#and they said it was for ‘being a cutie mutual’

[rosicheeks]

Opened my phone to see a mutual sent me a tip randomly 🥺🥰🫶

[ughbrie]

anchored to you | rafayel

⤜ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ- You rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he mused, his voice lilting, coaxing—so effortlessly familiar. “You wound me, Miss Bodyguard. Here I was, trying to paint a masterpiece, thinking of you after an agonizing week apart, only to check my notifications and find you, in the dead of night no less, liking another man’s post. Truly, a betrayal of the highest order.”

“Thomas is your agent.”

“Doesn’t change the facts.”

You sighed again, but this time, it was laced with amusement. “You know what? I’m coming over.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, sharper now— “What?”

(Or... at 3:30 AM, Rafayel calls about you liking Thomas’ post. You know him far too well to believe that’s all it is. So you go to him, finding him amidst half-finished paintings and restless emotions, teetering between wanting space and needing you too much.)

⤜ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ- rafayel x female reader

⤜ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ- smut & fluff

⤜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ- 10.5k words

⤜ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ (or tags)- nsfw, mdni, no use of y/n, use of pet names (cutie & miss bodyguard), dom!rafayel, jealous!rafayel, themes of codependency and insecure feelings, references to rafayel's limited five star memory (intertidal zone) and bond story (nightly stroll), angst (slight-ish), possessive behavior, making out, clit play, mutual masturbation, cum marking, overstimulation, penetration (p in v), dirty talk, unprotected sex, marking (biting), creampie, mentions of ownership, and aftercare.

⤜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ- I've always wanted to write about that one time in the game when Rafayel called MC (us) early in the morning just because she (we) liked one of Thomas’ posts—but, of course, with a little more plot. Hope you enjoy!

The quiet hum of the city at 3:30 AM was a stark contrast to the sharp vibration of your phone on the nightstand. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, your screen casting a cool glow over your hands as you stared at the caller ID. 

Rafayel.

Bringing the phone to your ear, you barely got a word out before Rafayel’s voice came through, low and unmistakably petulant.

“At 3:30 AM, four hours after you said goodnight to me, you liked Thomas’ post. Instead of, like, sending me a message.”

There was a slight pause, just long enough for you to picture the way he must look right now—sprawled out somewhere, his dusky purple hair a tousled mess, one hand probably still holding his paintbrush, the other curled around his phone. His voice was smooth, casual even, but you caught the edge beneath it, the restless undercurrent of something deeper.

“Rafayel—” you sighed, rubbing at your temple, but he cut in before you could finish.

You had only just liked a post. A simple tap of your finger on Thomas’ latest Moment, barely even thinking about it. But somehow, that was enough.

“Is this what you do when you can’t sleep, cutie? Scroll through posts and ignore me?” His words were lighthearted, teasing, but that wasn’t all there was to it.

You knew him well enough by now—there was a reason he called, and it wasn’t just to complain about a liked post. It was the same reason he always asked you to update him, the same reason his messages came at odd hours, checking in without outright saying he needed to. He wouldn’t ask for reassurance, not directly. Instead, he’d do this—wrap himself in playful irritation, hide behind his usual theatrics, and hope you’d read between the lines.

And you did. 

But it had been a week since you last saw him—because he asked you not to visit, claiming you were too distracting. “Cutie, if you’re here, how am I supposed to suffer properly for my art?” he’d said, all dramatic sighs and faux despair. “What if I forget to be miserable and start painting you instead?”

You had laughed, indulged him, and then you had listened. Given him the space he asked for. But now, with his name flashing across your screen at 3:30 AM, his silence stretching between you like a thread pulled too thin, you wondered if that had been the right choice.

Shaking your head, you drew in a slow breath and let a small smile tug at your lips, even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

“I was trying to paint,” Rafayel admitted, his voice carrying the faintest hint of exasperation. “But then my phone buzzed, and—what do you know? Turns out I am capable of being abandoned and creatively drained at the same time. Tragic, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he mused, his voice lilting, coaxing—so effortlessly familiar. “You wound me, Miss Bodyguard. Here I was, trying to paint a masterpiece, thinking of you after an agonizing week apart, only to check my notifications and find you, in the dead of night no less, liking another man’s post. Truly, a betrayal of the highest order.”

“Thomas is your agent.”

“Doesn’t change the facts.”

You sighed again, but this time, it was laced with amusement. “You know what? I’m coming over.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, sharper now— “What?”

“You’re still in your studio, aren’t you?”

“That’s not the point. It’s late.”

“Exactly. And now you’ve got me wide awake.” You sat up, already reaching for your sweater. “Besides, if you’re going to whine about being abandoned, I might as well do something about it.”

“Cutie.” His tone was suddenly more serious. “It’s dangerous.”

“I’m a Hunter, Rafayel. I deal with Wanderers. I can handle myself.”

“That’s not—” He exhaled, as if weighing whether to argue, but he must’ve known it wouldn’t change anything. 

“Cutie, you’re being reckless,” Rafayel muttered, exasperation slipping into his voice.

“And you’re being difficult,” you shot back. “I’d much rather talk to you in person.”

He let out a sharp breath, like he was running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get angry.”

You smirked, already slipping on your jacket. “Try not to get too angry when I’m there, then.”

A pause. Then, quieter— “You’re impossible.”

But he didn’t tell you not to come.

You pulled a sweater over your head, the soft fabric settling over your shoulders as you slung a small bag across your body. Extra clothes—because you knew this wouldn’t be a short visit. Because you knew, deep down, that appeasing him would take time.

As you grabbed your phone and house keys, it vibrated once. Then again. And again.

Rafayel.

You ignored it for now, slipping out of your apartment and making your way down the quiet hallway. The city outside was still alive, neon lights flickering in puddles from the earlier rain. You stepped through the building’s gate, raising a hand to hail a cab.

Only when you were safely in the backseat, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence, did you finally check your phone.

The next message was just a long, broken string of typed-out ellipses.

Rafayel: dun come

Rafayel: ill get mad

Rafayel: cutie cutie listen to me i mean it

Rafayel: ur so stubborn its insane who raised u like this

Rafayel: if u show up i swear to god ill

You could picture him—pacing in his studio, running a hand through his hair, chewing on his bottom lip as he typed and deleted messages, trying so hard to pretend he didn’t want you there.

Rafayel: fine but im not opening the door

Rafayel: i mean it

Rafayel: its locked

Rafayel: double locked

Rafayel: barricading it rn

You typed back.

Rafayel: go to sleep like a normal person

Rafayel: cutie go home dont test me

Rafayel: actually u know what im turning my phone off

Rafayel: fr

Rafayel: im pressing the button

Rafayel: last chance to stop being reckless

Rafayel: …

Rafayel: wait what r u doing why r u not answering

Rafayel: hello???

Rafayel: ur not actually coming right

Rafayel: right

Rafayel: CUTIE

Try not to trip over all that furniture when you let me in.

The little “typing…” bubble popped up immediately. Then disappeared. Then popped up again.

You smiled.

Rafayel: ????????

Rafayel: EXCUSE ME

Rafayel: who said ur getting in

Rafayel: who said im letting u in

Rafayel: who said ur not gonna get stuck outside FOREVER

A few minutes passed, you were near his studio and once the cab turned onto his street, there he was.

Rafayel stood outside the gate of his studio, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp silhouette carved against the dim glow of the streetlights. His tousled hair, usually a careful kind of mess, was more unkempt tonight—like he’d run his hands through it too many times while pacing. Even from a distance, you could see the way his jaw tensed, the slight furrow of his brows. He looked intimidating. Unapproachable. Like someone who hadn’t just been blowing up your phone with ridiculous messages.

And yet.

Here he was. Outside. Waiting for you.

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the gate, the tires rolling over the uneven pavement with a soft crunch. Before you could even reach for the door handle, Rafayel was already there.

His fingers curled around the handle of the passenger seat, yanking it with a sharp pull—only for it to stay locked. A fleeting scowl crossed his face, irritation flickering in his eyes—like a storm brewing in a sky streaked with rose-colored clouds as he rapped his knuckles against the window, then motioned for the driver to unlock it.

The driver hesitated.

You could see it in the way his grip tightened on the wheel, his gaze shifting to you in the rearview mirror, uncertain. Concerned. And maybe, if you weren’t you—if you didn’t know Rafayel, if you hadn’t memorized the way he carried himself like an unspoken warning, all sharp edges and simmering intensity—you might have felt that hesitation, too.

But you only sighed, already reaching for your bag. “It’s fine,” you reassured the driver, voice steady. “I know him.”

It was only after you placed the bills into his hand that the lock clicked open.

The moment you pushed the door open, you barely had time to step out before Rafayel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His entire demeanor shifted like a switch had been flipped—gone was the intimidating figure who had been standing outside, waiting with crossed arms and a brooding scowl. Instead, the Rafayel in front of you was warm, playful, the same one who had sent you all those ridiculous messages. His hold on you was firm, pressing you flush against him, his chin resting atop your head like he had been waiting for this the entire time.

“You’re so stubborn,” he muttered, his voice laced with something between exasperation and relief.

You huffed a laugh against his chest. “I thought I was staying outside forever since you barricaded the door?”

Rafayel stilled for a fraction of a second before exhaling sharply, his grip on you tightening just the slightest bit. “Yeah, well,” he drawled, his tone slipping back into something teasing, “I figured you’d just break in anyway.”

You sigh into his arms before he’s leading you towards the entrance of his studio.

Inside, the studio was dimly lit, the scent of paint and turpentine clinging to the air. You had barely stepped in before Rafayel was already leading you deeper into the space, steering you toward the large canvas propped up on an easel. He didn’t give you a chance to bring up the real reason you had come—not his cryptic messages, not the weight in his voice, not the way he had been waiting for you outside despite claiming he wouldn’t let you in.

No, instead, he gestured at the painting, his voice smooth, light, deliberately avoiding whatever had been simmering beneath the surface. “What do you think?”

Your gaze drifted over the painting, but before you could answer, something else caught your eye—the mess surrounding it. Crumpled papers littered the floor, discarded sketches with deep, frustrated lines slashing across them. Streaks of paint smeared over the nearby desk, some dried, some still tacky, as if he had gone through so many iterations, chasing something he couldn’t quite reach.

It wasn’t hard to understand why.

The painting in front of you was unmistakably his—a swirl of haunting beauty, a dreamscape teetering on the edge of something sorrowful. And in the center, hidden within layers of colors that bled into one another, were streaks of red coral. Not just any red coral. The same shade, the same intricate, fractured formations that you had seen in all his works.

Rafayel’s work had always been laced with something more than artistry. It was a requiem, a quiet, painstaking tribute to a world long buried beneath the sand. His people. His home. The Lemurians, slaughtered and scattered, their blood mixing with the ocean until all that remained were these paintings, these desperate fragments of a civilization that humanity had tried to erase.

And yet, standing here, seeing the evidence of his struggle—all those discarded attempts, the restless, feverish way he had chased this image—you knew this one was different.

This wasn’t just another piece to be sold to the highest bidder, another silent form of vengeance wrapped in beauty.

This painting—this one meant something to him.

You exhaled softly, still taking it in. “It’s beautiful.”

The words left you before you even had time to second-guess them. And they weren’t just words—you meant it. This painting was raw in a way that went beyond his usual work, and knowing what he had gone through to reach this version of it only made it more striking.

But as soon as you said it, you felt his gaze on you. Heavy. Unwavering.

You turned to him, and your breath caught at the sight.

His eyes—those pools of blue and pink—were darkened, pupils blown wide, swallowing up the usual sharpness of his gaze. There was a strange kind of intensity there, something unspoken, something restless. Like he was waiting. Like he was memorizing the way you looked as you said those words.

You’d seen him like this before, but it never failed to leave a lingering warmth in your chest, a quiet awareness curling at the edges of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself against the weight of his stare. “So… about that phone call.”

Rafayel blinked once, slow and deliberate, before tilting his head, watching you beneath thick lashes. The studio light caught the pink in his irises, making them gleam like crushed petals under glass. For a moment, he didn’t react, didn’t move, and then—like a tide pulling back—his expression changed.

His lips curled into something languid, lazy. A smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, tousling the dusky purple strands even further. “Tch. Here we go.”

You ignored his theatrics, crossing your arms as you leaned against the closest surface. The room still smelled like oil paint and damp canvas. “You sounded—” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “Like you needed me.”

His fingers twitched at his sides.

For just a second, you saw it—the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes flickered, something raw flashing across his face. But then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. His shoulders rolled back, his stance shifting into something looser, deliberately careless. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, cutie. All I remember is telling you not to come and you showing up anyway.”

You arched a brow, tilting your chin. “Oh? So you didn’t mean it when you said you’d get mad?”

He scoffed, casting his gaze aside, suddenly engrossed in the streaks of dried paint staining his fingers. “I was gonna get mad.”

You stepped closer—close enough to catch the faint flush creeping up his ears, close enough to see the way his jaw tensed, just barely. “Then why were you waiting outside for me?”

Silence.

A long, stretching silence.

His tongue swiped over his lips—slow, deliberate, stalling. Then, finally, his eyes lifted to meet yours. Something swam beneath the blue and pink, something unreadable, something fragile.

He exhaled—a breath caught between a sigh and surrender.

“Because you were coming.”

Then, as if realizing the weight of his own admission, he turned away, raking a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “So you came all this way just to nag me? So unromantic, cutie.” His voice was all drawl, all lazy amusement, but beneath it, beneath the teasing, there was something else—something raw, something he didn’t want you to see.

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “You were the one who called me first.”

“And you were the one who liked some other guy’s post at 3:30 AM.” He shot back without missing a beat, eyes flickering toward you, sharp even in his supposed nonchalance.

You rolled your eyes. “Thomas is not ‘some other guy.’”

“Don’t care.” Rafayel flopped down onto the couch with dramatic flair, draping himself over the cushions like an exhausted cat, arm thrown over his forehead. “What’s done is done. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

You sighed, gaze drifting past him to the painting still propped on its easel. In the dim studio light, it looked almost alive—the deep reds and ink-dark blues swirling like something dredged up from the ocean’s depths. The scattered, crumpled drafts around it told you everything you needed to know.

“Rafayel.” Your voice was quieter this time, careful.

He didn’t look at you, but his fingers twitched against the couch cushion.

“You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” you continued. “I know why you called me. I know why you’re like this.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted. Then, finally, he let out a slow exhale, tilting his head back against the couch, eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah? And what am I like, cutie?” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear the thread of something else beneath it—something taut, something fraying at the edges. A quiet challenge.

Your gaze didn’t waver. “You’re scared.”

That got him.

His lips parted slightly, breath catching—just for a second—before he covered it up with a slow, lopsided smirk. “Scared? Of what? You?”

“Of me leaving.”

His smirk lingered, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Rafayel didn’t answer right away. His fingers curled into the fabric of the couch, grip tightening for the briefest moment before he forced them to relax. The smirk on his lips wavered—just a fraction—but enough for you to catch it.

Then, with a scoff, he turned his head away, staring somewhere past you, toward the half-finished painting standing in the dim light. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he muttered.

You took a step closer, voice softer now. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

His jaw tightened, his throat bobbing in a swallow. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you could see it—woven into the way his body tensed, the way his hands refused to stay still, fingers tapping restlessly against the couch. You knew him. You knew how he was when he got like this. When he tried to pretend things didn’t bother him, when he played the fool because it was easier than admitting the weight pressing against his ribs.

You sat down beside him, close but not quite touching. “Rafayel.”

Nothing.

You let out a slow breath. “I’m here. You don’t have to act like I’m not.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then, suddenly, he let his body slump sideways, his head dropping against your shoulder in a heavy, boneless motion. His hair tickled your cheek, and his warmth seeped through the fabric of your sweater.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered. His voice was low, muffled against you.

“Don’t like what?”

“You being far.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. Slowly, carefully, you reached up, brushing your fingers through his hair. He didn’t stop you. If anything, he melted further, like a thread pulled loose.

“I’m not far,” you murmured. “I’m right here.”

He huffed, but it wasn’t his usual theatrical sound of complaint—it was something quieter, something raw. “Still don’t like it.”

His arms moved before you could react, looping around your waist, pulling you in, pulling you against him like you’d disappear the second he let go. His grip wasn’t desperate—but it was firm, certain, stubborn.

You exhaled, smoothing your fingers over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of him pressed against you. “For the past week, I gave you space,” you murmured. “You said you’d be painting something for an exhibit. That having me around was… distracting.”

Rafayel let out a soft scoff against your shoulder, his grip tightening—like he knew exactly where you were going with this and didn’t like it one bit.

“So I listened,” you continued. “I gave you space. And yet—” you pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your head and look at him, “—you’re acting like I vanished off the face of the earth.”

His eyes flickered over your face, something restless, unreadable, shifting beneath the surface. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he pulled away, flopping back against the couch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, cutie,” he drawled, throwing an arm over his eyes like he was shielding himself from a particularly blinding light. “I was doing just fine.”

You raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking pointedly to the chaotic mess of crumpled papers and paint-streaked cloth littering the room. “Yeah. Clearly.”

A pause.

Then—his fingers twitched. A tell.

You caught it—the way his fingers curled slightly, a fraction too tense, like a stray thread barely holding everything together. It was the smallest thing, but with Rafayel, the smallest things always spoke the loudest.

Your gaze softened. “Rafayel.”

His arm remained over his eyes, but his lips twitched—just a little, like he was debating whether to smirk or frown. In the end, he did neither.

Instead, his other hand lifted, reaching blindly for you, fingers curling loosely around your wrist. He didn’t pull you closer. Didn’t say anything. Just held on.

Your chest ached.

“You were doing fine, huh?” you said quietly, shifting so you could properly look at him. “Then why does this look like the aftermath of a war zone?”

Rafayel groaned, finally dragging his arm away from his face to glare at you. “It’s called the creative process, cutie. Not all of us can be effortless masterpieces.”

You snorted, unconvinced. “Right. Creative process. Is that why you sent me a hundred messages at three in the morning?”

He clicked his tongue, clearly about to dodge the question with something absurd, but you squeezed his wrist before he could. The reaction was immediate—his mouth shut, his eyes flickering toward your touch.

For a second, just a second, you saw it again—that restlessness, that hesitation, the war between wanting you close and pretending he didn’t.

Then, quieter, you asked, “You really didn’t want me here?”

His jaw shifted. He looked away, fingers tightening around yours, voice dropping lower. “That’s not—” He exhaled sharply, as if physically forcing himself to swallow down whatever instinct had been his first response. “Don’t twist my words, cutie. You know what I meant.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “You could have just asked me to come by, you know.”

Rafayel’s gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

“For the past week,” you continued, voice steady, “even when you told me I’d be a distraction… if you really wanted me here, you could have just said so.”

His fingers twitched again, his grip flexing slightly around your wrist. “That’s—” He clicked his tongue, his expression shifting like he was trying to rearrange his thoughts faster than he could say them. “That’s not how it works, cutie.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No? Then how does it work?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair before letting his head loll back against the couch. “I don’t know.” His voice was quieter now, like he hated admitting it. “I don’t know how to want something and not ruin it at the same time.”

Your chest tightened.

It was the closest he had come to saying it outright—that he didn’t just want you here. He needed you here.

And it terrified him.

You sighed, shifting closer, your hand settling over his where it rested on the couch. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at you either. His fingers flexed beneath yours, restless.

“I don’t want you to shut me out,” you said, gentle but firm. “Even if I know what you want by now—I still respected what you asked of me. I didn’t come by, I gave you space, because I thought that’s what you needed.” You hesitated, then softer, “Was I wrong?”

A muscle in Rafayel’s jaw twitched. His lips pressed together, something pensive behind his gaze.

Then, with an exhale, he finally looked at you.

“You weren’t wrong,” he murmured. “I thought I needed it too.” He huffed a soft laugh, humorless. “Turns out, I’m just an idiot.”

You smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t say you’re an idiot.”

“Then what would you say?”

You squeezed his hand lightly. “Stubborn. A little dramatic.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but instead, he only turned his hand over, fingers curling around yours. His thumb brushed idly over your knuckles, contemplative.

“You should’ve just ignored me,” he said after a moment.

You raised an eyebrow. “And let you suffer in silence?”

“I would’ve survived.”

You gave him a look.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I wouldn’t have.” He peeked at you from between his fingers, voice quieter now, more uncertain. “But you still listened to me, didn’t you?”

Something in the way he said it made your stomach twist—not with relief, but with something heavier. Like it hurt him in a way he didn’t know how to put into words. Like it would’ve been easier if you hadn’t.

You held his gaze, steady, unwavering. “I did,” you admitted. “But I would’ve come—if only you asked.”

