide your chest, the material didn't lay on you as good as it did before but it had to do for now.

“You're my professor.” You looked into his eyes, he looked at you with worry plastered on his face, nodding his head gently. “No one can know.” You said and stoop up from your seat on shaky legs.

Instantly his hand caught your waist to stabilize you, to which you responded with a grateful smile.

“It will be our secret.” You said while not moving away from him just yet. He nodded once again, too stunned to speak, you didn't just turn around and leave him alone after you got what you wanted?

You smiled at him again, looking like an angel in his eyes.

Pulling even closer to him you gave him one more kiss, savouring the feeling for later.

And then finally you turned around gathering your things slowly.

You heard him walking away, but didn't glanced back at him, a sound of a key turning in the lock broke the silence. You reached under your skirt to fix your panties, which didn't feel comfortable as of now at all.

But then when you picked up your bag from the floor you felt something dropping onto your shoulders.

His cardigan.

You looked behind you while holding the edges of his sweater together.

Without any words he simply kissed you once again, putting all his feelings into that one, last peck.

Pulling apart felt like a crime, but you had to.

“Have a good day, professor.” You turned around and moved away, glancing one last time over your shoulder before going through the door.

Luckily there wasn't anyone on your way through the university's hallway as most people already finished with their lectures for today.

You walked out of the building and took a very much needed breath of fresh air.

Your mind worked overtime, what will happen after today?

Will he act like he didn't do anything?

No, there's no way he will, right..?

Your legs still felt like jelly and with every step you took you could feel the way your abdomen squeezed in uncomfortable motion. Your long and hurried steps didn't help it, as you wanted to make it home as soon as you could.

You needed your bed, or a bath, preferably both.

You picked out your phone to check the time, noticing that it was an hour after your usual lecture ending time.

Next thing you noticed were notifications from social media and your group chat with Sora and Angie.

The Normal One

[5 images send]

if our professor won't tap that I know people who would

The images were you during the lecture, specifically you sitting and focusing on your painting, outfit dirty from paints, not caring about the world even a bit.

You had to admit you looked hot.

Horny Demon

IM GIVING HIM ONE WEEK MAX BEFORE HE WILL LOSE HIS CHANCE

The Normal one

sure, we both know that you just don't want to lose our bet

Horny Demon

I NEED THAT ICE CREAM U PROMISED OKAY?

Anyways where the hell is our teacher s pet?

@.Professor's Princess wake the fuck up

The Normal One

the lecture should have ended like 30 minutes ago

Horny Demon

SUS

The Normal One

why?

Horny Demon

DID SHE FINALLY FUCKED HIM???

The Normal One

hell nah... I think

Horny Demon

@.Professor's Princess @.Professor's Princess @.Professor's Princess

IF YOU WONT ANSWER IN THE NEXT 5 MINUTES IM CHANGING YOUR NAME TO PROFESSOR S SLUT

The Normal One

lmao even threats started

Horny Demon

I NEED TO KNOW!!!

The Normal One

let me just tell u that if she actually does fuck a professor rn u won't know until later, so be patient baby ❤️

Horny Demon

Fu

The Normal One

is that a proposition?

Horny Demon

:*

The last text was from 10 minutes ago. You ran your fingers through your hair and took a moment to gather your thoughts before answering.

Professor's Princess

I'm here

Instantly you saw the ‘viewed by...’ under your message.

Horny Demon

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN YOUNG LADY?

Professor's Princess

Guess :p

Horny Demon

OH YOU SO WERE WITH UR HOT PROFESSOR

The Normal One

you don't respond to my messages that fast lmao

Professor's Princess

10 points to Hufflepuff 👏

Horny Demon

OH MY GOD???

The Normal One

ain no fucking way.

Horny Demon

YOU FUCKD HIM?!!!

Professor's Princess

not yet ;)

Horny Demon

???

ARE U HOME YET???

Professor's Princess

Getting there

Horny Demon

CALL US THE MOMENT YOULL WALK THROUGH THE DOOR WE HAVE A URGENT TOPIC TO DISCUSS!

Professor's Princess

yes, ma'am

The phonecall lasted an hour, at some point you were making yourself food in your underwear while talking to them about what happened, too lazy to put on fresh clothes.

Their reactions to the knowledge about the Rafayel finger fucking you in his classroom were absolutely priceless.

Angela screamed and dropped her phone, running around her apartment like crazy (luckily her roommate wasn't home), while Soraya opened up her camera just to show you her shocked expression that lasted 2 minutes before she started laughing so much she couldn't breathe.

Once again they promised not to tell anyone your secret, teasing you for seducing your professor for the whole hour after which you finally said goodbye.

You sat down on the couch with your food, turning on the TV on some random channel to entertain yourself during your dining.

The feeling of his fingers working deep inside you didn't leave your memory for even a second. Holy shit you actually did it.

Glancing at the carelessly thrown onto the floor clothes you felt your cheeks heat up.

He made you feel so good, so comfortable... As if you knew him for much longer than two and half months, as if your body recognized him, craved him the way your mind did.

For whatever reason you believed that he won't hurt you, won't break your heart, instead treating it like his dearest treasure.

Your eyes moved to your half finished dinner before turning to the TV screen where main characters currently confessed their love to each other in some depressive settings.

Then you looked down onto yourself.

A random loose t-shirt thrown onto your bare upper body hiding the material of your underwear almost perfectly. Of course it was fresh underwear, the other one felt too uncomfortable after your juices completely drowned it...

You moved to lay on your back, knees up, opening your legs slightly.

Your hand moved down to caress your clit through your panties...

You didn't know why but the sudden need for relief was too hard to resist. Closing up your eyelids you reminded yourself of the way his body pressed into you through the fabrics of your clothes, the way his hard length, that you didn't have time to play with, felt, the way his eyes gazed into yours, watching you attentively as you surrendered to the pleasure he graced you with.

Your fingers slipped under the damp material, you let out a shaky moan.

“Rafayel...” You whispered into the night.

Unknowingly to you: your little fun disrupted someone's attempts at painting...

With each second of your body falling deeper into the pleasure he could feel it in his whole body, his mind clouding with memories of your sounds and expressions, your painted body showing before his eyes each time they fell closed.

Oh how much he would give to be next to you right now...

But he had to settle for less as of now.

His hand traveled past the waistband of his loose pants, his vivid imagination showing him sinful images of what could have happened if you were next to him right now.

And together but separately you chased after the pleasure, calling out each other's names into the nothingness as you let yourself go, wanting only one thing.

To cross all boundaries.

“I heard bitches from my class talking about your man like they were dogs in heat.” Angela complained while sitting next to you and Soraya.

All three of you had some free time before the next lectures and decided to kill some time in the academy cafeteria.

“My man?” You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“Your future man if you want to focus on the details, which we don't do, cause he's your man already in my eyes.” She added, looking at you like you just insulted her entire family.

You nodded slowly, picking up your drink to run away from the topic.

“I swear I'm this close to closing you and him in some empty room just to force you to talk about your feelings.” Yeah, she wasn't about to drop it.

“Our feelings? How do you know how he feels about me, he might as well just be playing around.” You voiced your concerns out loud, even though you tried not to think about that possibility.

“Girl, are we deadass right now?” Oh she was mad...

“Honestly if he was just playing with you as you said, he wouldn't get you off and treat you like a porcelain while not letting you touch him at all to return the favor.” Soraya finally spoke up. “Guys think with their dicks, if he didn't feel anything towards you be wouldn't act like... That.”

“How can you know how guys think? You have never dated one in your entire life.” You said jokingly, but honestly grateful for the reassurance.

“Are we for real right now? Who doesn't know how the male gender works?” She looked insulted, you chuckled at the sight.

“Anyways.” Once again you turned your head to Angela. “I'm sure that he likes you back. Really, from what you told us he seems crazy over you, dare I say.” Suddenly instead of a playful, mischievous spark you saw honesty in her eyes.

“I wish I could believe that, but really we haven't talked even once. It's all about stolen glances and touches away from prying eyes. I just wish he would tell me what am I to him, but really we have no way of even having this conversation.” We have no right to be, you thought.

”Oo-ooh...” You glanced at 'Raya, noticing her eyes focused on something in the distance, following her gaze you and Angela turned around.

Rafayel was standing in the entrance to the hall with his arms crossed... Looking straight at you...

“Someone's in trouble..?” Angela whispered to you, staring at your professor.

“I don't think so..?” You whispered back.

Noticing how your attention was finally on him he grinned slightly and turned around to leave. Suspiciously glancing back at you over his shoulder before disappearing.

“Go to him.” You looked over at your classmate, unsure. “Ain no way he was here by accident, looking at you like he wanted to eat you whole, run, girl, I think your talk is due.”

Not waiting for second thoughts to appear you stood up and fixed your dress, abandoning your almost finished lunch in the name of what you think was love...

“Be ready to buy me those ice cream.” Angie said, looking in the direction where you disappeared a second ago. She heard a snort coming from her girlfriend and smiled, hoping for the best for you.

Meanwhile you were busy chasing Rafayel's shadow while trying not to look too suspicious to the students you passed.

Damn this building was really huge, you remembered how many times you lost your way during your first year here.

Taking another turn you didn't see him in front of you anymore.

There were three corridors before you and no sight of Rafayel... Where could he go? It was a wing full of storage rooms, almost no one passed by here on accident.

Looking around you noticed one door on your right slightly ajar, soft light coming from the inside.

Unable to turn back now you slowly strolled towards the door, coming close enough to it you took one deep breath before reaching for the door handle and opening it wider without any rush.

First thing you noticed was a painting work place, canvas turned away from you, not letting you see what's on it, then your gaze moved to the side, a silhouette looked out of the window, as if oblivious to your presence.

For a moment longer you contemplated turning around and walking away, but then you heard his voice, “Leaving already?” And instantly you froze with a hand still holding onto the door handle.

You swallowed nervously, feeling a lump in your throat. “I didn't want to disturb you, professor, sorry.” Your voice sounded unsure, even though you tried your best to hide your stress.

It was easier when he made the first move...

You waited for him to say something, each second dragging like hours spent in the room without anything to do but think.

Noticing how he didn't move an inch, still facing away from you, you began feeling shy, as if all the things that happened between you weren't truly real, as if it was something completely made up by your mind.

You took a step back. “I should-”

“Don't go.” Finally his head turned your way, his eyes falling onto your hesitant form.

He looked... Sad?

You looked at each other for a moment, holding your breath as if letting it out would pop the bubble you created around yourself.

Then you finally took a step forward, then another one, closing the door behind you.

All the while keeping eye contact with the man of your dreams.

The silence lasted a while longer, either one of you not knowing how to start this conversation.

And when you finally opened up your mouth you noticed him walking towards you hurriedly.

“Professor-” His lips landed on yours, your bag fell to the ground.

You let out a high pinched squeak from the shock, instinctively trying to pull away but he didn't let you, his palms raised to your face, holding it sternly but without causing you any pain.

Your hands reached up to his elbows, grasping onto them to steady yourself, eyes falling close as you reciprocated the maddening kiss.

His lips moved against yours like there was no tomorrow, as if he needed you like air.

He took a step closer to your body making you stumble, your faces broke away from each other for a moment, “Rafa-” He didn't let you finish, instantly leaning in again to kiss you.

Your body met with the wall behind you, his palm fell to the back of your head to ensure you won't hit it too hard, his other hand reached behind you to lock the door with a key before returning to you, embracing your waist.

Your hands fell plain to his torso, you didn't know what was happening, all the stress from a minute ago seemingly disappearing, but the uncertainty stayed there.

You were busy making out for at least a couple of minutes, swallowing each other moans at the slightest touch of your bodies, but you had to finally break away from the kiss because of the need to breathe.

Turning your head to the side you let his lips fall to your cheek, both of you breathing heavily.

“I have another lecture to attend.” You said quietly, not really wanting to move away.

“I'll take care of that later, just stay with me.” He answered and you weren't going to argue.

You turned to face him once again, your bodies pressed together tightly, you could feel his penis hardening up against you, your cheeks heat up.

“We really shouldn't.” You said while looking into his eyes.

“Do you want to leave?”

You shook your head. “Hell no, I dreamed of you every day.” You confessed, watching his ears gain a pretty pink color.

“Then stay, and let me devour you.” His lips fell onto yours again, hands grabbing onto the material of your dress while his body continued pressing you into the wall.

Your arms embraced his neck, holding him tightly, the thought of him moving away unbearable.

“Please, professor.” You breathed out against his lips, unable to tear away from him. “Take care of me.” His hands slid down to your ass, grabbing it tightly before forcing you to jump onto him, your legs wrapped around his waist without a protest, the skirt of your dress rode up.

Making sure to keep you steady in his arms he walked over to his desk, not stopping his abuse on your mouth for a moment, his tongue meeting with yours.

One of his hands left you to throw off the things laying abandoned on his desk before sitting you down on it.

His hands began exploring your covered body, not letting an inch of your skin go untouched, from your back to your shoulder, stomach to chest, thighs down to your knees.

He wanted to imprint the way you felt into his mind, paint your image into the back of his eyelids to see you every time he closed his eyes.

He was drowning in your presence and didn't even want to look for saving, accepting his fate with open arms and heart.

His fingers digged into the skin of your thighs, your hips moved involuntarily, raising to meet his.

He let out a moan at the touch, the friction making his dick twitch in his pants.

Oh you were playing with fire and were not afraid to burn.

Your hands moved from his neck to his collar, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt, the need to feel his bare hot skin too hard to resist.

You popped out the last button, palms instantly coming to touch him, caressing his soft skin roughly, you were dreaming about the moment you'll finally be able to touch him like this.

Fuck morality.

His palms moved back to your ass, bringing you to the edge of the desk and up to meet his hips.

Your lips moved in sync while you grinded onto each other like there's no tomorrow.

He pulled back from you just to drop his head to your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses on your skin, loud and wet.

You arched into his touch, not wanting to be separated from him for even a second, his fingers traveled under your dress, just like the last time - teasing you through your panties.

“You're already soaked.” He whispered into your skin, coming back to worshipping your neck right after.

You shamelessly rubbed against his fingers, seeking them out, needing them to touch your clit, to sink into you, touch you the way you needed.

Your palm wandered down to his pants, pressing against his hard on.

“Ah-” He moaned surprised, throbbing against your hand.

You began playing with his belt clasp, your mouth opening in a silent whimper when his hand started moving against you faster in response to your actions.

Not wanting to get a princess treatment like the last time you made a quick work with opening up his belt and letting it drop on the floor, unzipping his pants a second later.

But before you could slip your hand into his boxers, his fingers proved to be faster, moving beneath your panties to press against your bare clit.

You couldn't sustain your moan, hips moving up in a reflex, pressing into his palm.

His hand began drawing circles against you, sucking onto your collarbone hard enough to leave marks.

