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cumironi · 5 months ago

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A BRAT IS ALL I WANT ！

TOJI FUSHIGURO has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.

warning. husband! toji fushiguro, breeding kink, ōral ( m! receiving ), fingering, nipple-playing, dirty talk, pet names, name-calling.

wc. 4,5k | in this megumi wasn't born yet.

sure, you loved being toji fushiguro's wife. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!

“c’mon baby.. i want a brat…”

toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!

“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”

you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for a kid right now.”

he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. you know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'll look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you."

you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”

his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”

with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”

“you're such an infuriating man!” you huff indignantly, squirming underneath him despite yourself. “fine then, if i have to do this, you better make it worth my while!”

your hands reach up to claw at his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there as you push against him. the firmness of his body pressed against yours sends shivers through your spine. “show me what else you can do besides getting me pregnant...”

he smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. “is that so?” he murmurs seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your lips.

his tongue slips past them in a dominant sweep that leaves no room for argument. one hand moves from your hip to cup one of your breasts over the fabric of your shirt, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through the material.

“you've got quite the mouth on you when you're angry,” he growls approvingly before pulling away slightly to admire his handiwork— the flush spreading across your cheeks and chest. “but don’t worry baby... i plan on showing you plenty tonight.”

your breath catches in your throat as he continues his assault on your senses. you arch up into his touch, nipples pebbling harder against the palm of his hand.

“arrogant bastard...” you gasp out between moans, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the heat pooling between your legs.

but it’s futile— every brush of his skin against yours sets fire to your veins and makes your heart race faster. the sight of him looming above you like this, so powerful yet so gentle at times... it drives you wild.

“just remember this next time you decide to play doctor without consent,” you manage to say through gritted teeth before biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. he chuckles darkly at your words, but doesn't stop what he's doing. instead, his other hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh tightly.

“oh, i'll remember alright,” he promises huskily before leaning down to capture another kiss from you.

his free hand slips beneath your shirt to find bare skin, tracing up along your ribcage until he reaches your breast once more. this time though, there's no barrier between them— only soft flesh meeting rough fingertips.

“feel good?” he asks teasingly as he rolls your nipple between two fingers causing sparks to shoot straight down to your core. the sensation of his touch on your bare skin sends shockwaves through you. a low whimper escapes from deep within your throat as he teases your sensitive nipple.

“too good,” you admit breathlessly, tilting your head back against the cushioned couch back. your hips instinctively buck upwards seeking friction against nothing but air. the need for something— anything— to fill that empty ache gnawing at you becomes almost unbearable.

“just because i say yes doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me,” you pant out weakly, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever shred of control left over. but with each stroke of his fingers over your heated flesh, it feels less like a warning and more like an invitation into pleasureland.

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your words. “take advantage? me?” he questions mockingly, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.

slowly, deliberately, he starts to slide downwards— kissing and licking a path along your collarbone before dipping lower still until he reaches the swell of your breasts. “i think we both know who's really in charge here,” he rumbles against your skin, hot breath ghosting over one hardened peak, “and it ain't you.”

without warning, he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard— tongue swirling around it torturously slow while his hand continues its ministrations on the other side.

a sharp cry tears itself from your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. his mouth on your breast feels incredible; too much so for comfort. your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close against you. despite everything you’ve been saying, it’s clear that you’re losing ground fast.

“don't stop...” you breathe out heavily, unable to deny him anymore.

even though part of you knows this isn't fair— that he's manipulating things to get exactly what he wants— another part relishes in being taken care of like this. and god help you, but it feels amazing.

“oh, fuck! just please...”

he hums in approval against your breast, the vibration sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “that's it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to lavish attention on its twin. “just let go and enjoy it. you know you love when i take charge.”

his hands roam your body possessively, palming your curves and squeezing roughly enough to leave marks. when he finally pulls back to gaze down at you, his expression is pure sin— dark eyes blazing with hunger and dominance.

“now, where were we?” he muses, voice dripping with promise as he starts to unbutton his shirt— revealing chiseled abs and a scattering of scars. “why don't you show me just how grateful you are for my attention?” he suggests, fingers already working to undo his belt buckle.

the sight of him undressing, even partially, sends a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. your breath hitches in anticipation as he leans closer again. “like this?” you ask, reaching out to trace a finger down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscles ripple beneath your touch.

your hand dips lower, brushing against the bulge straining against his pants. a smirk curls your lips at the feel of him throbbing beneath your fingertips. “or maybe like this?” you whisper suggestively, giving his hardness a firm squeeze through the fabric. his bulge feels heavy on your palm.

he lets out a low groan at your touch, hips jerking forward involuntarily as you fondle him through his pants. “that's it, baby,” he encourages, his own hands coming up to cup your breasts again, kneading them roughly. “get me nice and hard for you.”

with a swift motion, he frees himself from his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring forth. it stands proud and erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use?” he commands, stroking himself slowly as he watches you with hungry eyes.

“lick it clean first, then take me deep inside that sweet little throat of yours. show me how much you want to be bred by me, my love.” the sight of his impressive erection makes your mouth water. with shaky hands, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. he's warm and solid in your grasp— a tangible proof of his arousal. you can't resist leaning in to lap at the precum beading at the tip, savoring the salty-sweet flavor.

leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss onto the head of his cock before taking it into your mouth. the salty-sweet flavor explodes on your tongue as you start to suck gently. “mmm, tastes good,” you murmur appreciatively before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently.

as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your warm, wet mouth with each pass, you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. his musky scent fills your nostrils, and the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating.

you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, determined to please him. your hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm as you work his shaft with increasing enthusiasm.

you bob your head back and forth, taking as much of him as possible into your warm cavernous space. each stroke sends tremors rippling through your body making it difficult to concentrate on anything else besides pleasing him right now.

a low, guttural moan escapes his lips as you take him deeper, the sound vibrating through you as you suck. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

“fucking hell, just like that,” he growls, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as you work him over, “such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?”

he rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, fucking your face with increasing urgency. the sight of your lips stretched tight around his girth, the way your cheeks hollow with each suck, is almost too much to bear. “you're going to make me cum so hard down your throat if you keep this up,” he warns, voice strained with pleasure. “ready to swallow every drop like a good girl?” his pace quickens, driving himself deeper with each thrust.

your nose presses against his pubic bone as he hits the back of your throat, the pressure building with each thrust. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you don't dare pull away.

“mmph!” you gag slightly as he bottoms out, but quickly recover, relaxing your throat to take him even deeper. the vibrations of your muffled moans add to the sensations as you continue to suck and lick at his shaft.

your free hand slides up his abdomen to tease his nipples, pinching and rolling them between your fingers as you service him. the dual stimulation of your mouth and hands pushes you closer to the edge, your own arousal building rapidly.

you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, watching his face contort in pleasure as you work him over. his hips buck wildly, driven by instinct alone as you manage to take him impossibly deep. the sight of those full lips wrapped tightly around his cock, trembling from effort and pleasure— it's all too much.

“oh fuck, right there...” he grunts out, eyes locked onto yours, “that's it, swallow every inch.”

with a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your throat. he holds there for a moment longer than necessary, letting you adjust before beginning to move again.

“gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers hoarsely, his control slipping as ecstasy floods through him. his strokes become erratic as he teeters on the brink of release.

“just... just a bit more, my l-love...”

the feeling of him pulsing against your tongue is exquisite, his impending climax evident in the way his cock throbs and twitches in your mouth. you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster as you sense his orgasm approaching.

your throat constricts around him rhythmically as you swallow, milking his shaft for all it's worth. drool escapes from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving breasts.

you can feel your own arousal building to a fever pitch, your core clenching around nothing as you imagine him filling you up with his seed. the thought alone nearly pushes you over the edge. but you hold off, determined to make him come first. you want to taste his essence, to feel him pulse and twitch in your mouth as he finds his release.

with a guttural groan, he slams home one last time, holding you in place as his cock erupts in your mouth. thick ropes of hot cum coat your tongue, flooding your senses with the intense flavor of his release.

“fuuuckkk!” he bellows, eyes rolling back in bliss as he rides out his orgasm. his grip on your hair tightens, not painful but insistent, keeping you still as he empties himself into your eager mouth. wave after wave of his seed pulses across your taste buds, each spurt a testament to his pleasure. finally, with a shuddering gasp, he stills, his cock softening slightly within the confines of your lips.

“swallow it all, baby,” he orders, voice husky with satisfaction, “every last drop belongs to you now.”

you eagerly swallow every last drop of his cum, savoring the taste as it coats your tongue and slips down your throat. his seed is potent and rich, leaving an unmistakable warmth spreading throughout your belly.

reluctantly releasing him from your mouth, you sit back on your heels, panting heavily. your lips are swollen and bruised from their vigorous use, a satisfied smile curving them despite the discomfort.

you reach up to wipe away some of the drool trickling down your chin, smearing it over your cleavage instead. looking up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and satisfaction, “did i do okay?”

he looks down at you, chest heaving with each breath as he fights to regain his composure. a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and disheveled.

“you always did, baby,” he replies, voice rough with residual pleasure, “best damn blowjob i've ever had.” he reaches out to run a finger along your jawline, tracing the path of a single tear that has managed to escape. his touch is surprisingly gentle given the intensity of what just transpired.

“but we're not done yet,“ he adds with a predatory gleam in his eye, “it's my turn to breed you now.” without waiting for further response, he pulls you towards him until you're straddling his lap once more. his cock is already starting to stir again, eager for another round. you wrap your arms around him, smiling so beautifully just like how you are, his sweet, sweet little wife.

feeling your arms encircle him, toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. his hands roam over your body, taking delight in the softness of your skin beneath his calloused palms.

“i'm glad you're mine,” he murmurs into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe, “i plan on making you feel very well taken care of.” his hands slide lower, pulling your hips flush against his growing erection. the sensation makes him groan in anticipation.

“so let's get started, shall we?”

you giggle softly, leaning in to press your lips to his in a tender kiss. as you pull back, you whisper, “i love being yours, toji. show me how much.” emboldened by your words, you begin to grind against him, your slick heat coating his length through the fabric of your underwear. the friction sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

he captures your lips again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. when you break apart, panting, he grips your hips firmly and begins to rock you against him, the motion deliberate and slow.

“that's it, ride my cock,” he commands, voice thick with need, “let me feel that sweet pussy of yours rubbing against me.” his hands slide under your shirt, palming your breasts roughly as he continues to grind you against his hardness. the sensation is maddening, each pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, you're soaked,” he growls, breaking the kiss to trail biting kisses down your neck, “can't wait to bury myself inside you and fill you up.”

you moan loudly, the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your clit driving you wild. you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his grasp as he tweaks and rolls your sensitive nipples. you can hardly stand it anymore; the need to have him inside you is overwhelming. you start to move faster against him, desperate for more contact.

“oh god, toji,” you whimper, looking into his eyes, “please, i need you... need you to fuck me.”

hearing your plea, toji's restraint snaps. with a swift movement, he stands up, carrying you effortlessly in his arms. he strides towards the bed, laying you down upon it with surprising gentleness considering the urgency of his actions.

“you'll get exactly what you ask for,” he promises, yanking down your panties with a rough tug. his gaze falls upon your glistening folds, wet and ready for him.

positioning himself between your thighs, he lines up his throbbing member at your entrance. without another word, he plunges deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “fucking perfect,” he grunts out, beginning to set a punishing pace. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting spots within you that make stars burst behind your eyelids.

a loud cry tears itself from your throat as he fills you entirely, stretching your walls deliciously. the sensation is overwhelming, causing your entire body to shake.

“oh, t-toji, baby..” you plead desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him even deeper if possible. every stroke hits just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you cling to him for support. you can't help but buck up to meet each of his powerful thrusts, desperate to take everything he offers.

he growls in approval, loving the way you claw at him as he pounds into your willing body. the sound of your cries and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust only spur him on.

“look at me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust, “want to see those pretty eyes when i breed you.” his hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him while he drives into you mercilessly. the slap of flesh echoes around the room, punctuating the symphony of moans and groans.

as he watches your face contort with pleasure, toji leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling harshly before soothing it with a flick of his tongue. you obey instantly, meeting his gaze with wide, lust-filled eyes. the combination of his commanding presence and the raw pleasure he's giving you leaves you breathless.

“oh fuck, toji...” your voice trails off into a series of broken whimpers as he teases your nipple. the dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his teeth grazing your sensitive bud send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

your inner walls clench around him involuntarily, trying to milk him for all he's worth. but it's clear that you're far from finished; there's still so much more you want from this dominant man.

feeling your walls flutter around him, toji can't hold back a satisfied grunt. he releases your breast with a pop, watching as a bead of blood appears where he'd been sucking. “good girl,” he praises, slapping your thigh lightly for emphasis, “keep coming for me.”

with renewed vigor, he starts slamming into you harder than before. each thrust goes deeper than the last, aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your vision. the bed creaks under their combined weight as he picks up speed, driven by pure instinct and carnal desire.

the sharp sting of pain from his bite quickly gives way to intense pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. your body bows off the mattress with each brutal thrust, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation.