You exhaled, your fingers tightening around his. “And now I did come, because I knew this wasn’t just about me liking Thomas’ post.”

Rafayel stilled. Just slightly. His hand in yours remained lax, but his grip on your other hand faltered for half a second—like you had struck something he wasn’t prepared for.

Then he scoffed, leaning his head back against the couch, gaze flicking elsewhere. “Obviously. You think I care that much about some dumb post?”

You gave him a pointed look. “You called me over it.”

His mouth opened—then closed. His expression twisted into something begrudging.

“Okay, maybe I cared a little.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rafayel.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple, before finally—finally—meeting your gaze. But he didn’t look teasing now. Didn’t look like the Rafayel who had whined about your stubbornness through text messages or tried to act put out when you showed up at his door.

There was something raw there. A flicker of hesitation, of want, of something he had trouble admitting even now.

“Fine,” he muttered. “It wasn’t just about the post.” His eyes searched yours, voice quiet. “It was about you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at you. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but the words hesitated—lingering somewhere between thought and voice.

Then, with a heavy breath, he raked a hand through his tousled hair and dropped his head back against the couch, exhaling sharply through his nose. “You really wanna talk about this, huh?” His voice was light, almost teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something strained.

You didn’t answer right away. You just held his gaze, waiting.

Rafayel let out a soft, humorless laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “Shit,” he muttered. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you want,” you said gently.

He was silent for a while. Then, finally, he sat up properly, elbows resting on his knees, fingers lacing together like he was grounding himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. Not soft—Rafayel never did soft—but honest.

“I don’t like being alone.” The words came slow, deliberate. His thumb ran idly over his knuckles, a nervous habit you rarely saw from him. “Not really. Not when it’s—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Whatever. You get it.”

You did.

He exhaled, tilting his head, gaze flickering toward the painting propped up on the easel—the one he had clearly agonized over. “I told you I needed space. That I had to focus, that I—” He scoffed, pressing his fingers to his temple. “But the second you gave it to me, it was like—like something was missing.” His eyes flicked to you, laced with something almost accusing, almost vulnerable. “It was unbearable.”

You swallowed, watching the way his fingers curled, the way his expression twisted between frustration and something he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.

“I kept telling myself it was fine,” he continued, voice rough, like he hated the confession even as it left his lips. “That it was good, even. That I could work without distraction. But every time I tried to paint—every time—I just ended up staring at the damn canvas, thinking about you instead.” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I hate that.”

You frowned. “Hate what?”

Rafayel clenched his jaw. “Hate that I need you this much.”

Your breath hitched. His words, raw and unguarded, settled between you like something heavy.

He laughed, short and sharp. “God, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” His fingers curled against his knee. “I used to paint because I had to. Because it was mine. And now—now I feel like I’m dragging you into it too.” His expression darkened, something bitter curling at the edges. “Like I’m taking from you.”

You knew what he meant. Rafayel had always taken from the world. From pain, from suffering, from the ghosts of things that could never be restored. His art had always come from that—extraction. And now, you could see the fear in his eyes. That he had started doing the same with you. That his love for you, his need, had become something he feared he would drain dry.

But you didn’t move away. Didn’t recoil. Instead, you reached out, your fingers brushing over his, grounding him back.

“You’re not taking from me,” you said, firm but gentle. “I’m here because I want to be.”

He stared at you for a long moment. Then his fingers curled over yours, his grip tight—desperate, almost.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. But you could hear the waver in his voice. The uncertainty.

Like he wanted to believe you. Like he didn’t know if he could.

Rafayel’s fingers tightened over yours, his grip feverish, like he was anchoring himself to something—someone—before he could spiral too far. His eyes flickered, restless, torn between frustration and something else, something raw.

“It doesn’t help,” he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself. “That you’re always here. That you’re not—” His jaw clenched, and he looked away, shaking his head. “That you’re not pushing me away.”

You frowned, squeezing his hand. “Why would I?”

His laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Because you should.”

You inhaled, steadying yourself. “Rafayel—”

“No, listen.” He pulled back slightly, though his fingers still lingered over yours, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. “You don’t turn me down. Not when I act like a pain in the ass. Not when I pull you into my mess. Not when I—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “You don’t even get mad when I tell you to stay away, then act like an idiot when you actually do.”

You swallowed, watching the way his expression shifted—tight, conflicted, like the words hurt to say.

“You don’t leave,” he said finally, quieter this time, almost accusing. “And it just—it just makes it worse.”

Your breath hitched. “Worse?”

His eyes flickered to yours, something turbulent beneath the surface.

“I keep thinking,” he murmured, voice rough. “That if you did—if you pushed me away, even just a little—maybe I could stop needing you this much.”

The air between you felt heavy, thick with something unsaid.

He huffed out a humorless laugh, tilting his head back against the couch. “But you won’t, will you?” His eyes, shadowed and tired, flicked to yours. “You never do.”

You didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Rafayel exhaled, shutting his eyes briefly before opening them again, something tired—something helpless—settling behind his gaze.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I thought.”

Rafayel let out a slow breath, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. His fingers raked through his tousled hair, shoulders tense, like he was holding something back—like he was bracing himself.

“I don’t trust it,” he admitted finally, voice low, rough around the edges.

You frowned. “Trust what?”

His lips twisted, like he was trying to find the right words. “This. You.” A pause, then he huffed out a quiet laugh, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not because of anything you’ve done. You’re—you’re too good to me, cutie.”

The way he said it—like it was an accusation—made your heart ache.

Rafayel’s hands flexed against his knees before curling into fists. “It’s just that…I know what it’s like. To have someone be everything. To be convinced that no matter what, they won’t leave.” His fingers twitched. “And then one day, they do.”

Your chest tightened. “Rafayel—”

“You can say it won’t happen,” he cut in, looking at you now, eyes dark with something heavy. “You can promise all you want. But I’ve heard it before.” He let out a shaky breath. “I’ve believed it before.”

Your heart pounded.

“And that’s why I—” He broke off, shaking his head. “That’s why I don’t know what the hell I want. One second, I need you here, and the next, I think maybe—maybe it’d be easier if you weren’t.”

Your breath caught.

“Because if I let myself have this—if I let myself need you—” He swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “Then what happens when you leave?”

There it was. The real fear.

Not anger. Not frustration.

Just the quiet, aching certainty that he would be left behind. Again.

Your throat tightened. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his hand. His fingers were still curled into a fist, knuckles white, but you pried them open, threading your fingers through his. Warm. Calloused. Shaking.

“Then I won’t,” you said simply.

His breath hitched. His gaze snapped to yours, searching, uncertain. “You don’t—you can’t know that.”

“I do.” You squeezed his hand. “Rafayel, I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a ragged breath, and you held his hand tighter. “No matter what happens, no matter what you do, how much space you need, or how much you push and pull—I’m here.” Your voice was steady, certain, because you meant it. “I’ll always be here.”

Rafayel exhaled sharply, as if the weight of your words had knocked the air from his lungs. He looked away, jaw tight, throat working like he was trying to swallow something down.

“You say that now,” he muttered, voice rough, “but—”

“But nothing,” you cut in gently, tugging his hand just enough to make him look at you again. “You’re not just some phase in my life, Rafayel. You matter to me.” Your thumb brushed over his knuckles. “I’m not leaving. Not now. Not ever.”

His breath shuddered out of him, his fingers tightening around yours like he was afraid to let go. And for the first time since you’d arrived, you saw it—that tiny flicker of hope beneath all the doubt.

Your lips curled into a small smile. “You know… you’re not the only one who needs someone, Rafayel.”

He huffed, shaking his head. “That so?”

“Mmhm.” You squeezed his hand, tilting your head playfully. “I just happen to be better at hiding it. Comes with the job, you know. Can’t have my client thinking his bodyguard is just as much of a mess as he is.”

That earned you a scoff, though there was the faintest trace of amusement in it. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You shrugged. “I mean, think about it. If I didn’t need you, why the hell would I be here at three in the morning?”

Rafayel stilled. His grip on your hand faltered for half a second before tightening again. You saw his throat bob, his lips part slightly—like he wanted to argue, to throw something back at you. But he didn’t. Because you were right.

His gaze flickered, searching yours, as if trying to find a crack in your resolve, some sign that you were just saying this to make him feel better. But there was none. You meant it.

A breath left him, shakier than he probably wanted it to be. Then, quietly, he muttered, “…Idiot.”

You grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

You suddenly sighed dramatically, stretching your arms above your head before letting them drop. “You know, you didwake me up in the middle of the night. And I did drag myself all the way here, just for you.”

Rafayel arched a brow, skepticism flickering over his face. “You just said you came for me.”

Before he could go any further, you reached out, cupping his jaw with one hand and pressing his cheeks together, effectively smushing his lips into a ridiculous pout. “Shhh.”

His brows furrowed, a muffled noise of protest escaping him.

You smirked. “See? Much better.”

His eyes burned into you, but the effect was entirely ruined by the way his lips were puckered like a sulking child. You had to bite back a laugh.

Rafayel made another unintelligible sound, hands coming up to pry yours away, but you held firm, tilting your head. “Now, are you gonna make it up to me or what?”

Without letting go, you leaned in, pressing the softest, most fleeting kiss against his ridiculously pouted lips.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Rafayel tensed, his entire body going rigid beneath your touch. And then—

His face erupted in color. A deep, searing red that bloomed across his cheeks, climbed to the tips of his ears, and even dusted down the length of his neck. His eyes widened, pupils dilating, mouth parting slightly as if his brain had short-circuited entirely.

You pulled back just enough to see the full effect, utterly pleased with yourself.

His hands, which had been trying to pry yours off a second ago, twitched uselessly before dropping altogether.

“Wha—” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, glaring at you as best he could while still blushing furiously. “What the hell was that?”

You grinned, finally releasing his jaw, tapping his cheek lightly. “You looked too cute not to.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing. But the red across his face refused to fade. If anything, it darkened.

“I hate you,” he muttered, voice thick with embarrassment.

You hummed, utterly unbothered. “No, you don’t.”

He didn’t respond—because he couldn’t. Not when his body betrayed him so obviously.

Before he could recover, you leaned in again, this time pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his flushed cheek.

Rafayel froze.

A sharp inhale, his fingers twitching against your waist as if debating whether to push you away or pull you closer. The warmth of his skin burned beneath your lips, the heat radiating from him palpable.

And then—

A strangled noise. Half a scoff, half something else entirely. “You—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply, tilting his head away as if that could somehow hide the deepening red overtaking his face.

His ears. His ears were burning.

You smiled against his skin. “You’re really easy to fluster, you know that?”

His hand curled into the fabric of your sweater. “Shut up.”

You kissed his other cheek just to spite him.

Another sharp inhale. Another full-body flinch.

“Cutie.” His voice was strained, and when you finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes were dark, unreadable, something perilously close to desperate lurking beneath the surface.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. The way his breath fanned against your skin. The way his grip on you had tightened, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers if he let go.

And then, quieter and lower—almost hesitant—he spoke.

“…You’re doing this on purpose.”

You barely had a second to process the way his eyes darkened before he moved.

A sharp tug—your breath hitched—then suddenly, the world tilted.

Before you could react, you found yourself toppled onto the couch, your back pressed against the cushions, Rafayelhovering above you. His grip on your waist was firm, his body heat overwhelming, and his beautiful eyes—flushed with something you couldn’t quite name—devoured you.

You blinked. “Raf—”

And then he kissed you.

No hesitation. No teasing remark. Just desperation, raw and unfiltered, poured into the space between you. His lips found yours in a feverish press, warm, insistent—taking.

Your fingers curled into his shirt instinctively, anchoring yourself as he deepened the kiss, as if trying to chase away something neither of you had spoken aloud. His weight caged you in, a solid, unrelenting presence above you, his hand sliding from your waist to cradle your cheek.

It was different from before—this wasn’t just his usual playful antics, wasn’t just him indulging in his own flirtation.

This was real.

A shuddering breath left him as he pulled back just an inch, enough for your lips to part but not enough to create space. His forehead rested against yours, his own breath uneven.

“…You came for me,” he murmured, almost like he still couldn’t believe it.

You smoothed your hands over his back, feeling the tension in his frame, the way he was holding himself back. “I did.”

His lips brushed against yours again, softer this time. “Say it again.”

You smiled, breathless. “I came for you.”

His exhale was shaky, his hold on you tightening. Then, he kissed you—slower, more lingering, like he was memorizing every second. 

For a moment, it was like that.

His lips pressed against yours again—harder this time, more forceful, less patient. The teasing, the usual playful give-and-take between you, was gone.

This was different.

His weight pressed you down into the couch, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted. His other hand curled around your hip, firm, possessive—demanding.

You barely had time to breathe before he was kissing you again and again—deeper, slower, like he was trying to carve the feeling of you into himself. There was heat, unmistakable and consuming, but also a quiet desperation simmering just beneath the surface.

His lips left yours only to trail along your jaw, then lower—lower—pressing against the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“You always do this,” he murmured, voice rough, breath warm against your throat.

You shivered. “Do what?”

He pulled back just enough for you to see his face, still flushed, ears burning, but his gaze? That wasn’t the usual playful Rafayel staring down at you. It was something deeper. Darker. Unrestrained.

“Make me want more,” he said, his thumb tracing slow, maddening circles against your hip. “And you don’t even try.”

Your breath hitched as his lips found yours again, more insistent, more relentless. His grip tightened, keeping you right there, letting you feel every bit of his warmth against you.

Your breath was unsteady as you tilted your head back against the couch, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. His lips ghosted over your jaw again, trailing lower, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to make you feel him.

“What…” Your voice came out weaker than you intended, a soft, breathless thing. “What are you doing?”

Rafayel huffed a quiet laugh against your skin, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat. When he pulled back just enough for you to see his face, his smirk was smug, but his eyes—half-lidded, dark with heat—betrayed something else.

“Making it up to you,” he murmured. “Like you asked.”

Then his lips were back on you—pressing, dragging their way down the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate. His hands, warm and steady, slid along your sides, mapping out the shape of you through your clothes.

You barely had time to breathe before his kisses wandered lower—just beneath your collarbone, just above the fabric of your sweater—his fingers toying with the hem as if debating how much further he could push.

He wanted to push.

You could feel it in the way his grip flexed against your waist, the way his breath came out uneven, like he was barely holding himself together.

But he was waiting.

Waiting for you to stop him.

Waiting for you to tell him no.

And when you didn’t—when you stayed still beneath him, your own breath shaky, your fingers curling into his shirt like you needed him there—his smirk faltered for just a second.

Rafayel barely gave you a second to register what was happening before his arms wrapped around you, strong and unwavering. A startled gasp left your lips as he lifted you, pressing you flush against him as he rose to his feet.

Your arms instinctively tightened around his shoulders, legs curling slightly, but he carried you with ease—his grip firm, his body heat seeping into yours through the fabric of your clothes.

He didn’t stop kissing you.

Even as he moved, his lips barely left yours, stealing breath after breath, deepening the kiss with each slow, deliberate step. His pace was unhurried, almost lazy, like he was indulging in every second it took to drag you both toward the bedroom.

His fingers flexed against your thighs, pressing you closer, and you could feel the way his heart pounded—just as wild, just as reckless as yours.

Somewhere between the hallway and the door, you tried to murmur his name, but he swallowed the sound with another kiss, tilting his head, teasing you, taking you apart one stolen breath at a time.

By the time your back met the soft sheets, Rafayel was hovering over you, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, his lips swollen, his breath uneven. His tousled hair framed his face, a few strands falling over his forehead, and his cheeks—his ears—were still red.

But his expression was different now. Not the usual playful teasing. Not the embarrassed flustered mess you were used to. Something deeper. 

And he was still looking at you like he was starving.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze.

But he doesn’t let you.

Instead, his fingers trail up your skin, his touch searing, possessive. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, voice low, thick with something you can’t quite name “You said I had to make it up to you. What, getting shy now?”

You barely have time to react before his fingers curl into the fabric of your sweater, tugging it up with slow, deliberate intent. The air kisses your skin as he drags the material higher, his fingertips brushing along your sides—light, teasing, making you shiver.

His gaze never wavers. Heavy-lidded, sharp with intent, the dusky pink in his eyes darkening like the sky before a storm. He drinks in every inch of you as more of your skin is revealed, his breath coming a little heavier, his lips parting just slightly.

“See?” His voice is low, almost coaxing, though there’s an edge of something darker beneath it. Hungrier. “Nothing to be shy about, cutie.”

The sweater slips over your head in one smooth motion, and before you can even process the loss of warmth, his hands are on you again—this time against the curve of your waist.

His hands move with unhurried precision, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. The fabric bunches under his touch as he drags it down, knuckles grazing the curve of your hips, the dip of your thighs—his touch light, but purposeful.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t give you the chance to hide. His eyes drink you in, dark with something unreadable, something smoldering beneath the surface.

“Still with me?” His voice is lower now, rougher, as if he’s feeling the weight of this just as much as you are.

You nodded.

The fabric pools at your ankles, and his hands return to your skin, smoothing over newly exposed warmth. His thumbs press gently into your hips, grounding, as if savoring every second. As if making sure you’re not going anywhere.

“You’re perfect—so perfect.” he mumbled.

“Raf—” you murmured, skin flushing at his words.

His lips curved, fingers tracing slow, reverent lines over your skin, as if memorizing every inch. He leaned in, pressing a kiss just above your knee, then another, his breath warm against your skin.

“You don’t even know, do you?” His voice was quiet, almost in awe. His hands skimmed higher, thumbs grazing your hip bones, his touch a slow burn. “How impossible it is not to want you. Not to need you.”

Your breath hitched. He was everywhere—his warmth, his presence, the way his eyes pinned you beneath the weight of his gaze.

“Rafayel—” You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, but he only hummed, the sound deep, pleased.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing another lingering kiss to your skin. “You don’t have to say anything.”

His fingers curled against your thighs, his grip tightening just enough to make you shiver. His touch was deliberate, lingering—like he wanted to take his time. Like he had no intention of letting you go.

You shuddered as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. With a slow, deliberate tug, he began to drag them down, inch by excruciating inch, his knuckles grazing against your sensitive skin.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding between your legs as he finally eased your panties off completely, leaving you bare and exposed before him. His gaze was intense, almost reverent, as he took in the sight of you, his eyes darkening with desire.

Without saying a word, he parted your folds with his fingers, exposing your glistening, needy flesh to his hungry gaze. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the intimacy of the moment, your body trembling slightly under his touch.

Rafayel traced a single finger along your slit, not quite penetrating, but teasing you mercilessly. He gathered the moisture that had already begun to gather at your opening and brought his coated finger to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste you.

His eyes fluttered closed briefly at the flavor, a soft groan escaping his lips. “God, you taste so good, cutie.” he murmured, his voice rough and low.

A whine bubbled at your throat, “Rafayel, y-you…”

He dipped his finger between your folds once more, gathering more of your essence, before smearing it along your sensitive flesh. He didn’t push inside, didn’t give you the satisfaction of penetration just yet. Instead, he simply smeared your arousal along your slit and around your clit, teasing you with the lightest touch.

Rafayel reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he guided it between your legs. He pressed your palm against your slick, heated flesh, urging you to start touching yourself.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself while I undress for you.”

With his other hand, he began to unbutton his shirt, his fingers working slowly, almost teasingly. He shrugged the garment off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he revealed his toned, pale chest.

His eyes never left yours as he reached for his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. The clinking of the metal made your heart race, your breathing growing more ragged as anticipation built.

“I want to see you touch yourself, cutie. Come on…” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. 

He shoved his pants down his hips, his hard, thick length springing free, already visibly aroused, slick forming at the tip. He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a single, slow stroke from base to tip.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered again, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. “Show me how much you need me.”

With trembling fingers, you began to touch yourself, tracing your slick folds and circling your aching clit. Soft mewling sounds escaped your lips as you pleasured yourself, your hips rolling instinctively into your touch.

Rafayel loomed over you, kneeling between your spread thighs, his gaze riveted to your face. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes dark and intense as he watched your every expression, every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features.

His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading your leg further, opening you more to his hungry gaze. “That’s it….” he murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble. “Touch yourself just like that.”

You could feel the heat of his body, the way his skin seemed to burn against yours. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as you circled your clit faster, your fingers slick with your arousal.

Rafayel’s strokes grew more purposeful, his grip tightening around his thick length as he watched you. The sight of him touching himself while he stared at you with such raw, unbridled lust sent a surge of heat through your core.

“Rafayel,” you gasped, your back arching off the bed as you felt the first flutters of your impending release. Your fingers moved frantically over your clit, your body tensing, your thighs trembling.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to watch you come undone. I want to see your face, cutie.”