But you didn't let him have all the fun.

Your palms brought the material of his underwear down, exposing him to the cool air of the room.

He stood tall in your hand, precum glistening from the head, you could barely see it with his shoulder in the way of your vision.

But you didn't need to.

Tightening up your grip you began stroking him, feeling each vein pulse against your fingers.

You relished in the soft sounds he let out against your neck, his hot uneven breath tickled your skin.

And then he struck back.

Two of his fingers stretched you out, your thighs tensed up for a moment before letting go, your body accepting the intrusion.

You were so wet you didn't feel any pain or discomfort, that was the way he affected you.

Your hand began moving again in sync with his digits working inside you, he stopped with the kisses, but left his head pressed to your shoulder, needing to be close to you.

You pleasured each other, enjoying every sound made by your bodies, the way your cunt squelched with every move of his fingers, the way you could hear your hand working on his dick, the feeling of his precum smearing across him with every stroke, the way your hearts seemed to beat in sync, and the way your breaths heavier with each second.

Your head empty, leaving only the current moment to matter, nothing outside of this study worthy of your attention.

Suddenly his fingers thrusted into you surprisingly hard, staying knuckles deep in your cunt for a moment, as if taking in the feeling of your clenching walls, you let out a loud moan when they pressed into that one spot making you see stars.

Your palm gripped his dick in response, making him groan.

“I need you.” He panted under your ear, taking out his digits from your hole and taking a step back making you lose your grip on his manhood.

You looked at him questioningly, but didn't have time to voice your thoughts when he grabbed your hips making you stand up.

“Raf-?” He turned you around, making you bend over until your chest met the hard wood of his desk.

You looked over your shoulder, feeling him hitch the material of your dress up, letting it stay wrapped on your waist and moving your panties down, not even letting you step out of them when they fell to your ankles before his chest pressed against you.

You felt the head of his dick pressing against your clit before he used one hand to raise it up to your opening.

“Can I, princess?” He kissed your shoulder gently, using his hand to drag his penis up and down your slit, not daring to put it in without your permission.

You nodded your head hurriedly. “Please, professor, I waited for so long.” You let out, bracing yourself against his desk, preparing for what comes next.

“You're getting off to the thought of your professor fucking you? And here I thought you were more innocent, turns out you're a naughty girl huh?” You grinned to yourself at his teasing, close to letting out a giggle until you felt his head pushing in.

You opened your mouth in a silent moan, head falling down to lay on the hard surface as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Slowly he slid into you, inch by inch, your walls welcoming him in.

“Oh fuck-” You whispered when he pushed last inch in, fitting so well inside you.

You felt his hot breath on your back, his hands moving to grab onto your waist, holding you tightly.

He gave your skin one last affectionate kiss before starting to move, leaving your heat halfway before pushing in again, your body rocked with his thrust.

He didn't stop after that, slowly finding his rhythm.

Your hands gripped onto the edges of the desk, he felt so good, like you were meant to fit together,

“Please, faster.” You plead him, looking over your shoulder to meet his lust driven eyes.

“Oh? Is that not enough to satisfy you, princess?” Fuck, his unusually deep voice did things to you.

Feeling you clench at his comment he chuckled in a low tone, as if amused.

“Do you need something more like...” He gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin. “This?” He thrusted into you harshly, making the entire desk move. You cried out, arching your back.

He repeated the motion, this time moving his hips back until only the head remained inside you before sinking in deep, his balls hitting your clit.

You moaned at the stimulation, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you forever.

“Tell me, princess, do you like it hard, like this?” He began thrusting again, his tempo increased, not acting gentle now in the slightest, taking what he wanted; what he knew you wanted.

You were like a doll in his arms, ready for him to do anything to you, you could take it.

His fingers took a grip on your hair, pulling your head back harshly, making you arch deeper.

“I asked,” He said right next to your ear, not stopping his hips for a moment. “Do you like it?”

“Yes-” You tried to make a sentence but he sped up the tempo at the same time you let out a word, “Fuck- yes, professor! Please fuck me hard!” You nearly screamed, forgetting where you are.

“Good girl.” He praised, fixing his angle to penetrate you deeper, hitting all your weak spots. You felt your mind go dumb, pussy clenching around him at his words. “I'll give you what you want.” He straightened up, letting go of your hair.

He gripped your waist and hips, his length restlessly moving in you, not giving you a second to breath.

Oh fuck he hit so deep-

You felt your orgasm begging to build, walls involuntarily tightening up around him.

You heard the prettiest, nastiest moan leaving him the moment he felt you clench around him.

His hand left your waist to move to your clit, pressing and caressing it roughly.

You choked on your scream, feet moving to stand on your toes.

You didn't know whether you tried to move your hips back against him, allowing him to hit your sensitive spots even easier, or pull away from his dick at the overwhelming sensation.

“You gonna come for me?” He asked, almost out of breath, feeling close himself, but not wanting to reach his peak before you.

You nodded your head weakly, hips thrusting back against his rapidly, pleasure consuming you.

Wet sounds of sex echoed from the walls, massaging your eardrums in the best way.

“Rafayel-” You let out a yelp, his hand working against you, guiding you to the pleasure you didn't know before.

“Come for me, princess.” Fuck you couldn't take it anymore.

Your pussy clenched around him as if wanting to keep him there forever, hands bracing against the desk to keep you from hitting your head, legs shaking.

You let out a pornographic moan, riding out your intense orgasm.

You wanted this for so long.

Despite the hand from your clit going missing he didn't stop his abusing thrusts, desperate to reach his peak, overstimulating you. “Professor-” You let out weakly, arm reaching behind you to press against his stomach.

“You can take some more, can't you?” He whispered, lost in his pleasure.

You moaned in protest, not sure whether you could handle him for much longer without a break.

He gave you one hard thrust before going still for a moment, balls deep inside you.

You thought he stopped for good, but then he reached for your leg, moving it up until your knee touched the surface of the desk, your panties laying flat on the floor around your other feet.

“Just a little more, baby.” He said, grabbing your ass and looking at the way your pussy stretched out around him.

Then he began moving again, instantly going fast.

You moaned, tears swelling in your eyes at the overstimulation, but you can take it; for him.

“Fuck, your cunt feels so good.” He whispered with invisible to you hearts in his eyes.

You stayed obedient, taking what he gives you, needing his release like you needed painting: necessary for the peace of your soul.

“I'm close-” He moaned out, losing his rhythm.

“Come inside, please!” You begged, looking over your shoulder with pleading eyes.

He looked uncertain.

“I'm on the pill, please, give it to me, Rafayel.” You grabbed the shirt that stayed on his shoulders this entire time, not allowing him to move away from you.

That argument seemed to work, because in a second he reached for your hand, clasping it with his own while the other embraced you tightly, pulling you to him.

“I'll give my everything to you, princess. You don't even need to ask.” He pulled up his hand from your waist to your chin, making your head tilt to the side, swallowing your moans in a kiss.

And then; he came.

Stopping his movements inside you with his dick filling you up to the fullest, throbbing while his cum shot into you.

You moaned into the kiss, both of you hungry for each other, open mouths moving against one another with full intention of sucking the other's soul out.

He pulled away to breath, his forehead meeting with yours, eyes closing when he came back from his high.

It took him a moment, but he had to finally pull out his softening dick from your warm and comfortable walls.

His cum leaked from you the moment he pulled out, he almost got hard again at the view, but he couldn't let himself go that far just yet, he needed to take care of you first.

He pulled up his underwear and pants in a rush, you stayed in the same position he left you in, trying to get your breathing to steady.

He pulled your leg down from the desk, holding your waist to make sure you won't fall when standing up, one of his hands moved to help you raise your other leg up, letting your panties fall to the floor completely.

He moved to his desk chair, holding you tightly and making you take a step with him before he fell onto the seat, pulling you after him to sit on your side on his lap.

Your head fell to his shoulder, chest raising up and down rapidly, heartbeat still going crazy.

He hugged you tightly, letting you rest in him for as long as you'll need it. His palm reached to brush your hair from your resting face before falling once again to your back, caressing it softly.

“You were perfect.” He whispered into your hair, planting a sweet kiss on your head, hearing your content sigh at the gesture.

He noticed you opening up your suddenly heavy eyes, gazing up at him.

“Hm?” He looked right back at you with a small smile.

Your hand moved up, touching his cheek gently and bringing his face to yours, your lips meet in a soft kiss, the simple affection providing comfort to the both of you.

You didn't know yet what that meant to your relationship, but one thing was obvious:

There's no way you'll let each other go separate ways after that.

Your kiss broke, your head falling into the crain of his neck as you cuddled.

Your eyes opened lazily to take in your surroundings, something you didn't have time to focus on before.

The walls were in a cold blue tone, floor and the furniture in dark brown, ceiling plain white.

It wasn't much, but it felt cozy, despite the melancholic feeling it brought you.

Then your eyes picked at something you saw earlier, but from a different angle.

The canvas you noticed before bears an unfinished painting of a female silhouette in a white dress sitting on the road, drawn from her back, she watched an ocean that spread in the distance, between the trees on the sides looking like they opened up before her to show her the view.

Beautiful, like each work of Rafayel's.

You didn't linger on who might be the woman in his painting, too tired to think.

“Tired?” He asked as if reading your mind. You nodded into his chest, not wanting to move an inch away from his embrace.

A moment of silence followed before he spoke up again.

“I need to get you home.”

“Already?” You murmured, still not moving.

“Everyone's in lecture right now, it'll be easy to sneak off through the side entrance.” He explained with a chuckle at your behavior.

“Yhym, okay...” You agreed, still not moving-

He chuckled once again, standing up with you in his arms and placing you back onto the chair, without him under you for support.

You opened up your eyes again to send him a questioning glance, but he didn't take notice of it, walking over to the other side of the room and opening up one of the shelves.

You watched as he picked a folded black fabric and began taking off his pants.

Your eyes widened but you didn't turn around, taking in the sight of his legs...

“It's not nice to stare, you know.” Looking up you noticed that he was watching you with a smirk.

You blushed a little but also grinned slightly.

“I'm just enjoying the show,” You said to which he only shook his head and unfolded what turned out to be a fresh pair of pants, putting them on. “Why are you changing?”

He looked over at you with an even bigger smirk. “Because someone's pussy left stains that would look too suspicious for others.” He watched as you suddenly got shy, hiding your face in your knees. Cute.

Laughing he buttoned up his shirt, leaving the last two buttons open, then he picked up another fabric from the shelf before closing it and moving back to you.

You felt his arm embracing you and pulling you up to stand which you did without a protest.

The uncomfortable feeling in your legs and stomach was back, you let out a sigh before you could stop it.

“It's okay. I'm here.” He said while holding you tightly to his body, comforting you when you didn't even know you needed it.

You felt his hands traveling past your waist to your sides, his fingers fixing the previously pulled up by him fabric to cover your ass again, you felt something soft wrapping around you a second after.

Glancing down you noticed he covered your legs with a blanket, wrapping it around your waist.

Without waiting for any comment he picked you up princess style, holding the fabric to your body together with your bag that he picked up from the floor a moment earlier.

Your hands came up to his neck immediately, sending him a questioning gaze.

“Hold tight and press your face to my shoulder.” He began walking to the door with you.

“What if someone recognizes me anyway?” You did as you were told anyway, not in the mood to be rational.

“There's no cameras on the path we'll take and everyone has lectures in a different wing, as you probably already know, besides: do you really think I care about this job enough to give a shit?” He unlocked the door, giving you a fake-hurt expression before focusing on walking down the quiet corridor.

You pressed your face tighter into him, enjoying the way he carried you in his arms, even if you should be scared half to death right now.

“It's really risky.” You mumbled, not really caring at this point.

“Not enough of a reason for me to let you walk back home on your own again, I already failed at taking care of you once, won't do it again.” You looked up at the side of his face, could you fall even deeper for this guy?

You squinted your eyes the moment you walked through the exit door, sunlight not sparing your eyeballs the pain.

He carried you all the way to his car before letting you down right before the passenger doors, fishing up the key from his packet that he picked up from the floor earlier after he threw off everything from the desk...

Clicking a button he heard the car unlocking, instantly he reached to open the door for you and make sure you and the blanket are both tugged inside before closing them.

He glanced around; no living being in sight.

Walking around the car he finally sat in the driver's seat, giving you your bag back.

He turned on the car and drove off in silence that stayed for longer, both of you comfortable just sitting in each other's presence.

You searched through your bag for your phone, finding it pretty fast you unlocked it to see whether you had any new messages.

There were a few not from the group chat, but from the private chat with Soraya.

Ray of Pessimism

some people in class asked why u disappeared, I said u threw up in the bathroom and went home, make sure to follow the sorry tomorrow or we're fucked

story* fcking autocorrect

btw i'm not sending it on groupchat cause apparently angie got some assholes in her next class that don't know what's privacy, she hid the chat but if we send smth there it will be visible again, so wait until she'll give u the greenlight to text there

after all we don't want u or ur hot professor in trouble, do we now

You giggled a bit, not caring about Rafayel's gaze turning to you curiously.

Me

Got it, and thank you, I'll make sure to stick to your story :p

ttyl

You put your phone back into your bag, gazing out of the window.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You turned back to Rafayel whose eyes were fixed on the road.

“Just thinking about... Us.” You exhaled, still not sure what to call the situation you found yourself in.

“What about us?”

“Just... What are we, and what we're supposed to do with this situation.” He glanced at you, not looking stressed in the slightest.

“What do you want us to be?” He asked, like the answer was the easier thing to say out loud.

“I'm... Not sure?” You said uncertainty, wishing for him to make the decision.

“Not sure huh? Because I think you're pretty sure, actually.” He stopped the car and got out of it a moment later, like he didn't just make your overthinking go wild.

The door to your side opened and only then you finally noticed that you were next to your place of living.

Wait, how did he know where you live-

He offered you his hand which you took, carefully exiting the vehicle on your still shaky legs.

He walked you over to the doorsteps, supporting you all the way to make sure you won't stumble and fall.

Right before your door you turned around to face him, unsure of what should be said.

Both of you stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other and thinking too much.

“I just-”

“I wanted to-”

You laughed at the accident, he smiled in return.

“Go first.” You said, he took a deep breath.

“I don't want to be just your professor. I can't do it, I want you too much to stay away.” He admitted, and for a moment you saw vulnerability on his face, something he didn't show often.

You glanced down at your feet for a moment before your eyes returned to his.

“Good, because I didn't intend for it to be just a one time thing.” You said honestly.

Taking a step forward you let your lips fall onto his once again, gentle, unhurried, taking in the moment.

None other part of you touched, letting your lips do the talking without words.

It took a minute or two before you pulled away.

You looked into his pretty eyes, taking in the blush that rose on his cheeks before finally turning around and unlocking your door with a fingerprint.

Opening them up you turned back around. “Wanna come in?” You grinned.