“o-oh god, oh god!“ you whimpering, your voice hoarse from crying out in ecstasy. your mind blanks, consumed solely by the primal urge to be filled, claimed, bred. you lock your ankles behind his back, using every ounce of strength to pull him impossibly deeper. your hips rise to meet his, creating a frenzied rhythm that threatens to shatter you completely.

the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him, urging him on, pushes roji closer to the edge. he feels your body tensing beneath him, signaling that you’re nearing your climax. “that's it,” he encourages through gritted teeth, “come for me, show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”

his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. the thought of filling you with his seed fuels his arousal further. “going to breed you so good,” he vows before capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss. the intensity of his words coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts sends you spiraling into oblivion. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“i'm cumming!“ you cry out, your body convulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you. your juices coat his shaft, slickening the path for him to find his own release. your inner muscles clench and unclench rhythmically, milking him for all he’s worth. you can barely form coherent thoughts; all that remains is raw, animalistic pleasure.

feeling your pussy spasm around him triggers toji's own climax. with a guttural roar, he buries himself to the hilt and unleashes a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. “take it all, my wife,” he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he pumps you full of his essence. the sensation of his cum flooding your womb sends shivers down his spine.”

as the final pulses of his orgasm subside, toji collapses onto you, his heavy chest heaving against your own. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, marking you with gentle bites and whispers of praise. panting heavily, you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. feeling toji's warm seed fill you to the brim brings a sense of satisfaction and completion.

“handsome,” you murmur contentedly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. embracing the intimacy of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he recovers. your bodies remain joined, the evidence of his claim still dripping from your entwined forms.

toji hums in pleasure at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, savoring the taste of your skin.

“mmm, you're beautiful too, the most beautiful,” he murmurs, slowly rolling you to your sides. even in this position, he remains buried inside you, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. gently, he begins to rock against you, stirring the mix of his cum and your juices within your shared depths. he action sends pleasant tingles through both of you, prolonging the intimate connection.

“this was perfect,” he says, his voice low and satisfied, “just what we both needed.”

your body responds eagerly to his movements, each subtle shift reigniting the embers of pleasure within you. you let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the lazy rhythm you've fallen into. “it was...more than perfect,” you agree, a smile curving your lips despite the exhaustion settling in. the tender affection mixed with the lingering heat of your lovemaking leaves you feeling cherished and utterly fulfilled.

as the minutes stretch on, you find yourself reluctant to break away from this sweet, languid closeness. it's moments like these that make you realize just how deeply you adore your husband— in every way imaginable.

toji gazes at you adoringly, taking in the blissful expression on your face. he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light and reverent.

“i love seeing you like this,” he confesses softly, “satisfied and happy in my arms.” he pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “i think it's time we started planning our family, don't you? we could have a few more little ones running around, keeping us busy and on our toes.”

the suggestion is made with a playful glint in his eye, but there's an underlying seriousness to his words. toji wants to build a life filled with love, passion, and children— and he intends to start that process soon. at the mention of starting a family, your heart swells with joy. the idea of carrying another child conceived in such passionate, loving circumstances fills you with excitement.

“you know i've always wanted that,” you reply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “a house full of laughter and love...and maybe some mischief too, maybe later,”

the prospect of growing their family together stirs something deep within you. not just physical attraction, but emotional commitment— a bond forged not only between lovers but also parents-to-be. “but for now,” you continue, tracing idle patterns on his chest, “let's just enjoy this moment. our private paradise.”

hearing your agreement, toji smirks, his eyes sparkling with delight. he captures your wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“a private paradise sounds ideal,” he agrees, nipping gently at your fingertips, “but i suppose we should get moving eventually.” despite his words, there's no urgency in his tone. Instead, he seems content to simply stay here with you— lost in each other's company until reality comes knocking.

“but first,” he adds, pulling you closer until your breasts press against his chest, “i need to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.”

a soft chuckle escapes your lips at his declaration. the idea of being thoroughly satisfied by your husband is quite appealing indeed. “oh, i think i am,” you purr, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the residual ache left by their earlier activities, “but if you insist...“

you arch your back slightly, pressing even harder against him. the sensation of his semi-hard member still nestled inside you sends delightful sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. “just one more round?” you tease, batting your eyelashes playfully.

toji's smirk widens at your teasing words, his dark eyes gleaming with lustful intent. he rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you with a predatory grace.

“one more round it is then,” he declares, beginning to move again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. his renewed thrusts are slow and deliberate, designed to draw out every last drop of pleasure from both of you.

each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. the combination of his weight pressing down on you and the steady rhythm of his hips driving into yours creates an intoxicating blend of sensations.

“and when we're done,” he promises huskily, “we'll start planning our future...together.”

#toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #anime smut

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poisonf0rest · 28 days ago

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Intertidal Zone

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

♱⋅── about: Nightly Rendezvous card, but now we finally understand why rafayel was so desperate when he came back to the hotel room.

♱⋅── word count: 6.7k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, porn with some plot, the belt scene, slight exhibisionism, sooo much kissing, slight oral fixation, Lemurian mating bond, needy raf

art credit to @/khouxy on instagram

You swear Rafayel is doing this on purpose.

The first time it happens is right after your flight, the two of you only just managing to check into your hotel and change for dinner.

It's a fancy restaurant overlooking the vast desert, and the outdoor patio offered a clear view to gorgeous sunset. Furious spirals of orange and vermillion cast their light across the sand, making it appear to glow as winds kick up waves of golden dust along the horizon.

It’s beautiful, almost as much so as the man across you, who is still staring longingly into the distance as though committing every color to memory. As if repainting it entirely in his mind.

Not hues of warmth, but those of the deep sea. Blues and purples and colors so dark they’d only come to life in the night.

“How’s your drawing?”

Rafayel sighs at your voice, tossing his pen across the dinner table with a huff before leaning back against the sofa. A stack of crumpled sketches litter your table among half-finished plates of food. He insisted on traveling here to relax, and yet he seems to be doing everything but.

“If a few lines count as a drawing, then wonderfully.” Sassy as ever.

He sighs again, but this one sounds more pained, and you notice the red tinge highlighting his ears and neck as he leans against your shoulder.

“You still don’t feel good?” You ask, voice hushed as you place a kiss against his temple, the skin burning beneath your lips. Raising a hand, Rafayel immediately nuzzles into your palm as you pull his chin up towards you, feeling the rising temperature along his cheek and forehead. “We can head back if you’d like. Take a bath, or shower?”

You hoped the together was implicit by now.

But Rafayel only nods, placing a chaste kiss against your exposed shoulder. “What about the sunset? I saw you admiring it, and squandering a beautiful view is unacceptable for an artist. It’s one of the greatest offenses.”

Rafayel’s breath is minty and dry against your ear, and when you turn to look at him, his face is doused in the fiery hues of the sunset, each one casting deep purple shadows that only make his features all the sharper, half his face veiled in darkness.

Some days you wish you were an artist as well, if only to capture moments like this—to show Rafayel just how gorgeous he was.

Perhaps it’s only natural for a god. After all, no mortal could ever need beauty so violently arresting, so worthy of worship.

You’re leaning in despite yourself.

Rafayel meets you halfway, one hand on your waist as the other traces your jaw and bottom lip. But as soon as you feel the brush of his lips across yours, he pulls away.

You open your eyes in confusion. Rafayel’s never denied you before.

When you look at him in question, he only gives you a tired smile and pulls you to your feet with a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Sorry. I’ll feel better as long as I’m close to you like this.”

The second time it happens is when the hotel reception mixes up your and Rafayel’s rooms, leaving you to deliver some sort of formal invitation to him.

But the letter is soon forgotten; you can’t be bothered thinking about it, not when Rafayel still looks so absent.

He’s right next to you, knees brushing yours as you sit side by side on the couch, and yet he seems to be miles away, gazing out the window as the dunes shift and rise like waves under the moonlight.

"I used to really enjoy scenic spots before," Rafayel says, voice barely rising above the hum of the heater. "Catching sights of subtle things that might be easily overlooked used to feel like enough. More satisfying than finishing a painting, even."

A laugh. Dry, humorless.

His fingers grazed the edge of his glass, tracing the condensation absentmindedly. A droplet trails down his wrist. "But now, sometimes, I forget why I even decided to travel in the first place.”

You watch him, waiting. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

"I think," Rafayel continues, "somewhere along the way, I stopped just... noticing things. And I started needing them. Like the world wasn’t worth looking at unless I could turn it into something. Capture it, hold it in my hands, and call it mine." He shakes his head, a shadow of a smile crossing his lips. "It’s not a very generous way to live, is it?"

"You don’t need to be generous with everything," you say carefully. "Some things are just... for you to enjoy."

"Enjoy," he repeats, like the word doesn’t quite fit in his mouth. A pout. "It doesn’t feel like enjoyment anymore. It feels more like... hunger.”

Like he’s always fucking starving.

Rafayel finally turns to look at you, eyes eclipsed in the dark. Nearly dilated black.

“Sometimes I’m afraid that if I feed it, it’ll only grow worse.”

You turn to face him on the couch, sliding your leg between his thighs before perching yourself on Rafayel’s lap. It’s not lost on you how his heartbeat picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly as each shallow breath hits your lips. Perhaps it’s cruel, but you can’t help but touch him again, fingers tracing his full lips, up his jaw, fluttering against his eyelashes and into his hair.

“You think hunger gets worse when you feed it?" You finally ask, voice quiet, slow, daring to push back. "Doesn't it stop when you're full?"

Rafayel’s mouth quirks, a sharp, fleeting twist of a smile. "Not always. Sometimes it makes you realize just how much more you want. Or how much more you could take."

You frown. “You’re not demanding anything. Not from the world, not from me."

"Maybe not yet. But, if one day, I become someone who only takes… If I were like that, would you leave me?"

The confession hangs for a moment, the truth of it hidden. Something about the way his shoulders tense under your touch— like he's bracing for something, but it hasn’t yet arrived. A phantom pain from centuries ago, and a pain to come for a thousand years more.

“Silly fishie, I’d never leave you.”

Rafayel smiles in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty.

“Thank you…” he hums, finally pulling you closer as his lips skim alongside the curve of your neck. “for accepting me the way I am.”

His breaths come out in desperate huffs against your skin, and he inhales sharply, freezing, before finally placing a kiss against the crook of your neck. And then another, and another.

“You’re just anxious,” you whisper, sucking a mark into Rafayel’s neck as he moans so sweetly against your ear. “I can help you relax.”

You wiggle your hips to better balance yourself on his lap and Rafayel looks almost near tears, one hand forcing you still while the other grabs your wrist, trailing kisses from your fingertips back up to your neck.

More. You need more. Rushing, your hands fly up into his hair, about to tug Rafayel to lay down on the couch when a crack echoes behind you.

The glass lays shattered against the floor.

Panting, Rafayel stares at the spilled water for a long moment before pulling away. You feel his erection digging into your thigh, the warmth of his fever spiking yet again as his skin burns against yours, yet he still refuses.

“As you said, I’m anxious…” Still panting, Rafayel picks you up, gently lifting you up as he stands from the couch. “Or, more like restless. In every sense of the word.”

The need in his eyes almost makes your knees buckle. He looks at you like you’re the only thing he could ever crave, like a bite would both be salvation and leave him hungry forever.

“But see, now I can’t stand the idea of letting you go again, and you don’t want me to either.” He sets you down just a little farther than necessary, but his hands don’t leave your waist, trembling, waiting. “What should we do?”

“Rafayel…” You want him. You want him so badly it hurts.

“Fuck.”

You nearly jump at that. Rafayel curses again, his head falling onto your shoulder as his breath hitches. “I can feel your concern. That and…” another convulsion, his body burning up. “Fuck. You have to leave.”

You don’t even have time to retort before you’re pushed out of his hotel room, and the door slams shut behind you.

By the third time, you know something is wrong.

It’s not that you and Rafayel haven’t kissed yet. Hell, you’ve had sex before. The last time was quite literally on the night before you were supposed to leave for this trip. Obviously, Rafayel suggested that you stay at his place for the night—insisting he was closer to the airport and getting an Uber would be quicker this way—and one thing led to another, as is what happens nearly every time Rafayel and you are left alone for too long.

But now it’s been nearly a week and Rafayel has barely touched you, let alone picked up on your not-so-subtle clues.

So yes, it's safe to say you’ve become rather pent up.