His words, his intense gaze, the feeling of your fingers on your clit—it all pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you, your body shaking and convulsing as waves of intense pleasure consumed you.

Through it all, Rafayel watched you, his strokes growing more urgent, more desperate as he chased his own release. The sight of your pleasure seemed to drive him wild, his chest heaving, his grip on himself almost punishing.

As your orgasm subsided, leaving you trembling and gasping, Rafayel let out a guttural groan. His strokes became erratic, his grip tightening around his throbbing length as he found his own release.

“Look at me. Just m-me.” he moaned, his voice cracking.

Your eyes locked, and almost immediately, thick ropes of his hot seed spilled from the tip of his cock, painting your stomach and thighs with his essence. The sight of his pleasure, the feeling of his warmth coating your skin, sent a fresh surge of desire coursing through you.

Before the last waves of his climax had even subsided, Rafayel pressed the swollen head of his cock against your sensitive, dripping folds. He coated himself in your arousal, mixing your fluids together as he teasingly parted your lower lips.

“Rafayel,” you whimpered, still sensitive from your own intense orgasm. The feeling of his hard, hot length pressing against your core made you clench and quiver with anticipation.

He didn’t push inside, not yet. Instead, he simply rubbed the head of his cock along your slit, up and down, coating himself fully in your slick heat. His eyes, dark and intense, stayed locked with yours, watching your every reaction.

“Tell me you want it,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “Tell me you need my cock inside you…”

His words, the feeling of his hard length stroking your most intimate place, made your heart race and your breath come in short, sharp gasps. You could feel the heat of him, the way his skin seemed to burn against yours.

“I need it,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Rafayel. I need you inside me.”

Rafayel cursed under his breath, “Fuck. You’re driving me insane.”

Agonizingly, he pushed the head of his cock inside you, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of your tight, wet heat enveloping just the tip. He paused there, his hips pressed against your inner thighs, as he savored the sensation.

Your back arched off the bed slightly, your hands fisting in the sheets below you. The stretch of you around him was delicious, the way your walls fluttered and clenched around just that small part of him.

“You feel incredible,” Rafayel breathed, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. His fingers dug into your hips, his grip tightening as he fought the urge to surge forward and bury himself fully inside you.

He rolled his hips forward just slightly, the head of his cock pushing in a little deeper, stretching you just a fraction more. The movement made you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets as a jolt of pleasure shot through you.

Rafayel’s eyes were glued to your face, watching every flicker of emotion and sensation cross your features. 

He let out a breathy chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk even as his cheeks and ears burned red. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement and something darker, more indulgent. “Clinging to me like this, and I’ve barely even started.”

You glared at him, your body trembling, “S-Shut up…”

His breath hitched, the smirk on his lips faltering for just a second before he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can’t,” he rasped, his voice unsteady, tinged with something raw. “Not when you feel this good… not when you’re making it so damn hard to hold back.”

Rafayel couldn’t hold back any longer. With a low, guttural groan, he surged forward, burying his hard, thick length deep inside your tight, wet heat. He didn’t stop until he had pushed in to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against yours, his heavy balls nestling against your skin.

“See?” he murmured, voice rough, uneven. “Told you… I need you. Don’t ever—” His lips found your temple, your cheek, anywhere he could reach. “Don’t ever leave me…”

You bit your lower lip, before gasping, “I-I won’t Raf—”

Slowly, almost torturously so, Rafayel began to move. He withdrew until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before thrusting forward again, burying himself to the hilt. He set a deep, powerful rhythm, each thrust pushing you further up the mattress.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he held you in place. “If I ever tell you to leave me alone for a week again…” He let out a shaky laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Smack some sense into me, alright? Because that’s not me—never me.” 

He angled your hips to take him even deeper, his cock kissing your cervix with every driving thrust. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your gasps and his grunts of pleasure.

His lips brushed against your ear, voice raw, pleading. “Let me hear you, c-cutie—oh!” A pause, a sharp inhale as he held you closer. “Don’t hold back.”

Your breath hitched, fingers clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. “I—I’m not… just—” Your voice wavered, breaking into a gasp as heat curled in your spine. “Rafayel—”

His breath was hot against your skin, ragged and uneven. Then—sharp. A gasp tore from your lips as his teeth sank into your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you shiver.

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, lips brushing over the fresh mark before he soothed it with his tongue. His grip on your waist tightened, like he wanted to pull you even closer—like even now, even here, it wasn’t enough.

He pressed another bite just below the first, this time lingering, as if engraving himself into you. Then he pulled back, gaze hooded, cheeks flushed, lips red. “There. Now you really can’t leave me alone for a week.”

Rafayel drew back, breathless, his lips hovering just above your skin. His eyes were heavy-lidded, dazed, his flushed cheeks still burning with heat—but then you saw it.

The mark.

Faint at first, but unmistakable, glowing softly against his chest, just above his heart, near his collarbone. It pulsed in rhythm with his ragged breaths, a delicate yet unyielding reminder of something ancient, something that had endured beyond time itself.

Your fingers lifted before you could think, you’ve always been drawn to it. Even more so now. The moment you touched it, Rafayel shuddered—a full-body tremor, like you had reached inside and wrapped your hand around his very soul. His breath hitched, eyes snapping to yours, wide with something raw.

“Cutie—” His voice was hoarse, almost pleading, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t.

It’s like something in him snapped. Suddenly, Rafayel gripped your hips tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He used the leverage to pull you towards him, meeting each of his powerful thrusts and pressing you even closer.

Your own body moved with the force of his actions, your breasts bouncing with every slam of his hips against yours. You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your walls beginning to flutter and clench around his pistoning length.

“That’s it, c-cutie,” Rafayel grunted, his voice thick with desire and impending release. “Take it. Fuck, I can’t—you’re too much.”

He drove into you harder, faster, the bed creaking beneath the force of his thrusts. His balls slapped against your skin, the obscene sound spurring on his lust.

Suddenly, with a roar of your name, Rafayel slammed into you one last time. His cock jerked and throbbed as he found his release, thick ropes of his hot seed painting your insides. He ground his hips against yours, pressing as deep as he could go, making sure every last drop of his essence was buried inside you.

“Cutie—!” he bellowed, his body shuddering and convulsing above you. 

You could feel the heat of his release flooding your core, filling you up. Your own body responded in kind, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out, your voice joining his in a symphony of pleasure as you came undone around him.

You both stayed like that for a while, the sound of your breaths mingling.

As Rafayel finally pulled away, you shuddered at the sudden loss of warmth, your body still thrumming from him. He huffed out a breath, his forehead dropping against yours as if gathering himself—his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes making him look almost boyish, despite everything he’d just done.

Then, in true Rafayel fashion, he smirked. “Tired, cutie?” His voice was hoarse, but smug.

You scoffed, swatting weakly at his shoulder. “You’re seriously asking me that?”

He chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Just checking. Wouldn’t want my bodyguard passing out on duty.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest when he eased you onto your back, his hands already reaching for the discarded sheets to pull over you both. His fingers were surprisingly gentle as they traced over your skin, smoothing over every mark he’d left.

A comfortable silence settled between you as he ran his hands over your arms, your waist—touches more soothing than teasing now. Then, quietly, “You okay?”

You softened at that, at the way his usual bravado slipped just enough for you to see the raw concern underneath.

“I’m fine,” you reassured, brushing your knuckles over his cheek. “Though I think you owe me a week’s worth of massages for all that.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping dramatically beside you. “Demanding, aren’t you? First, you drag me out of my self-imposed exile, now you want labor?”

You smirked, shifting to drape yourself over his chest. “Shouldn’t have woken me up at 3 AM, then.”

Rafayel clicked his tongue but didn’t push you off. Instead, his arms curled around you, holding you so close it was almost suffocating—but in the best way. His lips ghosted over the crown of your head, lingering there.

“Not gonna make that mistake again,” he muttered. “Next time, just smack me back to my senses.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Deal.”

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

if you want to check out more of my writings, head on to here — masterlist.

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

prev story » ❤︎

“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me? 

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?” 

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Trophy Room” Lando Norris x Reader

Warning: smut, NSFW, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex.

Summary: Lando Norris throws a party in hopes of getting closer to Y/N, a girl he’s been crushing on, introduced by mutual friends. Amid drinks, dancing, and flirtation, their chemistry culminates into a moment away from the crowd, hinting at something deeper between them.

WC: 2,000?

Lando’s POV

The two weeks off couldn’t have come at a better time. After months of relentless training, race prep, and following a strict diet, I was ready to relax a bit. It’d been ages since I let loose, and tonight was all about unwinding. But honestly, the real reason I was throwing this party had less to do with relaxation and more to do with her. Y/N.

I don’t know what it was about her—something about the way she laughed or how she didn’t seem fazed by the chaos around her. She’d come into my life through Max and Pietra, his girlfriend, and since then, I’d found myself scrolling through her Instagram, even browsing her Spotify playlists just to feel like I knew her a little better. I was surprised to find out she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that I was checking specifically… but, okay, maybe I was.

The music was already pumping as people filled my penthouse. My mate Martin was on the DJ deck, setting the perfect vibe, and the drinks were flowing freely. The weight of the day’s workout still lingered in my muscles, but the buzz from a couple of shots was loosening me up. I was taking a shot with Max when I saw her walk in, and—well, let’s just say I almost choked on my drink.

I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to her. “Y/N! Shot?” I grinned, holding up the vodka bottle.

Y/N’s POV

Walking into Lando’s penthouse, I immediately felt a bit overwhelmed. The place was packed, and the music was loud enough to make the floor vibrate. I scanned the room for Pietra; she was the one who convinced me to come in the first place, promising me a fun night and a chance to unwind.

Before I could find her, though, I heard my name being called. I looked over and saw Lando, smirking, with a bottle of vodka in hand, waving me over. He had this look in his eye that told me he was already a little tipsy. The group around him started chanting my name, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay… fine!” I made my way over, and Lando immediately started pouring me a shot, spilling a bit as he did. He was definitely drunk, and he was being flirty in a way that caught me off guard.

“Don’t look so scared, it’s just vodka,” he teased with a grin. “Come on, cutie… I’ll pour you an extra large one.”

I laughed, trying to hide the fact that his confidence was making me blush. “I think I can handle it, thanks.” I downed the shot, my face scrunching up as the vodka burned its way down.

He burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, was it that bad?” He watched me, his gaze lingering a little too long, and I felt his eyes sweep over me. It was like he was taking in every detail, from my dress to the way I was reacting to him.

“You never followed me back, by the way,” he said, pouting in a way that was both ridiculous and kind of cute.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Didn’t know you were checking, Mr. Norris.”

“Oh, I’ve been checking,” he replied, leaning closer. “Just waiting on you to notice.” His words were playful, but his eyes had a glint that made my stomach flutter.

He poured me another shot before I had a chance to protest, grinning as he held it out. “One more. Think you can keep up?”

I raised an eyebrow, taking the glass. “Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”

I took the shot, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through me. The music seemed louder, the lights dimmer, and everything around me just felt more alive. I was definitely feeling the buzz now.

As more people arrived, the party got even more crowded, and every time Lando moved away, I’d find him gravitating back toward me, like he wasn’t content unless he was close. Eventually, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward the makeshift dance floor.

“Come on!” he yelled over the music, his grin infectious.

I laughed, letting him lead me, and he immediately started dancing, his movements exaggerated as he tried to make me laugh. His energy was electric, and soon I couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. At one point, a few people bumped into me, and he quickly grabbed my hips, pulling me closer. I could feel his breath on my ear as he leaned in.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, smirking as he looked down at me.

My face heated up at his words, but he was already pulling back, that same cocky smile on his face. “What?” I challenged, trying to keep my cool.

He shrugged, giving me a look that was equal parts daring and mischievous. “Just stating facts.”

Before I could respond, he tilted his head, giving me a mischievous grin. “Wanna see something cool?”

“What do you have in mind?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I wanna show you my trophies.” He held my gaze, and even in his drunken state, I could feel the sincerity in his eyes.

I felt my stomach twist in excitement and nerves, but before I could second-guess, he grabbed my hand, leading me down a hallway. His fingers laced through mine, and I could feel the warmth of his hand, grounding me in the moment.

He opened a door to a room that had a display case filled with trophies, awards, and helmets. The room felt quieter, the music from the party faint in the background, and for a moment, it was like we’d stepped into a different world. He watched as I took it all in, a proud but slightly shy expression on his face.

“You’re really good at what you do,” I said softly, looking back at him.

He shrugged, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “It’s just racing… I dunno, sometimes it feels like people only see this side of me, y’know?”

I nodded, understanding more than I expected. “Well, it’s impressive. But I think I’m seeing another side of you tonight too.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “You mean the drunk idiot?”

“No,” I laughed. “The Lando who cares, who’s goofy and… real.”

His gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “I’m really glad you came tonight, Y/N.”

My heart pounded as he looked at me, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something warmer, something… real. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his hand lingering for a moment.

Without thinking, I found myself leaning in, and he met me halfway, his lips soft and warm against mine. It was a gentle kiss, both of us testing the waters, but as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, the kiss deepened, filled with the energy and intensity that had been simmering between us all night.

He pulled me closer, his drunken confidence fueling his actions. With a sudden force, he pushed me back against one of the trophy cases, his lips hungrily claiming mine. I was taken aback, not expecting this level of intensity from Lando. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine as he sucked on it fervently.

His hands roamed down my body, finally settling on my ass. He gripped it tightly, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, evidence of his desire for me. My mind was reeling, trying to process the abrupt change in our dynamic. I hadn't realized Lando wanted me this badly, but I found myself responding to his touch, my body melting into his.

As he continued to kiss me passionately, I felt a sense of excitement and nervousness coursing through me. This wasn't what I had anticipated for tonight, but the thrill of the unexpected was intoxicating. His hands slid under my dress, caressing my thighs, inching closer to my most intimate area. I let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by his lips against mine.

Lando abruptly pulled away from our heated embrace, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the trophy room, his steps hurried and determined. We stumbled down the hallway, our laughter echoing off the walls as we made our way towards his bedroom.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he pushed me onto the bed, his body following suit. He hovered over me, his eyes dark with desire and his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "You're so fucking beautiful," he slurred, his words slightly jumbled. "I want to devour you, my little puppy."

I couldn't help but giggle at his drunken attempt at dirty talk. "You're drunk," I teased, playfully swatting at his chest.

He chuckled, his hand grasping mine and pinning it above my head. "Maybe I am, but I know what I want, and I want you. All of you." His other hand trailed down my body, slipping beneath my dress and caressing my skin.

I squirmed beneath his touch, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through my veins. "Then take me," I whispered, my voice laced with desire. "Show me what you've got, Lando."

With a growl, he captured my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth with a fervor that left me breathless. His hand continued its exploration, sliding up my thigh and teasing the edge of my panties. I gasped into the kiss, my hips instinctively bucking against his touch.

Lost in the heat of the moment, I surrendered myself to Lando's drunken passion, eager to see where the night would take us.

Lando's lips trailed hot kisses down my neck as his hands continued to explore my body. He nipped and sucked at my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks that I knew would be visible in the morning. His drunken dirty talk continued, each word sending a shiver down my spine.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he mumbled against my skin, his hands fumbling with the hem of my dress. "I want to taste every inch of you, my little puppy."

I could feel his eagerness, but I noticed him struggling with my dress. A mischievous idea formed in my mind, and I gently pushed him back onto the bed. He looked up at me with a confused yet amused expression.

"Let me help you with that," I purred, my fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. His smirk grew wider as he watched me take control.

"Little puppy's not so shy now, huh?" he teased drunkenly, his voice low and husky.

I hooked my fingers into his waistband and slowly pulled his jeans down, revealing his hardness straining against his boxers. "Not when I've got you right where I want you," I replied with a wink.

I leaned down, my hair falling around us like a curtain as I pressed soft kisses along his inner thigh. His hands tangled in my hair, tugging gently as I worked my way closer to his aching member.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're driving me crazy," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly.

I looked up at him through my lashes, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "That's the idea," I whispered before taking him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around his shaft as I began to work him with my tongue.

I continued to suck on Lando's hardness, my tongue swirling around his shaft as I took him deeper into my mouth. His moans filled the room, his fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as I pleasured him. I was surprised by my own boldness, but there was something about Lando that made me feel comfortable and confident.

As I bobbed my head up and down, I felt a surge of pride when I tasted his precum. It was a sign of his pleasure, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was the cause of it. However, before I could continue, he gently pulled me off and flipped me onto my back, his body hovering over mine.

He moved to check his drawer for a condom, but after a few moments of rummaging, he cursed under his breath. "Can I... please fuck you? With nothing..." he asked drunkenly, his voice laden with desire.

My face heated up at his request, and I felt a mix of uncertainty and need coursing through me. I knew the risks, but in that moment, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. His lips trailed kisses along my neck, his hands caressing my skin as he waited for my response.

"Lando," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure? We shouldn't..."

But even as the words left my lips, I knew I was already lost in the heat of the moment. His touch ignited a fire within me, and I found myself craving more. I hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving in to my desires.

"Okay," I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

A triumphant grin spread across his face as he positioned himself at my entrance. "You won't regret this, pretty girl," he promised, his voice thick with lust.

And with that, he thrust into me, filling me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my nails digging into his back as he began to move inside me. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and I knew there was no turning back now.

Lando continued to thrust into me, his movements fueled by a mix of lust and alcohol. His hands roamed my body, caressing every curve and dip as he lost himself in the pleasure of our intimate connection. I moaned softly, my hands gripping the sheets beneath us as I surrendered to the sensations coursing through me.

Suddenly, his hand slipped between our bodies, his fingers finding my sensitive clit. He rubbed it gently, his touch sending waves of pleasure through my core. I gasped, my hips bucking against his hand as he skillfully brought me closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he slurred, his drunken dirty talk mingling with the sounds of our lovemaking. "I love how you feel around my cock, baby. You're taking it so well."

His words only heightened my arousal, and I found myself clinging to him, urging him on. I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me growing with each passing second. With a final stroke of his fingers and a particularly deep thrust, I came undone, my body shaking with the intensity of my release.

Lando followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside me. He collapsed on top of me, his breath hot against my neck as he tried to catch his breath. For a moment, we lay there, our bodies intertwined and our hearts racing.

Slowly, he rolled off of me and pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me in a tender embrace. He kissed my cheek softly, his touch gentle despite his inebriated state. "Was that okay, baby?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically sweet. "Do you need anything? Water, a towel, my bathroom is all yours."

I smiled, touched by his consideration. "I'm good," I assured him, snuggling closer.

As we caught our breath, Lando helped me pull my dress back down, his hands gentle and slightly unsteady due to his inebriated state. He reached up to fix my hair, his fingers combing through the tangled locks with a tenderness that belied his earlier drunken fervor. A smirk played on his lips as he admired his handiwork, clearly pleased with himself for finally getting the girl he had been crushing on.

"Maybe you'll follow me back now, huh?" he joked, referring to the fact that I hadn't followed him on Instagram. "I mean, after that performance, you owe me at least a like or two."

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. "We'll see," I teased, not wanting to make any promises just yet.

Lando took my hand and led me back to the party, his arm draped casually around my shoulders.

——————————————

Thank you for reading!

Liking and following let’s me know you appreciate the writing! 💜

[itoshhi]

𝜗𝜚 shidou ryusei | ex husband

❕smut mdni, hard sex.

“fuck off, if my daughter isn’t here tonight i’ll swear i‘ll kill you.” was all you said as you hung up on your ex-husband shidou. you had gotten divorced a few months ago, so… you’re separated?…

with the court’s and the two of you’re mutual decision, shidou had two days a week to see your daughter. even though you were separated, he was always a concerned father to his daughter. even though he had some irresponsible behaviors, he cared about his daughter. and you knew that he wouldn’t affect your daughter badly when you hung up on him, he was your daughter’s father after all. but he had already exceeded the time limit to bring your daughter home to you, and by the time the clock struck 9pm, your daughter was still not home.

➤ shidou

open the door honey

our little cutie fell asleep in my arms, i don’t think you want her to wake up with the ringing? :D

— sent 11pm

“i’m not your goddamned honey,” you thought. and yeah, that was the message you received a few hours ago. two hours before your ex-husband shidou was going to fuck you months after your divorce, despite the fact that you had broken up.

“r-ryusei! mngh-” you bit your own lower lip as you pulled on your ex-husband’s hair as he ate your pussy, trying not to make a sound. how many minutes had it been since he said he would ‘give you love’ and started eating you by taking off your underwear? one, two? oh, whatever.