He moved forward before you could have asked a second time, and in the spasm of laughing and taking off your shoes you randomly reminded yourself about one small detail

“Wait, my panties stayed in your office?”

“Did you hear the rumors?” Angela heard from beside her the moment she took a seat in the lecture hall.

“What rumors?” The girl beside her was known for gossip, and despite not being one to believe in rumors easily Angie was still curious.

“Apparently the hottest professor to ever exist fucked someone yesterday, probably in the bathroom.” Angie looked at her classmate with distrust, she was a very good actor...

“How do you know that?”

“Someone saw from a window that he carried a woman to his car.” She said, excited for some reason.

“Damn, okay.” She was this close to taking out her phone and sending you a text about the rumor, but it had to wait for now.

“Do you understand what it means?” The girl continued, not taking a hint to drop it.

“What does it mean?” Girl shut up already, Angie begged in her head.

“If he fucked one student, then it means we have a chance too!” If eyes could kill, the stupid girl would be already laying underground.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Angela turned around, signaling that she didn't want to continue that conversation and heard how the girl began talking about it with someone else a second later.

As if anyone would want to fuck you... She rolled her eyes at the thought.

In the meantime you and Soraya had a lecture with Rafayel, he was talking about something to do with the renaissance, complaining about too many things concerning that exact topic.

“He what..?” You heard whispers from all around you, glancing at 'Raya who sat beside you sent her a questioning glance which she reciprocated, also with no clue what was going on.

“... Fucked a student...” You overheard, and instantly you knew what this was about.

“No way...”

“Rafayel?”

“Who's the lucky girl?”

“I volunteer to be next!”

You glanced at your friend again, who sent you a smirk, raising her hand to her lips and zipping them with an invisible fly in the air.

You chuckled quietly.

“Yeah, who is it?” She whispered into your ear, making you shake harder while suppressing your giggle.

“One more whisper and I'm going to just leave.” You heard your lover's stern voice, instantly all eyes turned to him. “I'm already using my precious time to come here and teach you, when I could be painting instead, if you want a different professor that badly I can quit anytime, don't worry.”

You knew he would, yesterday he told you that he doesn't care if someone knows that he began a relationship with a student, you were both adults, and he really, really didn't care about this job.

He said he agreed to give lectures only because he was bored, and planned to quit after a year or so, which honestly sounded like him.

A couple people began protesting at the thought of him quitting, after all - many attended this class only because it was him and no one else.

An eye candy instead of a 40 year old misogynistic dude was rare enough, they couldn't let this one go.

“We apologize, professor, we were just talking that your partner must be so lucky to have you.” One girl teased, probably expecting instant dismissal from him at the idea of having someone, but to her and everyone's shock, he didn't drop the topic.

“It's the other way around, I'm the lucky one to have her.” He said like it was a well known fact?

Soraya's mouth dropped, looking at you with a smile that she tried to hide.

He turned around and stopped paying attention to the nosy people, continuing with his lecture.

Now: let's wait until the message will spread that he's taken, it will be funny to watch everyone trying to figure out who the mysterious partner is...

©alexrosa13 on tumblr

taglist @pozuki @animegamerfox

[gabbysgoobers]

Arc 3 designs but you gotta hear me out 😭🙏🏾

I wanna start with Ezran because he’ll be 19 after the timeskip and I truly believe he’ll be tall and skinny goddammit!!

Design Thread ⬇️

Okay first, I feel in my bones Ezran should grow up to be tall and lanky. No fat, no muscle, just tall. Even taller than Callum cuz that image is funny to me🙂‍↕️. I thought about what might change his look by the time he’s 19 and the first thing that came to my mind was his hair.

King Harrow's hair worked really well for him and he wore it like that for Ezran’s whole life. I can see Ezran looking at a portrait of his father and wondering what it’d be like to look a little more like him. But also, Ezran is his own king, not his father. So, as opposed to locs, I thought twists would be a fun way to style his hair. I considered giving him braids like the orphan queen but I wanted to keep that up-do silhouette and twists were a great way of doing that.

For his accessories and his outfit, I kept it mostly the same, just shifted it around a bit. I also wanted to keep it very silver. I made his hair beads silver, just like his crown, and the threading on his clothing. His dad was very gold coded so I thought Ezran could be the silver to his father’s gold.

Also I gave him green eyes cuz why tf are his eyes blue when his moms are brown and his dads are green.🤨

2. Imma get Callum out of the way cuz I see no significant change in outfit happening 😭

I kept his outfit the same, I already really liked the blue with hints of red, I just changed where they were located. I also think it’d be cute if Rayla braided little braids into his hair for fun and he just leaves them there.

And since Callum visually bulked out a little bit in arc two so I can see him being like, kind of weirdly muscular. He doesn’t work out. Ever. But I think it’s funny to think that it’s just in his genes. Like being tall and skinny is in Ezran’s lmaooo.

3. Aanya next cuz I had a lot of fun with her.

First I want to talk about her overall silhouette. She's very skinny, even in Arc 2, and I expect she’ll stay that way. Although I see her being very toned and fit, but still skinny. Her outfit though I see being very padded and bulking her out. Making her look bigger than she is and making her look like she’s always battle ready. Her sleeves are big and round and her chest thoroughly padded, making it look like it’s always puffed out. Oh and also she needs to be tall. Not sure why but I can’t imagine a world where she’d be shorter than Ezran.

Her outfit in Arc 2 is already heavily decorated with designs and armour. I didn't put that level of detail here lol cuz I didn’t feel like it but I can see her wearing extravagant outfits, especially the headdress. Here, I took details from her mothers headdress. I also took the design on both her moms clothing and put it on her torso. On Queen Neha it’s right side up and on Annika it’s upside down so I thought it’d be cool to turn it to the side on Aanya, like she’s in the middle between her mothers.

I also noticed the lack of blue on her outfits so I gave her a hint of blue eyeshadow, though I’d never see her fully decked out in makeup like her parents, and hints of blue on her waist and in the ribbons of her hair.

I also puffed out her hair to be more like her moms. I noticed her hair is always slicked back.

4. Last and probably my favorite, Rayla.

I wanted to think about how her look would change realistically. Since she’s said she’s a dragon guard, I think she’d really commit to that over the next few years. Her outfit would change to a lighter blue but I also want to keep her outfit very minimal and aerodynamic like Runaans. Her parents' outfits are very bulky.

I gave her a simple vest and undershirt that drapes down to her legs. I also felt the blue on her parents' outfits were too bright but I knew she couldn’t go back to the assassin's green so I gave her a color a little in the middle. The dark blue she wears in Arc 2 is reminiscent of common outerwear of elves in silvergrove, like Ethari. I loved that outfit but she just didn’t look like a dragon guard. I made her fit teal and also gave her arm sleeves like Ethari’s. I also gave her grey baggy pants which I also noticed are common wear in Silvergrove.

The tattoos on her arms are based off of Runaan's tattoos. Her face tats looks the most like her mothers but I changed them slightly so they’d be unique to her.

And for her hair, it also looks like her mom but I gave her short hair because it felt like a refreshing change. I also like how Ethari’s hair is sort of longer in the back and I tried to give that to Rayla. I think she looks really good!

That’s all but I’m really satisfied with them! And I’d love feedback so if anyone has any suggestions I’m open to editing the designs! (:

[backstageinfatuationvn]

I remember seeing a lil animatic(?) on Twitter on how you worked on Kier’s design for 6 years. I can’t find it anymore tho 😭 but what was your thought process when designing him? I luv luv luvvvv his design smmmm 🥹❤️ you n your co-creator are doing an amazing job 🫶

The animatic is still on my personal twitter account! And thank you!! SUPER LENGTHY POST BUT HERE WE GO!

Originally Kier had black hair and a similar haircut to Kethan (old art from 2024)

The first one was actually him dressed as the phantom of the Opera since he is one of the main inspos (old inspo meme I did)

Kier was originally created 6 years ago actually, back then I also made many versions of him. But the most important one was Gacha (yes I was a gacha kid 💔)

I sadly don't have his gacha photos anymore since it was from a very ancient phone but if memory serves me right, he would've looked like this. Yes I installed the app again HAHAHA

He didn't originally have midnight blue eyes. That was added when I started bringing him back to my works before Backstage Infatuation.

Personality wise, he is originally a yandere! Nothing changed from there in terms of that but interestingly enough... Back then in my gacha days, I originally shipped him with another male OC. A BL gacha series was planned where it centered around Kier's obsession with the male OC but was later discontinued for reasons I cannot remember. It was a long, long, looong time ago.

I focused on other stuff so he started catching dust until I picked him up around early 2024. That's when I started planning for his comeback after remembering past memories on a random tuesday night before sleeping LMAO

I drew two pieces before his redesign (the first two images), this was when I was into the yandere vn games.

Just wanna shout out these two games because these inspired me to make my own!! YOU and HIM and TKATB really inspired me to make Backstage Infatuation (there was also Dramatical Murder). I also have a love for Idol culture and Kpop, so I based Backstage Infatuation on my interests.

It is no secret that Backstage Infatuation is a passion project of mine, most of the characters in the game are old ocs being brought back to life and new ocs being finally used. Kier was one of those OCs that were brought back to life and needed a new makeover.

Fast forward to November 2024, I started redoing Kier and originally came up with his overall face and hair.

Interestingly enough, I actually came up with his idol fit first after seeing an outfit on Pinterest!

This is the original concept of his first idol outfit draft, felt it was too plain but really liked the black and white theme.

Second try and I came up with this! Even added silver feathers to symbolize LUXE's angel theme.

I added midnight blue (with stars) accents and it really made them look ethereal and elegant, at least for me. Which fits the group's original concept!

For his casual outfit, I wanted to go with something stylish and cool at the same time. I went with techwear influence and came up with the outfit now used in the game! Originally he didn't have black leather pants, but denim... It didn't look good in my opinion. 😭

Old and New design comparison

I kinda stole Nightwing's color palette for his clothes and changed a few stuff (mostly the blue)— Sorry I just really like Nightwing 😭 HAHAHA.

Few tweaks there and there, I became satisfied with his design!

I also made different outfits for him, a easter egg outfit I plan to add, his summer outfit and spring time outfit. I do love dressing up my son and exploring different fashions for him. ❤️

I do enjoy designing clothes and outfits. (Already reached the 10 image limit so here's a poorly made collage)

Sorry if this took a long time 😭 I had to find my old gallery saves for some of the pictures but this was such a fun ask to answer! It's nice to have a memory refresh ❤️

I hope this answered everything and so SORRY IF IT'S LENGTHY 😭😭 - Ive (Creator)

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound Masterpost

Sera, high radiant seraphim

I wanted angels to look more human. The whole "biblically accurate angels" thing is not quite as biblically accurate as you probably think.

More under the cut

This gets into some theology. So, I wanted heaven to be more human, since God created man in his own image, and it works best with the lore I am building. It just gives a more heavenly vibe when the angels aren't some creature-things. I want heaven to feel heavenly, okay?

Clothes: I changed her outfit, because the canon one is a bit too complicated and I didn't understand the construction of it. So I did something that's easier for me to understand. It's overall more animation friendly, and that pleases me.

Halo: I have specific ideas about halos. They denote the type and rank of angel they are. Seraphim have two silver ring halos. I haven't decided if I want to make her one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues (the Elder Seraphim) or just the head of the Radiant Seraphim(the broader rank of seraphim). Either could work. But if she's a virtue, I'd need to make a small change to her halo, as per my own lore rules.

Wings: I've decided to give seraphim wings with three sets(six total) of primary feathers, instead of six entirely separate wings. Mostly because I do not want to draw that many wings nor figure out the anatomy of it. It mimics the six-winged look while being easier for me to wrap my head around and draw. I also just like the look better.

They can also be summoned and dismissed at will, because I don't want to have to draw them all the time. It's a cop out, but I will do it.

--Biblically Accurate Angels--

"Biblically accurate" is not quite what most people think. Y'all are like, "biblically accurate angels are crazy looking eyeball and wing monstrosities, no wonder people were scared!" But that's literally not what the bible says.

Angel means "messenger", and they often appear as regular-looking people. Sometimes they have a "countenance of lightning" and "raiment white as snow". Jesus was once described(post-resurrection) as having feet of molten bronze(the molten part is the key: it's literally white-hot, not brown) and hair as wool(specifically referring to the color, not texture, and the commonly associated color is white). These are descriptions of glowing.

The crazier depictions tend to happen in visions or dreams, too. It's likely they were symbolic descriptions rather than literal. That the individual components had a cultural connotation that implied something about them. Many eyes symbolized constant watchfulness, for example. I mean, we sometimes describe an angry person as having fire in their eyes or steam coming out their ears, and that's not literal. We describe a sly person as a snake or a fox, but it's not literal. The book of Revelations and the Old Testament, in particular, use imagery, symbolism, and metaphors A LOT. And things get a little muddy when carried between language, culture, and time. Translation, localization, and modernization are tricky processes.

--Seraphim-- <-Link to some helpful info about this topic, if you're interested in that type of thing.

"Seraph" is a back-formation. It's a singular form of a pre-existing plural word. Seraphim is the plural form. I will probably use seraphs and seraphim interchangeably, so just don't worry about that.

The Hebrew root word "sarap" means something along the lines of "burning". It was often used to refer to snakes (possibly because the venom causes a burning sensation, or maybe as a metaphor for purification). It is only used once to describe a heavenly being, in the book of Isaiah. Every other time, it is translated as "burning ones" or "fiery flying serpent". In Egypt and other surrounding cultures, cobras would be used to symbolize divinity, sovereignty, and royalty. The Hebrews probably adopted the imagery. The seraphim described in the Bible might not even refer to what we typically imagine to be angels.

Long story short; seraphim means fiery flying serpents and symbolize divinity and/or purification.

--Cherubim-- <-Link to more cool info!

While I'm on the topic of the etymology of angels, I might as well address cherubs. Cherubim is the proper plural form, but I will probably use cherubs and cherubim interchangeably as well. Just roll with it, it's fine.

The youthful child depiction possibly comes from some rabbinic folk lore that claims the word is related to the Aramaic term for "like a child" or "youthful", but I'm not sure if that's true.

What I'm seeing most consistently is that they're implied to have wings. It seems commonly accepted that it comes from an Akkadian word meaning, "to bless". One source claims it means "hybrid" or "mount, steed" and refers to winged beasts that the Canaanite sky god would ride. Which would align with the depictions of cherubim as tetrads(a hybrid of four creatures), and/or the use of it as some sort of divine flying chariot.

There are a lot of theories, but nothing concrete. It gets very unclear and I'm not an expert. But I'm incorporating a variety of ideas into my lore, and I think I'm doing good with balancing them.