You’ve fallen asleep in the off-roader the two of you rented out for the day, bobbing up and down the dunes like waves flecked white not with seafoam but snow. There’s a chill as you drift off, but your dreams are anything but, plagued with memories of Rafayel.

His hands, deft and talented with a brush, are even more so when teasing your skin, knowing exactly how to trace delicate circles against your thighs before roughly curling into your cunt. His tongue, every smartass comment and teasing grin now silenced as he licks and sucks against your clit. His body, the warmth of it, bearing down on you with every thrust, or perhaps writhing beneath you as you take him again and again and again—

It’s the cold that wakes you up.

Your eyes flutter open, first noticing the dim light of the hotel parking lot, and second, the burning desire still aching between your legs.

“Rafayel?”

A shuffle makes you turn, and you find said man still seated in the driver’s seat, unbuckled as he sits with his head resting on his hand.

“Yes, cutie?” Rafayel’s tone is teasing, but the way he stares down at you feels like anything but. The hunger is back.

Sitting up, you clear your throat. “How long have I been asleep? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You seemed like you were having such a nice dream, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You inhale sharply. Glaring, you try and see if he’s teasing again or being serious, but Rafayel doesn’t let you read him for long, already leaning over the middle console.

He places his lips gently on your temple, brushing over the skin, and then moves down to your cheek, his breath warm against your neck. He whispers your name, so softly you almost think it was a trick of your imagination.

Your mind goes blank when he kisses your jaw, a small noise escaping the back of your throat as you feel his hair tickle your skin.

"Raf," you mumble under your breath, but you know he hears it because he exhales sharply against you.

Rafayel trails a series of kisses up your neck, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, cutie." His body temperature is rising again, and the air in the van feels dangerously thin as he sways in your grasp. "I'm trying."

The hunger is back, all-consuming and hot as you genuinely fear you might burn up. A wave of dizziness washes over you, and you finally cup Rafayel's jaw, leading him towards your lips.

Yet again, he stops you halfway.

“Do you want to go back to your room first?”

At first you think he’s suggesting moving there before continuing, but you know better at this point.

“You’re not coming with me?”

Rafayel pulls out the invitation from before, waving it between the two of you as if all this was the letter’s fault. “I still have to attend my friend’s salon thing.”

“But you’re still burning up! Forget this, I can’t let you go out to who knows where when you’re still acting strange. Maybe we can see a doctor—”

“Cutie…”

“—No, no. Or maybe I can come with you.”

Rafayel says your name this time. Firmer. Cutting off your rambling as he places his forehead against yours.

“Do you want me to turn into a sea creature that’s beached on the sand after the ocean recedes? Leaving me to suffocate when I come out of the water?”

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, feeling his desperation in every word even as you struggle to make sense of it.

Rafayel continues, pulling away from you again. “Don’t you trust me? How about we make a promise?”

“What kind of promise?”

A smile. “I promise… I’ll be okay without you tonight.”

There’s no joke, no hidden meaning, just Rafayel who so violently hopes that this promise will hold true.

So you relent. “Okay, just take care of yourself.”

Finally, Rafayel opens the car door, letting the desert night winds sweep in with a biting chill as he leans back against the driver’s seat. He lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “You can head back. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rafayel promised he’d be okay without you tonight, but you don’t think the opposite could hold true.

Not when the dizziness Rafayel caused remained. Not when you still feel the phantom touch of his lips and hands all over your body, burning you up, leaving you cold and empty and aching.

You’ve been burning for the better part of a week now.

Something stuck between a laugh and a cry of pure frustration leaves you as you fall onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “This is pathetic.”

Even the damned sheets smell like Rafayel, pillows deeply laced with his shampoo and the smell of his cologne—amber, yuzu, and something salty like the ocean—surrounding you as though this were his hotel room and not yours.

Desert nights were cold, but even the room's chill could do nothing to quell your desire, arms shaking with it as you quickly stripped yourself of your shirt and bra. The room spins as you stumble around, leaving your clothes on the floor, another delirious whimper seizing you as you sprawl against the silk sheets.

You need him.

Fuck, you need him, and you hate him for leaving you while the growing ache between your thighs threatens to swallow you whole.

The sheets are deliciously cool against your flushed skin, and you turn your head to rest your cheek in the cool embrace of the pillow. But it only needs a second to heat from your desire.

And then the room is all too hot once again.

Kicking off your pants, your hand snakes down your bare torso, leaving half-hearted squeezes to your breasts and hips, failing to replicate the touch Rafayel already has you addicted to. The memory only makes you more frustrated.

A hand slips beneath your soaked underwear, and fuck, you’re dripping enough to ease your fingers in already. You force yourself to slow down, rubbing slow circles around your entrance, the mere friction enough to have your hips bucking up against nothing.

Inhaling sharply, you slide a finger into your weeping cunt, a moan pushing from your lungs as you do. Not enough. It’s not enough.

You force yourself to draw each movement out, the curl of your wrist accompanied by your muffled cries and the slick, obscene sounds echoing alongside your ragged breath. Withdrawing your finger nearly to the fingertip, two plunge back in this time, and your back arches off the bed with violent tremors as you imagine it was Rafayel's hand instead.

How he’d tease you in the early mornings to wake you up, how he’d take special care of every sensitive spot on your body, how he’d draw his fingers along your clit just the way that will make you come undone.

And as your fingers find that sensitive bundle of nerves, the way you cry his name into the empty room is no different.

Your head is spinning, falling, your thighs shake, and it's not long before you're gasping out, "Rafayel, please.”

Still not enough. Every rough thrust of your fingers brings you higher and higher, but without the pressure of Rafayel's chest pressed to yours, or his hot breath ghosting across your ear, his voice, his lips, his touch—

Without him.

A sob rips from your throat, your hips bucking uselessly against the air as you fuck yourself harder, deeper. But your fingers are only so long, and your free hand, fisting the sheets, is unable to make up the difference. "No, no please," a whine, and your free hand rushes to circle your clit, the other picking up pace.

You're close, so close, sobbing his name when the dizziness from the car returns tenfold, overtaking your body in waves as your eyes roll back. "Please, ah! Rafayel, m’cumming-"

The world goes silent as pleasure surges through you, muscles convulsing, a choked, garbled sound escaping as you come. Collapsing back against the sheets, you struggle to catch your breath, the stickiness of both the heat and your orgasm coating your thighs.

There’s another tug, a violent pull against your chest, but the dizziness remains.

You know you should change the sheets or at least move them aside, but you can’t manage to do either as you rush to shower before Rafayel returns from his friend’s exhibition.

It’s only when you stumble into the bathroom that you notice it.

Shit. This is Rafayel’s room.

You must be trying to kill him.

Surely, this is the gods' cruelest trial—a final test of his resolve—to see if he’d bow once more, forsaking divinity and succumbing to the temptation of you.

Because it’s been barely an hour, and Rafayel has already resigned himself from the party, passing blank smiles and empty compliments as he quietly counts down the minutes until he can return to the hotel, when suddenly he feels it.

The tug of your bond flashes through his body as his dick aches.

Rafayel freezes mid-sentence, the polite smile he'd been wearing slipping from his face. The conversation at the bar around him, something about chiaroscuro in the artist’s latest piece, become muffled static as the chains tighten, digging into his heart.

It’s unmistakable now. The rhythm, the rising intensity, the waves of pleasure that don’t belong to him but still manage to spark delirious heat up his veins.

Rafayel’s breaths quicken, body temperature rising as his Evol flickers out of his control. He glances around the room, feigning interest in the conversation, the glittering glasses of champagne, the faint hum of the crowd. It doesn’t work. The only thing he can focus on is you.

He should leave. Go outside, breathe in the night air, and let the tether between you both loosen, just to regain control. Just to prove to himself it’s not too late.

But the bond tightens, as invasive as it is intoxicating, demanding Rafayel’s attention like a leash coiled around his neck. It’s not gentle. It’s not kind. It’s primal, every nerve in his body pulled taut like you’re screaming his name over and over into the depths of his soul.

It’s not fair.

No god can deny the prayer of a worshipper.

Your pleasure becomes his, and when Rafayel closes his eyes, he swears he can feel your phantom hands on him, dick already heavy and throbbing, leaking through his expensive trousers.

Are you in bed, thighs trembling as you grind against your own palm? Or maybe the shower, steam curling around you as you chase release? Or worse—are you riding something of his? His shirt? His pillow? Is this vengeance a cruel punishment meant to shatter what little resolve he has left?

Shit. He’s hard.

“Hey man, what’s wrong? You good?”

The slam of a glass brings him back. Gods, he hates these rich socialites.

The champagne glass Rafayel was holding is now covered in cracks, blood trickling down his ring finger. He’s unraveling, composure fracturing with every pulse of your pleasure surging in and out as violently as a full moon’s tide.

Rafayel looks up, smiling. “Stress. And apparently a very needy pet.”

The man laughs at what he assumed was a joke, but Rafayel sees his hesitation, the type animals give when they pick up rustling in the bush. Fear.

Rafayel’s grin only widens, all teeth. “I should probably go check on her. Wonderful party,” he adds, lifting his glass in a half-hearted toast before setting it down with a sharp clink.

As he steps outside, the desert air does nothing to soothe him. If anything, the dryness makes it worse as the pull becomes sharper, like you’re reaching for him, your need coiling tighter around his chest.

A growl, almost feral, rumbles low in his throat as he staggers down the cobblestone streets. He doesn’t need directions. He doesn’t even need to think. His body moves instinctively, guided by the bond, by you.

Rafayel swears he can feel you all across his body, your heartbeat picking up as you get closer, the smell of your skin and arousal, the cries of his name that only become more and more desperate as you fail to bring yourself over the edge without him.

You’re begging for him in a way his bond mistakes for worship, because Rafayel’s body feels like it’s burning. Like blood spilled on his altar, an offering of yourself to your god, your husband.

The thought that you might be doing so unintentionally only drives him further into madness.

But, beneath the frustration, there’s something else. A glimmer of something Rafayel hates to name but knows all too well: relief.

Because as much as he might deny it, Rafayel could never leave you. And now that you’ve reciprocated, now that you’ve begged for him oh so sweetly, he would gladly submit to his bond and become chained to you once again, forever at your mercy, unable to escape the inevitability of his fate.

He doesn’t even knock when he reaches the hotel room door. It swings open under the force of his hand, and the sight of you standing there—wide-eyed, startled, only in a bath towel—hits him like a blow to the chest.

There's a soft click as Rafayel locks the door. A hurried shuffle of shoes as he all but stumbles toward you, closing the distance between you in one hurried, unstoppable motion. A startled gasp as he grabs your face in his hands.

It's the last breath you take.

An arm wraps around your waist, blocked by only a flimsy hotel towel as Rafayel violently spins you around. Your surprise is swallowed by his lips as you’re pinned against the window, the chill of the desert snow, frosted against the glass, a harsh contrast to the burn of his touch. His hand pins yours at the wrist as he stares down at your fingers.

“Rafayel? What are you doing here?”

The question barely gets out, not before he rushes forward to claim you in a kiss, if it was even that. A desperate, consuming need overtakes him, Rafayel pushing you back so insistently that your head hits the window with a thud, pain immediately distracted as his clothed knee grinds up between your bare thighs.

Holy fuck, just a towel. Right.

You try to push him back, one hand pressing against his chest as the other flies back to tighten the towel. “Wait–”

Rafayel kisses you again. And again. And again.

You can feel the cloth slipping.

But Rafayel makes it very hard to care. His hand traces your throat, your heartbeat, then drags you closer by your hips as he thrusts forward in time, still caging you against the window. He’s relentless, every kiss only broken with a ragged breath or gasp as though he’s given up on breathing entirely, content to consume you instead, his tongue sweeping against your lip before it coaxes yours to meet it halfway, licking and sucking into your mouth.

It’s obscene, animalistic, and you swear that there has to be something wrong with you because the dizziness is back, and this time it’s enough to make your knees buckle, the two of you blindly stumbling across the hotel room.

So you bite him.

“Why–” Breathe. Remember how to breathe. “Why are you here?”

Rafayel almost looks offended, thumbing his bitten lip before licking away the smudge of blood with a lopsided smile.

Fuck, he’s hard. You feel the heat of his cock jolt against your thigh, pressing into you as he surges forward again, kissing you as his hands squeeze and cup your waist, lifting you up.

"Why?" Rafayel laughs, roughly grinding up against you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his hips. "This is my room, remember? You’re the one who decided to come in here." He growls the last part, licking, biting, sucking at your throat.

“Or was that intentional?”

The look in his eyes is feral.