“don’t,” he gripped your thighs tightly and opened them wider. “move.” you covered your mouth with one arm as he warned you in an almost growling tone, you had to be quiet so as not to wake your little girl from her deep dreams. until he reached his hand that was too big for you up and grabbed the wrist that you were covering your mouth with, pinning it to the bed.

“i’ll hear it,” he whispered stubbornly, of course he knew you had to be quiet so as not to wake yours little girl, but if there was something else he knew, it was the effort you were making to hide your moans. of course he knew that no matter how much he insisted, you would try to be quiet, and if you didn’t have your hands, you would press your lips together and try to be quiet. he knew.

it happened as he thought, you pressed your lips together and tried to hold back your voice since you couldn’t use your hand. you were going to heaven, yeah. after about 6 months, you were definitely in heaven when you felt his fingers inside you again. he continued to use his tongue while your back arched.

when you finally shivered and came, he pulled away from your shiny pussy with that damn grin of his and kissed your way up from your waist. you could barely understand his whispers, still so sensitive from the touch of someone else after months —your ex-husband, whom you had been with countless times. “missed me, hm? are you that needy, baby?”

he cupped your breasts over your bra and captured your lips. he hunted your lips like a hungry beast, god, you had thought he had already found a slut in your months of separation, but you were so wrong. he was longing for your touch, just like you. being rough was in his spirit, but this was longing lovemaking, and even though he was acting crazy while showing it, he missed you.

while he continued to kiss your lips, his fingers went towards your pussy and caressed it softly, you moaned against his lips with the feeling of still being sensitive and squeezed his shoulder with your fingers. in a few seconds, your position changed in a way you didn’t understand how, he laid you down on your stomach softly —even if being kind is the exact opposite of him.

you could feel his hardness on your hip as he unclasped your bra with one hand. even that made you feel more sensitive, he grabbed one of your exposed breasts and squeezed it softly. he leaned forward and pressed himself against you, and all you could think about during that time was how you missed those feelings.

after he took off his boxers, he almost immediately pressed himself against your wet pussy, without even waiting, he didn’t enter you. “r-ryu-“

“ssh, calm down baby…” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the spot between your neck and shoulder. “sensitive, huh?”

“for 6 months,” he wanted to hear it from you too, even though he knew the answer. “has anyone ever touched you?” you could tell by his voice that he was grinning. “r-ryu…”

“answer me.” he rubbed the tip of his cock against your sensitive pussy. “has anyone fuck you in 6 months?” he knew the answer, no. there was no way you could get over him that easily, and he hadn’t even touched anyone in the time you’d been apart. no matter how he acted, he was in love with you.

when you refused to answer and just whined, he stopped rubbing and turned you over again. you were lying on your back on the bed, legs wide open, and he started rubbing your pussy with his cock again. fuck, he was still stubborn even though months had passed. “n-no…” you whined, shaking your head slightly. “do it, come on…”

he let out a giggle that showed he was pleased with your answer and pressed himself against you softly. “is that so?” you let out a loud moan when you felt his cock inside you, not your own fingers, after months. “so fuckin’… tight…”

he held both sides of your waist for support as he pushed himself further. shidou never broke eye contact with you, your eyes watering with the mixed feelings of both pain and pleasure. he leaned forward slightly, wiping the tears under your eyes with his thumb and smirked. he lifted your legs a little more and pressed gentle kisses to your lower leg as he went even deeper inside you.

he waited for a few seconds to fully enter you. he waited for you to catch your breath and come to your senses, to get used to his size. a few seconds… “ryu- fuck, mghh!” just a few seconds to speed up and destroy you after months…

“ssh,” he silenced you by placing his own thumb on your cheek over your lips. “you don’t want to wake our girl, do you?” like damn, his voice was too fucking attractive right now. You slowly shook your head, his movements getting faster, faster than you could ever imagine to completely empty you. —even though he wanted to hear your moans which was enough to make him cum just by hearing it. but yours daughter shouldn’t have woken up.

“say my name,” he said, his hands on your waist tightly and rubbing them. “come on baby, who’s fucking you like this right now? hmm, who’s fucking you right now, tell me…”

like, uhm… i guess your ex-husband shidou won’t stop making you cum countless times tonight to show you miss him and to make you moan his name…

© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.} (she wrote about this twice and soo i think she really wanted it, i hope it meets your expectations)

[zlut4rina]

Imy♡

Storyline: Working overnight at a busy office job wasn't everyone's cup of tea, especially not your clingy girlfriends.

Pairings: Student!Ning x Businesswoman!reader

Warnings: public sex, phone sex, dirty talk (ithink)

Note: Both are 18+, obviously, ik I said I was making ning fluff, which I am obviously, but i wanted to make it two parts, and this just came to mind for part 1. Sorre

Word count: 2k (pretty short, idk how you could make 5k+ with just phone sex 😭)

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You hated your job. It was one of the most insufferable places on earth. But the money was good, you needed the money. You weren’t struggling to pay rent or for food. You were actually quite ahead on your bills. The reason being was because of this job, also with the help of your pretty roommate. After the fallout between you guys and a mutual friend, she was kicked out of their house. So you decided to take her in, of course. Unlike you, she was tight on money but somehow still managed to stay in her uni without problem. Ever since then, you two have been living together, then long after you bloomed a relationship with her. She was now your girlfriend of one year and three months, and you couldn’t be happier.

Present time

While finishing up a few papers left by your boss, you noticed some unopened emails on your screen. When opening them, you see at least 5 different request sent to you by a few employers and your boss. You sigh in annoyance, having a feeling you’re going to be here a bit longer than planned. Scrolling through your inbox, skimming through everything, you finally click one and start working. That’s when a coworker walks up to you, leaning on your wall divider. “How long you plan on being here, I thought only six of us had the night shift.” His question sounded genuine with concern in his voice, looking around the office as if scanning to make sure his count was right. “Seven is an odd number y’know” he lets out a stupid chuckle, one you’ve hated for so long. Looking up at him, taking you from your concentration, you spoke. “I have extra work I need to get done. Maybe I’ll be promoted, who knows. Doubt you would.” The last remark was snarky. You gave him a sarcastic smile, turning back to your work. The man left with a scoff, not before whipping a few papers off your desk, scrambling them in the process. You clicked your teeth at this. It wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now.

Continuing your work, already done with three of the assignments listed to you, your phone rang. Feeling the buzz on your thigh, you take it out, to your realization it was your girlfriend. You turn your head to the bottom corner of your computer screen to check the time. Seeing it was two hours past when you’d usually be home, a bit of sadness washed over you. Picking up the phone, you put it to your ear. “Hey baby, sorry I’m not home yet. I’ve got extra work I’ve gotta get done.” You spoke quietly into the speaker of your phone. Not to draw attention to yourself, your coworkers were all across the room, some just a row behind you. “It’s fine. I was just worried, is all” your girlfriend said, shuffling in bed, to get comfortable. “How long till you can come home, I miss you” she said in a whiny tone, her voice a bit hoarse due to being tired. She must’ve just woken up, you thought to yourself before answering her. “A while, baby, not too long, though. Don’t miss me too much, cutie.” You chuckled a bit as you spoke, earning a playful whine from the other side of the phone. “Hey I’m gonna connect my headphones so I can finish this work, okay, cutie?” The other girl responded in a hum as you pulled out your airpods and connected them to your phone. I'm sitting right next to your keyboard as you get back to work.

Half an hour had passed with you giggling and snickering at your phone. Finishing some more work, the other end of the call was a bit silent sometimes. She didn’t answer you with words mostly with hums or a few “uh huh’s” there wasn’t a problem in that at all, she was probably sleepy I mean its way passed 10 so of course she’s a bit less talkative. “I miss you” suddenly the other side of the phone spoke. Your eyes widened a bit, taking you out of your trance, and the corner of your lips formed a small grin. “I wish you were here right now” your girlfriend spoke in a soft tone. Barley able to hear her. “Me too, baby. I hope you're keeping the bed warm for me when I get home.” You let out a soft chuckle as she giggled quietly. Once again, you heard shuffling through the phone her sighs we slightly audible too. “Are you sleepy?” You asked after the other end went silent. It took a while to gain a response from her. “No, I can’t sleep, not yet” You laughed a bit at her words. Between the two of you, Ning was very clingy she held onto you like a lost puppy. You two were always together. She would even follow you to the bathroom sometimes. She loved being your little spoon, too, anytime you two cuddled. “You should sleep, love, I won’t be home till maybe around one in the morning” saying this caused you to frown. You really wanted to be in bed right now. Holding your favorite girl, planting sweet, soft kisses on her. But no, you just HAD to notice those emails. “I tried, I need you here, holding me. Your arms wrapped around me, I need you.” Hearing her voice, she sounded so needy, desperate. She really did need you, especially at this very moment.

“I miss you too. I can’t stand being away from you for this long. I haven’t kissed you in forever.” You whined out quietly. It really has been long, seeing as two of your coworkers have already left and headed home. “There’s a lot you haven’t done to me in a while …” the other side spoke, catching you off guard. You froze. Ruffling and strange movements were heard from your phone. It lasted a while, too. Coming to your senses, you finally connected a few dots “Like what baby” you asked in a mocking tone, smiling to yourself as well. “I think you know” her voice was husky, yet her words flew out smoothly. “Hmm I’m not sure. Maybe you could refresh my memory?” You teasingly asked her, your smiling becoming a bit bigger. “Fuck why can’t you just get here already ..” She let out a sharp sigh as she spoke. You giggled at her words, she really does miss you huh “So impatient baby, hmm I wonder what would I be greeted with if I were there right now.” You leaned back in your chair, you felt a bit cocky in this moment crossing your arms behind your head. “Your very needy, wet, horny and spread girlfriend that’s what” you could hear her soft sighs and whines through your headphones. It was a bit too quiet for your liking so you turned your volume up. “That’s a sight to see y’know, fuck I’d love to be there right now and ruin you. I bet that’s what you want huh, my fingers deep inside your aching pussy” a few moans were heard along with a few wet sounds from her fingering her pussy. “Your so disgusting, touching yourself at this hour, begging to be fucked senseless”

Giggling to yourself in the moment you check your surroundings, seeing nobody is paying you any mind you continue to focus in your desperate lover. “I bet you can’t wait for me to get home. Can’t wait for me to fucking ruin that pretty body of yours.” You bit your lip at the thought of it, sighing to yourself. Your girlfriends’ moans were getting louder, you heard a soft thud as your girlfriend placed her phone down beside her. “Fuck, I need you so bad right now!” Ning wasn’t really the time to vocalize her needs like this, she was quieter and let her body do most the talking when it came to sex between you two. Seeing this side if her changed something in you. You had to get this side out of her more often. “I can’t really hear you that well though baby, doesn’t sound like you miss me that much.” You tease her tilting your head placing your chin in your hands, staring at your computer screen. Imagining what she looks like right now. “You wanna hear how bad I need you, yea?” She took her phone in hand and turned her camera on. The camera facing the ceiling, before she slowly brought it down to her milky fingers going in and out of her drenched pussy. You could only stare at your screen, has she lost her mind ? This isn’t the same girl a few hours ago. This isn’t the same girl you gave breakfast in bed to earlier. Snapping you out of your thought, she moved her camera in all angles giving you the greatest views of her soaking wet body. “Fuck baby, see? See how bad I need you right now, you’re telling me work is more important than pleasing this?” her voice became higher in pitch the more she went on, bucking her hips into her hand. So desperate for more, so desperate for you.

The sound of her moans and the way her body moved into her hand was driving you crazy. That should be you. You should be the one pleasing her right now. Except you're stuck here watching your pretty girl work for her orgasm. Licking you’re lips at the sight, your hand slowly went down to your pants, unbutton them swiftly. Looking around the office for any wandering eyes. Your hands slipped down to your soaking panties circling your clit slowly. A soft sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes gently. Your motion on yourself fastening, closing your legs ever so slightly due to the feeling rushing inside you. “Baby ..” you whispered head falling down, biting your lip a little. Roughly enough to leave a mark. Moving from your panties you put your hand inside playing with your wet fold. Slowly teasing your entrance, moving your fingers in and out, but not the full length of them. Your girlfriends’ moans were louder than before the camera shaking, hips bucking up and down. Her tiny whines and quiet curses driving you nuts. “You close baby?” you asked working your fingers in yourself. “mhm …” She answered her voice whiney and needy. Flipping the camera she faced it to her exposed chest, cupping one breast and playing with her nipple. Of course taking her hand away from her heat upset her a bit, but she knew you loved seeing her touch herself. Just for you and nobody else. “So pretty baby, you look so good. Fuck I wish I was there to taste you” your words making her whine and bite her lip, putting her fingers back into her soaking wet pussy. “I wanna feel your tongue deep inside me, taste how good you make me feel.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, and honestly you didn’t care if anyone heard. Your too focused on the beautiful piece of art in front of you to care.

Your pace with your fingers quickened inside you, spreading your legs a little wider for easier access. Biting your lip to conceal your moans, you threw your head back against the head of your chair. Phone in one hand and the other in your pants. You could feel your climax reaching near. You could tell she was close too with the way her body was moving and how fast her hand had gotten. “You better cum baby, just for me, ruin those sheets” you gritted your teeth together and you felt closer and closer to the edge having forgotten all about your work, the time, and if the people around you were aware of your little situation. “Fuck baby I’m so close, I wanna cum in your mouth all over your face.” Her words sent you over the edge cumming all over your hands and in your pants. You wanted to close your eyes but you couldn’t look away from her perfect body and how it reacted to finally releasing all that built up tension in her code. She let out high pitched moans and cute whines as she came, not stopping after wetting her fingers she played with her clit a little more. The fast circles she was rubbing on herself made her squirt all over the bed her camera catching all of it. Her body squirmed at the pleasure and release. The call was almost quiet, all that could be heard was the heavy breaths your girlfriend was taking. Her small gasp and her little whimpers. You watched all this go down, finally growing tired of waiting you buttoned your pants up and packed your things to head out and head home to your girlfriend. “Fuck, hurry home, okay? I miss you” your girlfriend said before ending the call.

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[garciasgirl]

charms and trinkets | s.reid x reader

genre: I’ll let you guess (fluff)

content warnings: none!!

content: non bau!reader, reader works at a bookstore, reader and spencer are already in a relationship, awkward!reader, they are all cuties, penelope and reader have mutual obsessions, female reader (im sorry i was gonna try and make it gn i forgot :((()

a/n: this is for my lovely anon who requested it !! i hope you enjoy it i tried to make it as close to your request. yes i made reader and penelope obsessed with calico critters because i am.

Request: here!!

wc: 1.4k

you and spender met at the bookstore you work at, ten months ago. he had nervously rambled off a genius like fun fact about the author of the book you were checking out for him. and you had laughed, that’s what caught his attention. that, and, well obviously how radiant you were. the maybe five minutes he spent checking out at the bookstore were spent with his eyes trained on you, completely captivated.

soon after, spencer became a regular at the bookstore, for the selection of books or for you? he wasn’t sure, but regardless, he kept coming back. after those couple visits, checking out his books again, you wrote your number on the bottom of the receipt, handing it to him. in front of you, he was blushing and stuttering. but the spencer that called you that night? was confident, and you loved it.

now, eight months from then, you and spencer were in an extremely happy relationship. every case he came home from, especially the particularly hard ones, he would rush over to your apartment. grasping you into his arms and holding you on the couch for hours. you were all he ever thought about, and spencer, being some one who talked a lot, showed that. the team had heard countless rambles about how amazing you were. Yet none of them had ever met you. the team usually just listened, not pushing spencer on when they were going to meet this mysterious girlfriend. well, everyone except penelope.

every meet up between spencer and penelope in penelope’s lair, every call between them, penelope always asked when she was meeting you. why? because truthfully, she had never seen spencer so happy, and she wanted to thank you for making her best friend more positive than she has ever seen him.

and that’s what led to this conversation that you and spencer were having right now. you two were at spencer’s apartment, sitting on his couch. “i know your hesitant about meeting the team..” he started, his hand holding yours, his thumb gently rubbing the top of your hand. you shook your head, looking at him, “it’s not that I don’t want to meet them spence, but, what if they don’t like me?” he smiles at you softly, “love, they will, I promise.” his gentle eyes caressing over your face.

how could you say no to him? when he looked at you with such love and tenderness. But still, the anxiety that flowed through you hadn’t subsided, and spencer, being ever observant, noticed. he sighed softly, squeezing your hand. “how about this? you just meet penelope for now, maybe not being surrounded by my entire team will help.�� you took his words into consideration, you had heard a lot about penelope. and from the way spencer described her, you liked her already. “okay..yeah.” you said, “yeah?” spencer responded, a small grin playing on his lips.

spencer had made a call that night to penelope, arranging a meet between you three tomorrow, on his and penelope’s off day. penelope was ecstatic, you were anxious.

that night, spencer reassured you with comforting words. reminding you that if his awkward self loved penelope, you would to. that made you laugh, and honestly a little more comfortable.

the next day, a knock sounded on spencer’s apartment door. you had stressed cleaned his already clean apartment all morning. spencer came out, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head, before going to the door. you took a couple deep breaths, before following.

when spencer opened the door, you were greeted with a beautiful woman, adorned in a mixture of colors and patterns. penelope had a large smile on her face, that somehow widened when she saw you. she rushed in the apartment, “oh my gosh!! well, aren’t you pretty? how are you sweetheart, im penelope!!” her sweet voice rang in your ears, as she engulfed you in a big and sudden hug. you heard spencer chuckle softly in the distance, but you hugged her back.

penelope’s look and the small glimpse of her personality put you at ease almost instantly. the three of you made you way to spencer’s couch, all sitting down. spencer had his hand resting loosely on top of yours, and penelope sitting across from you two. “ive heard so much about you..!!” you started, looking at her. she smiled, shaking her hand dismissively, “darling I guarantee, I’ve heard more about you!! spence can’t stop talking about you.”

you blushed at her words, flustered with the idea that spencer talks about you to his coworkers. before you could even continue your flustered thoughts, a gasp sounded in the room, penelope gently grabbing the hand spencer wasn’t holding looking at your charm bracelet. “is that charm a calico critter?” she squeaked excitedly. you nodded quickly, “yes do you like them too!!” in which penelope gushed about how much she loved them. you had become immediately less shy when the common interest was of topic.

spencer was watching you lovingly as you talked quickly about the little trinkets the two of you loved so much. you and him were alike, always going on rants about the stuff that interested you. except he went on rants about scientific stuff that most people didn’t care much about, but of course, you cared.

watching his favorite person and closest coworker be so close and enjoy each others company, warmed his heart. the way your face lit up at anything that excited you, your voice growing higher and excitement shining through.

you had ran into spencer’s room where you kept a little collection of your favorite trinkets. spencer loved them, because they reminded him of you. you showed them to penelope, calico critters, sonny angels, and little cute things that the two girls adored. the three of you sat for a while, spencer occasionally butting in.

you picked out three calico critters that remind you of each person, a little deer one for penelope, a latte cat one for yourself, a silly giraffe one for spencer that made you and penelope burst out with laughter.

after a while, penelope had to leave, but not before exchanging numbers with you. when she left, you still had a giant smile on your face, one that spencer was so glad to see. you crashed into his arms, wrapping your own around him, “I like her a lot..” you mumbled into his chest. he laughed softly, you felt it rumble in his chest. “I knew you would, wasn’t so bad, was it?” he teased lightly, in return you shook you head.

“im really happy you like her, though. and im glad i can talk about you even more now that penelope has met you.” you pulled back, looking at him, “do you actually talk about me that much?” you asked.

spencer grinned, ruffling your hair playfully, “absolutely.” he confirmed. you whined jokingly in response. in which he grabbed your hand pulling you back into his living room. “cmon, we gotta clean up all these. they’re all over my couch..” he sighed dramatically. you hit him gently in the arm, “you’re lucky, look how cute!!!” you said, picking up a koala family of calico critters.

“yeah, cute..” he said, shamelessly staring directly at you instead of the trinkets. you rolled your eyes, not seeing him come closer to you, his hands resting gently on your hips. your own arms wrapping around his neck and bringing him closer. your lips catching in a gentle and loving kiss.

spencer pulls back, looking at you with a mock serious expression. “alright, now we really have to clean up, it looks like a toddler spread all of their toys around my apartment.” you made a considering face, the idea of a mini spencer running around a thought you enjoyed. spencer noticed, raising his eyebrows, “absolutely not.”

the rest of the night was spent picking up all the trinkets you and penelope had dropped, spencer falling asleep on the couch halfway through the cleaning session. you giggled quietly as you took a picture of him, curled up in a bright pink fluffy blanket, his curly hair a mess over his face, and sent it to penelope.

spencer may have made a mistake introducing you to penelope. he had unknowingly and unintentionally created a duo bound to causing immense amounts of trouble.