--

In the end, I'm using the terms seraphim and cherubim to describe ranks of angels, because it's what works best with our current understanding of the words. I'm not going to include the other traditional classes of angels like dominions, thrones, etc, because it's overly complicated, and not actually biblical. I don't want to waste brain power on that. Also, the Bible doesn't actually describe the hierarchy of angels at all. It's not even clear if seraphim and cherubim are supposed to be considered angels.

[syoddeye]

hmmm therapeutic and fluffy waxplay with johnny.

you text johnny a single emoji: 🕯️. the shorthand carries the weight of your day, the tightness in your chest, and the fact you are one song away from losing it in the car. he doesn't reply. he doesn't need to. he knows the drill.

he moves through your apartment with a quiet, buzzing urgency, the same precision he'd use to sweep a floor in the field.

he queues your favorite playlist first. nudges the coffee table against the wall. lays out a blanket and pillow on the floor. he fetches your basket and peels off his shirt, already humming with anticipation as he stretches on the floor.

when you get home, it takes everything to step through the door. you keep your eyes down, unwilling to look at him yet. the stress of your day is eating you alive, and the last thing you want is to do is cry.

johnny understands this, though it's the worst, most difficult part for him—to let you pass untouched, retreating into the bedroom to change into comfortable clothes and take a moment for yourself.

while you prepare, he lies back on the blanket. he always chooses the side—tonight, he's on his back. he wants to watch you, assess, and work out everything going on in that head of yours. he stares at the ceiling, waiting, steadying himself.

when you reemerge, you drop to your knees beside him and light the tealight. you cover it with the holder, lay the spoon in its cradle to warm, and choose wax colors with care. he holds up five fingers: that's your limit for the evening. it's generous, but he can take the heat. literally.

months ago, this would've been unthinkable to him—shaving a patch of chest hair, lying there, and letting wax drip over his skin. but he always said he'd try anything once. and now, here he is, because this is your ritual, something built on trust and quiet experimentation.

the pain sharpens him and it makes him alive in a way that's safe. controlled. he's learned to crave it, but mostly, he's grown to crave the change in you. the way your focus softens as the wax falls, the careful way you press the stamps without letting them sear. never repeating the same one twice, just in case.

when you finish, he's grinning up at you despite the sweat matting his hair and the stinging bites on his chest. there's something wolfish in the way his grin matches the peace on your face—the drop in your shoulders, the relaxation of your jaw.

you gently pry the stamps free, balancing them on your thumb one by one to show him: coins of glittery, gradient wax embossed with tiny shapes. flowers, animals, moons, and suns.

by the time you're done, he's pitching a tent in his sweats, and he knows you'll both get to that, but for now, he lets you stroke your fingers over his pinkened skin. you're home. you're lighter. that's all that matters.

[oikasugayama]

You can't escape from chuuya 😜 the same as with dazai with the reader with a short skirt nsfw I wanted the most chuuye😠

fiiiiine, fine. Have Chuuya smut that's twice as long as the Dazai one ;)

MDNI, NSFW, fem!reader in a short skirt, 5k of filthy dirty nasty smutttt, name calling, brat taming, spanking, daddy (only once), fingering, cum eating, blow job, all sorts of shit ok. MDNI MDNI MDNI

You’re always professionally dressed at work. Members of the Port Mafia are paid handsomely, so you can all afford to dress to the nines, even for a simple day in the office or a dangerous tryst out in enemy territory. Like many of your coworkers, you prefer a polished, businessy look when conducting Port Mafia business. You have a closet full of perfectly tailored pantsuits, mostly in black though you do keep a few fun colors should you get the chance to wear them. 

On your days off, however, you’re more or less unrecognizable to your coworkers thanks to the difference in your business style and your personal style. You’re not just fond of bright and pastel colors, you’re obsessed with them. The girlier, prettier, and gaudier a piece of clothing is, the more you love it. You’re inspired by Harajuku, and pastel goth styles, as well as some frilly vintage vibes now and again. You even have a small collection of colorful wigs you like to wear out sometimes when an outfit calls for just the right one. 

One of your favorite outfits includes a black tube top, a cropped pastel pink cardigan that hangs off one shoulder, a black and pink plaid mini skirt over some fashionably ripped fishnet tights and a chunky pair of black platform boots. You like to accessorize of course, and typically go for a pastel pink dog collar choker with a heart pendant, chains hanging across your waist and down one side of your skirt, dangly earrings, and several rings. Depending on your mood, your makeup is either very sharp and black, or very soft and pink, and if you choose to wear a wig, its color is the opposite of the makeup you chose.

On the day you accidentally run into several of your coworkers in a bar, you’re in a pink wig with black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. 

You’re not surprised that they don’t recognize you. At work you have very plain, naturally colored hair, typically smoothed back into a bun, much like Higuchi and Gin do. In a plain black suit, it’s hard to show off your style. Besides, you wouldn’t want any of your fun clothes getting ruined in the line of duty. And it’s not like, on the rare occasion you hang out with your coworkers, that you’ve had time to go home and change. Typically if you go anywhere with them that isn’t for work, it’s just to lunch in the middle of the day, or to a bar at the end of a shift. They’ve never known you to look anything except professional.

This leads you to want to have a little fun with them all, to see how close you can get and what you can start saying before one of them catches on that it’s you.

You walk past the group a few times on the way to the bar or to the table you’re perched at. They don’t say anything about you at first, and they’re not talking about anything important from what you hear. On your third trip past, however, you do catch one of them mentioning you, and you use your ability-- which allows you to focus your hearing on anything you so choose within a certain radius-- to eavesdrop from across the loud room.

“--same chick has walked by like 5 times already,” Tachihara says.

“Are you sure?” Gin asks.

“Why does it matter? We’re in public,” Higuchi says. “People are going to walk by.”

“I know it’s definitely her because, I mean, look at her. Of course I noticed her.”

You pretend like you don’t notice when several curious heads turn your way.

“God, she’s hot,” Chuuya says, whistling under his breath. “Fucking Christ, those thighs.”

“Hey, I saw her first,” Tachihara says, while the others roll their eyes and tell the two to quiet down.

“I’d offer to share, but if I get a piece of that ass, it’s fucking mine.”

“Jesus Christ, Chuuya, you’ve had too much to drink already.”

“We’ve been here 20 minutes, I’ve barely had one glass!” he says defensively.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance if you’re so interested?” Akutagawa asks, disinterested but amused at the notion of Chuuya making a fool of himself.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand at his group. “A hot piece of ass like that you’ve gotta chase a little. I’ve gotta buy her a drink, maybe, then ask her to dance later, then lay on the charm.”

“You’re a real ladies man, Chuuya,” Tachihara says sarcastically.

The conversation gradually turns to something else. You let it drift away since your focus isn’t exactly on them anymore, it’s suddenly on the pulsing desire burning in your crotch. “Holy shit,” you think. “Chuuya wants to fuck me so bad he’s making stupid ass plans for it.” Honestly, he could hit it any day of the week if he’d just ask, but he’s never seemed too interested in you at work. “This is what does it for him, I guess,” you think, downing the rest of your drink. You then decide to grab his attention again by stretching a little, arching your back and raising your arms over your head to make your cropped cardigan and your tube top expose a bit of your belly. It’s not a lot, but for someone already desperate to see more of you, it works.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, eyes on you. You make eye contact with him and wink, and when he smirks instead of looking away, you run your hand up your thigh, pulling your short skirt up even higher. His eyebrows raise, giving you a look like “oh yeah?” and you smile. 

“His move,” you think, using your other hand to twirl your empty glass around a little bit. Chuuya excuses himself from the group and goes to the bar quickly.

You’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

It’s then that the worst thing happens. Higuchi’s phone rings, then Gin’s, and Tachihara’s, and Akutagawa’s, and Chuuya’s, and yours. It’s an emergency alert from the PM. You’re all being called in, and you need to be there fast. You’re only a couple of blocks from the office. All of your coworkers will be there in less than 10 minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. You have to go right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss under your breath, getting up and rushing for the door before the others do. Maybe if you get out ahead of them they won’t notice you--

“God dammit,” Chuuya groans. “I was just about to get her a fuckin’ drink.”

“She’s running out, too,” Higuchi points out.

“It’s weird that she’s going in the same direction as us, right?” Tachihara asks, unsure.

“There are a lot of other things out this way, dumbass,” Chuuya says.

Then you take a left, and the group takes a left. They get closer, and you try to walk faster.

Then you take a right, and they take a right. Then you approach the PM headquarter building.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya asks, rushing forward to try to stop you at the door, but you rush inside as soon as the door opens a crack.

“Hey!” Tachihara calls, rushing in after you. You hit the button to call an elevator, but realize the only available one is several floors away. You’re cornered. The jig is up.

Fuck.

“Heeeey,” you say, slowly turning around to greet the group as they gather. “Any of you know what the emergency is? I’m wondering if it’s about the Detective Agency’s involvement in our failed gun import. I was just telling Akutagawa-san yesterday that I had a feeling they’d end up losing the guns to some other organization stealing them before the Detectives could decide whether to turn us in over it.”

“Oh my god,” Higuchi gasps.

“It’s [Y/N],” Gin says.

“What?!” Chuuya and Tachihara both say, and Akutagawa is the only one to stay focused.

“It likely is exactly that,” he says. “Your foresight is spot on as usual.”

“What’s with this outfit?!” Higuchi asks, feeling your cardigan and grabbing the hem of your skirt. “It’s so short! Why are you dressed like this? You were at the same bar as us!”

“This is how I dress on my days off,” you answer honestly, shrugging. The elevator doors finally open and you all start to file in. “And yes, I’m well aware we were at the same bar,” you say, glancing at Chuuya as he shuffles past you. His cheeks blaze and his eyes lock onto the ground, refusing to meet your gaze.

So that’s how it is.

The emergency meeting goes on for two tense hours. It’s exactly what you and Akutagawa thought it would be about, and your group, as well as other Mafia and specifically Black Lizard leaders and members discuss action plans, potential repercussions, and viable reconnaissance missions. When Mori finally announces that you all deserve a break and that you’re meet again in an hour, you’re the first to get up and leave the room, feeling embarrassed to be in a work situation in your fun outfit.

Several footsteps follow you into the hallway, but they all patter off in different directions after a turn here, a turn there.

Only one set of steps follows you into the stairwell. It’s quiet, with very light steps, but you know it’s there thanks to your impeccable hearing.

The same footsteps follow you down two floors, three, four, five…

You feel like you’re being chased, but you think you know exactly who it is, and so the chase is more exciting than it is scary.

You finally get to the floor that your office is on and leave the stairwell. You walk quickly to your office, go in but leave the door cracked, and to test your theory that you’re being followed, you “accidentally” drop your phone after walking a few feet inside. You slowly bend over, letting your short skirt rise up over the curve of your ass, completely exposing your fishnet-covered ass and black thong to anyone who may be standing at the door. You grab your phone slowly, give a cheeky shake of your butt, then stand back up.

Your office door clicks closed behind you, and the lock engages loudly.

“That show for me?” Chuuya asks. You turn to find him leaning against your door. A quick glance down shows you that he’s already at least half-hard in his pants.

“Who else?” you ask softly, leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s cold on your mostly bare ass, but you act cool, crossing one ankle over the other. Your legs look long and sexy stretched out in front of you, and you can tell that Chuuya thinks so too because he can’t stop looking at them.

“It’s a shame we were called away,” you say to break the tension. “I was looking forward to that drink.”

“Were you?” he asks, slowly walking toward you. His hands are deep in his pockets like usual, always acting calm and cool. The look in his eye is different than normal, though. It’s hungry. “Nice to know.”

“You know, you’re not as forward as I thought you’d be,” you admit, leaning back on your hands. You’re on full display for him now. “I half expected you to be all over me as soon as you closed that door.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says, finally standing toe to toe with you. “Tell me to get the fuck out otherwise I will be all over you.”

“Why would I tell you to get the fuck out when I could tell you to come the fuck on already?”

Chuuya makes a noise between a moan and a growl and leaps forward, standing so both of his legs are over yours. He grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss. It’s all tongue and nipping at each other’s lips and hot panting into each other’s mouths.

Your hands shamelessly roam his body once you’ve sat up to meet him. You push his jackets back off of his shoulders so it falls onto the ground. You feel his muscular back and shoulders and arms. You slide your hands lower, feeling his sides and hips. You start messing with his belt by the time he even realizes he can touch you back.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he pants, yanking at your cardigan so you take it off. “Honestly good that you don’t fucking dress like this at work,” he says, yanking your tube top down too so your breasts are exposed. “I’d be fucking you every time I fucking see you.” He gropes your tits, squeezing them and massaging them in his hands. He tweaks your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. 

“Chuuya,” you whine, “why don’t you suck on them if you like them so much?” He looks up at you and smirks, temporarily grabbing you by the hips to push you further back on your desk so you can lay down comfortably. Once you’re flat he climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips, and leans down to your chest. He licks wet stripes across your tit, teasing your nipple with his tongue. He kisses open-mouthed around your boob, refusing to give you what you really want until you finally whine and shift under him, then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and keeps steady pressure on it for several seconds until finally releasing it with a wet smacking sound. He gives the other breast a similar treatment, teasing and sucking and licking. You reach a hand up into his hair, gently moaning his name while you card your fingers through.

He starts grinding his hard-on against your lower belly, just above your crotch given the way that he’s kneeled over you. You whimper and push your hips up, trying to meet him as he grinds. He’s thoroughly attached to your breasts, playing with one nipple while sucking on the other, trading, kissing, sucking hickies onto them. He works a stream of moans and pants and whines from you, getting you to moan his name several times, which makes him grind down onto you harder.

Finally, his hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, his slightly calloused fingers feeling rough on your soft skin. Chuuya flips your short skirt up, wasting no time in cupping your still-clothed cunt and stroking his fingers over it.

“God damn, you’re wet already,” he says, shifting so his face is against your neck.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit, tugging on his hair. He bites not-so-gently, leaving an instant red and purple hickey on a very obvious spot. His fingers slowly spread, coming together again almost squeezing your pussy lips together. He does it again after you moan in his ear, adding more pressure to tease you with, and again, but this time his fingers dip under your panties and bunch the fabric up together. He pulls it up, several inches higher than your body, making the fabric squeeze in between your lips, leaving it pressing against your clit.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, chuckling when you grind up against his hand and your own panties, seeking stimulation. “That why you’re letting me touch your cunt? ‘Cause you think I’m hot?”

“Yeah,” you whine, still grinding upward. It’s working, your movements are giving you little shocks of pleasure as the damp fabric drags across your clit and also teases your pussy somewhat. “I’d let you fuck me too.” Your voice is breathy and unsteady, and Chuuya can tell just from the sound of it that you’re getting really worked up.

“I don’t know, doll,” he says, hovering over you by one hand pressed against the desk beside your head. “I kind of like the view watching you fuck yourself on my hand.”