There’s no hesitation left, no half-riddled questions, no sweet praises, no semblance of your devoted lover. Just hunger. He’s rushing, pushing forward even with nowhere to go, almost in revenge. In punishment. Your teeth click together, foreheads bumping, unable to talk because when you try to open your mouth his tongue only slides in deeper.

The wet sounds echo against your ears alongside your racing heartbeat, only causing you to grind harder, rougher, before Rafayel ungracefully drops you onto the bed.

Your body bounces on the mattress, but it gives you a moment, and you scramble to cover Rafayel’s lips with your palm before he can begin devouring you again.

“What I meant was, shouldn’t you still be at that art salon?”

He all but collapses into your touch. Lips parted, he grabs your wrist, tongue darting out as he licks up your middle and ring fingers, moaning against your skin.

“I tried. I tried going, leaving.” He's panting, breathing in your scent before biting your palm. “But you called me back, you cruel, selfish human. And now I’ll never leave again.”

Your words come out between moans, unable to look away. “I called? I didn’t do—” You’re cut off as Rafayel licks up your skin, sucking lightly at your fingertips as his eyes, half-lidded and blown out stare down into yours.

Oh.

A hot flush of embarrassment seizes you and Rafayel must sense it because his eyes flutter closed. His hips snap forward, grinding his erection into the side of the bed, and he lets out a low whine.

Gods, the taste of your cum lingers in Rafayel’s mouth. Every dry swallow, every inhale, every damn breath tastes like you, and it makes him want to submit to every horrid urge and simply consume until—

“You don't think I know? Don't think I can’t tell?” Rafayel goes back to kissing your wrist, needing something more, something stronger. His hand ventures to the edge of your towel. ”Can feel everything you do, no matter how far away I go. Gods, I feel it, feel everything, and it drives me insane. Need you so bad, need to hear you, feel you, taste you..."

A shudder runs up Rafayel’s spine at the mere thought, and he can't stop himself anymore, leaning down to suck your fingers into his mouth, tongue curling around the digits, saliva coating your fingertips. He rips the towel from your body.

"Say you need me too," He’s begging, sinking down to your knees. "Say you need me just as badly. I–ah fuck—I can smell how much you want me."

Throwing the towel to the floor, Rafayel runs his hands down your chest, rougher, long fingers cupping and massaging your breasts as his mouth trails wet kisses down your stomach, his tongue dragging against the smooth skin, a clear goal in mind as he settles between your thighs, looking up at you as though you were a thing worthy of worship. His Goddess.

He’d offer himself to your alter time and time again. So long as he was the only one who got to bleed for you.

“Yes.” You’re already soaked, the sight of Rafayel panting between your thighs enough to have you babbling, ”Yes, Rafayel. I needed you so, so badly all week. Couldn’t help m’self, please.”

He freezes at that, pouting. “Right, you already came, didn’t you. So mean, cutie. Leaving me out.”

Before you can argue, Rafayel dips his head, dragging his tongue up your cunt before sucking roughly at your clit.

Your legs thrash above his shoulders. “Ah– wait, not so!” It’s too much too soon. Still sensitive from your prior orgasm, your back arches violently off the mattress, but Rafayel pays it no heed, deaf to your cries as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, drool and slick connecting his lips to you in sticky strands even as he pulls away just far enough to talk.

“She’s already so sensitive, s’not fair,” he pouts, mouthing against your thigh as he flicks your throbbing bundle of nerves. You jolt, gasping at the sharp jolt of pain. At the same time, Rafayel fucks his tongue into your cunt, just barely dipping in before he moves back to rub nonsensical patterns on your clit. “But this is mine. I don’t want you touching it without permission anymore.”

Fuck, if you had any semblance of a coherent thought you would have argued, maybe even laughed at the sheer audacity of the man.

Instead, all you can manage is a pathetic whine of his name, because the strange swirls and harsh lines he’s licking into your clit aren’t patterns at all but letters, spelling something over and over and over again.

R-A-F-A-Y-E-L-R-A-F-A-Y-E-L-R-A-F-A-Y—

The ring of the hotel phone buzzes from the nightstand. It’s the artist whose party Rafayel left only minutes ago.

“Tch,” Rafayel scoffs in annoyance, whiping his chin as he goes to decline the call.

But this gives you a moment to breathe, and all you can think of is getting revenge. Especially on the bastard who tried to take Rafayel from you tonight.

“Wait,” you grab his wrist. “You’re just going to hang up? What if it was something important?”

Rafayel turns to you with narrowed eyes, knowing there’s no good intent behind your wicked smile. It turns you on more than you can admit, the sight of his glare, mad at both the call and you interrupting his feast. But Rafayel can't deny you anything and does as he’s told, pressing accept.

“The guest of this room is unable to answer. Please leave a message.”

Instantly, you have Rafayel on his back.

His neck looks far too bare, and you climb onto his lap, enjoying the way his pulse kicks up under your palm.

Ripping his shirt’s buttons off, you begin biting dark spots down the pale expanse of his chest and neck. You’re about to aim right for the glowing mark on his chest when the phone beeps again, playing a voice recording of a clearly very drunk man.

“Why did you leave, bro? Come back here r’now. One more round of drinks a—” Incoherent laughter and sounds of clinking glasses.

No. No, Rafayel’s not allowed to leave you, not again.

You don’t know where the fear comes from, but you force yourself closer on top of him, breasts pressing into his abs as Rafayel shivers beneath you. Leaning down, you kiss the glowing mark atop his heart, admiring the way it flickers and glows when Rafayel bucks into your touch, moaning as you begin to nip and suck in earnest.

And then you’re flipped onto the mattress once more.

Rafayel’s heaving, arms trembling to keep himself up. Away. “...Are you sure?”

“If I don’t, then you might actually leave. What will you say if you’re asked why you didn’t go back?”

Rafayel smirks, and you catch a glimpse of fangs as he sits back on his knees. There’s a click, the rough sound of metal on metal as he undoes his belt, unzipping his trousers with one hand as the other cups the inside of your thigh, yanking it over his shoulder as he drags you down the bed. “I’m busy.”

And then he’s kissing you.

You’re lost, so hopelessly lost in each other that you fail to notice the phone beep once again, the monotone voice of the machine saying, “Please leave a message at the tone,” before flashing twice, still running.

Again, Rafayel seems to forget the concept of breathing, gasping into your lips as he ruts his hips into yours. “You’re not leaving me, right?” Fuck, he’s leaking all over his stomach, pre-cum splattering across your thighs.

“Never. I’ll never leave you, Rafayel.”

“Then tell me you’re mine. Tell me, please, please—hah—tell me and I’ll do anything, promise cutie, promise.” He’s all but gasping between kisses, cock trapped between his body and yours as he grinds forward, voice a pitch or so higher than it usually would be. “Say it, say you're mine, tell me, I need to hear it again."

He's talking in circles, rambling, the desperation in his voice palpable. Grasping the base of his cock, he sloppily fisting himself once, twice, before thumping against your entrance.

“I’m yours, Rafayel.” You writhe, grinding yourself up against him in hopes that he’s just hurry the fuck up.

“Again.”

“I’m yours, yours Rafayel.”

“Again, ah—again,” he’s nuzzling into your neck, lifting your leg higher and higher, pinning it to your head as he folds you into a matting press. Still, he refuses to press in, cock throbbing against your clit as he hugs you tight, every muscle in your body screaming in protest and pleasure. “Again, please, please.”

“I’m-” You’re either gasping or crying, words flooding out, ”Rafayel’s, I’m Rafayel’s.”

At that, Rafayel’s entire body convulses. He sobs, finally thrusting forward, bullying up into you bit by bit, forcing you to count every inch as the entirety of his weight bares down onto you.

You can feel the way his muscles shift, the way his arms bulge and contract as he holds himself above you, hips flush against yours. The desert air must be infecting him, because Rafayel is dripping sweat, flushed from his ears to his chest as he begins to pull out and slowly grind himself back in.

His voice is wrecked, breathless as he tries to kiss you, missing slightly as he sucks against your bottom lip, drooling. "I'm yours too, I'm yours." At the same time, his cock jerks in you, burying deeper with every filthy roll of his hips, throbbing against your sweet spots.

Then something snaps, Rafayel’s lips sealed back on yours, and the rhythm he sets is brutal.

Rafayel's cock drags over your walls, molding you in ways you never thought possible. Each thrust is hard, deep, and leaves you gasping, eyes rolling back into your head as you arch off the mattress, nowhere to go as his body folds yours damn near in half, weight bearing down on you.

It's all you can do to wrap your arms around him, nails scratching into his back, drawing thin lines of blood across his shoulder blades as you try to stay grounded, keep your mind from being swept away as the dizziness returns.

But the pressure building up in the pit of your stomach makes it hard.

Harder still as Rafayel begins mumbling into your lips, the filth pouring from his mouth making you clench, cunt fluttering around his cock as he pounds into you.

He can see and feel everything like this. Unable to look away from your face only inches away, watching every expression with love-drunk eyes, hugging you closer, fucking you harder.

"Can feel you, can feel you getting tighter. You're close right? Say you're close, please, mhm fuck." he's panting, and if you focus hard enough you can hear the sloppy noises of him sliding in and out, wet and obscene, the harsh slap of his balls against the curve of your ass.

But then Rafayel’s pushing himself lower, your legs dangling uselessly in the air as his chest is pressed so tight against yours you can barely take a breath.

"You're mine, only I can touch you like this, feel this. My wife. Say it, say you're mine, wanna hear it, please. Please, ah, I’ll do anything, say it."

He's barely pulling out anymore, resigning to quick, deep grinds as though he can’t bear to part.

Too uncoordinated to kiss you, Rafayel's head falls to your neck, sobbing into your marked-up skin before messily kissing atop the bruises.

"Yours. Yours. I'm yours, your wife," the words spill from your lips before you can even think, and Rafayel nearly passes out trying to stop himself from cumming then and there.

It’s like you’re trying to milk him, hugging him closer and ankles wrapped around his neck as he’s lifting your hips right off the bed. But now he needs to see it.

Needs to know the way you'll cry out his name, how your eyes will glaze over and roll back into your head, the way your chest will heave, the sweat that will pool at the valley between your breasts, the way the skin will flush from a soft pink to a burning red as you lose yourself in the feeling. To him.

It's the only thing he's able to concentrate on, the only thing he's able to think of. The feeling of your body beneath him, the sound of his name on your lips.

And that alone is enough.

Rafayel’s orgasm is sudden, a jolt of pleasure that surges up his spine with enough intensity to have him collapse, pinning your body beneath him. You can feel it, the way his cum splatters against the walls of your womb, painting your insides, filling you up until the excess squirts out around his cock and your intertwined thighs. He can't stop his hips, can't stop the way he grinds his pelvis against yours, trying to get deeper and deeper still.

"Mine, mine, mine," is all he can say, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he watches the way your body twitches, a mixture of sweat and cum painting your body as you nearly pass out in exhaustion. "Gonna- gonna fill you up, fuck, so pretty, my pretty girl, pretty wife, gonna make sure it sticks, so I’ll never leave. So you’ll never leave me again."

You're cumming.

He can feel the way your cunt spasms, the way your walls lure him back in, the way you tremble and shake as you throw your head back with tears.

Rafayel can't stop himself from leaning down and biting, teeth sinking into the crook of your neck, his hands grabbing at any bit of flesh he can find. All the while he fucks you through your orgasm, the mess of fluids creating the most obscene noises as they squish and bubble out, pooling out from between your bodies.

As you’re swaying in and out of reality, you think you see it. A field of red flame lilies, a poison so sweet that when you drink it, you lick your lips and thank the gods.

God. Just one, the one of the sea and the flaming sun.

The one who's still kneeling before you.

The one who you love.

"Maximum voicemail length reached, recording sent."

♱⋅── a/n: Uber now canonically exists in the lnds universe, thanks. Also, I would have included the absolutely gut-wrenching aftercare included in the card with MC asking Rafayel to sing for her, but honestly I would not change that scene in the slightest and am content to believe that is exactly what happened next.

Oh the things I’d give to hear Raf sing~

#𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓 writes #nightly rendezvous #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lnds smut #l&ds smut #l&ds rafayel #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #intertidal zone #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #lnds #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #lnds rafayel

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nataliedecorsair · 3 months ago

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I wanted to give you some of Pticenoga's Borderlands AU backstory, how she was raised by Shade and before starting her shenanigans with Vaughn.

Plus a bonus comic about how she decided to set up a meeting for Vaughn and Shade, but didn't tell Vaughn who is supposed to be there x) Mostly because Vaughn has met Shade before in his macabre World of Curiosities museum and thought that Shade is too weird for him. Well, that's the kind of person that would raise a feral harpy siren, gotta deal with it!