[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

[gingerteafairy]

woman's duty (ben x reader)

just ben being ben on an average family meeting

tags n warnings: grumpy!ben, drabble, wife!reader x husband!ben, softdom!ben, mentions of sex, bad language, misogyny, breeding kink. masterlist

The sun was shining brightly over your parents' backyard, the scent of barbecue filling the air as laughter and chatter mingled. Ben, ever the charmer, was deep in conversation with your dad—bonding over beer, old sports games, and their mutual grumbles about how “things were better in the old days.” It wasn’t long before he wandered back inside, finding you in the kitchen where you were tossing a salad while your mother busily set the table.

“Hey, sugarplum, when’s lunch gonna be ready? I’m starving,” he grumbled, sliding up behind you and planting a quick kiss on your cheek. His arms wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you against him.

You smirked, not missing a beat. “When you boys help us with something around here, lunch will magically be ready faster.”

He groaned dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “C'mon, it’s a woman’s duty,” he drawled, biting your shoulder playfully, knowing full well it would get a rise out of you.

You spun around, crossing your arms and glaring up at him. “How does a misogynist like you end up with a wife and kids? Like, really?”

Ben grinned, undeterred, and tugged you back into his embrace despite your mock indignation. “Simple,” he said, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “We only date if it’s worth it. Can’t risk ending up with some ‘new age girl’ who doesn’t know the good'old values. A man raises his voice one decibel these days and—boom! Jail.”

“Good you never raised your voice with me. Maybe you're not that dominant cause you fear your wife, huh?” You teased, raising your eyebrow playfully as you poked his chest.

“Nah, I keep all my care for my lovely scary wife,” he joked, chaste kissing your lips. “But the whores out there? Fuck, they wanna get spanked, shouted and take advantage of the good men of this country. We get the women we know it's worth to raise a family”

“You’re awful,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. He was grumpy, but never did or said something to hurt you, he was a cutie pie around the woman who stole his heart.

“And yet, here I am—your awful husband,” he teased, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Lucky f'me, you’re too kind and forgiving to hold my totally hilarious misogynistic jokes against me.”

“You’re lucky for me having a weird unnatural submission kink,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you. “Got all warmed up with you grumpy saying take off your clothes, woman. I'm gonna use you to get more babies.”

“I love you for that, so obedient,” he murmured, grinning as he kissed you again, his grumpiness fading away in the glow of your laughter. “think I wanna make babies now. Down your panties f'me, please, hm?”

“oh, you do?” You tease, biting your lip when he presses his pelvis against you, with his cock already pulsating. Groaning when you wiggled your lower body playfully on his forming tent.

“You’ the death of me, sugar. You and your fucking pretty ass.” He whispered disereful, biting your jaw as he squeezed your ass in his big calloused hands.

Your mother, now halfway through setting the table, cleared her throat loudly. “If you two are done flirting, maybe Ben can help carry the food out?”

“See?” you said smugly, shooting him a triumphant look. “Guess it’s not just a ‘woman’s duty’ after all.”

Ben groaned but grabbed a tray anyway, muttering about how the food better taste amazing. You just laughed, knowing full well he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 6 ✿:+ Free Fields

1-2-3-4-5-_-7

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: ALL SMUT MDNI, afab reader, virgin reader, P in V sex, oral sex (mutual), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up cuties), creampie, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence. 

A/N: I am posting early this week, giving the girls what they want in one long smut scene. Everyone say thank you Bambi. 

Word Count: 3467 

You had ridden most of the night, but once the daylight began to rise in the sky you felt sleep take you. Sandor tied Lika to Stranger and Sandor held you as he rode. You insisted you didn’t need the sleep but he insisted in the opposite direction. He’d ridden most of the day holding you against his chest, wrapped in his cloak. 

You’d woken up in the forest. The light that peaked through the gaps in the leaves of the trees above you began to shine in your eyes. A cold breeze traveled through them, waking you up even more. You looked to your side through half open eyes. You sat up quickly, realizing you were laying on the soft grass alone. You looked around and saw Sandor was watering the horses, and you were wrapped in his cloak. 

“‘M right here.” He said looking over his shoulder at you then back to the horses. 

You looked around and never felt so alone, there was no one for miles. But again you never felt so free. 

But you couldn’t help but feel somewhat awkward. You’d never been alone with Sandor like this. There was hardly any chance of anyone stumbling upon you, your time was not limited, and now everyone must have known. Known that he took you with him. 

You sat up and held your knees closer to your chest, you noticed how the red gown the Lannisters had made for you was already wearing thin, the fabrics tearing slightly. You ran your fingers over the ruined fabric over your knee. You noticed the pattern of the fabric was lions and roses. As your fingers ran over the lion's tail you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach. 

Tyrion. 

You didn’t love him, that was true. But you were fond of him. And maybe at some point if you were married you could have. He wasn’t like his family, and he tried, he really did try to make your cage a comfortable one. But he did not open that cage for you, he didn’t even seem to want to. Sandor did. 

Sandor looked over his shoulder at you again, noticing you examining the fabric. 

“You can’t wear that out ‘ere.” He said gruffly as he stood and walked towards Stranger. 

You looked confused, 

“Somebody comes along and see’s you in that bloody thing you know what they’ll do?” He asked, as if he was testing you. Wanting to know just how cruel you knew the world could be. 

“Something like those men during the riot did.”

“No.” He huffed while rummaging through the sattles bag “No one’ll ever touch you like that again.” He said pulling out some clothes and walking towards you, “But they’ll know who you are. Where the fuck you came from. Lannisters would find us faster.” 

“You don’t think they’ll know who you are?” You asked as he handed you the clothes, 

“You can change that fuckin’ dress but I can’t change my face now can I?”  He said in a gruff voice that you ignored as you looked at the clothes. There was a white cotton tunic, a thick gray wool sweater that was like a dress on you. a pair of tall black leather boots, a thick black leather belt with a satchel attached to it, and a pair of dark brown trousers that were too tight for you but would have to do. 

“where’d you get this?” You asked looking at the clothing,

“Stole it, while you were sleeping.” You looked up at him with a look of surprise “They didn’t want them, fucking left them outside.”

“Were they on a line?” He didn’t respond to you, just stared at you with guilty eyes, “They were hanging to dry. You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do what I have to, for you.” he whispered that last part, “You’re very kind. That’ll get you killed out here.” His voice was hardened and cold, “Change.” He said walking back to the horses by the river. 

You shrugged off his hardened words. running your fingers through your hair. You realized how dirty the journey had made it. Not to mention the dirt that had gathered on your hands, feet, and knees. 

Your eyes wandered towards the river, the water rushing looked inviting. You looked around, there was no one, at least for the next thirty miles. Then you looked back to sandor who was tending to the horses, he was strangely attentive and fond of the horses. It made you feel warm inside, seeing him be so gentle, after you’ve seen him kill and maim men for little reason. 

You stood, as you did you began to remove your gown, Sandor could hear the fabric of your gown being discarded. He pretended not to notice it as he kept his back turned.

Your gown fell around your feet as you stepped out of it, your underclothes with it. 

You walked towards the river, you dipped your foot in the cold water. It wasn’t like the warm baths in lavender oil that you were used to. But it was what you needed. The water was much deeper than you expected.

You plunged into the cold waters, let yourself stay under the water for a moment. The coldness of the water surrounded you, like it was holding you. It reminded you of the cold winds of the Eyrie. Before you could daydream even more you were pulled out of the water by your arm. 

You gasped for air as your head finally reached the surface. 

“Fuck are you doing, girl?” He barked at you, you pulled your arm away, 

“I was dirty.” You said with a smirk as you were catching your breath.

“Er clean now, out.” He said pulling your arm again but you pulled away and out of his grasp. He huffed, you noticed that he was still covered in blood, it was faded but it was still there. 

“You’re still all bloody.” You said and he tisked at you while he pulled on your arm again. “Stop it.” You said pulling your arm away before swimming closer towards him. “Come here.” You commanded softly. With a gruff sigh he gave in, kneeled towards you. You wiped the blood from his brow, his cheek, then his scarred cheek. When you touched it he winced a little. “Does it hurt?” You whispered, he shook his head. 

“Are you finished?” He rasped, you nodded. He stood and walked back and away from you. “Get out of there before a man comes along.” He rasped once again, as he sat by a small fire he’d built. No doubt with a great deal of courage, he mainly built it for you. 

So you did as he said, you climbed out of the water, you threw on your under clothes to cover your nakedness, though your body was still so wet the clothes became almost transparent. Sandor looked back at you while you rang out your hair. He’d seen you naked before, but this felt all the more intimate. The glamor had worn off, and you were reduced to skin and bone. Not a noble woman but a human. Your cheeks felt red and you looked away, but you felt his gaze linger. 

“Dress yourself.” He commanded in a growl “If a man comes,” 

“There's no one for miles.” You interrupted him, walking towards him, your hair still dripping wet. 

“Stubborn girl.” He growled as he drank water from a flask, pissed that it wasn’t wine. But you continued your steps towards him. You knelt by his side and began to undo the clasps of his armor. He grabbed your hand “Fuck are you doing?” 

“You’re covered in blood, your armor- it’s covered in blood.” You said but he didn’t let go of your hand “We can’t attract attention like you said. You being covered in blood would attract just that.” He let your hand go, and you continued. Undoing each clasp until he was left in his tunic and slacks. 

You sat by the river and washed each piece with your hands, taking small amounts of water and rubbing it onto the silver armor. Making sure not too much water touched it, you didn’t want to ruin the material. 

Sandor watched you as the sun began to set, it made him think about what he offered you in your room the night of the battle of Blackwater. He’d build you a home. And he would. He thought of you washing clothes in a river like what you were doing now. He thought of sharing a home with you, not a grand one like the Eyrie but a small home made of wood and stone. He thought for a moment of you carrying his babe. But he was not one for chivalry, tradition, or ceremonies. But he wasn’t one for love either but here he was. 

You walked back with his armor, the fire illuminated his face handsomely, you tried to put it back on him but he took it and placed it on the ground. His eyes softened strangely, but his face was still in that scowl he always had. He placed his hands on your hips and his eyes ran over your body. 

“If another man saw what I am looking at right now, I would kill him.” He grumbled. 

“How many men have you killed?” 

“Killed my first man when I was twelve. I lost count since then.” His voice was cold, and his eyes reached yours searching for any ounce of fear. Finding none. “I don’t frighten you?” He barked as if he was trying to frighten you, trying to get you to come to your senses. 

“Never.” You spoke softly, your soft words always gentled the rage within him. He felt so much for you he almost resented you for it.

He grabbed you by your jaw, “Have you ever made a man feel this way before?” He growled, 

“I don’t know.” You said, still not scared of him, you knew he’d never harm you. 

“I know you have. How could any man not? I know that Imp, he wanted you.” his voice was so low it rumbled in his chest. 

“I never felt love for him, nor lust.” You spoke softly, his grip on you loosened. 

“What of that pretty boy,” 

“Loras?”

“Aye.”

You let out a small giggle at the thought of Sandor being truly jealous of Loras, a man who couldn't love a woman. “Rumors of Loras are true. He did not like the touch of a woman.” 

“He was a cock sucker?”

“Stop that.”

“What, you love him do you?” His grip tightened once again but still not hurting you.

“Not the kind of love you mean.” 

“You said you promised someone you love to take the Eyrie. Who?” He growled, you knew that this was the only way he’d be able to tell you he loved you. By interrogating you on who you loved.

“My mother.” His grip loosened completely, “And my father.” His hand began to rest on your neck, “I promised my mother on her child bed, to keep her house safe, and her son safe. I failed at one I can’t fail both.” 

“Oaths and promises are for cunts.” 

“You’ve sworn a promise to me.” 

“Aye.” He said, his eyes scanning down your body once more. 

“What are you looking at?” 

“The fuck do you think I’m looking at.” He rasped as you noticed his hooded eyes lingering on your breasts, hardly covered by your soaking wet under clothes. You pulled the top half of your under clothes over your head. His eyes snapped to yours.  

“You’ve never been fucked by a man?” He rasped, he knew you hadn’t, he knew you’d already told him this, but he needed to be sure. You shook your head. “Never had a man's fingers in your cunt?” You shook your head again, “Never had a man’s tongue in your cunt?” He rasped, 

“Only yours,” You whispered. Those words only encourage his throbbing cock.

“You sure you want this?” He grumbled, his large rough hands going to your breasts. They were rough and almost hurt by how course they were. They were so large that they engulfed your breast completely. Your mind then turned back from that to the question he asked, 

“I am.” Your words are soft and sweet. 

“Lay back,” His voice dropped and rumbled in his chest, it made you clench your thighs together. You laid back as he asked you. You laid back on the green soft grass. As you did he pulled his tunic off and over his head. He loomed over you, his hands ran from your jaw, to your sternum, to your stomach, to your pelvis. He toyed with the fabric of your under clothes covering your sex. 

“You can’t take it back.” He rasped. You nodded, and you pulled your under clothes down and over your knees, he took them off from there. 

He positioned himself between your legs, and leaned down. He kissed you deeply. Sucking on your lips as if they tasted of wine. His rough hands roamed your body, they were so rough they almost scratched at your skin. You moaned into his mouth as his hand found its way to your cunt. 

His large middle finger began to play with your clit. His finger circled your clit a few times then teased your entrance, just a little, adding some pressure then going back to your clit. Your sweet moans only encourage his throbbing bulge in his trousers. 

Your hand gripped a chunk of his hair at the back of his head, deepening your kiss. Your other hand roamed his back, littered with scars. 

He kissed down from your jaw, to your neck, to your collar bones, your chest, breasts, nipples, stomach. He sucked and bit at your side making you jump a little and mewl. He continued on and kissed your pelvic mound. 

He lifted your legs up and over his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs and biting them gently. The feel of his beard scratched at your thighs. Your back arched at the feeling. 

Finally, replacing his fingers with his tongue. He licked at your sensitive clit, sucking on it, and biting on it lightly, enough to make you moan his name, which in turn made him moan into your cunt. The vibration of it made the sensation all the more pleasurable. 

At this point you were soaking wet, you heard lude sounds from him, a mix of growls and slurping. 

You gripped a handful of his hair again scratching at his scalp. 

His fingers returned to your cunts entrance, not fully entering it, just applied pressure teasing you horribly. 

He kissed your swollen clit and came up for air, He looked at your cunt, empty but clenching around nothing at all. It drove him mad, as he looked up at you, you looked down at him. “I’ll be gentle, but it’ll hurt.” He said with a low raspy voice. 

You nodded, “Please,” you whined. 

He kissed your inner thigh as his thick ring finger began to enter you. Your back arched and you let out a groan as you threw your head back. It burned a little, and the pressure was uncomfortable, and yet felt so good. His finger continued inside of you, and his eyes watched you making sure you didn’t want it to stop. Then you felt him hit something, it made you wince. He stopped, 

“Take a deep breath, little bird.” He said oddly gently. He sucked on your clit as he continued and you felt a snap inside of you, it hurt, 

“Nmph!” You groaned, let out a sharp breath. 

“It’s alright now, it’ll feel better now.” He said moaning into your cunt. 

And he was right, the pain and the burn stopped, and was replaced by pleasure. You moaned as his finger pumped in you over and over again. He added another finger as he sucked on your breasts. You held his head and kissed the top of it whilst he did so. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and sat up on his knees. You sat up as well. 

Your eyes looked at his fingers, covered in your slick mixed with blood. Your cheeks lit up red with embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, little bird. I fuckin' love it, you've got no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do this to ye.” He comforted you, you weren’t used to it. You tried to ignore your embarrassment and focus on what you wanted. You started to undo his trousers, he didn’t stop you this time. You pulled his trousers down with some resistance from his large cock. Once you got them down his cock bounced up, standing straight. You looked up at him waiting for any resistance, met with none once again. 

You took his cock in your hand, it made your hand look so small in comparison. He let out a deep groan, which only encouraged you more. You kissed the side of his cock, and kissed your way to the tip. You licked at the precum that was seeping from his tip. 

It was salty and bitter but you couldn’t get enough. However, that was his last straw. He pushed you back onto the soft grass and pulled your legs around his waist. He kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue as you tasted yourself on his. 

He lined himself up with your soft, warm, and soaking wet entrance. He slowly pushed his way inside of you. You both let out a loud moan, but you tried to cover your mouth, not wanting to risk others in these forests hearing you. Sandor wouldn’t have that though. He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from your mouth, 

“Don’t you fucking dare. I want to hear all of it.” He growled at you, “I’ve waited too long to hear it.”

“What if someone hears?” You tried to say without moaning but failing miserably 

“I’ll strangle them with their own guts.” He said like an angry dog, “I’m the only one who can see you like this, hear you like this.” 

He pushed further and further into you until he hit your spongy cervix, making you almost scream out in pleasure. Sandor gritted his teeth and he shouted “Gods!... (Y/N), you feel so fucking good!” as he slammed his lips onto yours kissing you with a hunger you’d never known. He let himself warm inside you for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch. 

All the things you’d heard about sex finally made sense. The pleasure of it, and the pain of it. But you never knew how fulfilling it could feel. How the satisfaction would feel within you. You hadn’t even cum yet but you were a woman happy nonetheless. 

He began to move again, in and out of you pumping. You gripped the grass at the sides of your head. As he pumped in you your breasts bounced, his eyes couldn’t stop but admire your body. Every inch of it unique to you and you alone. All those whores he paid who looked like you weren’t like this. They didn’t feel as good as you did, they didn’t fit around him the way you did. 

“I’m not ‘urting you am I?” He asked through gritted teeth, you shook your head as you moaned loudly, “Good.” He said as he pumped harder and faster. He leaned down more and ravaged your breasts, you knew there would be marks on them tomorrow. His hands gripped at your hips so tightly you knew there would be marks there as well. 

“Take it, take it, take it, take it-” He grumbled into your neck over and over again. 

You felt the pressure in your belly tighten, you knew you were going to cum. “I feel ya’ tightening around my cock, do it, cum around my cock.” He said into your ear as he nibbled at your lobe, then moving to bite at your jaw. 

“Fuck!” You moaned loudly, “Sandor!” You yelped as you felt yourself cumming all over him. 

His arm wrapped around your waist tightly pulling you up and close to this chest. While his other hand held your jaw in place, having you look him in the eyes. 

“Cum in me,” You pleaded breathlessly, his eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that you’d ever want him to do such a thing. It pushed him over the edge and he didn’t have time to question if it was truly what you wanted as he melted into you.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted as you felt the hot ribbons of cum filling you deep inside of you. His grunts were like war screams, as if he were impaling a man with a sword. In a way he was. It out of nowhere made you cum again, pushing some of his cum out of your cunt, overflowing around his cock still in you. 

As he collapsed beside you, and you both laid there naked covered in sweat in the cold air. You tried to catch your breath. 

“(Y/N)” He said in a husky growl you could hear the rumble of his tone, you turned to look at him. “I would die for you.” 

NOTE:

Hi girlies. I made this with the intention of making it just one scene in a multiple scene chapter but it was already so long and we have a lot more to get to so enjoy this little freebie. 

Also I am working on a new series, might take a min tho so I am not going to announce who it is about but it is also GOT related.

Also also double points for anyone who caught the Laufey lyrics

My Beloveds: If you want to be added to the tag list comment telling me so!

@dontfollowjuststuff @helpmeescapethisreality @merfic

[kittyhui]

“we should stop” trope with cheol

no smut, just suggestive MDNI

content tags: mutual friends to lovers (???sorta), cheol is a smoker (dont smoke..), reader is introverted, mentioned alcohol use, making out, being a bit freaky outside, cheol is hot

meeting your friends’ friends always had your introverted head reeling. “do i have to go?” you whine to jeonghan, one of your closest friends.

“no but you really should leave the house, y/n” he laughs. he was right. it was only a small get together at joshua’s (your other friend) apartment, it would only be a few other people, “you’ve met most of them anyways. plus you can stay with me and kyeomie as long as you want” he smiles at you as you finally agree to coming along.

…

surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you had thought. even though it was getting tiring dokyeom pulling you to meet all the people you haven’t been introduced to before, it was manageable.

“oh! i almost forgot” dokyeom says, looking at you, “you need to meet, cheol” he grabs your arm again, walking you over to another person youve never seen before. “coupsie!”

you watch as the man dokyeom calls for turns around, red hair looking like fire around his head, arms looking oh so delicious in the black shirt he was wearing, and his lips; god his lips, looking cherry red like he had just bitten them so hard they bled. he looked so intimidating with a scowl on his face, until he looks at kyeom and pouts.