“It’s not really ‘on your hand’ without your fingers in me.” You could swear that his eyes light up.

“What was that?” He teases you again, drifting his fingers over the extremely sensitive skin of your pussy. “Did you say something--” he dips a finger past your lips just enough to hook around your panties and pull them back, pushing them to the side-- “about my fingers?”

“Fucking tease,” you huff, reaching down to grab his hand, but he becomes an immovable force when you try to push his hand further down. “Oh and that stupid fucking ability of yours.” He laughs at that and tsks at you.

“You’ve got a dirty fuckin’ mouth,” he says. “Maybe you need something good in there to clean it out.” He gets off the desk and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and kicks them to the floor. You sit up to see him in just his black underwear and white t-shirt, palming himself through the fabric. “C’mere and suck this dick.”

You obey, getting onto the ground with shaky thighs. He’d gotten you more worked up than you realized, and knowing yourself, sucking his dick is not going to calm you down, it’s going to get you closer to the edge.

You pull his boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is thick and longer than your fist when you close it around his shaft. You give him a few pumps, spreading some pre-cum down his length, before leaning forward with an open mouth to take him in greedily. You start bobbing your head immediately, trying to take as much of him as possible. He stretches your mouth more than anyone else ever has, and you have a feeling your jaw is gonna get sore if you do this for too long.

Chuuya grabs fistfulls of your hair and uses it to guide you back and forth, setting a quicker pace than you already were. He works up to fucking your mouth, using your head like a sex toy. His tip bounces off the back of your throat multiple times, and you have to focus really hard on not gagging. You get messy, letting spit and drool fall out of the corners of your mouth. Tears also spring up in your eyes from him fucking your throat, but you don’t even try to stop them from falling. Your eyeliner is waterproof, but your mascara isn’t, so some black streaks may fall down your cheeks, but you don’t care. You honestly kind of want to see the fucked out look on your face when this is all over.

“You’re too good at this,” Chuuya moans. “Fucking cockslut, aren’t you? Gonna be my slut now, huh? Gonna let me fuck your throat some more, right? Whenever I want?”

You hum around him but can’t exactly nod given his cock in your mouth. He gets it though, and he also moans when you hum as the vibrations go straight into his sensitive tip when it touches the back of your mouth.

“Gonna cum in your mouth,” he grunts, “gonna make you eat it all.”

You try to shake your head, pushing back on his thighs, whining.

“No?” he asks, slowing down and stopping. “Why not, doll?” He lets you back up, finally letting go of your hair.

“That’s a waste,” you croak out, then clear your throat and try to make the fucked-out sound go away. “If you don’t bend me over my desk and fuck me until I scream I’m never fucking touching you again.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he says excitedly, reaching down for your arms. He picks you up effortlessly thanks to his ability, and for some reason that really does it for you. You moan just from that touch, feeling your pussy throb. Then he turns you around, pushes you down onto your desk, and smacks your ass hard. You yelp and then moan as he rubs the sting out.

“Where do you want me to cum? On your back?”

“In my cunt, dumbass.”

“Geez, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” he hisses, squeezing one hand around the base of his cock while the other swings and spanks you again. “And it’s so fucking hot.” He spanks you again. He refuses to tell you he felt his orgasm building from you telling him to cum inside, though his brain is being overrun by that thought now.

He flips your skirt up and rubs his hands on your ass, squeezing your cheeks and gently smacking them to make them jiggle.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him, earning another hard spank, which you moan loudly in response to, a fun smirk on your face. “I kinda like that,” you coo, wiggling your hips back toward him. “Spank me again, Chuuya-san. I’ve been very, very bad.” 

He spanks you hard and you yelp, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, torn between pleasure and pain. “You’re an asshole.” He spanks you again on the other cheek. “Will you fuck me already, asshole?”

“I would if you’d stop being a bitch.”

“Maybe you’ve gotta fuck the bitch out of me,” you say, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “You’ll never know until you try.”

“Amen,” he says flippantly, pulling your panties to the side again to make sure they’re still out of his way. He rubs his fingers over your wet pussy, dipping between the folds but never into your vagina. He spreads your wetness all over your folds, as if it wasn’t there already, but then he huffs and you hear a slight ripping.

“What was that?” you ask, turning to him.

“Stupid fucking lines are in my way.”

“Lines? My fishnets? You did not just rip my tights, you fucking douche.”

“So what if I did?” he asks, stroking himself with your wet.

“Are you serious? You fucking a-- ohhh, fuck!” You try to insult him again but get cut off by his thick cock skewering you in one swift movement. You’re so wet and ready that he slides straight in, your walls stretching to fit around his girth.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “Your bitch pussy is the best shit I’ve ever felt, I swear to god,” he says, grabbing both sides of your hips as he withdraws and then snaps his hips forward again. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Oh, shit, Chuuyaaa,” you whine, voice going high and strained. “You’re so big, what the fuck? What the-- fuuuck,” you moan as he sets a pace, hips snapping forward every second, filling the room with wet fucking sounds and the smack of his heavy balls against your thighs.

“I’ve gotta fuckin’ see you,” he says after only a minute, backing out of you. You grunt and groan, glaring at him over your shoulder until he once again grabs you with that ability of his and moves you around like you weigh nothing. He has you on your side, one leg hanging off the desk, the other hooked over his shoulder, and then he teases your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it back and forth, up and down your lips, pushing in only near your clit, not near your hole.

“Chuuya, please,” you sigh, reaching down toward where your bodies meet, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the desk. “Please fuck me, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he asks cheekily, moving his hips as if thrusting, only letting his cock rub between your pussy lips.

“Don’t tease me,” you pant, trying to squirm your hips. “Put your cock back in me, now.”

“Now?” he asks, playing dumb.

“Now,” you insist. He rubs his tip against your clit.

“What about now?”

“Stop teasing me!”

“You know, that’s no way to ask for a favor,” he says. “Maybe I’ll just walk away. Then what would you do? Fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“I’ll find Akutagwa,” you huff, trying to loosen your hand from his grasp. He barks out a laugh, whole body shaking for a moment.

“Akutagawa?! He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like this, babe,” he smirks, finally moving his tip back toward your hole. “You really don’t think he could fuck you like I can, right?”

“What if I do?” You try to keep sounding tough, but the brat is being teased out of you, and you really, really want to be fucked dumb on his cock right now. “Maybe-- ahhh--” Chuuya enters you slowly, smirking down at you and the way your eyes roll back before fluttering closed. 

“Maybe what?” Chuuya asks, bottoming out.

“Maybe-- Akutagawa--” you stutter as Chuuya pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, spearing your g-spot as if he was locked on target.

“Akutagawa?” he asks, trying to lead you on as he slowly builds his pace. You try to babble something out, but as he starts properly fucking you, leaning over you and holding your leg up so he can press you into the desk, you just can’t think of anything except for Chuuya.

“Chuuya-- Chuuya-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Ohh, Chuuya!”

The sound alone is enough to make someone blush, your wet pussy gushing around him every time he goes balls deep, his body pressing against yours, getting wet and precum and sweat all over each other's crotches. You both get lost in it, moaning and swearing and giving stupid empath threats to each other.

“You better make me cum,” you say to him, and he responds “You better stop being such a bitch when I make this pussy squirt.”

He starts palming your tits again when he gets close, panting and fucking you as quickly as he can.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You sure I can bust inside?” he manages to ask through his panting.

“Yes,” you moan, “oh fuck yeah. Cum in this pussy, daddy.”

“Daddy?!” he asks, and that’s what does it. You caught him so off guard that his whole body jerks and he hunches over you, cumming a big, hot load into your cunt. His face is burning red, and some sweat drips down his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth dropped open, a tiny bit of drool about to sneak out the corner of his mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he says, but it’s so high pitched and tense that it makes you laugh. Your pussy involuntarily contracts when you laugh, and your whole body slightly jiggles under him, and it makes him yelp and moan again, long and drawn out. “God damn,” he whines, pulling back as if he’s going to back out now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, trying to stop him by the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. “You didn’t make me cum yet. You’re not done here, Chuuya.”

“I’m not but my dick is,” he says, still kind of whiny. “I think you just sucked me dry, I really fucking think you did.” You can’t help but to laugh a little more as he lowers your leg and rolls you onto your back. “It’s only polite--” he says, dropping to his knees “--that I return the favor.” In a flash his tongue is on your pussy, lapping up his cum as it spills out of you. He swallows it without comment, and keeps lapping at your pussy, dipping his tongue into your hole while it’s still nice and open from his cock. You run your hand through his hair again, making sure he can’t pull back too far. You want his whole face in your cunt and you aren’t letting up on this. 

His fingers join his mouth, taking over for his tongue in prodding at your hole. They slip inside, twisting together at the same time as they pull in and out. He teases your g-spot every time this way, and the side of his fingers on your sensitive walls feels so so good. You start moaning his name when his tongue swirls around your clit, working relentless circles on it. He intersperses little sucks on it, and once he even dips his nose down and uses it to rub your clit since it’s a bit firmer than his tongue. He eats you out like an absolute fucking champ, shaking his head and blowing out to give you slight vibrating sensations, suckling to give you quick peaks of stimulation, and flicking his tongue back and forth and rolling it in circles to build your orgasm up higher and higher and higher until finally.

“Oh god, Chuuya-- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-- oohhhh Chuuya!!” Your back arches up, your fists close tightly in his hair, and you force his face into your pussy as you cum on his mouth and his fingers, rolling your hips to meet his touches. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps letting you use him as your orgasm rolls and rolls and finally starts to patter out. Only when you let go of his hair does he sit upright, pull his fingers out of you, and suck your cum off of his fingers.

“You’re a lot of fun, you know that?” he asks, standing up, stretching his somewhat sore muscles.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh happily. Your whole body feels weightless and blissful and you aren’t ready to get up yet, even as Chuuya starts getting dressed.

“You dress like this often?”

“Every day off,” you say, finally having enough energy to at least pull your tube top back up to cover your breasts.

“Good. You should come see me again then.”

“You came to see me. And yes, you should come see me again.” You sit up, tilting your head and smiling mischievously at him.

“Guess I didn’t fuck the brat out of you yet,” he mumbles, reaching up to grab your jaw in his hand. “Next time then.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

[saliosis]

happy halloweeen!! here's my take on a "core refresh" pack (part 6)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 + more under cut

frankie's fashion is very experimental. they like to explore themselves through what they wear since they're just learning things about the world. to symbolize their personality, they have a "quirky" style of fashion. mostly mismatched, mostly all over the place. there's not really a category for frankie's style... not that i can think of. they like to wear anything, honestly. dresses, suits, overalls, shirts, shorts, boots, heels. they're trying to figure out their style, so sometimes they'll incorporate some more colors. they like black and white, but they add teal in. yellow is another color added.

they don't wear real/natural silver because they've learned that this can harm their fellow monsters. any silver accessories they have is fake (painted grey, because that's a way to work around it)

they experiment with piercings

this was in my og design, but they have a huge patch over their left eye. it's plaid, so sometimes they try their best to match their outfits well enough for them to look aesthetically pleasing

likes patterns. stripes, plaid, etc. etc.

clawdeen's fashion is furry and bold. again, this is the fashionista of the school. she is the queen of fashion. again, she likes fur and animal print. whatever she chooses to wear is what usually sets the trends and expectations for those at monster high. she loves to explore herself though. i'd say her style evolves, but these are the main ideas of her fashion. she loves purple, but she also loves green. maybe has a french fashion inspiration? i don't really know how to label it. it's sort of mcbling, but also the style you'd expect of a very cunty aunt who likes shopping. she likes pants best, ngl. jeans are great. skirts are fine by her, she just loves pants.

i like the idea of clawdeen constantly changing up her style. yes, she can also wear something like her g3 outfits. much more coordinated. what i've displayed is the style that takes up most of her closet, tho

she wears glasses, but she has different pairs for each outfit

green is a color she loves so much but doesn't make use of it enough

the wolf family has a little emblem thing i've snuck onto each. it's a golden circle pendant with a small moon on the inside, two little bars holding up the design so it floats. it could also look like a money symbol... idk like coins. it's good luck. mostly for money manifesting and all. she runs with the gold and goes crazy. only gold, no bronze accessories. ever.

on days of the full moon, she will wear super loose clothing. the moon cycles could also impact her fashion choices.

draculaura's fashion is very iconic. a sort of gothy, classic, and romantic sort of look. i'd say she likes to take a spin on victorian styles and make them modern... while also mashing together those 2010s pink/black skull prints and tees that we all know and love. i really like the idea of her in a long dress that hits the floor. i would say she's romantic goth. she likes frills, long ball gowns, lace, and hats that can cover her from the sun whenever she has to travel outside in the daytime. lots of slip dresses if she wants to be more casual. elegance, but done cutely.

the silhouette of an outfit is what matters most to her when it comes to fashion

if she wears a skirt, she wears a big petticoat underneath. a very big petticoat

her parasol can be used interchangeably with a large hat. she always wants either or to match her outfit. and they are always kind of extra

her "victorian" style is a sort of nod to her immortality. she probably likes that fashion period best and likes to try and honor that

i like the idea of her experimenting with her hair. it was a g3 idea, kinda. but bangs, streaks, half and half, etc. i like to imagine draculaura being into the big goth hair

cleo's style is very similar to her g1 style. gold. blues. elegant, fresh, modern, and incredibly easy on the eyes. obviously, she loves to flaunt her designer clothing around school. and since she is so popular, it's expected for her to serve look after look. you will never ever see her look bad. every cleo portrayal i've seen never has enough mummy wrap. she needs it to survive and yet, she only has like, one or two bands on her arms. my cleo's fashion is all about wrap-themed clothing. she has lots of wraps. sometimes she comes up with ways to mix that or even show off her monster trait and heritage. she loves see-through, glittery material too, obviously paired on top of something. but it's glamourous. it's rich. it's sometimes a little 90s inspired, but mostly fresh.

this cleo loves pants. loose pants work, i suppose. but she likes them baggy. one of the best examples of what she likes to wear for pants would be those baggy pyramid-textued pants i designed for her once

gets custom made jewelry (braclets, earrings, etc) that spell out her name in hieroglyphics

likes shorter skirts, but secretly admires longer skirts ten times more

blue lover. any shade. try her. she will obviously mix around her makeup, nails, and hair to work around whatever blue she's feeling

loves gems. lots of gems. real ones, obviously.

doesn't like socks very much. she can literally just do the same thing socks do for feet with mummy wrap. same with stockings

[goaskangel]

bookie!

journalist!reader x business-man!hakari

cw...NSFW, slight manipulation, mention of intox, use of "mister" "sir" "doll", dumification, degradation, all the usual smut stuff LOL

word count...4.8k

a/n...this is my first fic ive posted publicly EEEK lowk nervy but i've read like 2 good hakari fics on this mf website and i js figured i might as well do it myself. my writing here IS NOT MY BEST, i plan to indulge into how i usually write. smut is a little harder for me to write so be patient AND NICE PLZ. mdni!please understand what kind of media you are consuming and be smart about it.