When she was very young, nothing bothered her much as she was just a wild baby exploring the world x) And Shade was a good father figure to her. However, as she grew older, she realized that she doesn't really "fit in": yeah, Pandora is a crazy planet, but not every person there is crazy. There are plenty of "regular folk" like Shade or other people from their town - and many others. And she was frequently called a monster, a mutant and many other things by the regular kids and even adults. She was wild though, could bite them or fight with them in a pretty feral manner, and, even though she protected herself, it didn't help the situation much. She wasn't crazy enough (and too small) to fit in with the psychos or bandits, was "too human" for actual monsters living on Pandora, and for a long time she had no idea she was a Siren, as even for Sirens she looked too different. Only when she hit her teens, she was able to confirm that she is one, started using her powers, and in her human form she could see the full extension of the glowing pattern she had on her skin. She still, however, didn't know why she wasn't born "normal", and there were no older Sirens around.

At some point, she decided to become independent and live on her own. Her "wild" upbringing was helping that a lot, and she felt fine being away from people. She'd still visit Shade frequently, of course, and at some point she'd even met Zer0 and could hang out with him for some time. As Zer0 is a mystery himself, they had some common ground between them (though constantly listening to his haiku were exhausting xD). Sadly, Vault Hunters attract attention, not always positive, and that was the reason why she got spotted by a big bandit gang (could be the beginning of Vallory's gang, but before she took over). And local scientists like Tannis already declared that there may be some connection between Sirens and the Vaults. And they noticed that she's a Siren, but also pretty young (and dumb). After the first Vault on Pandora was opened, there was plenty of weird and valuable stuff around, but it wasn't so easy to get it when you're just regular bandits. And when Eridians, the aliens that are guarding the Vault, are everywhere. The Sirens like Lilith were too strong for them, and hiring a Vault Hunter is expensive, so they decided to wriggle into her favor and use her to gain access to the area. She didn't know she was dealing with bandits first, she naively thought it's a rare case of nice fellows just wanting to be friends and such, plus the Vault could have answers about her origin, and the new "friends" confirmed it.

At some point, she realized she was being used, and got into a fight with the bandits - and lost, as there were too many of them, and she had too little experience, and they knew about Shade. She got kidnapped and told that she'd do everything they told her to do, or they'd kill Shade, so she had to obey. She helped them to fight the way to the Vault and get some of the riches, and during the process she felt that she really does have a connection with Eridians - they boosted her powers and helped her to get free, and kill every presenting member of the gang. She was worried about Shade though, so she left immediately to find him before the remaining members found out what happened and could harm him. But she was too late - the water source in their town of Oasis was poisoned, and every single person there died. Except Shade though - he lasted longer, but dehydration made him insane, and he turned corpses into the stuffed dummies he could talk to (though she didn't have much of a problem with this part). As she was gone for at least several months, he didn't believe she's real, and she had to adapt to the new reality.

She never got back to the Vault after that as she felt it was a source of more trouble than anything good (in her view, the price was too much for a bunch of physical stuff).

That lasted for years, and became a bit easier as her powers, enhanced by the Eridians, wasn't only serving the destruction, but could eventually "heal" some part of Shade's mind, so the moments of clarity became more frequent (she didn't know it's the reason, though). And you still need money, whether you like it or not, so, when Shade decided to use his World of Curiosities as a spot of illegal deals and smuggling, she didn't resist, but would watch over him in the shadows in case something goes wrong.

Eventually, she calmed down and just embraced herself. And, after some time, she met Vaughn, whose personal struggles she could sense right away, as she had to experience "being different" herself.

#artists on tumblr #digital art #pticenoga #vaughn #shade #art #vaughn borderlands #shade borderlands #tales from the borderlands #borderlands AU #harpy #siren #woman #monster #original character #character development #nataliedecorsair #natalie de corsair

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xhyjin · 2 months ago

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heian era sukuna as a husband!

husband sukuna! who first saw you by the river near your village, washing your hair under the soft glow of the setting sun. the peaceful moment didn’t last long; one of his cursed spirits emerged from the shadows, plucking you from the water like prey and tossing you onto his horse. before you could even scream, you were taken to his cursed shrine high in the mountains, a dark and eerie place where countless other frightened girls from distant villages had been gathered, all trembling in the presence of the king of curses.

husband sukuna! who you had heard countless stories about him in your village, the king of curses, a monstrous being with unmatched power. you always thought they were just myths to keep children from wandering too far. yet, when you finally saw him in all his terrifying glory, his four arms and four sets of piercing eyes radiating an otherworldly dominance, fear wasn’t the first thing you felt. instead, it was curiosity. unlike the other girls who cowered and sobbed, you couldn’t help but step closer and ask, “can i touch you?” your boldness caught him off guard, the faintest flicker of intrigue crossing his face, a reaction he hadn’t shown to anyone in centuries.

husband sukuna! who found himself so intrigued by how someone like you, so small, so mortal, did not tremble in fear. instead, your soft hands reached out, touching his face and arms as if he were some kind of untouchable deity carved from stone, not the monstrous king of curses. he didn’t even realize he had agreed to let you touch him until your fingertips brushed against his skin, your curiosity pulling him into a moment he couldn’t understand.

husband sukuna! who picked you out of all the other frightened girls, initially seeking only a concubine to satisfy his desires, but something shifted when he met you. there was something about your calm, unshaken presence that stirred something in him. you, unlike the others, didn’t cower in fear. you didn’t beg for mercy. your boldness, your curiosity; it intrigued him, and for the first time, he found himself considering you not as just another possession, but as something more. a wife, not a concubine.

husband sukuna! who throws the most lavish wedding the heian lands have ever seen, inviting even the emperor to show off his new wife, his queen of curses. it’s a grand event, full of gold, decorations, and luxury, but all eyes are on you, his chosen, the woman who stood by him, not as a fearful servant, but as his equal. you, his queen, now dressed in the finest clothes, a symbol of his power and the bond between you.

husband sukuna! who started to feel this strange pull every time you were near, like you were the only thing that could fill the emptiness in his heart. he didn’t understand it, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to keep you close, even if it meant pretending he didn’t care.

husband sukuna! who would rarely show it, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, like he was studying you, learning you. he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn to you, no matter how much he tried to act indifferent.

husband sukuna! who started questioning everything he knew about emotions, especially when it came to you. every time you were near, his heart would beat faster, and he didn’t know if it was anger or something else. he wasn’t used to feeling this way, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

husband sukuna! who, despite his power, couldn’t control the strange desire to protect you. he didn’t know why, but when danger approached, he felt this overwhelming urge to make sure nothing touched you, even if it meant putting himself at risk.

husband sukuna! who started seeking your company more often, even when it wasn’t necessary. he would pretend it was for something else, like business or duty, but deep down, he just wanted to be near you, to figure out what it was about you that made him feel this way.

husband sukuna! who never expected to find someone who could make him question everything, someone who didn’t fear him the way others did. you were the only one who didn’t tremble when he looked at you, and that intrigued him more than anything else.

husband sukuna! who, without realizing it, started to crave your touch. at first, it was just the occasional brush of your hand, but soon he found himself seeking out those moments, lingering just a little longer than necessary, wanting to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

husband sukuna! who never thought he’d want to spend time with someone like this, but with you, it felt different. he started planning small things just to see you. whether it was a casual walk or sitting together in the garden. he didn’t need a reason; he just wanted to be near you.

husband sukuna! when, during one of your strolls through the garden, you mentioned how much you loved roses (or any flowers you like) he made a mental note of it. the very next month, the entire garden was filled with roses, rows upon rows of them, in every color, and bloom. it was his way of showing you he was listening, even if he never said it aloud. the roses, a silent gesture of his affection, were now there just for you.

husband sukuna! who makes sure all your kimonos are made from the finest and silkiest silk, each one carefully chosen to complement your beauty. your combs, made from the finest bamboo, are crafted with delicate precision, perfect for brushing your long, flowing hair. he ensures that every little detail of your life is as luxurious as possible, from the softest cushions to the finest food, all to spoil you in ways you never imagined. every item, every gesture, is his way of showing how much you mean to him, even if he never says it outright.

husband sukuna! who found himself realizing just how head over heels he was for you when you had to leave his estate to visit your family in the village. the moment you left, an unexpected emptiness washed over him, and he realized how much he missed you already. it was then that he wondered, if I miss you this badly just when you’re at the village, what would I do if you were gone forever? he couldn’t shake the thought. you weren’t immortal like him, and the idea of losing you, someone so human, so delicate, filled him with a kind of fear he never expected to feel.

husband sukuna! who tries to figure out every possible way to make you immortal like him. he couldn’t imagine his life without you, and the thought of losing you one day terrified him more than he’d ever admit. he searched for solutions, delving into ancient texts and forbidden rituals, determined to find a way to keep you by his side forever. the idea of you growing old and leaving him, or even worse, being with someone else, was unbearable. he would do anything to make sure that never happened.

husband sukuna! who, after much searching, discovers that the key to making you immortal like him is by carrying his heir. his immortal blood would imprint on you and his child, ensuring that you would live on, as long as his bloodline continued. when you return, he is sure to tell you of his plan, his determination clear in his eyes. it’s the only way he can guarantee you’ll never leave him, and the thought of sharing his immortal legacy with you fills him with an overwhelming sense of purpose.

husband sukuna! who is the happiest man—or curse—alive when uraume tells him that you are pregnant. a rare, genuine smile spreads across his face, one that few have ever seen. the news fills him with a sense of pride and joy he’s never known, and for once, his usual calm demeanor cracks. the idea of you carrying his child, an heir to his immortal blood, makes him feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. it’s as if everything he’s done, all his power and control, has led to this moment. you, carrying his legacy, makes him feel more alive than he ever has.

husband sukuna! who spoils you rotten throughout your whole pregnancy, making sure you’re eating well and getting everything you need. he hunts himself, ensuring you have the freshest, most protein-rich food, and even arranges for the finest fruits to be delivered from the emperor’s lands. he may or may not have threatened the emperor into compliance, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was making sure you were well cared for and that nothing, not even a tiny discomfort, would touch you. your well-being was his top priority, and he would go to any lengths to ensure you and the baby were healthy.

husband sukuna! who doesn’t allow you to walk on your own, no, he has four arms for a reason. you’re going to be carried by him everywhere and anywhere. whether it’s across the estate or through the garden, he insists on carrying you in his arms, making sure you don’t lift a finger. he doesn’t care if it’s impractical or if anyone else thinks it’s too much, his only concern is making sure you’re comfortable and safe during your pregnancy, and he enjoys having you close to him at all times. no one else gets to have you but him.

husband sukuna! who has a small throne made for your baby, placing it beside his massive one. with your and his child’s thrones on either side of his, he feels a sense of contentment that he’s never known before. it’s a simple gesture, but it means everything to him, his family, his legacy, all sitting together with him in his domain. the sight of it fills him with pride, knowing that soon, your child will sit there beside you, carrying on his immortal bloodline. it’s the perfect symbol of everything he’s built, and it’s all for you.

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er1nne · 2 months ago

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rafe hates when you buy things without using his card

(do not copy or plagarize, original work) The Range Rover hummed quietly, its blacked-out interior wrapping you and Rafe in a cocoon of shadows and muted streetlights. It had been his idea to take you for a nail day—completely unprompted but not surprising. Rafe had a way of knowing when you needed a little spoiling, especially after the week you’d had. The air smelled like his cologne, something expensive and sharp, mixing with the faint scent of leather from the seats. You were reclined comfortably with both legs stretched out, your freshly painted white toes wiggling lazily as you scrolled through your phone.

Rafe sat in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. His thumb stroked absentminded circles into your skin while his sharp blue eyes flicked toward the darkened street ahead. Traffic was crawling, a sea of red taillights stretching endlessly ahead. Rafe didn’t seem too bothered, one hand resting on the wheel while the other stayed on your thigh. His thumb moved in slow, hypnotic circles against your skin, his blue eyes flicking between the road and the glow of your phone screen. He was calm—you liked him this way.

“What’s got you so quiet, huh?” His voice broke the silence, smooth but with an edge that always demanded your attention.

“Just trying to check out before everything sells out,” you mumbled, barely glancing up. You were busy, furiously tapping away as you finalized your cart. The latest House of CB drop was a battlefield, and you weren’t about to lose.

“Lemme see.” He leaned closer, his sharp gaze cutting toward your screen. When he caught sight of the digits you were typing, his brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. “Wait, is that your card?”

You paused, immediately bracing for what was coming. “Yeah? Why?”

Rafe let out a short, irritated laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You have all of my cards saved to your phone, and you’re using your own card? What the hell for?”

“It’s not a big deal, Rafe.” You kept your voice calm, like you weren’t trying to spark an argument in the middle of what was such a nice day. “It’s not like I can’t afford it.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Afford it?” he repeated, voice tinged with a certain tone to it. “Sweetheart, I literally pay for your life. Why do you even have a card? For decoration?”