“i told you to stop calling me thatttt” he sulks, lip jutting out. he finally seems to notice your presence, raising his thick brow before speaking again, “is this your friend you were talking about?”

“im sorryyy, the name is so cute, cheol. but yea! this is y/n!” dokyeom introduces, your face heating up with nervousness at the redhead staring down at you.

“hi. nice to me you…” you murmur, extending your hand for a handshake. what you didn’t expect is for him to take it and pull you a little closer to him.

“sorry” he laughs, “what did you say.. its too loud in here” you repeat yourself, stuttering over your words, before he finally pulls away, hearing the complains from dokyeom about cheol ‘teasing his friend’. “I’m seungcheol by the way. most of my friends just call me cheol tho. i prefer that.” you smile again before dokyeom pulls you away again to meet someone else.

….

the rest of the night went by smoothly, and now you finally had the chance to slip away from all the noise and step outside for a breather after having a bit too much to drink. the summer breeze felt refreshing compared to the heat coming from the apartment you were just in and you could finally take a deep breath in, admiring the night sky.

“too many people in there for your tastes?” you jump at the sudden voice, turning to see the red haired man from earlier, “sorry! i didn’t mean to startle you. it’s too many people in there for me too, if that makes you feel better” he smiles at you, before turning back to face the sky, putting a lit cigarette to his lips and inhaling the smoke.

“you know thats bad for you, right?” you say, backtracking when you see his eyes widen and him beginning to burn it out, “no its fine! i dont mind.. sorry im bad at small talk” you look down at your fingers, playing with them, still feeling his eyes on you.

“you’re cute.” he laughs. he takes another inhale from the cigarette before sitting on the steps of the apartment building. “sit with me” he pats the concrete next to him, signaling you to come.

as you sit close to him, you can smell the mix of smoke and his cologne on his clothes, the scent of them seemingly driving you insane, the alcohol running through your body making you scoot even closer into him, as if to try and smother yourself in the fragrance. “you smell really good” you say without thinking, immediately burning hot in embarrassment at the reality of what you just said. he turns to you, laughing loudly.

“thank you, cutie.” he smiles, looking into your eyes, “and you look very pretty. thought that since dokyeom introduced me to you. was trying to get you alone but hannie was protecting you like a mama bear.” you laugh before his words sink into your brain.

“what- what did you want to do when you got me alone?” you question, eyes looking him up and down. you were beyond close to each other at this point, you had practically one leg draped over his thigh, and you could feel his hand on it, steadying you a bit.

“you know what i wanted to do.” he says, eyes shifting towards your lips before looking back into your own, “i can still do it now.. if you’d like.” you only murmur a faint ‘yea’ and his lips touch yours, hands cradling your head, pressing you closer and closer together.

your mind sobers up a bit, realizing that you were currently outside, in front of your friends house, kissing a guy you met barely an hour ago. “we. should. stop.” you breathe out inbetween kisses. you know you don’t want to stop but your left brain was screaming at you to think logically.

“we- can. stop. if you want” cheol slurs out, lips kissing the corner of yours, a smirk resting on them. the moment you shake your head, he pulls you onto his lap fully, having you straddle his thighs. “you’re so pretty..” he sighs out, lips gliding down your neck, sucking a few times, leaving marks in their wake. your hands rest in his fiery locks, combing your fingers through them every so often as he pulls whines out of your mouth.

“cheolie…” you sigh out, grinding lightly on his thigh, testing the waters. he groans at the sight, pulling you in for another kiss before- ring ring ringgg

“fuck-“ he groans looking down at his phone now long abandoned along with his burnt out cigarette you didnt even realize was gone, “its shua. hold on, pretty. yea. uhhuh? oh. oh okay- okay bye.” you try to listen in but your attempts were futile. he hangs up the calls, lowering his phone and putting his hands on your waist. “‘m sorry, pretty. soonyoung is currently um- puking his guts out in a bedroom.. i’ll spare the details, but i have to help shua clean the mess.” he sighs, looking at you with guilty eyes.

you look at him a bit disappointed but nod, slipping off his lap. “its fine, cheol. go deal with that.” you smile and he smiles back before kissing your lips wetly once again.

“give me your number first. just incase i don’t see you before you leave.” he shyly speaks again, opening his phone again for you to type in your number.

“alright, here” you say, finishing up your contact information. “text me whenever.. now go! there’s vomit for you to clean” you giggle as he stands up and rushes inside again.

finally standing up again yourself, your legs feel like jelly as you walk into the apartment again, spotting jeonghan and dokyeom on the couch. “hey” you say as you sit down next to them.

“oh my lord, we were wondering where you were.” jeonghan say before looking at your state and gasping, “you look a mess? who were you with??” dokyeom laughs as your face heats up again.

“n-no one..” you splutter, biting your lip remembering the man you were just with. they roll their eyes at you, whining at the lack of details you were spilling as a ping comes from your phone.

Unknown Number

Hey. This is Seungcheol.

Want a ride home?

you can hear your friends gasp, obviously reading your messages at the same time.

You

yea :) would love that <3

you send your response and jeonghan nudges you teasingly, “seriously, choi seungcheol? that loser??” all you do is smile dumbly, excited to see him once more.

[purplecoffee13]

Been in a nerdy H mood so maybe he’s got a crush on his co worker who is the complete opposite of him on the outside yet they both have so much in common! He’s not necessarily “smooth” but the reader finds it charming and sweet.

Ah yes, love me a nerdy Harry! Here you have it! I think it turned out cute, but I hope you like it as well!!

Wc: 1.7k

Warnings: none, just Harry being an awkward cutie!

It was a Monday morning. A dull prospect for anyone with an office job, but Harry found himself to be quite excited at the idea of strolling into the office this morning.

His big fat crush on one of his co-workers, Y/N, was the main instigator of that cheeriness that he brought into the office, along with a box of doughnuts for his fellow colleagues. And yes, it may also have been a ploy to talk to Y/N.

Harry wasn't the best at communicating. No, scratch that. Harry could be great at communicating... business plans. Feelings, however? Nope. Big disaster.

There were strings in his brain he'd need to pull to hold a good flirty conversation but they seemed to be just out of reach for him, which was quite unfortunate because it's not like he had his looks working against him.

Harry knew he wasn't ugly. Plenty of times, very beautiful women had come up to him. He often times was surprised with the beauty of these women approaching him. His mates always called him the 'most handsome one', and he did work out a lot to keep himself healthy. So yes, he could say he was well groomed.

And he'd hook up regularly. With women he'd meet at a crowded bar or a dark night club. Interactions that required little talking is where he strived. He got the standard dirty talk down, and since his confidence always skyrocketed in that department, it was the only kind of conversation he could hold. Then again, that might also be because the women he'll talk to are too fucked out of their mind to say anything.

Long story short, Harry was great, until he liked someone. So, instead of being able to come up with some witty comment to kickstart a conversation, he was now walking up to his work crush with a chocolate glazed donut.

Y/N was hunched over her work, tapping her pen against the paperwork that she seemed to be completely entranced by. Harry stopped right next to her, and was suddenly filled with a terror that made him want to crawl back into the hole he came from.

He didn't get the chance to do that, though, as Y/N looked up and met his eyes just as he decided he was going to turn back around. She smiled at the sight of him.

"Hi." She greeted with her soft voice.

"Hey." Harry breathed, his heart racing like maniac, and forgetting why he was here again until he spotted the donut in his hand. Right.

“I brought you a donut.” He stated, reaching it out to her. Her eyes fell to the food in his hand, and she chuckled as she took it from him.

“Thanks.” She said as she put it on her desk before looking back up at Harry, waiting for him to say something else.

Something else… what the fuck should he say?!

“Uh— well, I brought them for the entire office. But everyone’s grabbing at them so I figured I’d bring you one before they… ran out.” His ramble slowed down near the end of the sentence, only now realizing how stupid he was sounding. He was to kick himself in the head! Maybe it’d knock some conversational skills into him, jeez.

“Thanks Harry, I appreciate it.” Y/N tilted her head slightly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck, how could she possibly look so hot and sweet at the same time?

“N— no problem… so I, uh I should probably—”

“Hey, did you end up watching that mini series I recommended?”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to keep the conversation going for so long.

“Uh, yes actually.” He responded.

Y/N and Harry, despite it not seeming that way, had a shitload in common. They both loved the same books, movies and series. They were both obsessed with murder documentaries and they had a mutual fascination with women in jazz.

So when Y/N recommended this crazy documentary series about the Night Stalker last week, Harry immediately watched it when he got home. He stayed up until one to binge it entirely and was groggy the entire following day. But it was worth it.

In fact, every thing Y/N would rave about, he’d check out. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to understand her better, and since he didn’t know how to— well, you know, TALK to her, he took this weird route.

Y/N gasped happily. “Did you like it?!”

“It was horrifying.” Harry stated. “I loved it.”

Y/N’s face broke out into a wide smile, and she leaned over her desk to grab her phone before she got up to stand next to Harry.

“Oh, I also found this weird documentary about the titanic on YouTube. The quality isn’t very good, it’s like very old, but I’ve been wanting to watch it for ages and I couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s so interesting! They like— act it out and everything.”

Harry just stared at the excited woman next to him as she typed in all kinds of things on her phone. He only took his eyes off her when she showed the video.

“You should send it to me.” Harry said, already fascinated with the first 20 seconds she was showing him. He leaned in further, his body grazing against hers. When he felt her gaze on him, his cheeks turned pink. “Uh, via work-email, if you want—”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Or you could give me your number.”

Harry was sure he could’ve fainted. Oh my god, oh my god. He was properly freaking out, well, internally.

“Right, yes.” He said, sounding a bit absent from how shocked he was about her asking him his number. When he realized he must’ve not sounded too enthusiastic about it, he suddenly began reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Yes! Uhm, wait, let me unlock it.”

Y/N looked eager as he typed in his password, went to his contact app and handed the phone to her. She giggled as she typed in her number before giving the phone back.

“You’ll have to text me first.” She said, and he nodded, immediately going to the chat and sending a ‘hey’. He let himself sigh in relief at how good this was going for the short second her phone dinged and she was concentrated on putting Harry in her contacts. That went away the second Y/N pointed the camera of her phone to him.

“What are you doing?” Harry laughed nervously.

“Giving you a contact photo.”

“And you want to do that now?”

“No time like the present.” She peered from behind her phone. “Now, smile!”

Harry smiled, at her ridiculousness that was, but he smiled nonetheless. Y/N let out a happy squeal as she turned the phone around and showed the picture to Harry. He grinned at the picture, but inside he was freaking out a bit. Jesus, did he really look at her like that? She was going to figure out he was crushing on her if he kept staring at her like that. Stupid fool! Did he have to be so obvious.

“Beautiful.” She said so lowly it was almost a whisper as she put in the contact photo. Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t fucking handle this anymore.

“Y/N.” He piped up before he could lose his nerve. Y/N hummed, looking up at her. “Would you like to go on a—”

“Styles! Stop chitchatting and get in here! The meeting is starting in three minutes!” Timmy, his co-worker cut off the question that Harry had been dying to ask for the past months.

“Shit. I have to go. Uh, have a good— I mean… erm, enjoy the donut.” He said and turned on his heels, racing to the meeting room. He was shouting profanities at himself in his mind. Fucking hell.

Enjoy your donut? Fool!

That was the only word he could think of that matched his personality well enough during the entire meeting. He didn’t catch any of what was said, but mindlessly nodded along anyway.

He sighed when he finally got back to his office and sat down in his chair. He whipped out his phone to put it on his desk, and his eyes flew to two unread messages from a number he hadn’t seen before. He unlocked his phone, and his stomach clenched at the sight of the messages.

Unknown Number

“Hi!”

“This is Y/N, by the way.”

Harry smiled, looking through his window to Y/N’s desk. It was how he noticed her in the first place. When she began working here, she was placed at that desk and Harry had received the luxury of being able to look at her beautiful face as many times a day as he wanted.

Harry

“Right, put you in my contacts.”

Harry wrote back, and suddenly felt a flash of boldness washing over him. Texting was easier, it wasn’t half as nerve wracking as standing in front of Y/N. He could think of his answers properly before saying them.

Harry

“I’m only missing a contact photo, though.”

A few minutes went by, and Harry was done starting up his laptop when his phone screen lit up again. He clicked on the message, and was met with a picture of Y/N.

It was a selfie of her with the donut he brought her this morning. She had placed the donut in front of her mouth, showing off her breathtaking eyes.

Y/N

“Will this one do?”

Fuck yes it did.

Harry

“It’s approved.”

He peered over at Y/N’s desk and noticed her smiling as she texted something back. His stomach fluttered. He was all giddy over this.

Y/N

“I have some bad news for you though.”

Harry looked up at Y/N again, frowning. When their eyes met, he noticed that she still had that playful grin on her face, which broke out in a mischievous laugh before she began typing again.

Y/N

“I’ve decided to revoke your access to the Titanic documentary.”

Harry bit his lip, excitement coursing through his veins.

Harry

“Now that’s just brutal. How am I supposed to watch it, then?”

Y/N

“How about Friday night, at my place? :)”

Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he read the text. It knocked the wind out of him, and he had to remind himself how to breathe before even thinking of a response because he’d forgotten how to do it for a second.

He was so excited he could jump through a roof.

Harry

“That sounds like a very good solution :)”

If anyone is truly interested in that Titanic documentary, here ya go.

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad's best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can't help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, dad's best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, female masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, getting caught in the act, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/ affectionate names, age gap (reader is 24, Toji is in his 30s), Toji calls reader (doll, slut, bitch, etc.), big dick! Toji.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Notes: hi again cuties!! I hope you’re enjoying it so far, I am loving it tbh! please enjoy the filthy smut in this chapter❤️‍🔥🗣️🫶. Lemme know what ya think! pt. 4 may take a minute but trust I gotchu covered. enjoy!!

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stilled your movements, hoping he didn’t notice what you were doing. You quickly close out of the app and pull the blanket up to cover whatever shred of dignity you had left.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” You blurt out. You attempt a laugh to play it off, but it comes out as a nervous sounding chuckle if anything. Your dad and the rest of the boys were supposed to be out all day, you thought. Your phone said it was only 4:30, yet here Toji stood in your room with a look on his face that you’ll never forget.

His expression was dark and his pupils were blown. You would have thought he had taken some sort of drug, had you not seen his gaze go directly towards your tits.

“I should be askin’ you the same thing, sweet girl. I’ve got work in a few hours so I had to come back early.” He says with a smirk. He takes a step into your room and shuts the door behind him. The package was discarded on your dresser. He traipses towards you, never taking his eyes off of you. “But imagine my surprise when I come down the hallway to hear you saying ‘mm, y-yeah, just like that Mr. Fushiguro’. Then better yet, I open the door to see your poor attempt at pleasing yourself. I mean can you even call it masturbating at that point?” Toji is now sitting on the edge of your bed, with his arm supporting his weight behind him. His muscles are nearly ripping the sleeves of his shirt as he balls up the blanket in his fist.

“W-What are you talking about? I was ju-“, you feign innocence hoping that god will hear your lies and smite you to save you from the embarrassment that is this moment.

“Cut the shit, doll. You think I have to see what you’re doing to know what you’re doing? It’s painted all over that pretty face of yours. You look like you’ve been going at it for hours. Your lips are all swollen and your face is red. Let’s be fucking real, sweetheart” he inches closer to you, knowing you have no where to hide. He’s now sitting back on his legs, awaiting your response with hungry eyes.

“I-okay, fine. I was… touching myself or whatever. But I wasn’t ‘going at it for hours’! I’ve been really stressed with school, and I thought I had the house to myself today. Plus I smoked and that always makes it feel better so I figured I-“

“That’s enough. You don’t have to make up any more excuses. I know it was because of last night. Why would you be in here whining my name if it wasn’t, huh?”

There he goes again, making your face feel as if it’s on fire. If you could die in a hole and never be seen again, you would gladly take the chance with a smile on your face. There was no way you could get out of this one.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? A few minutes ago I could hear you as soon as I walked through the front door. Did I embarrass you or something?”

Truth be told, he did, but given his cocky attitude, you knew you couldn’t let on. “pfft- I’m not embarrassed,” you bluff, “everybody does it. B-But nobody likes being caught in the act so to speak.”

He smiles almost ear to ear. Did you really think he was stupid? From your shaky voice to the blush rising up your face, he knew you were bullshitting. “I mean some people might like getting caught. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to. You could have at least locked the fucking door.”

Shit, he was right. I mean, to be fair, you knew no one was home. But locking the door would have taken two fucking seconds! Were you so pent up that you couldn’t take any extra precautions?

“I-I guess I thought no one would be home for a while. I’m really sorry Mr. Fushiguro, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Your headphones had been out for a bit at this point, so you aren’t mistaken when you hear Toji laugh at you. Like full-blown, hearty, laughter. He regains his composure, and he is suddenly much closer than you think you can handle. At this point, you can smell his musk from being outside all morning, and the scent makes your legs feel weak.

“That’s precious, but just call me Toji, yeah?”

You nod feverishly awaiting his next words.

“Doll, the only one here that’s uncomfortable is you. I’m just fine. Like you said, everybody does it.” He’s now sitting directly in front of you, with eyes that are drilling holes into your skin. You feel like prey in his eyes and you’re not sure if being scared is an appropriate response.

He adds, with a grin, “how about I show you how I do it?”

————————————————————————

Did you hear him correctly? Show you how he… how he masturbates? At this point, you’re starting to think your weed was laced. There is no way this man that oozes sex appeal is offering to touch himself. In front of you. You take a few breaths to ground yourself and try to think of anything that you could say back to that.

“H-how you do what, Toji?”

Regrettably, you let your eyes travel down the man before you. He was wearing the same black compression shirt from the night before, along with a pair of loose, gray sweatpants. My god was he big. He didn’t even look fully hard, and yet, it was about to bust the seam of his sweats. You could even see a wet patch forming at the tip of his cock if you squinted. You felt your mouth watering at the sight. You thought about how big he would feel in your tiny hands, how it would feel down your throat. How he would tell you how to take him best since you weren’t the most experienced. You blinked a few times before you gained the courage to refocus your attention on his face.

“Don’t play dumb with me little girl. Lemme’ show you how I make myself feel good, and you can do the same for me.”

At this point, he was crawling towards you. You had no choice but to lie down underneath him, retreating into your mattress as best you could. He was now hovering over you, eyes peering into yours. You had no where to run.

He continues, “and then when we’re done, we can use everything we learned on each other. How does that sound huh, sweet girl? I know you’re real smart so this shouldn’t be hard for you at all.” He brings his hand up to play with the thin strap of your bikini top. He slowly slides the strap over your shoulder, and plants a wet kiss where it once resided.

You shiver in response, ultimately petrified as to what will happen next. You were excited, sure, but Toji didn’t know you were a virgin. You didn’t want to disappoint him with your lackluster skills. On top of that, you weren’t even sure if you could take an average sized dick, let alone a monster like Toji’s.

“Don’t get quiet on me now, woman. You were begging to be fucked like a slut just a minute ago. Use your words.” He lowers himself so he can whisper what you’ve been wanting to hear since last night, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll fucking give it to you”

“T-Toji, I can’t, it’s s-so embarrassing. I don’t know if we should.”

“Look, doll, we already know what’s going to happen. Besides, you’re the one in here wearing next to nothing while you play with your sweet pussy. All you have to do is ask, girl”

There’s no turning back now. A little heavy petting and making out won’t hurt anyone, right?

“You, Toji. I-I want you.”

“Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.” He says as he peppers sloppy kisses on your collarbone. He sucks and nips at the skin on your neck, making you writhe underneath him. He adores watching you come undone for him.

“Please, pretty please, I want you. I need you, Toji.” You couldn’t believe you were saying this out loud. Yeah, you’ve been wanting, no, dreaming for this to happen. But why are you begging him like he’s the last man on earth?

“Oh it’s a need, not a want huh? Guess I better fucking give it to you then, right? Wouldn’t want to deprive your filthy cunt anymore than she already has been.”

You whimper as his vulgar words fill your ears. You knew Toji had a foul mouth, but you had no clue to what extent. The way he was talking now had you scared for what’s to come. You felt red hot whenever he touched you, and you couldn’t help but moan when he was licking stripes up your ear and telling you to sit up for him.

He throws the blanket off the bed as he helps you sit up against your pillow. He pushed you up against the headboard as his lips crash into yours. You whine into the kiss and he plunges his tongue into your mouth. You nearly lose it when he bites your bottom lip and sucks on it, easing the pain. You can taste the alcohol on his breath, and he can smell the weed all over you. He’s pulling away all too soon as he sits back at the end of the bed.