just the way hakari presented himself, it felt as if even if you didn’t suspect anything from him, it was obvious he was a secretive and cocky man. from how he dressed with his constant change between pimpy-fur coats and vulgar tanks with his ever-changing colored hair between purples, blacks, and blondes, it was no surprise he must’ve lied his way to the top. 

and even with this assumption, you couldn’t deny the offer of living with him and your company's team. not necessarily living with him but staying in a private luxury hotel, and sure, maybe your job here wasn’t very important as a journalist but your boss insisted on you attending. 

what kind of moron would pass on the opportunity of possibly breaking through one of japan’s wealthiest and slyest business men anyway?

something about interviews but mostly projects, maybe even a documentary went in your ear and out the other when your boss spoke to you about the expectations on this “trip.”

after being stuck on a reserved bus, you finally manage to push through and make it to a not very deserted place. matter of fact it was right in front of a busy street in the busiest city. you stretched your legs, cracked a few fingers, and headed to the entrance of the tall—what seemed to be marbled—hotel. if you could even call it that. seemed like a resort more than anything. you were told your bags full of equipment for work and clothes for the three day project would be handled by security. the front of the building were two big guards protecting any outsiders. pretty confidential for just a few days. it stays on brand with hakari’s whole attitude, a whole ass hotel in the city only allowing a few people with specific identification. 

inside it looked like everybody from every corporate office in town had been messily dragged in.  heavy steel tables were set randomly with even heavier bags and briefcases on top, open with papers and documents spilling out. 

the man himself was sitting at one of the sturdy desks, his head down.

before you noticed that he decided to go purple, left his black blazer on the shoulders of the chair he sat on, you watched as his hand shook carefully on a paper given to him by the lady standing nearby. 

his hot pink eyes dart back and forth across the page. you assume he was looking for another place to sign because he handed it right back to her after examining. hakari returns back to a binded notebook, the pen still in his fingers. he scribbles words down vigorously. part of you wonders what he’s got going on. another part wonders where your room will be. 

you observe the rest of the lobby. you glance at your boss finally coming through security, the dumb, happy guy starts a conversation with almost everyone as he came. he calls hakari over as if they’ve known each other since the dawn of time, and he follows. they greet one another and you go blank on the rest until your name is called. quickly, you turn to face the men again and walk towards them.

"if the interview goes well—which i'm sure it will—perhaps the documentary could follow up.” your boss explains, still turnt to hakari.

“mhm oh yeah man i’m sure of it, yep.” he agrees, mooning. his white button up hugging him perfectly. 

scrunched up sleeves, pen marks on his forearms. a few buttons undone from the neck. 

“this young lady right here is the foundation of the writing department.”

“oh yeah. so i’ve read.” 

he reaches a hand out, “took you a while to say hi.” 

“you seemed busy, signing shit n’ whatnot.” you smile politely and firmly shake his hand. he cheeses a toothy grin, blue and silver gems shine back at you. 

“pardon her words, man. you know how writers are—can write page upon pages yet their mind goes blank when they have a chance to speak—hah.” your boss shines his own nervous smile. 

“ya, know what they say about business men, can talk for hours and hours, spill what seems to be almost everything, and still have secrets.” he darts his eyes to yours before closing and laughing richly with the older man. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

you spend the rest of the night cozying up into your hotel room and lazily journaling down ideas, even scraping up an idea against hakari. you stretch your arms after tossing your notebook shut, you glance over at the alarm on the desk,

11:24 P.M. 

it would be a good time to grab a snack, now that everyone should be asleep. at least you hope so as you walk out in casual clothes. 

you toss the room’s card from hand to hand and pass quiet rooms until turning left to the snack bar. you were told earlier that food would be available for the company whenever, so you figured it must be open now too, with all the staff asleep or at their posts. 

there was an incredible aroma of columbian brew with a dash of vanilla dancing with something hot, something fresh out of the oven. you’re greeted with his strong back. shaped tightly, almost too tight, was a simple white tank. on caramel skin, his wide shoulders flexed as he took a small spoon into his mug, tossing sugar packets and singles of liquid creamers into a trash bin. but it doesn’t really phase you. what were the chances of somebody being here? let alone hakari. it’s ironic and mostly awkward. 

you could’ve left but the pastry before you was calling your name. how awkward could it really be?

you walk towards the counter he was just at, he who was walking back to a two-chaired table. 

“it’s almost midnight.” he speaks and you freeze as if you’ve been caught. obviously, you haven’t, so you quickly grabbed a floral napkin and the pastry. 

“writers stay up late, i know that. but they’re usually alone.”

“well how was i supposed to know somebody else was gonna be up? it is almost midnight.”

“you’re the one writing stories about me and talking shit, i’d assume you’d know everything about me.” he grins as he pulls a chair out, sitting in it and slowly stirring his coffee. steam swirls up from the cup. “take a seat.” 

you walk to him and pull the other chair out, sitting quietly. you break apart the food in your hands and eat it piece by piece, examining the table subtly. 

he’d been sitting there for a while; papers closed a binder with a few pens spilt around. an empty chip bag, a few crumbs near the bottom of the coffee cup, his hands warming up around it. 

his hands were nice.

you swallow casually and look back at him. “you read my stuff? which one of your little employees do you have search for works written about you, huh?” 

“i find ‘em myself, ‘nd you're lucky i don’t report them. can’t have nasty stuff circulating around me, whether if it’s true or not.” 

“—or should i call them workers instead?” you ignore him. 

“your writing is admirable.” 

something about that made you lose track of what you were saying. 

you lay back in your chair and mumble an okay. 

you watch as he takes a sip of his sugared coffee, the steam cupping his face gently and flowing up. 

“so when do you sleep?” 

“i’ll go in a couple,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “schedule’s got all fucked ever since i got here. my manager—and don’t tell her i said this—doesn’t understand the concept of time, or maybe she’s fucking with me. how can i get three hours of paperwork done, meetings between each pile, ‘nd make phone calls back to back, but can’t stay up late?” 

“damn, you’ve even got your sleep schedule sorted?” 

“gotta sneak out here like some goddamn teenager. it’s no big deal, she’s knocked out at 10. jus’ gotta keep kissing her ass and thank her for taking such good care of me. she won’t suspect a thing.” 

you giggle at the irony, “might as well be your girlfriend.” 

“god, more like my mom.” you can see the outline of his tongue grazing his teeth as he grins. probably feeling the gems on his smile, you cross your legs at the view. 

funny and handsome. 

speaking of closing your thighs—you remember you have to get back to your room. 

“we’ve got just three days,” you say as you stand from your chair, “i’m sure we’ll have to work our asses off tomorrow.” hakari looks up at you.

“hmm nobody tell you wha’s happening either?” 

you shake your head and carefully bite the inside of your lip. 

“m’kay. have a good rest of your night, then.” he nods back down and sips his coffee. his tone indicated he practically knew you weren’t sleeping immediately. to enjoy the rest of your night. 

“yeah, i’ll make sure of it. goodnight.” 

as happy as you were to receive a half-vacation, half-business trip at a hotel – the benefits of not having to wake up early just to drive almost an hour to work everyday, the entire company just being outside, your hands would not suffice. you thought to yourself earlier, how great it’d be to stay in a nice, cool room and wind down from a long day. keeping dirty fantasies in your head and just when you thought the tight, small circles on your heat could master an orgasm. but the thought of him kept interrupting. 

a hand crawling up your neck and the other circling underneath your panties. closing your eyes as you concentrated on silver-haired men kissing your breasts, guys who stunk of cigarettes and coffee making out with your clit, god anybody willing to run their hands on your body. you jolt at the sudden twitch of your cunt, your back arching slightly. you groan. the man you’ve been practically stalking and have to work with is now appearing in your head while you masturbate. you switch the bedside lamp off and take off-white sheets over yourself. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

on the second day, you pass new people while walking down narrow hallways. each person looking more tired than the one before. you notice just how many people could fill up the lobby and snack bar. as enticing the syrup from breakfast smelled, you keep your distance from everybody else. carefully, you lick the inner of your lips and taste the lipgloss you applied earlier. 

now popping your lips, backing up slowly, still examining the room until you feel what seems to be a pillar or wall behind you. 

“hey… you got a light?” behind you. tall, peeping over you – was that a fur coat? hakari watches everybody else almost as intently as you were. 

you stutter before reaching into your coat’s pocket, “yeah.” he takes it and quickly lights the now-appeared-cigarette of his mouth. 

“a smoke for breakfast? that can’t be healthy.” you cross your arms as he flips the lighter in the air. 

“it wouldn’t have been, hun, we had breakfast this morning already. don't you remember?” he exhales smoke that passes your jaw, making you shudder. 

“here, sounds like you need it.” he says the last part through his teeth, pinching the end of the cig and lowering it to your mouth. you glare to your side and lean in to wrap your lips around it, inhaling. you pull away and spew smoke out much more discreetly. he takes another, blowing it out, licking his lips, “tastes like bubblegum.” 

after set-ups and mic-checks in steel stools and numerous questions, you’re sitting in front of a laid-back hakari. his legs man-spread and his hands fixing his hair every other second. a very specific rage comes back to you. the same anger that you felt staying up to post blogs about complicated, but evident-filled, theories and what you truly think is the truth about the man sitting in front of you. the feeling is nostalgic. your nerves are overfilled with different emotions – since when could a man controlling so many industries, controlling so many people and still handle an underground fight club while acting like a semi-normal person? but normal people don’t wear fur-fucking-coats on the regular, let alone keep illegal ranges where people fight like bears just to be bet on like horses. 

two cups of steaming coffee are placed in the high-wooden table between you and hakari. 

“this part of the interview will be audio-presented. the second part will be videotaped.” the host of the section stands above the recorder, the rest of the crew standing around or still finishing breakfast. “etiquette for the tape is pretty simple – ‘ms and mr’ is usually set and the rest is self-explanitory.” 

you nod kindly and look at the man, meeting his eyes, ones that perhaps never left you. 

easy, almost-boring questions are asked but it hadn’t prepared you for what was going to come. the questions slowly make less and less connection and stay focused on hakari. “ethicality is mentioned within businesses and is no exception to your work, ms l/n.” before being asked the repetitive question, the topic being how many times can we make hakari look like a god in one tape, you interrupt the host. 

“morals are nowhere to be found in such work. there’s – again – no sense.” now slouched, hakari responds, “tell me, when searching for a job that pays well, were you interested in the pay or how many hours you had to work? ‘s there something you w’na say about being able to survive or how comfortable you are?” 

“sometimes it just boggles me to think about how one person needs more than one business. is it for fun, mister?”

“is what for fun, girl?” 

“is being a con-man to violent people and making them believe knocking each other’s teeth out will help for fun?” 

the host stutters and gets shushed, “well, you’re very right. that wouldn’t be ethical at all.” he smiles very faintly. too faintly for you to lash out and not make it seem like you’re crazy. 

“untruthful about being a bookie and fight-promoter. does gachinko ring a bell?”

“any more questions? how about all my employees' salaries? wanna know my salary? how’s about ‘you busy after this?’” 

the recorder falls off the foldable table after being shaken, “for the love of god.” your boss yells and stops. scrunching his fat nose and pinching the bridge. “that was the fourth time. i just… you know what, we’ll continue tomorrow morning. kinji you’ve got a meeting we’ve, i’ve, been trying to hold off but it seems like everybody’s in the mood for a break.” he walks to the exit of the lobby, followed by some of his crew. hakari gets up, exhaling and cracking his fingers and wrists. 

“almost as good as your writing. but writers always gotta fuck up while speaking.” he picks up the recorder from the ground and tosses it to the full cups of coffee. 

“are they going to post it?” 

he shakes his head. 

“then what?” 

“might do it all again tomorrow. a little more strict, too. it’s not like it was a bad tape either. just like you know, i can’t let shit spread around about me. i would never allow it.”  

you scoff and watch him walk off, cursing under your breath.

it’s the evening when he comes back, bringing a few drunk men through the guards. you nod your head back and forth between your open laptop and the men that find their wobbly way to the lounge's couches. you tune out their slurred talk and how hakari’s joking gets belly-laughs from them. he cackles with them, clapping his hands bluntly. he sighs, tears in his eyes, as he walks past the random suitcases and desks spread-about. 

you type away at your slightly dull keys, clumsily taking your gel-pen and drabbling a note down. 

“workin’ hard, i see.” you feel a heavy hand land on your left shoulder and glance over to the other side of the desk, hakari’s ringed-fingers tapping away at the steel. 

“what’re you writing down…” he mumbles and leans over obnoxiously. you lean back in your chair, looking at him looking at your notes. 

“god, are you drunk? didn’t you just have a meeting?” 

“drunk? nah, i don’t get drunk.” 

“i can smell the whiskey from your breath.” 

“ah-ha, you knew i drank whiskey, huh. looks like even an overworked girl like you knows how to have fun, too.” he looks at you with literal joy in his pupils. face tampered with blush while smiling like a hyena. “anyway,” he stands back up, the grip on your shoulder falling to your bare-arm. “even your handwriting is nice.” 

“uh-huh…” you press your thighs together, feeling the cold metal of his jewelry on your skin. his hand so big compared to your arm. part of you hopes his long gaze is down your blouse. 

it is.

“ya look good.” he speaks through the rasp in his throat but all you hear is a mutter, he gives your arm a squeeze before patting it and walking toward the corridor of rooms. 

you let out a shaky sigh and feel yourself burn up, staring at your yellow-notepad. hakari strides to his room, the last room of the hallway, stretching his arms. he takes a gold card out and shoves it into the slot. 

he lets out a serene moan when his back hits the bed. tossing his keys, phone, and whatever junk out of his pockets onto the nightstand. his large coat following. he groans and kicks off his shoes. something still bothering him. he reaches his hands down to his belt and unravels it, throwing it down. unbuttoning and zipping to comfort the ache below his stomach.

god, how hard could a guy get from one conversation? his slit brows raise as he grins, taking his weeping cock and holding the base.

thinking about all the things you’d say, 

you’re so vulgar. not enough action recently, huh? what stress’ll do to ya…

“yeah, baby, stress.” he takes his other hand and taps the underside of his cock in his palm. closing his eyes and imagining your sweet self between his legs, those same tits in his view. your pink tongue lolling out for him. “finally shut that smart-ass mouth up… use her for something fuckin’ useful.” he groans, stroking himself. 

what makes him throb is how dumb you’d gotten when his hands were on you. how fucking sweet and quiet you went when his fingers stroked your arm, weren’t you exposing him just a couple of hours ago? what a desperate girl. he swears out as he jerks spurts of come onto his clothed shirt. “yeah, hmph god, yeah, that’s good..” he pants like a dog, eyes going heavy. 