You glared at him, but the faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrayed you. “Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” he cut in, shaking his head as if the idea itself was absurd. “What are you holding onto that thing for? Just in case I drop dead tomorrow and you suddenly need it?”

You huffed an air of annoyance as a pout covered your slightly glossed lips and starred out the car window. The car filled with an almost unbearable silence. His hand, which had been rubbing your thigh, went still.

He turned to glance at you a few times before looking back at the road, the corner of his mouth twitching with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “Afford-” he repeated again slightly scoffing, voice low and slow, like he was trying to decide if you were messing with him. “Do you even hear yourself?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaning slightly closer to his natural warmth. “It’s not that much.”

“To you. To me, that’s pocket change.” His fingers drummed a little harder against the steering wheel now, a restless energy creeping into his movements more obvious than ever.

“Rafe,” you started to whine, but he cut you off, shaking his head.

“Nah. Don’t start.” He turned fully to face you now, his hand lifting to cup your jaw, gently but firmly enough that you couldn’t look away. “Why do you always make this a thing? Is it so hard to let me take care of you? That’s why I’m here. To take care of you. You’re supposed to let me.”

Your resolve faltered under his intense gaze. He wasn’t just irritated—he was hurt. His words were a reminder, the same ones he’d given you before. Rafe wasn’t just possessive for the sake of it—he hated seeing you stress over anything, especially when he had the means to give you whatever you needed, whenever you wanted it. He didn’t want you holding onto burdens you didn’t have to carry. He’d told you before how it made him feel when you refused to lean on him, how he hated the idea of you ever struggling when he had the means to make your life easier. Rafe always told you how much he loved taking care of you, he felt proud to. Anything you ever want, he would give you, plus more.

“I’m not helpless,” you said softly, and it sounded weak even to your own ears.

“Did I say that you were?” he shot back immediately, his sharp blue eyes flicking from the road to meet yours. There was no trace of anger in his voice, just a steady, unyielding determination. “I know what you’re capable of. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze softening, though his tone stayed firm. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re mine, remember? So stop making it harder than it needs to be. Let me do my job.”

Even while navigating the slow-moving traffic, his focus on you didn’t waver. His eyes flicked back to yours, holding them for just a second longer than he should have, but long enough to make your heart skip a beat. You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the quiet conviction in his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Rafe…” you started. You stared at him for a long moment before finally relenting, handing over your phone with a quiet sigh. “Fine. Just this once.”

He smirked, already deleting your card details and replacing them with his own Amex Black information. The confirmation dinged almost immediately, and he handed the phone back to you, smug satisfaction written all over his face. “There. Easy. Now you’ve got your shit, and I’ve got my peace of mind.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, cheeks warming as you avoided his eyes.

Rafe tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. “Don’t thank me, baby. Just stop making this harder than it has to be. Just let me take care of you?” A small pout covered your slighly glossed lips as you responded to him in a small voice, "Okay."

“That’s my girl,” He smiled and leaned back in his seat, hand returning to your thigh as he glanced toward the street, his usual sharp focus slipping back into place.

You smiled slightly, your frustration melting away as you leaned into him. Because no matter how stubborn you could be, you both knew he’d always win in the end. And deep down, you didn’t mind.

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loveritas · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day 11 - Virginity Loss with Kento Nanami

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (protected), loss of virginity, oral (reader receiving), fingering, age gap (legal - reader is college age), soft nanami

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 10k (bear with me here, it’s slow)

a/n: i apologise in advance for how soft this is, it is sickeningly sweet and a heads up, the writing style of this is a little different to some of the prior ones i've posted here...it's less horny smut in the way its written and more wordy? so if this one's not for you, it's all good, sometimes i just like to mix it up <333

The cool October air nipped at your bare skin as you stood out front of the crowded house, your angel wings from your costume rustling softly in the breeze. The party was fun, but it was getting late, and getting home was an issue.

The problem was, you couldn't call your dad. He'd have too many questions, too many concerns about why you were out so late. Besides, the revealing nature of your outfit wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and you weren't in the mood to listen to a lecture.

Your phone hovered in your hand, a name already highlighted. Nanami Kento. Your dad's best friend, a reliable, quiet man you'd known for a couple years. He was the safest option honestly and maybe a part of you was pleased with the notion of calling him, of seeing him after the night's festivities. There had always been something about the way Nanami carried himself-so composed, so controlled, it left you curious.

You took one deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang only twice before his smooth steady voice came through the line. "Are you alright?" he asked instantly, as though he'd sensed something was wrong, just from seeing your number at this time.

"I'm fine," you quickly assured him. "It's just. I'm at a party, and it's gotten late. I need a ride, and I really can't call my dad soo….”

There was a moment of silence, stretching the pause to its limits as he finally replied. "Text me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Waiting around for fifteen minutes in the cold had your mind racing. All you could do was hope he wouldn't say too much about your outfit, a white dress a little too short, with wings fastened to your back and a halo precariously balanced on your head. It had drawn enough attention at the party already, though you'd shrugged it off with nervous laughter. Nanami was an altogether different story, though, and the thought of him looking at you like this made you feel nervous.

Sure enough, in exactly fifteen minutes, Nanami's black car pulled up in front of the house. You quickly headed towards it, heels clicking across the pavement. As soon as you opened the passenger door and slid inside, his eyes raked over you.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said softly, trying not to meet his gaze as you buckled yourself in.

But Nanami's silence was heavy, and you could almost feel the weight of his stare. He didn't say anything right away, eyes staying fixed on your outfit-the dress riding high on your thighs, the soft glow of your wings innocent. His jaw tightened slightly, a barely perceptible movement, but you noticed it.

"Of course," he finally replied, his voice gruffer than usual, with an edge to it. "But that's quite the costume."

You felt shy under his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "It's just a Halloween costume. You know, harmless fun."

"Harmless fun," he repeated, his eyes darting back to the road as he shifted the car into drive. But the way he said it-twisted something in your stomach, a tension building between you impossible to ignore.

Nanami didn't look away from the road, but his thoughts were far from innocent. He knew he shouldn't be looking at you like this, his best friend's daughter, in a dress that didn't leave much to his imagination. Yet, there was something outright magnetic in the way you looked tonight-the way soft fabric clung to your body, pure white of an angel costume contrasting sharply with the rising inferno inside him.

He gripped the wheel a little harder, his knuckles white. What was wrong with him? You were innocent, too young for him- but the way you moved, the way you shifted in your seat as if aware of how you were making him feel, it stirred something primal in him.

"Did you have fun?" he asked way too calmly, trying to distract himself.

You nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Just got too late, and well, you know."

He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing along the smooth skin of your legs and then up to your face, lit up in a soft glow from the passing streetlights. He tried to keep a clear head, act like he wasn’t losing his mind over being this close in proximity to you. It didn't help that the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you, sweet and inviting.

"Your dad doesn't know you're dressed like this," he said-half a question, half a statement of fact.

You shook your head. "No… he wouldn't exactly approve." There was a little, nervous laugh in your voice.

Nanami grunted in response. "He wouldn't."

The tension between you both grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotion until it was almost palpable in the cramped interior of the car. Nanami couldn't clear his head. What would your father think if he knew how hard it was for Nanami to keep his thoughts pure? How hard it was to pretend the sight of you, in that tight little dress, hadn't set something off inside him?

You shifted in your seat again, the hem of your dress rose just a little higher on your thighs to catch Nanami's attention yet again as he had to adjust in his seat.

The car hummed on silently, but it was obvious that he was trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the pull between you both, and for some reason, you decided not to make it easy for him.

You shifted a bit in your seat, letting your legs cross; the hem of your skirt inched up just a bit more. You caught the slightest tensing of Nanami's jaw out of the corner of your eye, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the road.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile. "You know," you said softly, a teasing edge creeping into your tone, "I've never seen you this quiet. You always seem so assured."

Nanami's brow furrowed and he let out a short breath. "It's late," he replied; the words were clipped, strained as if he wanted to force the conversation into something normal.

You weren't buying it. His body language betrayed him-tension in the posture of his body spoke volumes his words never did. You knew with just a little more prodding-a test of the waters-he'd crack.

You lifted a casual hand to your head to adjust your halo headband, your fingers delving through your hair to do so, before you laid your hand on your thigh, letting the fingers linger as you shifted again, angling yourself slightly toward him.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice soft and laced with something a little too sweet, a little too insinuating. "I guess I could've called someone else, but… I wanted you to be the one."

Nanami's hold on the wheel stiffened further, and you could almost hear the battle raging inside him. His eyes flickered sideways to you, only for a moment, before snapping back to the road.

“Really?" he growled, almost inaudible, the tone low, a little threatening.

You nodded, biting your lip as you leaned closer, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you adjusted once more. "Yeah… I feel safe with you.”

There it was, the first gap in his well-considered armour. He said nothing for a moment. It was as if every unspoken word weighed the air inside the car down and pressed on both of you with its unspoken weight.

Then, wordlessly, instead of turning down the street that would lead to your house, he turned left and went in the opposite direction. You blinked once or twice, peering out of the window just to confirm that he wasn't actually getting onto your usual route.

"Um. my house is the other way," you said light, though curious.

Nanami remained silent for another beat as the car sped through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rougher than before.

"I know."

Your heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down your spine at the implication: He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing. And instead of taking you home, he was detouring off course on purpose. A decision he had made despite the battle that had raged in his brain.

"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was just starting to formulate in your mind.

"My place." Nanami replied in a low voice, very nearly too calm.

Of course his words only had one meaning, and you paused for a second, the situation settling into your consciousness. It wasn't a decision he had only just now considered. He had thought about this, about you—and the barrier he'd held up for so long was starting to crack.

A part of you knew this might have crossed the line, a line neither of you could come back from. In the silence of the car, though, that pull between you became impossible to ignore.

You swallowed as your heart raced in your chest, shifting slightly in your seat as his words sank in. "Your place… are you sure?"

Nanami's grip on the steering wheel loosened, but only for a moment as he let a slow, conscious breath escape. He cast a look in your direction then, something dark in his gaze-a warning, and yet, something deeper, something feral. "No," he admitted in a low voice with a trace of growl. "But I'm doing it anyway."

His place. He was taking you there, and implications that sent your tummy fluttering into somersaults of excitement and uncertainty when he said so. There was no going back once you crossed this threshold.

The time quickly passed and it wasn’t long before the soft hum of the engine stopped, and all that could be heard was your quickened breathing.

Nanami turned to you; his eyes locked with yours. In them was an unspoken question. He wasn't forcing you; this was something you had to step into on your own volition.

You nodded at him and he nodded slightly in return before moving to open the car door for you. His hand was soft and warm in yours as he guided you out. He took you inside and towards the lift. The silence between you was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was charged, alive with possibilities neither of you could deny any more.

As the lift opened onto his floor, Nanami escorted you down the silent hall to his apartment. His steps were sure, steady, but you could feel the tension emanating off of him like a coiled spring ready to snap. He hastily unlocked the door before gesturing you inside.

You stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you into the quiet, dimly lit space. Nanami's apartment was sleek, minimalist, much like the man himself-clean lines, understated elegance. It was intimate, private, and the thought of being alone with him here made your skin tingle.

You turned toward him, soft light from the city filtering in through the windows and casting shadows across his face. He watched you once more, his eyes dark and intense. A silent war inside himself as he struggled to keep his restraint.

"You can still change your mind," he said, low and rough. "Sleep in the spare bedroom- and I won't push this any further."

Your eyes ran across his face, before meeting his gaze. Hal of you screamed to close the distance between the two of you, whilst the other half screamed to sleep in the spare bedroom and never look back on this moment.

But this wasn't about lust or desire; this was crossing a line, changing the dynamic between you both forever, but one you were ready to.

You leaned in towards him, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. You took note of the quick rise and fall of his chest and the fast beating of his heart under your fingertips. His eyes darkened, his control slipping just that little bit more as he watched you.

"I'm not changing my mind," you whispered softly, resolutely. "I want this."

Nanami exhaled sharply, the last thread of restraint snapping as he closed the remaining distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch just as gentle as you’d expected.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin, as if giving you one final chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

With a low growl, Nanami's lips finally crashed into yours. He kissed you passionately as if he had been holding back far too long. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as he pressed your body flush against his, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.

The kiss deepened, and all the tension and desire that had built between you finally exploded in a rush of heat and sensation. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you succumbed to the moment, to him.