“Now I want you to be a good girl and do everything I say, ya’hear? I would hate if your daddy found out that you were smoking today, ya’know, since he’s a cop and all. We can keep this between us and he won’t hear a thing, okay doll?”

You furiously nod your head in agreement. Your dad would make your life a living hell if he knew you smoked. Plus, even without the threat on the table, you were anxious to see what Toji would do with you next.

“I already told you to use your words once. Don’t make me say it again.”

“S-sorry, Toji. I won’t tell anyone I promise.”

“That’s what I thought. Come sit on my lap, pretty girl.”

As if you were under his spell, you shift your way towards the end of the bed and do as you’re told. You can immediately feel how hard he is underneath you. It doesn’t help that the material of these bottoms are paper thin. You swear you can feel his member throb and if you weren’t wet enough before this, you definitely were now. You were just about to rut your hips forward to help relieve the ache between your thighs.

Until Toji pushes you back so you’re sitting on his big thighs, legs spread impossibly far. His thighs were so toned and big, and it didn’t help that he had his legs crossed. It was all you could do to not fall into his chest searching for your balance.

“Gimme some room, brat. You’re not gonna learn how to make me feel good if you can’t see this dick now will you?”

You nod in anticipation and you anxiously await his next move. He palms himself over his sweats and you can’t help but whimper. He tosses his head back and groans, gripping on his leaking tip while he bites his bottom lip. He’d never let you know it, but he could have cum just from you sitting on his lap like that. Your big ‘fuck me’ eyes staring back at him as you grind all over his throbbing cock. Your sweet clit getting hit in all the right spots while you soak his pants. He knew he’d have to edge himself before he had his way with you or else he might cum before you even take your bikini off.

You watched Toji grunt in satisfaction as he rubbed the tip of his cock through his sweats. Your face grew a shade darker as he bit his lip and whined your name. You couldn’t help but look away as it felt too sinful to look upon someone so lustfully.

Wait, did he just.. whine? For you? Surely you were hearing things. You couldn’t have, though, right? It was clear as day:

“Fuck, y/n. Look s-sooo… pretty f’me, baby”

A smirk forms across your face as you realize he’s just as needy as you are right now. And did he just call you baby? This was getting too good. At this moment, you felt like you had regained some semblance of your confidence back. That was, until he was quick to rebuke your cute little smirk with his downright pornographic words.

“Watcha’ smiling for, huh? Think it’s funny that you’ve got me so hot for you I bet, heh.” He chuckles at you, “You’re lucky I didn’t just make you suck this cock so I could blow my load down your throat and be done with you, slut.”

A moan escapes your lips as you bite your bottom lip, trying to maintain any sense of composure you had left. It was disconcerting how quickly he took that little shred of confidence and flipped it on a dime. All the while, he’s still stroking himself through his sweats and you see a small bead of sweat form at his temple (should you lick it off?) As you look down at what was once a small stain on the outside of his pants, you see the wet patch has grown much larger. It was more than enough to show that he was desperate for stimulation, just as you were.

You felt yourself cringe at how exposed you felt as you straddle him. He looks up at you with dark, hooded eyes. Some of his hair is starting to stick to his forehead, (since when was it this fucking hot in the house???) and he looks so domineering, in spite of the fact that he was underneath you. You stifle another moan as you look down at your hands, trying to break eye contact before you explode.

“Don’t be shy, baby doll. Look at how hard ya’ got me, yeah?”

He finally grabs the waistband of his sweats, dragging them slowly off of his length. To your (non)surprise, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock springs forward onto his clothed stomach with a loud smack. He was even bigger than you thought. He was so hard it looked painful, almost. His tip was red and weeping precum, and his dick twitched as you gasped. It was so veiny and girthy. I mean it had to be at least ten inches. There was no fucking way that was going to fit.

He hisses at the cool air. He had to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from painting your stomach white. You looked so hungry for him as you gasped, and the sight was enough to send Toji reeling.

“When I came in here and saw you in that slutty little swimsuit, it took everything in me not to take these bottoms off and fuck you right there.” He says as he runs a hand under your bikini bottoms, grabbing your ass so hard you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise.

His words make your pussy hot, and you can’t help but grind into nothing. Toji wouldn’t let you sit on just one of thighs, no. He wanted you straddling both of them, pussy spread out right in front of his cock, but without any contact so you couldn’t get any sort of friction where you needed it the most.

“Aw,” he coos, “I bet you would like that huh, baby? I’m sure those guys back at uni never made you finish. Is that right?”

You scramble to say something believable. No guys at school had made you finish but they also never got the chance to. When it came to your sexual experiences, you were more of a giver.

“Uh, I-I mean, I guess technically not, but it-“

“Oh wait, don’t tell me. Is today my lucky fucking day?”

Fuck. You couldn’t help but hide behind your hands. It didn’t help that he slowly started to work his hand up and down his length. He let out a throaty groan as his thumb ran over his slit, gathering the excessive precum and using it to tease his cock head.

“What do you mean, t-toji?”

“You’re a virgin, aren’t ya’, y/n?”

The only sounds that could be heard were your heavy breathing and the sounds of his dick being stroked ever so slowly. There was no point in lying now. He could read you like a book.

“Y-yeah, I am. I’ve just been so busy with school, and like, I-I’ve done stuff before it just never got to the point where-“

“I knew it. Shh, it’s okay baby doll. You just wanted to save that pretty cunt for a real fucking man, right? You knew those college boys could never give some proper dick.” You can’t help the grin that grows across your face, because he honestly wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t worry. Toji’s gonna take real good care of you. Why don’t you spit on it f’me, huh doll?”

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking nasty. You’re sitting in this man’s lap, ogling him as he pleases himself. He was moaning now, going at a steady pace as he kept his eyes planted on you. You gathered as much spit as you can before you hovered over his cock, letting it dangle out of your mouth before it completely covers the tip.

“That’s it, good fucking girl. You’re doing so good f’me already.”

You watch as he takes your spit and uses it to slide all the way down his length. The sounds he was making were downright evil, and your pussy was aching with want. You wanted his fingers inside you so bad, but he was currently occupied. He was big enough that even three hands wouldn’t cover all of him, so he was going at it with both hands now.

As if he could read your mind, he spits out, “touch yourself for me, doll. Show me what you were doin’ before I interrupted, hmm?”

He had to be joking. You were already embarrassed enough after he caught you in the act, but now he wants you to reenact it? You were desperate for anything at this point, but couldn’t he just do it for you?

“But, t-toji-“ you whine.

“Don’t but me. I know you want to sweetheart. Now don’t make me ask again.”

You don’t even respond, instead reaching your hand down and to start rubbing little circles on the outside of your bikini bottoms. You let a moan slip past your lips. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until now.

“Girl, if I wanted to watch some soft core I would. Take that little number off so you can really feel it, yeah?”

“A-are you sure?”

“What do you think?”

He releases his dick from his vice grip to help you undress. He undoes the bow behind your back, then he unties the sides of your bikini bottoms. He comments under his breath at how easy it would be for him to sneak up behind you and untie your bottoms so he could fuck you by the pool, as a breathy moan leaves both of your throats. He rips both of the pieces off in a flash before they were discarded to the floor. You suddenly felt so barren in front of him, being that he was still nearly fully clothed.

“Goddamn, if I would have known what you looked like underneath I would have walked in on you a long time ago. You know I’ve heard you doing it before right? I’d just listen then go take care of myself later. Wouldn’t want to ruin my special girl too soon, now would I?” He asks as e grabs a handful of your plump tit and kneads it in his hand.

You feel your neck turned red as you watch him eye you up and down. He reaches forward and starts to suck on your nipple, making you moan above him. He’s stopped stroking himself at this point, instead wrapping his hand around the base of his cock to keep from cumming. I mean he hadn’t got laid in a while, but shit. This was getting ridiculous. He jerked off plenty, but something about seeing your pale, soft skin all bare for him was making his stomach do flips. Your fat tits, your sinful hips, and god your fucking pussy. It was so plump and wet, it was practically begging for his cock. He needed to fucking ruin you.

His words went right to your pussy, and you continued to touch yourself without instruction. At this point, you were too desperate to care about embarrassing yourself. If he wasn’t going to make you cum, you were going to on your own.

You didn’t even need to lick your fingers before you continued toying with your clit. Given that the masturbation session turned into an impromptu mutual masturbation session, your pussy had been wet for god knows how long now. You were chasing your climax at a rapid pace, but you couldn’t quite tip over the edge. Maybe it was the position, or the previous embarrassment. But regardless, you couldn’t think about cumming without Toji’s fingers deep inside you.

“T-Toji, please. Need.. h-help”

“T-Toji, pwease!” He mocks, causing you to stop your movements.

“I want you Toji, pretty please?”

“What is it that at you want, huh?”

Is he really going to make you spell it out for him?

“I want you, I-I need you to make me cum, p-please Toji, fuck”

How could he say no to that?

pt. 4

[whosbloom]

Tate Langdon » Sweater Weather

day 6 of flufftober

⋆.˚ summary: the one thing he loves more than his sweaters is you

⋆.˚ fluff , alive!Tate, Tate being a lil cutie patootie , mutual pining , prob one of my fav fics so far

Tate was never one to share his sweaters, they were the one thing he always found comfort in. The warm feeling of the fabric hugging him was something he never wanted to share, especially when the temperatures dropped and sweaters began a necessity.

Though, that all changed when you came along.

Your friendship had started when you approached him at lunch, explaining you wanted to get to know him since he seemed to not talk to anyone.

He somewhat pushed you away at first, not wanting anyone pity for being a loner, but soon enough he ended up finding your presence comforting, even more than the knitted sweaters he wore on a daily basis.

You had discussed your struggles of dealing with bullying with him, reaching out and messed with the sleeve of his sweater. Usually he would have pushed you away, but he let you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers occasionally brushing against his hand.

If he saw you shivering he’d offer you a hug, engulfing you in his warm embrace, letting you steal the heat the sweater provided him.

And when the leaves would change color and fall on the ground, he found himself holding onto you a lot more, until he gave in and decided to give you the one thing he seemed to cherish most.

A striped green and black sweater.

“So, Tate, I was thinking that for Halloween this year we could hangout and watch some movies at my place? Then whatever candy my parents have left we can finish up.” You explained while walking down the street, one of your hands holding onto his arm, messing with the fabric of his sweater.

The cold air was bothering you, your thin shirt not providing any warmth once so ever. Of course that morning you didn’t think would be bad, considering it was rather warm when you exited the house.

He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, hesitantly pulling his arm from your grasp and wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he brought you along up the pathway of his house.

“You seriously need to invest in a jacket.” He mumbled out, an amused smile toying at his lips as he opened the front door for you.

“I don’t have the money right now, and my hoodies would have me sweating my ass off in the morning.” You chuckled lightly as you stepped inside, waving to Addy as you walked by her while heading upstairs.

He trailed behind you mindlessly, reaching forward and grabbed your hand, holding onto your fingers lightly.

“I could just.. give you my sweater.” He shrugged as you entered his room, causing him to let go of your hand and reluctantly tugged off his sweater, handing it towards you.

“Take it.” He said simply, ignoring your confused expression as you hesitantly grabbed it from him.

“I mean.. are you sure? This is like your favorite one, I don’t wanna just take it.” He shook his head at your words, patting your arm while walking to his closet, simply pulling out his beige cardigan and slipped into it, adjusting it slightly.

“I offered it. So please.. take it.” He glanced back at you, raising his brows.

You couldn’t help but smile, nodded as you were quick to put it over you. You adjusted the neckline as it was a little too wide for your neck, but you knew you could make it work.

You turned to him and showed it off, not noticing the way his gaze instantly softened as his own smile formed on his lips, stepping closer to you and pulled you into a hug.

“You better take care of it. I care about that thing as much as I care about you.” He mumbled out, his face buried in your shoulder as he kept you close.

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his torso, looking at him with an equally soft gaze. “I promise I’ll take care of it. This is now my favorite thing I own.”

He chuckled lightly as he lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours as a small blush formed on his face, seeing how close the two of you were.

“Y’know.. you can take a sweater whenever you need. And don’t try to protest.” He lifted a finger to silence you, raising his brows at you.

You rolled your eyes playfully and nodded, holding your hands up in a defensive manner. “Fine, fine. I won’t protest.. but won’t it seem like we’re dating if I’m always wearing your stuff?”

The utter thought of dating you made his stomach churn, his eyes slightly widening as he tried to figure out what to say.

“Uh.. is that such a bad thing?” He mumbled out, moving past you and sat on his bed, kicking his shoes off. “Well, it’s not. I wouldn’t mind, just wanted to know what you would think.”

You shrugged and sat next to him awkwardly, messing with the sleeves of the sweater one keep.

“Do you.. want to?” He glanced up at you, a hopeful yet worried expression on his face.

He was worried on how you would respond, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want you to feel the same way he did about the matter.

“We could try.” You responded nervously, knitting your brows together as you tried to process what the two of you were even discussing.

“Would you want to.. go on a date then? We could turn that Halloween idea into one.” He said looked away as he suggested that, patting his knees awkwardly and whistled to himself.

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond verbally, simply moving closer and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his arm.

And that was all he needed for a smile to form on his face again, wrapping his arm around you and leaned his head on yours.

“I hope you know I’m never taking this sweater off now.” You smiled lightly as you nuzzled up against him, squeezing him slightly.

“Good.. I don’t want you to anyway.”

Tags: @lemoniiiiiii , @xrag-dollx , @jazz-berry (ask to be added!!)

[anna-proxx]

pretty please can we have arthur morgan falling in love with hyperfem! reader? ur stuff is always so so yummy,, no pressure ofc! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

⭒✧⋆｡guns n' bows ✧⋆｡⭒

pairing: Arthur Morgan x hyperfem!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst (good ending)

summary: Arthur finds himself adoring a dainty woman who joined the gang a while ago. It suddenly becomes clear to him he has fallen in love.

word count: 3294

tags: high honor arthur, fem!reader, (mutual) pining, arthur being a sweetheart

a/n: thank u so much, dolly! i had a few ideas on how to approach this and decided to make it more story-based and focus on arthur's inner process as he realizes he's in love with the reader (as i would imagine it to go). if you'd like something a bit different, lmk! i've been wanting to write a hyperfem fic for a while now, so i had fun with it. also, i'm thinking about writing a pt. 2 where i'd focus more on the reader's pov and have arthur express his feelings more (be a cutie around her) and confess his love. <3

dividers by @saradika / @saradika-graphics

✮ masterlist

Arthur Morgan wasn't used to being gentle with people. His hands were rough and calloused and his muscle memory trained to draw his guns and shoot. They were meant to be a weapon, to protect and harm for the people he considered his family.

Perhaps he had it in him, but there was no reason to be soft and gentle – the world was just as rough as him and he was assigned the burden of fighting against it. The softest he could get was between the pages of his journal as he wrote about his thoughts and sketched owls and beavers and when he patted dogs and talked to his horse.

But most of those were away from prying eyes and frankly, the role of a dense criminal prized for his brawn comfortably fit around his overlooked qualities, as that was all he needed to be. To survive, to fulfill his role.

And yet you saw right through it. Of course you did, you had a good heart, open to whoever you saw goodness in. While some might write Arthur off as a rugged criminal only, you noticed his edges weren't as sharp as he tried making them seem to be.

His duties were violent, sometimes brutal, the earth soaking up blood of his enemies and his image reflecting in their eyes as the last thing before they closed them forever. To some, he was their biggest nightmare. He wasn't a good man, to believe so would be naive and foolish, but he wasn't all bad either, as some would think.

Your heart was big enough to accept his sins and leave the judgment to whatever was above, meanwhile you sought his presence as it brought you a strangely warm sense of security and comfort. Like moth to a flame, his different nature allured you. Hardened on the outside and soft-hearted on the inside.

Perhaps that was the reason you found yourself liking this big outlaw. Scooted towards him at the campfire, or sat nearby and watched him as he lied on his cot and scribbled something into his journal.

You might've been fragile and soft spoken, but you weren't stupid and your intuition on people was like a radar you could wholeheartedly trust. So you did.

Arthur didn't exactly know you sometimes looked for his presence, but he did notice you were comfortable around him.

It baffled him a little – you were so small compared to him, wearing lace and frills and cute little bows in your hair and yet you didn't seem to be intimidated by his appearance or demeanor at all. It sparked joy inside of him whenever you'd come to him blabbering about the rainbow you saw or gave him a soft smile as your eyes met.

You never treated him with judgment or revulsion, despite knowing very well your morals were against everything he was doing. Just how big of a sweetheart were you to do that? He never said it, but it meant a lot to him.

He felt as though you weren't even a part of all this. You were like a gem among roughened stones or a flower growing in gravel, reading in your tent and braiding your horse's mane while he washed blood off his hands.

And truth be told, because of that, he found you to be soothing and healing for his battered soul. It was so different, to be around someone like you.

You brought out a side of him he didn't know he had, one that was more tender than he was used to be. He didn't feel so angry or cynical, even after a job gone wrong. When he was with you, being gentle was easy.

At the beginning, when you first fell with the gang, it was doubt and hesitation he felt towards you. You were so... untouched by the world's cruelty, so innocent and open-hearted.

Arthur assumed you were naive and feeble, not only in the physical sense but mental as well. The world posed a huge threat to someone like you and he was worried you wouldn't survive in such circumstances. He was convinced you'd run after a few weeks but you did no such thing.

As the months passed, you stayed with the gang, patient and resilient while remaining soft and feminine. You helped where you could and offered a listening ear to anyone who needed it; even managed to get Arthur to open up to you when you two were alone. And you barely ever complained, even ate all Pearson's stews though you must've been used to eating fine food. And you lit up the space wherever you went. Your optimism was invincible. How the hell were you managing to do that?

It dawned on him he must've terribly underestimated you and his doubtfulness turned into admiration and intrigue. You were one fascinating little thing.

Things have been going quite downhill, so he kept checking up on you and you always had a warm smile to offer. You were still sweet and charming, even with the law on your tail.

You were his polar opposite, gentle waves of the sea splashing against hard rocks hot from the sun. Soft clouds concealing the sky after a raging storm. A calm rain on a hot summer day.

Arthur had no intentions of falling in love ever again.

But his heart was a sneaky little traitor.

Dusk softly illuminated the lake's surface when he found you sitting on the pier, your feet splashing in the water. You put your shoes beside you and held the skirt of your dress at your knees to avoid getting it wet. It was your favorite, white and pink, the corset decorated with little bows at the front. Your locks curled loosely over your shoulders, a light pink bow tying some of it at the back of your head.

You looked so vulnerable and cute lost in your thoughts like this, your feet creating creases in the water as you idly watched them. You had no company with you, only a couple of ducks swimming nearby and butterflies fluttering their wings around your head.

Arthur wondered what your mind was occupied with and before he could properly think it through, his steps directed towards your small frame lit by warm light.

You were pondering on the events of the past few weeks when the heavy steps on the wooden planks caught your attention. Turning your head to look up at the person coming, your eyes lit up as you saw it was your favorite one.

"Arthur!" you called out, your big doe eyes digging a pit in Arthur's stomach.

"[Name]. How are you?" His gaze lingered on you as he stood before you, his hands placed on the gun belt around his hips. You found the concern sweet. Instead of it being a casual phrase, his eyes studied you for an actual answer.

"Good, I think. What about you?" Your voice was smooth like honey and inviting, giving the outlaw something to lean into.

"'M alright," his voice rumbled as he shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Ya like this place?"

You shortly looked around, taking in the view of the trees and dim sky reflected back in the peaceful lake.

"I do, it's such a charming spot." You looked back into Arthur's face, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

"'M glad to hear that."

You could almost hear his goodbye that would follow but before he had the chance, you spoke.

"Come on, join me." You patted the spot next to you and slightly turned your body towards Arthur when he sat beside you.

Arthur was a bit at loss of words, always quick with his witty responses but uncertain around you. Your flowery perfume overcame him, then the sight of your rosy cheeks and full lips. You looked like a doll, looking at him through your long lashes with the most innocent look in your eyes.

For a moment your company made him forget about everything. He felt like just a man instead of a sinner, leaning into the silent acceptance you provided him.

You swung your feet in the water. "What did you do today?" you asked kindly, no trace of judgment.

Arthur sighed, recalling the day's events. "Robbed a stagecoach, had to shoot 'em guards. Met a few of the O'Driscoll boys too."

He wasn't one to sugarcoat things, especially when there was no reason to. You knew what kind of person he was and despite you never expressing disgust, he knew you must've had certain sentiments of him and they were all true. He was no better than the crooks he fought. And yet, with you, he wished he was.