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another day passes and you haven’t come. guilt swats your hand away everytime you try, anyway. you start to get sick of the syrup and eggs roaming the air. you sit at the same spot from last evening and observe the room.

half of your company is eating breakfast or still passed out on the couch. the others, probably asleep or dealing with tech. your boss walks towards you and places a cup of coffee down in front of you. 

“we oughta work on you, huh? hah!” he stirs wood in his own cup. 

“you’re not hungover? i’m surprised you’re up this early.” 

“gotta stay professional, ya know…i only had one shot. maybe a couple. this coffee’s really good, drink some.”

“right because drinks on the second day of a work-trip is highly professional.”

“hey, come on.” he frowns and drinks a sip of his obviously too hot roast. “where is everybody? hell, where’s kinji?” he drifts off to a new group of people near the snackbar. 

the lobby fills again with the occasional technical difficulty, yet no hakari to be found. you wish you could throw it off and be so disconnected that you didn’t even realize the star wasn’t here like some of your colleagues, but you kept your eyes on that same corridor. the loud bitch from the room on the tallest floor went through your ear and out the other. you didn’t even realize the fly that was constantly buzzing had been trying to get your attention. 

“do you know where kinji is?” she was beautiful but still his assistant, loud and fussy like a bad mom. if she didn’t know where he was, how were you supposed to know? you put on a concerned look with a little smile, “might be in his room.” you get up and begin walking to the hallway, how the hell did they not check his fucking room? you swear your eyes roll so far to the back of your head, that if you didn’t have ears to hear the bitch’s loud heels clacking, you could’ve seen her behind you. you turn to the last door on the right and knock, remembering how many men had to carry luggage upon luggage inside. 

“hello? mister, we’re waiting on you.” you knock faster than time. “hakari?” the door swings open and your hand is met with another. before you can say anything, he shushes you and looks around, pulling you into his room and says, “give me a’minute. take a seat.” he leaves. by seat he probably refers to his bed, the entire room cluttered by stuff. you sit on the edge of his bed and sigh, taking a moment to collect what just happened.  

he was shirtless. the bathroom door being open and light on explains why, he’d taken a shower. the mirror was still foggy and the towel hung on the door’s hanger. there was a faint smell of vanilla and something floral. you would’ve been pissed to be in a messy room like this but you figured it was better than being out with everybody else. 

the door opens again and a calm hakari walks in, closing the door and locking it. 

his hair is damp but you only notice how he’s clothed in a towel. one that hangs low at his hips. 

“everybody’s waiting, and you’re not even dressed yet.” 

“s’fine, y/n. i bought us some time. these people, they’ll listen to whatever i say.” he says with a smile, and you look back at him with confusion.

“but the interview…?” your mouth drops gently when his hand comes to hold your face. 

he sighs and looks up and away. your legs are shut and you swallow the sudden pool of saliva in your mouth as your eyes are fixated on his sharp, shaved jawline and how his adam’s apple flexes as he speaks. “this job’s real tough, i know it is, ‘nd you want a break. doesn’t everyone?” he looks back down at you, his eyes filled with what seems to be.. lust? you furrow your eyebrows and nod slowly. he carefully puts some hair behind your ear and leans down to whisper against your skin, “w’na be a good girl and take some of that stress away from the both of us?” he kisses a part of your jaw, “my good girl?” 

oh god. 

did you write half of your career on this greedy man just for him to be licking your ear? leading a hand to your button-up and slowly undoing the pearly clasps? 

his hand now on your bare leg, going up and up your mid-pencil skirt. you feel yourself get dizzy from the thought of him feeling your lacy panties, holding a hand on his strong shoulder, his skin slightly wet. did you wear them on purpose? you can’t think. he stands back up, his hand slithering and rubbing the back of your neck. breathing heavily, you start to undo the rest of your shirt’s buttons. “yeah, there ya go.” he encourages you until your laced bra is exposed. 

he hooks a finger on the side of your panties and tugs them off, you reach under your skirt and tug the other side. he takes both sides and peels away, “mhhm, always liked a matching set.” your skin burns at embarrassment, not from what he said but how wet the middle of your core was and how drenched the crotch of your panties were. 

“a lil’ kissin’ got you this soaked, huh? you want this? ain’t you just sweet, doll.” he throws it to the corner of the bed and hums when you nod. “s’quiet when you’re needy.” hakari pushes two fingers at your lips just when you thought you could finally say something. “open.” he demands gently and grins when you comply. they find their way to the middle of your mouth and you can’t help but suck softly. “mhm that’s good, suck ‘em good. cost about’a milli’ each, heh.” he takes them out and pushes you slowly onto your back, spreading your legs, holding one up with a burly arm. 

“fuck.” is the only thing you manage to let out when he bunches your skirt up to your waist.

“be quiet f’me now.” he spits a glob onto his two fingers and presses them to your clit. you gasp at the content. 

“so wet.” he mumbles.

circling tight, slippery rounds on your aching bud. the guilty friction you’ve been craving finally went through. a sudden warmth and pleasure take over your pelvis. heat rises to your upper body, your hands slightly shaking and your ears burning, god, what were you doing? you watch and feel his dirty mastered hand bring you shame. your entire career faltered just for your fulfillment, the guilt so heavy, it makes you moan out. 

“huuh, mister – shit, i need it.” you speak whispers breathlessly. 

“yeah? you need it, baby?” he brings his focus to your pathetic expression, pushing and curling two fingers into your cunt. you moan out and watch, feel, as his fingers pump in and out of you. his hands are skilled as they break you open little by little. “sweet girl with a needy cunt, must’ve hit the fuckin’ jackpot.” your clit throbbing as you watch him grope himself and ease his own ache through the white towel. 

“c’mon, please sir.” you tap the side of his waist with your heeled foot. 

“patience, girl.” he pulls his fingers out and pats your vulva a few times before pulling your body close to his. his hand finally, finally pulling down the towel. the thing that kept distracting you from nights of sleep now dripping pre just above your heat. he gives himself a couple of strokes, long and heavy as your body begged, driving yourself closer ‘til your ass was almost off the bed. 

“shh shh.” he rubs his wet tip against your folds as you start begging quietly, your slits sloppily kissing. he groans when your cunt flutters, pushing himself into the first tight muscle.

you writhe at the sudden burn, making you mewl ever-so quietly. 

“be a good girl f’me.” he presses a hand on your lower stomach in comfort before moving his hips forward with no intent of stopping until he’s bottomed out. you moan long whines and grind your body down to try and get more, the stretch already burning. “fuck, goddamn it.” the warmth you bring him is unmatched, all he can think about is how hot you feel.

“fuck me – wan’ more.” you clench down and get a moan out of him. his hands hold down onto your plush thighs as he rocks back and forth into you, your folds swallowing him whole everytime. your throat burns at the way you choke out whimpers, drool seeping from the sides of your plump lips. “what’s your company g’na think of you now, hmm? director of the – fuckin’ writing department– their smart girl’s gotta fuck it all up cause she couldn’t resist some cock.” his hips start to fasten and he keeps a tight grip on your legs, your pretty, fucked out, face stays red. “‘s okay, pretty. you ain’t gotta say nothing, jus’ take it like the dumb girl you are and i’ll forget about all the mean little things you said, mhm?” 

“uh-huh.” your head’s spinning from the grinding he’s now doing, the underside of his cock rubbing back and forth and back and forth on the rough spot inside of you. your thighs tremble as you feel yourself getting close. you get louder and hiccup about how good it is.

“ya – yesyesyes please awh fuck,” your hands groping at the back of your neck and the hard nipples of your breast as you arch your back off of the white sheets, “coming – oh god kin’ i’m gonna come, come. thank you thank you…!” the hard waves of heat and fuzziness take up what seems to be your entire body as you cream all over the base of his cock, hakari still pumping himself inside, riding your release out. “god, fuck, baby. stay still.” eagerly, he takes his hard-on out and jerks himself above your mound before coming straight, hot lines of cum onto your stomach. 

he pants, “you wanna talk to me about my morals?”

“jesus fuck. shut the fuck up.” 

[art-of-a-ghostie]

Random headcanons of Epithet Erased cast because yes:

Percy sometimes visits Ramsey in jail once bi-weekly (both to ask for help with a case or just to chat), if more or less it means that there's an emergency and Ramsey gets mildly worried about his friend (??).

Sylvie holds a diary he fully declares to be a journal and insists it's for keeping notes of his discoveries and studies, but he mostly uses it to write his feelings. He has a love-hate relationship with it.

Lorelai is good at drawing and has a realistic art style, but has the curse to only draw following the "art manual" (for example: she knows how to draw your typical white man with many abs and a white woman with a regular chest but would struggle to get different body types or heights and would rage-quits/uses her epithet to make them more accurate). She is also good at drawing clothes.

Ramsey has a "sona" (which is just a cartoon-like rat with a golden eye) he secretly hides in his drawings together to his signature in case his artwork gets reposted

(He also doesn't post irl pics or selfies so his fan base just assumes that the golden eye is just for aesthetics)

Spike loves body piercing but is scared of needles. Every time she gets one she calls one (sometimes two) of her friends and just so they can be there to be the emotional support and hold her hand or/and just to drag her back into the store if she backs out.

Zora actually knows about modern technology she just pretends to not know it in front of Ramsey to piss him off. She also used incorrect slang in front of him once and he got psychological damage.

She also did that with Yoomtah but she just kept doubling down and so she did and they ended up speaking like Sims. Moot immediately burst thought the door and begged them to stop

Moot (canonically a trans woman) only came out after joining Bliss Ocean. Yoomtah, as a master of Straight Ally-ing (she is canonically a straight ally) she is, welcomed her with a "And now you are double illegal in many states, I am so proud of you, girl :3"

That was the one and only situation Moot ALMOST left a snicker

Spike is the shortest of Giovanni's boys but in the sense that her and Ben are both the shortest but Ben is an inch or two taller and he is way too prideful about it

Ben VC: How's the weather down there, short stuff? :}c

Spike VC: Shut up >:/

While Indus worked at the museum got a few tips and a lot of positive reviews from the visitors. Many visitors of the museum (and the director himself) were shocked about discovering that he was a criminal and posted their shock online. This has led the many people on the internet to think about him like a gentleman thief or a criminal manipulator mastermind (and so does Sylvie)

Molly sometimes has trouble remembering her full name and switching between "All-the-DAY" and "all-the-WAY". Giovanni's boys still haven't understood which one is correct (Giovanni does but will "full name drop" her like a parent only when he will be mad at her. (Which means he will die before doing that))

Flamethrower always started to dye his hair after joining the Banzai Blasters while Spike changed colors often even before joining them. She is only keeping the blue colors because Giovanni told her she looks good but will die before admitting it and just uses excuses like "I am keeping the hair dye when you normies decide to try some colors too ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ"

This led to having funny photos that both Flametrowher and Spike are slightly ashamed of and will both get flustered if shown in public as they think that they look best in the present

[nelcorecreations]

⭐️Seduce me the otome: Hold Me AU Redesigns!⭐️

First post here on tumblr with more thoughts then just “huhuhu look i art pretty?” Hoping to develop this AU for this old ass fandom I’ve been apart of for like AGES. This AU is called Hold Me Like I Matter. And follows the Twin sisters Rika and Mika. Rika is definitely more of the main character just for a different perspective and personality. But Mika is still here! Just more of a supporting character for the time being, but I do plan to write a fic dedicated to her as well. Hold me Like I Matter is focused on Rika though. So mostly you’ll see me talking about her. Another thing this is a full AU facts, lore and backstories ARE different if a little similar. But fundamentally this is a different world. Thus the visual novel aspect of the game is not present and is written as if it is a novel. So there are no multiple love interests only one. The main love interest for this story? Matthew!

Now onto the Boys and there redesigns! For the most part I’m happy with all of these so you won’t see many details change. But let’s talk about each redesign even if it’s only a little bit and why I choose the things I did. And as a general note! I added red/pink in there eyes and gave them all various levels of freckles to show they are related despite being half siblings. There dad has red eyes and freckles.

Erik

Pretty simple, just made him more fashionable and less like a James look alike. At least in his clothes. Gave him an undercut cuz I feel it just fits him somehow. I myself am not the best clothes designer so his clothes are simple. But I feel for casual comfort it still works. And still shows off his more dramatic side if more subdued.

James

Gave him a sweater instead, but still kept his book/proper aesthetic.

Sam

So Sams design is more close to his OG, just gave him cargo pants and got rid of his shirt. There is a lore reason for this! Because he is more brute demon he runs automatically hotter. The more angry brute demons are or the more rage they have festering the hotter there bodies get. Which can cause them ti set things on fire when they touch something or melt through walls. This heat is controllable but typically most brutes like to have little to no clothing since usually there skin is already rock hard. Sam is fine literally no matter what the weather is. He can go shirtless in the snow and it will be an average temp to him. So he needs clothes a lot less then his brothers due. Tho they all still have this same trait. The angrier they are the hotter they get.

Mathew

He hates shoes? No he wares flip flops or slides so he can take them off easier but still wares them when he goes out and about. Pretty much the same otherwise gave him black skeleton sweats instead of jeans. And some buttons on his hoodie to represent his brothers.

Damien

More or less the same, gave him a longer coat. Kept the white pants, his eyes are brown rather than purple-blue. And he has naturally black hair! A trait that I stole from @new-tella-us ‘s Damien design! He dyes his hair the same color as Erik’s to look more like his brother. For several traumatic reasons that I feel anyone reading this may understand.

Rika & Mika

They are Twins! But as they got older Rika got taller while Mika stayed more or less the same height she was in high school. Rika looks more tried for manny MANNY reasons. And tends to not ware makeup. Mika dose so she can easily hide any eyebags better then her sister. Rika keeps her hair long and simply shampooed and brushed while Mika curls her hair slightly. It’s still obvious they are twins. They sound the same just with different tones. And they have the same face and eye shape, just due to Rika tiredness her eyes are more half lidded looking.

And that’s everyone! I hope to share them more and there story! Feel free to ask me any questions you may have. ✨Ask Box is open✨

[mintmatcha]

a meet cute

cw: cisfem reader, reader is part gnome, dungeon meshi universe, it's about an insane side character, sorry

A gentle breeze cuts across the shop, just over the front counter. You have to lean into it to get any sort of relief from this summer's heat. Your shop door's bell chimes as a customer walks in. It's unusual that anyone is out this time of day in this type of heat, let someone fully robed, scarf and hat included. He's dressed in dark, rich colors, the types of dye that drip with indigo and money, a contrast to the reddish tuft of hair of his head.

He'd be cute, you think, if he wasn't a gnome.