One of his hands had clutched your waist as he leaned you up against the wall, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was quickly heating up; everything was going so fast. And though you'd expected it, you suddenly became nervous, not knowing what to do, so you couldn't help but blurt out…

“I’m a virgin-”

Nanami froze when you uttered those words, the revelation hanging in the air like a weight that neither of you could ignore. His lips lingered on yours, but the urgency that had driven his actions moments before seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression torn, conflicted. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, the tension coiling tighter inside him.

He should stop. He knows that.

"You're a virgin," he repeated softly, as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. The responsibility of what this meant sank in, his protective instincts roaring louder than his desire. The weight of his role in your life—being your father's best friend, older, more experienced—should have been enough to make him back away, to put distance between you for your own good.

But it didn’t.

Despite everything, despite knowing he should be the responsible one and walk away, the pull he felt toward you was undeniable. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, the conflict clear in his eyes as they searched yours. There was something about you—your trust, your innocence—that stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t easily shake off.

"I shouldn't.," he growled low and hoarse, yet with an edge, a residual hunger he could not hide. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply as if trying to draw himself back in.

But when he opened them again, his gaze darkened, the tension between you flaring back to life. You saw the conflict, the war between what he knew was right and what he wanted more than anything in that moment.

"I-” Nanami continued, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch still gentle despite the storm raging within him. "This changes everything."

You could feel the restraint, the repression, but you could also feel the resolve slipping. He was a man who prided himself on control, on doing the right thing-but right now, you were making him question all of that.

"I know it does," you whispered, stepping closer, your body brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch. "But I trust you. I want this… I want you."

Your words seemed to cut through to him, and for a long moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, something neither of you could deny any longer.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "If we do this," he said quietly, his voice low, serious, "There’s no going back. I need you to be sure. This is… not something I can take lightly."

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his eyes searching yours one last time, giving you the opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. You met his gaze, your hand resting over his heart, feeling its rapid thrum beneath your palm.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice steady, filled with the weight of the decision you had already made.

The last bit of tension left Nanami’s shoulders as he closed the distance between you again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity. But this time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if savouring every moment, every taste of you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, but there was no rush, no urgency. He was letting you lead, letting you set the pace.

As his hands moved over your body, exploring with careful restraint, it was clear he was holding back. Despite the fire between you, despite the overwhelming desire, he was still thinking of you, still making sure you felt safe, cherished, in this moment.

Nanami’s heart raced as he led you to his bedroom, the very act feeling surreal. Every step was imbued with a sense of gravity, as though the weight of the moment hung in the air around you, thickening with anticipation and vulnerability. He was acutely aware of the fabric of your outfit, how it hugged your curves and accentuated your delicate features, your halo headband adding to the angelic aura that surrounded you. It was intoxicating, and he felt the primal urge to claim you, to make you his.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing against the walls as the city lights filtered in through the curtains. Nanami could hardly breathe as he turned to face you, taking in the sight of you standing there—innocent yet undeniably alluring, a vision that pulled at the very edges of his sanity. You looked like something out of a dream, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. The conflict within him raged on, and yet, as he looked at you—his angel—he couldn't shake the selfish longing that consumed him. Despite knowing he didn’t deserve to indulge in this, he found himself wanting you more than anything else in that moment.

As you stood there, your gaze unwavering, your confidence shining through your innocence, it was clear you were ready to embrace whatever was to come. Nanami took a deep breath, pushing the guilt aside. He didn’t want to be the one to hold back your desires. Not when you were offering him a chance to explore this connection.

"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to frame your face. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

"Breathtaking," he whispered again, almost reverently. The weight of those words held true as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. The hesitation melted away, and he captured your mouth with his again, deepening the kiss with a fervour that spoke of his hunger, of his desire to claim you in every way possible.

His hands roamed over your waist, trailing down to your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer. There was a desperation in his touch now, a need to feel every inch of you pressed against him. He wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way your body fit perfectly against his, like you were made for him.

When he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a fire in his gaze that reflected the storm within him. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice a low rumble, though he knew what your answer would be. Deep down, he wanted to hear it, wanted the reassurance that you were truly ready to take this step with him.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with a confidence that both excited and terrified him.

With that, Nanami leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. It was both gentle and consuming, a collision of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. The world outside faded away as he lost himself in the sensation of you—the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on.

As he guided you back onto the bed, he felt the weight of his own insecurities creep back in. He was an older man, your father’s best friend, someone who was supposed to protect you, not take advantage of your trust. But looking at you, lost in the moment, an angel who was willing to give herself to him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. This was a gift, a chance to experience something beautiful with you, and he would be damned if he let that go.

There was a sense of awe in him as he looked at you, your innocence and trust in him making him feel both powerful and vulnerable. This was different from anything he had ever experienced before, and it left him unsure of how to proceed.

He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch tender and gentle. "I promise to take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with the sincerity of his intent.

You smiled up at him, your trust in him shining through your eyes. "I know," you replied, your voice soft and confident.

Nanami's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you lying beneath him, the white dress clinging to you. The fabric seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, accentuating your delicate features and the innocence that radiated from you. His heart swelled with a mix of desire and reverence, knowing that he was about to experience something truly special.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone. The taste of your skin, the subtle scent of your perfume, it all combined to create a heady sensation that made his head spin.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, mapping out the contours of your figure. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, and it only served to fuel the fire burning within him.

"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "An angel, sent just for me."

You shivered at his touch, your body arching into his as you sought more of his attention. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Nanami chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Patience, sweetheart. Let me savour this moment."

He helped you with his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. The sight of his muscular form and you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

Nanami groaned at your exploration, his hips pressing against yours, the evidence of his desire evident in the way his erection strained against his pants, pressing deliciously against your thigh. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you. He resumed his kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing you skin ever so slightly. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I want to worship every inch of you." he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

His hands slid down to your thighs, bunching up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your smooth skin. He took his time, savouring the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch.

You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the intensity of his desire, and it only served to fuel your own. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the way his heart raced beneath your touch.

Nanami's lips found yours again, his kiss deep and passionate, pouring all of his longing into it. He rolled his hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I want you," he breathed, his voice raw with need. "I want to make you mine, to claim you in every way possible."

He tugged at the fabric of your dress, his intentions clear, but something held him back. The thought of ruining the delicate garment, of marring your innocence, seemed sacrilegious.

Instead, he let his hands roam beneath it, his fingers teasing along your inner thighs, higher and higher, until he reached your panties. He could feel the heat from you, the dampness that betrayed your desire.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his fingers already circling your most clit through the cotton fabric. "Tell me you're ready for me."

Nanami's fingers continued to tease and explore, his touch both gentle and insistent. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding to his every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin. The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of your combined desire.

"I want this," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Nanami- Please, don't make me wait any longer."

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words, and he wasted no time in responding. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, exposing you to his hungry gaze.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate folds, feeling the slickness that coated your skin. "So wet, so ready for me."

He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. Slowly, teasingly, he trailed kisses up your leg, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He couldn’t help but grin at every slight shuffle from you as he moved closer to your pussy, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your shyness.

When he finally reached your core, he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.

You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. Nanami groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.

He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, before dipping lower to your entrance, tasting your essence. He alternated between licking and sucking, his movements slow and deliberate, building the tension within you with each pass of his tongue. “So fucking sweet-” he groaned.

Nanami's tongue continued its relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. As your pleasure mounted, he slowly eased a finger into your tight heat, his touch gentle and patient.

Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The pleasure was intense, building with each passing second, threatening to consume you entirely.

He worked you slowly, his finger pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot deep inside that made your toes curl. The sensation of his tongue and finger combined was almost too much to bear, and you could feel your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Such a good girl.”

He added a second finger, stretching you further, his pace increasing as he sensed your impending release. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, one hand working your clit while the other drove into you, stoking the fire that burned within you.

Your moans filled the room, your body writhing beneath his touch, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your body tensing as you neared your peak. “Come on sweetheart, give it to me.”

As he felt your body tense beneath him, your thighs trembling, he knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth and hands on your body, the pleasure consuming you entirely.

Nanami’s voice was soft but commanding. “That’s it,” he murmured, his words vibrating through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Let go, my angel. Give yourself to me.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, your body gave in. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name, lost in the intensity of the moment. He stayed with you through every pulse of pleasure, his mouth working you gently as your climax washed over you, prolonging the sensation by sucking on your clit until you could no longer take it.

As you came down from your high, your breathing ragged, Nanami slowly withdrew his fingers, placing soft kisses along your thigh before sitting up. His gaze was filled with adoration as he watched you recover, his eyes trailing over your body with reverence. “You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “I could worship you like this for hours.”

Nanami leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away the single tear that had escaped during your climax and he couldn’t stop his smirk, you were so sensitive and he’d barely even started. “Are you okay?” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with care, “I want to make sure I don't push you too far.”

You nodded, overwhelmed with emotion, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. "I just want you, Nanami," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

His gaze softened as he reached for his belt, slowly undoing the buckle, his movements deliberate. He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation, any uncertainty. But all he found was the same desire reflected back at him.

He smiled softly, leaning over to the bedside table and going through the drawer before retrieving a condom and some lube, ready to continue, but ensuring your comfort every step of the way.

Nanami’s hands moved with care as he opened the condom, his gaze still focused intently on you, as if each moment was something to be cherished. His heart raced, not just with the heat of desire, but with the overwhelming tenderness he felt for you. He wanted everything to be perfect—gentle, yet powerful in its intimacy.

The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was the weight of trust, the sacred bond forming between you as he prepared for what was to come. You felt it too, that sense of something so deeply meaningful, and it made your pulse quicken.

With the condom securely in place, Nanami applied a generous amount of lube as he soaked in the sight of your body beneath him, your silk dress still bunched around your waist. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and reverence as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, full of love and passion.

“I need you to tell me if you’re okay, if anything feels wrong,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with concern. “Do you wanna’ be on top? It might be better for you.”

You felt a surge of warmth in your chest at Nanami’s question, his consideration only deepening the intimacy between you. His concern was genuine, and it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. The idea of being in control, of setting the pace, appealed to you, especially with the softness and care in his gaze.

You nodded, smiling up at him, the anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes softened even further, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. With a gentle movement, he shifted positions, lying back on the bed, his strong arms helping you climb atop him. You straddled his hips, your hands resting on his chest for balance, feeling the heat of his body beneath your palms. The vulnerability of the moment didn’t make you feel exposed—it made you feel powerful, like you were in control, but still cradled in his unwavering support.

Nanami’s hands found your thighs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin as he looked up at you with reverence. “Take your time,” he murmured, his voice deep and comforting. “There’s no rush.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hovered just above his cock. You adjusted and the sensation of his hardness against your pussy sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing even wetter, your body more than ready for him. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the initial stretch making you gasp softly and you had to pause for a moment before taking a little more. Nanami’s grip on your thighs tightened just a fraction, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt you take him in, inch by inch.

You slowly took more of him in, feeling more of a stretch, a slight sting from a fullness that made your body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. You could feel Nanami’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs, his silent encouragement pushing you forward, but never rushing you. His gaze was fixed on your face, filled with nothing but patience and reverence.

You glanced down, your eyes following the path of your own body as you straddled him, only to realise with a jolt that you weren’t fully there yet. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you noticed how much of him was still left to take. The realisation made your heart race, a mixture of awe and nervousness swirling inside you.

Nanami seemed to sense your hesitation, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, steadying you. He lifted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, his warm breath soothing against your skin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle but reassuring. “You’re doing so well. Take your time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

His words grounded you, reminding you of the trust you shared, the connection that went beyond the physical. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you slowly relaxed into him again, feeling his fingers gently massaging your waist. You could feel his restraint, the way his body tensed under yours, but he held back for you, waiting, letting you set the pace.

You lowered yourself further, feeling the stretch intensify, your body accommodating his size inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you took him in completely, the fullness sending a wave of pleasure mixed with a slight sting through your core. You paused, breathless, your body adjusting to the sensation, the initial tightness making you shudder.

The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. A deep groan escaped Nanami’s lips, his hands now gripping your hips as he gazed up at you with pure desire, mixed with tenderness. You sat there for a moment, letting your body get used to the sensation, and Nanami’s hands continued their gentle, grounding movements on your skin.

His gaze was filled with concern and affection, watching your every reaction carefully, ensuring that you were okay. He let out a low groan, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he fought to control his own desire, giving you the time you needed.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with restraint and tenderness. He leaned up slightly, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there, offering comfort and reassurance. “I’m here with you.”

You nodded, eyes closing as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, the stretch easing bit by bit as your body adjusted. The sting was still there, but it began to fade, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of connection. Your muscles relaxed, the tension in your body melting as you slowly started to get used to the fullness, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a protective cocoon.

Nanami’s thumbs brushed gentle circles over your hips, his voice a soothing balm. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

He was big, but the lube helped, and you allowed yourself to adjust comfortably. You could see the strain in his expression, the effort it took for him to hold back, to let you take the lead. It made you smile, knowing how much he wanted you but how much more he wanted to take care of you.