Your gaze found his hand resting over his knee, barely dried blood on his knuckles.

"Oh, Arthur!" You took his hand in his, examining the damage with focus as you held his palm with both your hands, yours small in comparison to his.

Arthur's breath faltered in his throat. A lukewarm feeling settled in his chest and slight panic ran through his mind as he was slow to realize just what was happening. The warm touch of your smooth fingers was unusually intensive and he wished for the moment to never stop, as if he ever cared for such things.

He felt silly for it. What was happening with him? Why did he feel such fondness at your delicate hands cradling his, the slight blush on your cheeks, the flyaway hairs around your head?

He furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar tightness in his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat picking up on pace.

He hasn't felt this way ever since...

"Your poor knuckles," you mumbled while gently running your finger over the bruises. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen them healed."

Your tone was nothing but caring, as if Arthur hadn't used the fist to break someone's jaw. You put his hand away, putting yours in your lap as you continued bathing your feet in the water and watching the thoughtful look on Arthur's face as he softly looked at you.

Arthur cleared his throat, chasing all the crazy thoughts away. "And how's yer day been?"

You tactfully ignored the change of topic and played around with your necklace as you spoke. "Well, it was alright. I've been doing chores almost whole day, then went to Rhodes for some supplies with Tilly and Javier. He also taught me a bit of one Spanish song!"

Oh did he? A pang of jealousy struck him. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Arthur, everything okay?" you asked, your brow furrowed at the sight of his troubled expression.

"Sure, 'm... just tired, that's all."

You nodded, looking at the sky coloring itself in blueish grays. "Yeah, I might go to sleep earlier today as well, I reckon."

Pulling your feet out of the water, you started putting on your shoes while Arthur stood up, offering you a hand by the time you were done. You smiled up at him and accepted his hand, being effortlessly pulled up to your feet.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Your voice wouldn't leave his head, even after you walked towards your tent, disappearing from his sight. He walked to his own one in a trance, left with many unanswered questions in his head.

This wasn't like him, even less to be so confused by his feelings. And yet, as he lay in his cot that night, he kept going back to the moment at the lake, imagining what it would've felt like to brush his fingers through your soft hair or cup your cheek.

Another heavy sigh.

Only yesterday you were still just you. A kind girl they had rescued when she had nowhere else to go, a young woman who–

No, who was he kidding. The warning signs had been there long before; the warmth in his chest whenever he saw you, that little jump his heart did when you said his name, the joy he felt when you asked him for small favors.

It gnawed at him, the sense of knowing he tried pushing away.

He fell in love with you. Somewhere along the way, without taking notice. As complicated and messy it would make things, in a way, admitting to himself the feelings he had for you felt relieving.

How was he so stupid not to realize sooner?

He loved the way you got excited over making flower crowns and how you'd weave some for the girls. He loved when he saw you consoling and comforting Karen into putting the bottle away, or even being kind to that bastard Kieran. He loved when he found you playing with Jack, letting him put flowers in your hair. He loved your feminine gaze, the one that would capture all his attention, or how your kindness towards him made him feel. As if there was still hope for him, as if he wasn't damned after all.

But there was a tight knot in his stomach. He might've set himself up for another heartbreak. How could you want someone like him?

Arthur fell asleep riddled with contradicting thoughts that night.

The new reality of being in love with you gave him a sort of solace. But it wasn't until morning that he decided he could only do one thing – keep his distance. For both his and your sake.

You were beautiful and dainty like a rose, but he was the thorns.

Arthur did as he promised to himself – despite the stolen glances and wishful thoughts split in half, he would avoid you, though it wasn't as apparent as he's been so busy lately. Not like he would complain about that, if anything, it took his mind off you, even if not for long.

Above all he wanted to return to camp after a difficult job and be close to you, talk to you, feel your calming presence.

What he didn't expect with his plan was how much it would wear him down.

But the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, which he assumed would eventually happen, or lose his head for someone who wouldn't reciprocate the same feelings back.

He returned to camp late today. In the middle of the night when everyone was already asleep. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in his cot, his shoulders slouched as he got down from the saddle and patted his horse a good night, unsaddling him to give him some rest too. The night was quiet and tranquil, like peace after a storm, given how Arthur's day went.

It has been weeks since Arthur had realized he had feelings for you by this point and looking towards the tents, he couldn't help but wonder whether you were alright. He hasn't been around much lately, so he could only guess you continued to be true to who you've been since the beginning. With ribbons in your hair and a dreamy look in your face.

He sighed at the image. What a lovestruck fool he was.

He missed your sleepy eyes and the little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you were confused.

As if something listened to his wishes, a small figure emerged from the shadows and he realized it was you.

Wearing your undergarments, bloomers with frills and lace, you made your way straight towards him. Your hair was in two braids tied by pink ribbons, though a bit messy from sleep, and the loose strands of hair tucked behind your ear.

He froze in place, watching you get closer while his heart went a little crazy. A part of him was happy to see you approaching him, whatever the reason for that was. It made him feel fuzzy inside and that scared him more than any gunfight.

"Arthur!" you called out for him with a slightly shaky voice, not stopping your steps until you stood right before him.

Arthur fought the urge to reach out for you as he saw you small and vulnerable, looking up at him with need, his heart struck with fear when he noticed the little tears in your eyes.

"[Name], what's wrong?" There was urgency in his voice, a worried look in his eyes and panic coursing through his veins.

You held a sob as you spoke, hugging yourself with your arms, a few of the loose strands falling into your face.

"J-just a nightmare. I woke up so s-scared." You started to shiver as you recalled the frightening images. As soft as you were on the outside, you had a vivid imagination and your nightmares could get very eerie and gruesome, causing chills to travel up your spine every time the memory flashed before your eyes.

Arthur's instincts now clutched his heart tightly, a knot tying itself in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this, helpless, afraid and trembling. The sight of you awakened every bit of his protective nature and he didn't want anything more than to hold you and never let you go, even put his life on the line just to keep you safe.

He didn't think twice.

"Aw, c'mere," he proposed in a low warm voice, enveloping you in his embrace gently enough to give you the option of changing your mind.

But you snuggled into the hug instead, a small sob escaping you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, your arms barely connecting behind his back.

He was so warm and firm and you have never felt safer in your whole life. The anxiety was slowly mellowed out, filling your heart with affection instead.

Arthur breathed in your scent and it made him feel lightheaded, and to feel your soft warm body pressed against his felt like a dream.

You were so delicate in his arms and your exposed skin made it hard for him to keep his thoughts straight. He was a gentleman of course, but his heart raced nonetheless and he feared you could hear it beating against your ear.

"It's okay, t'was just a dream." His voice was soothing and warm, and it worked like a charm. He consoled you with strokes on your back, his big palms hot through the thin layer of your undergarments.

"What horrible thin' did ya dream 'bout?" Arthur asked, his embrace not loosening around you. He was quite happy like this, protecting you between his arms, as if you always belonged there.

You kept your face nuzzled to his chest, comfortably leaning into the hug.

You started talking about the dream and he listened. A monster, you said, something big and deranged sneaking its way around to its victims. You rambled about the details, your descriptions a mess as you spoke in loose tangles.

Arthur slightly smiled at your stuttering, it made you even more adorable than you already were, though he didn't know it was even possible.

He would kill anyone who'd dare to touch you.

"'M the only scary thing 'round here 'm afraid," Arthur muttered, his chest rumbling under your head.

"As if," you retorted with your voice muffled, certainty in your disagreement.

It caught Arthur off guard a little and nervousness arose in him as he asked the following question. "You ain't scared of me?"

He knew if there was even an ounce of fear in you, it would've killed him.

You looked up at him, your eyes big and glossy. "I feel safe with you, Arthur."

His heart dropped and he looked into your eyes completely baffled, not grasping how such a sweet creature like you could say such a thing to him.

You felt safe with him.

You did.

He felt vulnerable under your gaze; not even heavens could make him feel so exposed. He was afraid you could read his thoughts with that pretty mind of yours as you held the eye contact, that you could recognize how much he was now melting and crumbling inside.

So much for being a tough hardened criminal.

He felt like a teenager again. The sweating hands, tingles in his stomach, it was all back.

Arthur tightened his embrace, cuddling you closer.

As he held you under the starry sky, your tiny arms wrapped around him, he was sure of one thing.

He could do many things. But staying away from you was not one of them.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Hi love could I possibly request an auston matthews x reader? I would absolutely love to see reader and her best friend riding his beautiful thick thighs👀 not quite sure how I want it to go down so I’ll leave that part up to you🫣🤭

like… just look at him waiting for it🤭

Babe, you did me in on this one! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🫦🫦

C|W : 18+; (implied) alcohol usage; girl-on-girl; threesome; thigh riding; mutual masturbation; edging

Cuties to tag : @quinnsbabygirl @ruinix @quinnhughesandqenthusiast

W|C : 2.7k

"You're both making it hard to choose," Auston joked, the roar the music forcing the three of you to stand almost huddled together. You and your best friend had managed to slip into a party somewhere in downtown Toronto and had caught the eye of the Maple Leafs' captain. Since running into Auston, he had found it difficult as to which of you he wanted to give his attention to, which had prompted the statement.

"You can have us both," your bestie said through a giggle, her hands wrapped around his bicep.

The alcohol in your system was giving you both extra courage in the moment, and you were thankful for it. It made flirting with someone like Auston Matthews easier, or the rejection easier to get over. "Yeah, we're a packaged deal."

He smirked, turning his attention to you, "Oh, is that so?" His laugh made your whole body hot, and you involuntarily clenched your legs together. You could tell already, that just by talking to him -coupled with the drinks he had bought- that you wet. God, if you could just have ten minutes with him in a bathroom, you'd be more than happy. "Well, what kind of deal is this exactly?"

Looking at each other, you and your girlfriend giggled again. It seemed like you were the one to decide what it entailed by the look on her face.

"You get twice the fun," you replied, biting your bottom lip.

Auston's golden eyes seemed to darken before he spoke, sending a second rush of arousal threatening to drip down your bare leg. "Twice the fun, or double the trouble?"

Shaking your head, you'd catch him staring, "Double the pleasure, not trouble."

- - -

The drive to Auston's had been a blur. Your girlfriend had nearly pushed you into the front seat of his car while she slipped in behind you in the backseat. All you could remember was him switching between which thighs he rested his hand on while he drove. Within your mind, you were begging him to let his hand trail further and further up your leg until he was knuckle deep in your pussy. You weren't drunk enough to ask for something like that, even if you wanted it as badly as your body was reminding you that you did. Part of you wondered if your partner-in-crime was feeling just as desperate as you were.

"Can I get you girls anything?" Auston asked, showing the both of you inside. "Another couple drinks or something?"

The lights were low and the air was cool against your skin, but it felt so good. Your racing thoughts -filled with desperate fantasies- still had your mind clouded, so you had to be careful of your words any time you had to open your mouth, lest some dark desire just fell out.

"Oh, I'm down for another," you confessed, pulling a hand through your hair, feeling free and completely uninhibited. You could still feel it: feel how aroused you were, as you walked about his living room. How long had it been since you had been so flirty, so empowered to let your body feel good? By now you were all but begging him to rail you against the counter, it had been a while...

"Anything specific," Auston asked, giving you another sly smile before asking your bestie. "What about you, sweetheart?"

"Vodka-cran, or whatever is easy? We don't...want to be a problem."

Her comment about being problems brought a fit of laughter between the two of you. You'd catch Auston smiling to himself before he turned away to find some glasses. Was this a dream, or had he actually brought both of you home for a bit of a private show?

"Oh my god!" you whispered, taking her hands; you could barely contain yourself, "What are we doing?"

"We're going to have a little fun," she hushed, gazing at your lips. She made the first move and pushed against you. Returning the deep kiss, her hands would find your waist as you held her face with yours. It was your moan that pulled Auston's attention away from the vodka he had been pouring. You wouldn't notice him staring at the two of you, seeing her hands roaming your body in that backless, silk dress.

Again, and again, you wanted someone --something-- you brush against your clit; give it the attention it was craving, but she'd make you wait as well. Her fingers trailed down the curve of your hips, catching the short hem of your dress before being pulled back upwards, taking with the fabric with them, revealing you hadn't been wearing any underwear beneath it. The silken fabric would slip back over your curves as the two of you continued nipping at each other's lips, before Auston made it across the room. Upon hearing his soft footsteps, the two of you would part ways, blushing at having been caught despite being out in the open.

He smirked, bringing the two of you your requested drinks, "Don't let me stop you."

Your friend would be the first to speak, "We were just waiting for you."

"Oh, well if that was the case, I appreciate it."

Words couldn't describe how beautiful Auston's smile was as he sat down in the middle of the sofa that was behind you. There he was, looking up at the two of you like he had won some type of lottery. He was sitting deep, legs wide apart like he was just asking to be straddled, and when he motioned for the two of you to have a seat, you knew right where you were going to go. You'd take a sip of the cocktail before setting it down on the coffee table. Your place wouldn't be beside him on the available cushion, but instead, you straddled his left thigh. His smile widened, feeling your weight drape over his leg.

"Plenty of room for two," he teased, giving his right thigh an affectionate tap for your girlfriend your follow suit.

Oh god -- finally feeling some kind of pressure against your throbbing bud felt amazing, but you had to remain somewhat proper -- for the time being anyway. Your girlfriend did the same as you: putting her drink down to find herself with knees bent on the sofa, feeling his muscular leg fill the void between her legs.

Auston kissed you first; breath sweet from whatever had been the mixer of his previous drinks. Your fingers dragged down his jawline; the coarse hairs tickling your fingertips as they went. His full lips didn't disappoint, and each time you had to take a breath you gasped.

Selfishly, you let him return his attention to your friend. Watching him kiss her made you both jealous and turned on. Her fingers were clawing at his broad chest while you let your right hand rest atop his shoulder for balance. When he shifted slightly, beneath the weight of both of you on him, the friction of his pants against your aching lips made you gasp. That slight bit of movement set you off, and now you couldn't help the fact that you were pushing your clit against his thigh for selfish reasons. Finally, all of your abundant arousal was making itself known as it began to soak Auston's pants as you grinded.

"Does that feel good?" He asked, bringing attention to your pleasure. He was grinning, as his left hand cupped your ass, aiding in your rhythm.

"Uh-huh," you mumbled, returning the smile. The way his eyes were looking over your body was delicious; feeling him on you was incredible.

Auston let himself fall back into the cushions of the sofa, simply admiring the view, "Don't stop then."

"O--okay," you drunkenly moaned, eyes fluttering closed against the bliss.

Your friend on the other hand, found herself watching you, and waited for the permission she craved. It wouldn't take long, as Auston was being quite attentive to both of you girls. While, you were busy quietly moaning each time your clit grazed the soft fabric, he coaxed her to match your pace, which she did so happily.

She was much louder than you; moaning like a well-seasoned porn star, and obviously had been just as needy as you had been some moments before. Auston was in heaven, though he remained reserved and restrained. He merely smiled, letting his hands and eyes admire the views before him, absolutely in awe at how his evening was developing. This was one that would replay in his mind for months to come while on the road. While he was praising your companion, you had pulled the thin straps of your dress, over your shoulders, exposing your breasts as the dress fell to your waist.

Your eyes were still closed, hips rocking steadily with his guiding hand to support you, as it had now slipped beneath the dress to have his skin on yours. He knew how wet you were -- he could feel it, but welcomed all of it happily as, it too, was making him hard.

"Aren't you glad you brought us both," she asked, wanting his eyes on her for a little longer, pace slowing so she could regain the ability to speak.

His laugh was deep and throaty which both of you could feel through your bodies, "Oh, absolutely. You haven't disappointed me for a second." She'd pull him into another set of kisses, but his hand gripped tighter on your body in return. The feeling of him on your skin was so warm and it was hard to think about anything else.

"Make those pretty noises for me," he told her, as she tightened up against his thigh. Instantly, she was lost to her pleasures and forgot you were even there.

When Auston turned back to you, however, the sight of your breasts gently bouncing against your movements had him wanting more. He leaned forward and caught your left nipple with his tongue, making your eyes snap open has you let loose a sharp moan from the incredible feeling. His hot tongue against your skin made your whole body shiver.

"More-- pl-ease," you found yourself able to beg now, inhibitions fully down and without care. He'd roll your taut nipple over his tongue like a candy, noticing how it made your hips buck each time he applied pressure. When your hand found his cock, however, Auston's moan rippled through your body. Your palm pressed against his erection, making him melt slightly against your touch.

"There will be time for that later, sweetheart. Just worry about yourself right now," he cooed, catching your fleeting gaze while he could.

"Yes, Papi," you whispered, returning the brilliant smile to his lips.

That had been the magic word. You knew exactly what to call him without him having to say or hint at anything.

"I want you to call me that when you come."

You nodded, feeling another wave of pleasure wash over you, making an absolute mess of his pants but he couldn't have cared less.

"Good girl," he whispered, releasing from you a deep moan he hadn't yet heard. "Ah, there she is. You like that, huh?"

You couldn't answer him, just pushed harder your clit into his soaked leg. He turned back to your friend, who had quickened her pace once more. She was panting, playing with her own nipples as she rode his thigh with slower passes that you had been.

"Why don't you touch her, hm? Tell me how wet she is."

After a couple seconds, you let your left hand find her leg beside you, grabbing at her thigh before sliding your fingers towards her clothed pussy. She moaned against the feeling of your touch to her clit. It throbbed against your fingertips, as you flicked it gently from your position.

"She's soaked through her lace panties," you giggled, amazed at what you were doing. She felt so good beneath your fingers and soon, Auston was asking her to return the favour. You, however, had no cloth to be separated from. Her skin against yours, your wetness coating her fingers could have had you screaming if you had less control. Your moans in his ears told him everything he needed to know. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his pants, seeing both of you touching one another.

"That's it, get each other off."

What a collection of feelings you both were experiencing at the same time. You looked at one another, having heard him tell you to masterbate each other in front of him, while still riding his thick thigs. Her eyes rolled backwards, her left hand still rolling her thumb across her nipple. The quicker her finger coaxed your clit for a release, the quicker your hips met Auston's leg and the more you moaned.

"Careful, I want you both to come at the same time. Slow down." He cooed,

"I've never been this wet," you mumbled, feeling your friends wet fingers tease your swelled bud in a circular motion. "Are you close?"

You were careful not to get her to a climax before you were ready, but the way she was pushing into your hand said she was nearing an orgasm.

"Just-- just a little more. Uh, right there. Right there!"

Just then, her thumb found your clit, teasing you with a rapid back-and-forth fluttering. Your legs widened as much as they could in the space given. Your moans and gasps grew quicker and quicker; you wanted to come so badly but you had to wait.

"Shhhhh, slow down. Not yet."

His voice felt like velvet between your ears. He could have talked you to an orgasm if he had tried.

"You mentioned double the pleasure earlier, hm? Which one of you is going to ride my cock while the other rides my face?"

Both of you smiled and looked at the other for a quick second.

"Who gets what," you struggled to ask, mouth dry from gasping for air through the pleasure.

"You decide," he smirked.

Without hesitation, you asked her, "What do you... what do you want?"

"Oh, I wanna ride his cock," she replied desperately, voice shaky from your teasing fingers.

You found the strength to look Auston in the face and grinned. He seemed pleased with the immediate answer.

"Perfect," he said, voice breathy as his mind anticipated the later. "You two are so beautiful."

You almost didn't hear his compliment. Everything was coming at you so fast: fighting off your want to finish, concentrating on your left hand, the feeling of Auston's hand still pushing you forward, and just the desire to breathe. It was so much to take in that your ears were almost turned off.

There was that feeling again: the swirling torrent of pleasure demanding to break through.

"I wanna come!" You cried out. "I wanna come, please. I can't-- I can't--"

"Okay-- Okay!"

Auston's face showed his approval of the two of you both doing as he had asked, and together, you both reached your shared orgasms.

"Oh-- Oh-- Papi!" You yelled, finding yourself struggling to keep control of your limbs. "Papi!"

His hand remained where it had been on your body, and braced against your friend's waist, fearing she was going to collapse against the sensations. You both were breathless, panting as wave after wave of enjoyment washed over your senses and sensitive regions. Fingers slowly retracted from their ordered positions and returned to your own bodies. You couldn't remember the last time you had come so hard, or so many times in a row.

"Good girls," he praised. "Both of you."

Eventually, both of you would lean forward, and lay your heads over his shoulders as he held you in his arms. You were exhausted, having lost track of time though it didn't matter. The night wasn't over yet. There would be numerous more to be shared and dawn was still many hours away.

Who was keeping count?