It's not that you don't like gnomes-- you are one, mostly-- but gnomes around your age are boring. The men nod along to anything you say, try to impress you with pleasantries and tidbits, all with that glint in their eye, they've found their next wife. They are dictated by societal niceities and traditions, topped off with a strange sense of superiority, all while they still eye you like a piece of meat-

But this gnome isn't looking at you like that. No, he's marveling at your wears.

The stranger tilts the glass in the sunlight and rainbows refract across the floor, dancing in looping, wonderful patterns long after his movement has stopped. Figures of dancers twirling around each other, bowing and dipping with ease, disappate into the air. His hands are actually a bit small for a gnome, thin fingers, uncalloused and delicate with the way he inspects the magic.

"The runes on this are subtle," he notes, mostly to himself. "Gnome magic on elven crystal."

"You have good taste." You lean more forward on to the oak surface and he jumps a bit, as if he hadn't noticed you were even there. "And a keen eye."

The man melts into a polite smile. His eyes are downturned and his cheeks are round, tickled pink from the sun. He approaches you, a prickle of chill following suit. There must be some elemental magic sown into his clothing or something.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you," you say. "It's my work."

"You have a talented hand for magic, then."

"And you have a talented eye."

His nose wiggles in that delightfully gnomish way that only old men do. "No talent, all practice."

You give him your name, he gives you his. Holm. Classic. Boring. Standard.

"Is this a gift for your wife?"

"Oh, I'm not--" He waves that thought away with disinterest-- which happens to peak yours. "My party mate is getting married."

"An elf?"

"Dwarf, actually." He twirls to glass again and the waltz of light resumes. "To be honest, we aren't very close. I don't really know what she likes, I just think she deserves something nice."

"The effect won't be as brilliant for her, because dwarfs don't tend to have a very good mana flow, but it'll still be pretty. A couple glasses for her and her beau-" You wipe away a bead of sweat that's begun to roll down the side of your neck. "And maybe a bottle of chilled wine. I think that's a very good present for anyone."

He nods, button nose crinkled with delight as he places the glasswork on the table before you. "I'll get a sex then."

A beat passes. You can't help the wild smile that sneaks out. "What was that?"

"Hm?" He hasn't moved, frozen in place, still holding the glass. His expression doesn't change, but you swear there's a touch of pink creeping over his ears.

"You said a sex."

"No, I said a /set./"

"No, you didn't." You cock your head to the side in the way that makes your neck look long and your smile charming. "Are you thinking about sex, Mr Holm?"

He swallows and you think maybe you've gone too far. Your brand of needling is more of a half foot type of humor, which isn't universally appreciated, to say the least.

"I'm- I don't--" Holm surprises you by laughing at him self. "I don't do that."

Interesting. A gnome with a sense of humor. You didn't know those existed. You lean back, trying to bite back your smile as you speak. "What? Think about sex?"

"Or anything else to do with that word."

You inspect him a bit closer. The colors, the hat, the symbol burnt into his pouch-- they're religious symbols. He's a spirit worshipper, one of the religions in the south. You aren't sure of all of the intricacies, but you know the most devout are completely celibate.

Holm shrugs rather casually. "Close enough."

"Oh, you're one of those monk-things, aren't you?" For some reason, you're a bit disappointed. Of course the man you have a nice rapport with is one that won't fuck you.

Not that you want to fuck him.

"So, you must think about sex a lot." You call as you walk to your backroom. There's a couple of different versions of the glasses, so it takes you a moment to find another set of dancers. Really, this guy has nice taste; this is your favorite piece. "Since you can't have any."

"Probably less than you do-" he calls back. "Since you heard is when I clearly said set."

Despite yourself, you laugh. It's not particularly funny, but there's butterflies in your chest and a tremble in your hands. You wrap the glasses in pieces of cloth and ribbon-- purple, to match his scarf-- before bringing them back up. The stranger is still watching you with that look on his face, the crinkle in his eye-

"It's on the house," You slide the gift wrapped presents over to him.

"I couldn't possibly."

"Just come back again some time. Or buy me a beer if you see me at the bar."

You both know that isn't a fair trade. Crystal is expensive, magic work even more so; you could charge him a couple hundred gold if you wanted, but... conversation is sometimes more valuable than money.

"I don't drink." He rubs the back of his neck, almost sheepish. "I eat, though."

The flutter in your chest gets worse. "Food then."

He nods. Taking the gift, he picks it up and starts towards the door, a hum on his voice and a deeper smile creeping up on his face. When he gets to the door, he puts up an arm to open it, then pauses.

He turns back around.

"I want to pay." The strange says, firmly. "I'll still buy you food, but I want to pay for these."

He pulls a bag of coins from his belt and presses them into your hand. It's heavy with gold. He doesn't pull away until you meet his dark, stern eyes and close your hand around the bag.

"I don't want to lead you on," he says, softly. "I find you very..."

He says more with silence than his words.

"Don't worry," you say, even though a worry does creep up your spine. "I'm not so desperate that I'll fall in love with a priest."

"Not a priest, but thank you." His cheeks puff with smile and you immediately know that you may have lied.

[adobe-outdesign]

thoughts on sketch paint brush?

Whoever came up with the idea of sketch should have gotten a raise for making the easiest colour on the entire site. No but seriously, I kid—mostly because I'm like 99% most sketch pets aren't actually the real original sketches, but also because I think sketch is neat. It's not a very popular colour, probably because it's very niche, but it's a fun quirky idea and very distinct from other colours for obvious reasons.

Sketch pets are kept consistent across the board, with blue sketch lines on a white base. There's not much variation or uniqueness to the colour, which is a drawback, but at least the rendering of the pets kind of has natural variation due to different artists working on them.

The effects of customization on sketch are... weird. In most cases, rather than trying to make the converted version look like the original art, they just kind of... did a different sketch design all together (note how the converted Poogle above has different line placement and filled-in eyes). These changes aren't always bad, but it is weird how little effort was put in to make the artwork match.

Another weird thing about conversion is the addition of shading. I sort of get why—pets without shading would look weird wearing clothing with shading, and in-universe it's not like sketch pets are flat—but I also feel like it kind of ruins the novelty of the color when the pet in question doesn't actually look that much like an unfinished sketch, you know?

Favorite Species:

Cybunny: The sketch Cybunny wouldn't be that great in theory (the sketch lines don't actually construct much of anything), except for one big thing: for whatever reason, it's one of only two sketch pets that did NOT get shading during conversion (the Mynci being the other, though it does have a rendering error with the hairs on top). Like I said, I think sketch as a color works better when flat, so this kind of trumps most other converted sketch pets by default.

Kau: What I like about the Kau is the addition of scribbly filled-in markings. A lot of sketch pets leave the markings as only lines, but filling them in is more accurate to the sketching process and adds a nice bit of contrast to the otherwise very even design. It also just adds a sense of addition roughness to the design that I think a lot of other pets lack.

Skeith: Out of all the sketch pets, the Skeith is definitely the best in terms of actually looking like a sketch—the incredibly lose, multiple-stroke linework, the construction lines and underlying shapes, and even the shape of the arm being drawn over the body are all very realistic. The whole thing also has nice dark linework and a good sense of energy to it that I like.

Least Favorite Colour:

Quiggle: There are, for some reason, a lot of sketch pets with rendering errors that I could've listed here (Kiko, Moehog, Mynci, etc.), but seeing as those are errors I can let them pass. What I can't let pass is the sketch Quiggle, which has shading on its eyes and literally no where else. Add shading or don't, I don't care, but keep it consistent. I also think the actual sketch is lacking; there's no real construction and the highlights and shading on the model are outlined like an animation cell, which is strange.

EDIT: Apparently there's some kind of semi-transparency going on, because the body has shading but only when on a black background? Really bizarre. If you're looking at this on dark mode, just know it looks like this on white:

[jeding-png]

Enjoy chapter 153 cuz next week there is a break—

Bon appetit, dear readers~

Today's chapter is just as delicious as the previous two, but this time, SUOL-nim has blessed us with a break from crying.

Let's start with Derrick and Ivonne's conversation!

In the novel, this conversation should have happened earlier, that is, we observe a similar situation as in chapters 86 and 87 (if I'm not mistaken, the conversation between Penelope and Reynold was also shown there at a different time).

Little Eckhart siblings and Ivonne holding Derrick's hand... it's so cute, especially in such colors—

In the preview for the chapter, it was written that each brother spends time with his sister. That is, Derrick spends time with Ivonne, who has finally returned, and Reynold spends time with Penelope (in the chapter, there are quite funny frames with them).

I'm actually a bit moved by the Derrick and Ivonne moment, but especially the frame with the three Eckhart siblings. Because you can see how Derrick blames himself for everything that happened. It can be seen that he has not accepted the loss of his younger sister for years, unlike the Duke and Reynold.

Yes, Derrick even has tea with her on the day of Penelope's coming-of-age ceremony—

But what is interesting is that the entire chapter did not show us Ivonne's emotions and gaze. Seriously. Therefore, it seems as if the stories where the girl from the stories about the disappearance of the real daughter are different from the one who actually returned.

Congratulations to Ivonne for finally being able to wash her hair outside of the sea and change her clothes!

But back to the coming of age ceremony!!

Did you want to see Penelope in a tiara? It's time! Look how beautiful she is!!

I like the fact that Winter's necklace was indeed, as written in the novel, slightly superfluous for Penelope's image. Mostly, it seems so because of its gray color, in contrast to the pastel blue colors of other decorations.

Magic works in this world, so the petals that resemble the same Elenvik flowers don't just fall out of nowhere, lol.

In the novel, it was said that Reynold even raised their hands even higher so that all the guests could see and have no doubt that the brother and sister had a good relationship, which also prompted an increase in Penelope's reputation.

I can't put into words how impressed I am with the costumes of the characters. Indeed. They look just fantastic. I especially liked Reynold's costume. The peculiarity is that SUOL-nim always draws outfits that have exactly the same style. That is, a certain element of clothing that we can see and immediately recognize for which character it is.

Also, I'm glad to see the same Reynold's ring that was in the first chapters of the manhwa again, haha. No wonder it is on the middle finger—

But nevertheless, in my opinion, this is an important moment of the chapter!

A conversation between Reynold and Penelope mentions the moment they last met, when Reynold was brainwashed.

Somehow you see what a mouth is for and that it can be used for talking and not just for kissing. Isn't that right, dear Callisto and Penelope?

You see images that were real and from the point of view of a brainwashed Reynold. He didn't act as if he deliberately wanted to reprimand Penelope, but on the contrary, to stop her.

Penelope sees Reynold and realizes that he is at least now brainwashed.

And now the moment I've been waiting for for a very long time!..

YES, THESE ARE THE SAME RABBITS THAT REYNOLD GAVE PENELOPE!

In the next chapter, there will be a rather interesting conversation about how Reynold tried to make a rabbit the color of Penelope's eyes. It's really cute moments between them.

But look at the similarities and differences between Derrick's and Reynold's gifts.

they both presented living beings;

both have similarities with Penelope's appearance colors: Derrick gave a bird the color of her hair, and Reynold tried to create a rabbit with the color of his sister's eyes;

different subtext and symbolism of gifts;

the bird has no one to communicate with, it is alone in the cage, and there are many rabbits, and they are quite fragile, but when they hatch, they are unlikely to live in a cage.

In this chapter, I smiled, while Penelope hardly did, if not at all. The chapter is over on the rabbits... so anyone who wanted to see Callisto, he will be in two weeks :'D

[official-darkforest]

i am SOOO unbelievably thrilled by your anthro au omg. do you have fashion ideas for the characters? like their favorite outfits, fabrics, etc? imo one of the best parts of anthro characters is deciding how they'd express themselves through their clothing :]

I HAVE A FEW ALREADY!!!! i dont have many specifics because theres so many characters ahd i havent drawn them all yet LOL but i'll share the ones i do have at least SOMETHING for

im also trying to keep these reasonable for the time period and location, as in my au the clan cats are mostly rural and in small towns set (mostly) before the 2000s so most may dress more modest and conservative (especially if theyre older and very religious)

squirrelflight - the best i can describe her sense of fashion is that it ranged from tomboy as a younger girl and is currently closer to a working class butch. im not sure if masc would be a more appropriate term since i dont hc her as a lesbian (shes bi) but she dresses "like a man" and owns a lot of jeans, slacks, and button-up shirts of all kinds of fabrics and patterns. she also enjoys bright colors as well, but as she got older her fashuon sense got a little more sensible and less "loud" like it was in the 60s and 70s. she also has glasses like her daddy once shes like 35 or so. she and firestar dressed very similarly, and a lot of her shirts and neckties are things she stole from his closet

feathertail - very feminine. hippie adjacent, lots of loose and flowing garments and jingly pieces. breatheable clothes and open toed shoes. her favorite swimsuit had some little frilly bits on it i think. often combines neutral earthy tones with blues and whites

crowfeather - lots of handmedowns from his father. clothes you can do farmwork in like jeans, overalls, hardy flannel/denim shirts and boots. never grew out of this and still dresses this way and he likes it

jayfeather - he looks like a modernized (as far as the 80s goes) version of his father - same hairstyle snd way of dress. he isnt too formal but does have some more preppiness to his clothing style (polo shirts and sweaters). he avoids full button downs since buttoning them himself jjust gets frustrating since he cant match them up every time. new wave band shirts. he also wears orange tinted glasses to protect his eyes (in this au i wrote that hes able to perceive shadows and light pretty okay, but not much else beyond that) And Kinda As A Fashion Statement cuz it goes well with his facial structure and hairstyle i think

lionblaze - hes like if the stereotypical jock and stereotypical 80s rock+metal enthusiast had a baby. muscle tees and bandanas, ripped jeans, those absurdly short shorts, crop tops, etc. he's a drummer i think if that matters LOL

ivypool - punk, also sorta like joan jett to an extent. very homemade, tho sometimes she gets lazy and doesnt really commit to the outfits all the way (but definitely has the mindset, dint get me wrong). one of those girls with a chest small enough to go braless 99% of the time; wears a lot of tank tops and sleeveless shirts LOL

bone/brick/scourge - just google "the outsiders movie" or "greaser" and you'll get the idea. tho i imagine these three in particular also have some kind of bare minimum formalwear scraped together from their escapades. theyre kinda like the jetts/sharks from west side story if that helps at all

daisy - she combines flowing, pretty dresses with a sunhat and work boots. she also teaches horseback riding and owns a few (its a business she runs w smokey and floss. i think its be funny if they were polyam ITS MY AU I CAN CHANGE WHAT I WANT) and she has horseback-appropriate clothing as well

poppyfrost - THEE preppy girl of the 80s. big hair, perm and all. dresses with pastel colors. her sisters cinderheart and honeyfern are pretty similar, tho i imagine honeyfern is a little more sporty and cinderheart takes inspiration from madonna once shes trying to court lionblaze

hazeltail - long haired country girl butch. enough said

spottedleaf snd cinderpelt are nuns lol