You began to move slowly, adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. With each shift of your hips, the initial tightness gave way to a deeper, more profound pleasure, but the fullness still made you pause every now and then, needing time to take it all in. Nanami’s hands caressed your skin, his touch comforting and grounding, encouraging you to move at your own pace.

As you lifted yourself up slightly, you felt a slight bit of discomfort that reminded you of the tenderness of the moment. Glancing down, you noticed a small spot of blood where your bodies met. Your breath hitched for a second, a wave of nervousness flickering through you, you weren’t worried, it was your first time, after all. Still, the sight made your heart race, if only for a brief moment.

Before you could say anything, Nanami’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his eyes soft and filled with concern. He had noticed your gaze and the subtle change in your expression. “Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay. That’s normal.”

His voice was calm, reassuring, like a gentle anchor pulling you back to the present. His eyes never wavered from yours, filled with nothing but tenderness and understanding. “If it’s too much, we can stop. You don’t have to push yourself, love.”

You shook your head softly, your chest swelling with affection for him, for the way he always prioritised your comfort. "No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice steady, despite the nerves that had briefly surfaced.

“You’re doing so well.” he murmured, his voice deep and strained with pleasure. His hands guided your hips in a slow rhythm, matching your pace.

Your confidence grew with each movement, the connection between you intensifying. The pleasure coursed through you like a steady pulse, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realised how much you enjoyed the feeling of being in control, of taking your time with him. Despite the initial discomfort, the intimacy was beyond anything you had imagined.

Nanami’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you but never forcing your pace. His eyes never left yours, watching you with a mix of adoration and hunger, as if he was committing every detail of this moment to memory. His quiet groans and whispered praises filled the room, encouraging you to move faster, to take what you needed from him.

The rhythm between you and Nanami deepened, each movement becoming a sacred dance of shared desire. As you rode him, the discomfort faded, replaced by waves of pleasure that seemed to ripple through your entire being. The connection you felt, the intimacy between you, was almost otherworldly—like something pure and divine. It was as if you were both part of something much larger than the physical act itself, something holy, like the intertwining of souls.

Nanami’s quiet groans echoed softly in your ears, blending with the sound of your own breathless moans. His eyes never wavered from yours, holding you in a gaze that felt reverent, as if he were worshipping you in this moment. His hands on your waist were not just guiding you—they were anchoring you to this present, sacred moment. The tenderness in his touch was a constant reminder that this wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about connection, trust, and love.

With each gentle rise and fall of your hips, you felt the tension between you building, a shared crescendo that felt like a prayer being offered to the heavens. The room seemed to glow, the soft light casting shadows that danced across your skin, making the moment feel almost ethereal. You could feel Nanami’s restraint, the way he held back, allowing you to lead, to take what you needed.

You glanced down again, noticing the faint trace of blood still lingering where your bodies met, but instead of worry, it felt like a symbol of something being born between the two of you. It was raw and beautiful in a way that made your heart swell.

Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words a low, reverent whisper. “You’re divine,” he Nanami's voice pulled you from your thoughts, his whispered words, "You're divine," he breathed, his hands squeezing your hips gently as you moved. "You feel so damn perfect."

Shivers ran across your skin at his praise. You had never felt so connected with another person-so enveloped in the pleasure, in the love radiating between you.

But with every shift it grew, not just from the physical, but it felt as though your very souls were craving for each other, entwining like a vine in a precious garden. Every word that came from Nanami was some sort of hallowed sound. His breath on your lips, hands against your skin...it was the kind of veneration one pays to something holy.

Nanami's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soft and soothing. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips-each one another silent declaration of love to you.

As Nanami held you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. You were his best friend's daughter. It came to him in a flash, momentarily pulling him out of the sacredness of the moment, but he shut it down, refusing to let it intrude.

He wasn't thinking about that now, not when you were here with him, your bodies connected in such a profound, intimate manner. The tenderness in his touch was real; the love he felt for you stronger than any sense of guilt or propriety. It wasn't about what anyone else might think. It was about you, about the trust and bond you'd built together.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple, a silent reassurance, as if it was a sealing of his resolution. Nothing was going to mar this moment-not the past, not expectations, not the weight of responsibility. His fingers dug into your skin, not in a harmful manner but in one speaking volumes about his need to hold on to you, to keep you close. "I'm here," he whispered-a quiet affirmation, yet a promise to himself and you, all at once. "I’ll be all yours-"

The words spoke of everything unsaid, all he couldn't explain yet knew in his heart.

With every subtle rise and fall of your hips, every time your walls clenched around his cock, the tension of the moment surged between you-a crescendo of shared longing that tugged along your very veins like a heartbeat. But as you got lost in the rhythm, you felt the change in Nanami's energy. "Let me take over," he whispered, voice low and full of promise. You nodded, breathless, feeling the thrill of anticipation at the thought.

As you eased yourself off him, his hands guided you gently to the side, and he shifted his position with grace. You found yourself lying back against the soft sheets as your heart pounded in your chest.

As Nanami settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. There was something of the power in his eyes, a quiet confidence that coursed a thrill through you. You felt vulnerable yet cherished, knowing he was fully present, ready to guide you deeper into this moment.

Nanami lifted your ankles up, with a deliberate care, and laid them over his shoulders. The position opened you up to him; it heightened the sensation as he moved in closer. A soft gasp escaped you in a mix of surprise and delight flooding the senses because the positioning allowed for a completely new depth of connection.

"Just breathe," he whispered, his tone silky and soothing as he watched your reaction. His hands wrapped around your legs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin as he gently pushed his cock inside again, sliding through with ease now. The angle was completely different, hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

His thrusts were slow and deep, taking his time, wanting you to feel every inch of him inside you. "Kento," you gasped, body instinctively arching toward him as pleasure mounted inside of you. This position allowed him to explore you more fully, each thrust setting off a fire that coursed through your veins, racing your heart and quickening your breath.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if he were committing to memory every reaction, every sigh escaping your lips. "You're incredible," he whispered, the admiration in his voice wrapping around you like a warm caress.

He quickened the pace with each thrust, and his motions grew urgent in his urge to take you higher. The tension coiled inside of you tighter and tighter with each stroke. Nanami pressed forward, his lips grazing your forehead before tracing soft kisses down the hollow of your neck, each one sending new waves coursing through your veins. "Let go," he whispered, the soft air of his voice dancing upon your skin. "Just feel.

With his words still echoing in your mind, you succumbed to the moment and the pleasure heaving upon you like a tidal wave. Anything less would make the connection between the two all-consuming; every thrust pulls you deeper into the bliss of shared intimacy.

As he drove deeper, instinctively, your body coiled around him, pulling him in closer, urging him on. You heard the quiet, breathless groans escaping from his lips, each a testament to the overwhelming pleasure being felt together.

"Just like that-" you encouraged, your voice trembling with need as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each thrust sending you spiralling further into ecstasy. Everything else around you disappeared but the two of you entwined in a dance of passion, a sacred union of body and soul.

He was taken aback by just how beautiful you looked, lying there.

“You really do look angelic," he breathed, staring at the way the dress clung to you. It was surreal to him-how someone so beautiful, so vibrant, could be here, completely vulnerable and open, just for him. The mere thought shot a surge of possessiveness rushing through him, igniting something deep within his core.

"I can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see you like this," he said, his voice low and husky. The unspoken implication hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A fierce pride swelled inside of him, a protective instinct that raced his heart faster. You were his, and no one else had the privilege to know you this way.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your legs, savouring it. "Knowing I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this-to feel you and see you… it drives me wild," he confessed, words tumbling from his lips in an fervour that even caught him off guard. It was not merely in the act itself but in the depth of your connection, the trust that you had in one another. He couldn’t deny this had sparked up a desire of possession in him for you.

As you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned, burying his head against your shoulder, almost bending you in half from the angle he had your legs now. The deeper he thrust, the more the feeling of you wrapped around him intensified. Every thrust reminded him of the privilege he held, and he never wanted to forget the feeling of being inside you.

It wasn't one of those moments that would come and go but a promise of what was yet to be, an opportunity to get to know the inside of your relationship in that way-in ways more than physical. And in that realisation, a surge of determination overcame him to always cherish you, protect you, and make you aware of how well loved you were.

The rhythm between you picked up, Nanami holding you close as he thrust deeper, pushing you toward the edge of ecstasy. Your reactions to him-the gasps and moans falling from your lips-caused his heart to race even faster, firing up a flame of desire that threatened to consume him whole.

“I don't think I'm gonna let you go now," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. You felt shivers run down your spine at the conviction he drew behind the statement, a delicious thrill coursing through you. It sounded like a promise, a validation of this moment being more than just a one night thing.

With every thrust, it was like he testified to the fact that he knew you were meant to be together this way, bound by something more real than lust. "If you’ll have more of me, I swear I’ll treat you right" he whispered low, truthfulness in his voice raw and palpable.

As he continued to move, the pace becoming more insistent, the heat rose between you. The way you surrendered to him, trusting him implicitly, made his resolve even stronger. He wanted to protect you, to preserve this connection with every part of his being.

“I want you in my life…properly" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his emotions spilling over. "I want to be your person.”

Your eyes met and everything just felt so right. You could see the honesty in his eyes-the fierce protectiveness wrapping around you like a warm hug. This wasn't about desire; it was about love, wanting to be together in every sense.

He continued to move, each thrust a declaration, each moment together a step deeper into the bond you were forging. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate movement. "And I'm yours, now and always."

He was putting every ounce into you, feeding the fire that was bursting to last between the two-this moment in the engraving of your hearts forever. Everything else faded around you, and it came down to just the two of you, entwined together in a dance as old as time, bound by passion and an unbreakable connection that seemed to be written across the stars.

With every thrust, the intensity between you became all too much. Nanami began to move with greater urgency, his grip upon you tightening as he urged you toward the brink.

It was as if you could feel the pressure build up in you, spiralling tighter and tighter every time his cock hit that sweet spot inside you. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared breathing, the soft slapping of skin to skin, and the sweet symphony of pleasure mingled together.

“I’m not holding back,” he growled, urgency creeping into his tone. “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember this.” With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you both closer to the edge. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses, and you could feel the tightness coiling in your core.

“Kento,” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips unbidden. The tension was unbearable, a sweet torment that made your heart race. You could feel your body responding instinctively, tightening around him, urging him on, begging for release.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. “Let go for me.” His words ignited a spark within you, and you felt the wave building higher, ready to crash over you both.

With one final thrust, everything aligned—the heat, the pressure, the connection—and you felt yourself spiralling over the edge. Your body trembled as waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the space between you, as ecstasy enveloped you completely.

You held onto him as you gushed around his cock, the way you clenched around him drew him deeper into the bliss and he followed closely, his own climax hitting him like a tidal wave, surging right through him. “Oh God,” he groaned, the sound raw and primal, his own body responding instinctively to the way you embraced him.

He savoured the aftershocks of the moment, thankful in this moment that he’d worn a condom. And as the waves of pleasure began to recede, you were breathless and spent.

Nanami gently lowered your legs from his shoulders, his touch tender and deliberate. He cradled your ankles in his hands, mindful of the way the position had pulled and stretched your muscles. His fingers began to massage softly, kneading the tension away with a skillful touch that made you sigh in contentment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a blend of concern and affection. He looked at you with those deep eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both like a soft blanket, grounding you in the reality of what you’d just shared.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you felt his gentle hands work their magic. “I’m perfect,” you breathed, your heart swelling with warmth as you took in the sight of him—the way he focused on you, the care he put into every movement. “Thank you.”

Nanami’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at your words, and he leaned down, placing soft kisses along your ankles and up your calves, each press of his mouth sending a shiver of delight through your body. It felt like a sacred ritual, a way for him to honour the experience you had just shared. He continued to massage your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate care, ensuring you felt cherished and adored.

“I want to take my time with you” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising. As he kissed his way back up to your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and sincerity.

“You have me,” you replied, your voice soft but full of promise. “All of me.”

Nanami’s gaze turned serious for a moment, a flicker of something profound passing between you. “I don’t take that lightly,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You mean a lot to me.”

He paused, taking in the moment, the connection that thrummed between you. He quickly discarded the condom before leaning in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, tender kiss that ignited another spark within you. The world around you faded, and all that existed was the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the way he made you feel—safe, cherished, and completely desired.

“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Nanami whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady sensation that made you smile. You nodded, content to linger in this cocoon of warmth and affection, feeling utterly adored in the aftermath of your shared bliss.

The world outside ceased to exist as you both lost yourselves in each other, the echoes of your passion fading into soft whispers, leaving only the sweet sound of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

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