Leviathan❤️🖤

Pornstar! Xavier whose endurance and stamina in sex is unparalleled. Time and time again giving multiple orgasms to his filming partners before allowing himself to reach his own climax. He adheres to a strict personal rule, never ejaculating inside them.

Pornstar! Xavier who despite his experience with every type of pussy imaginable throughout his career, finds himself particularly captivated by yours. From the very first moment your tight, warm hole enveloped the swollen head of his pretty cock, he knew he had found something special. Something that made even a pornstar like him see stars and lose himself in your perfect pussy.

Pornstar! Xavier whose sexual preferences are as diverse and varied as the partners he has encountered. However, he develops a particular fondness for a specific position when he fucks you against the wall and becomes obsessed by the sight of your luscious ass bouncing and jiggling with each thrust of his hips.

Pornstar! Xavier whose usual grunts and groans, so often captured on film, evolve into moans of pure lust as he drinks in the sight of your needy cunt, glistening pussy lips clinging to his throbbing dick with each withdrawal, growing wetter and stickier each time.

Pornstar! Xavier who despite his legendary self control and adherence to his personal rules, struggles to maintain his composure. When he feels his climax approaching, he makes a valiant effort to pull out, but the pleasure you bring him is too much for even his formidable restraint. With a stifled groan, his hips stutter and jerk when he loses the battle, his thick, creamy cum flooding your insides. The feeling of your tight, rippling walls milking him of every last drop too exquisite to resist, and he surrenders to the blissful pull of your body.

Pornstar! Xavier who slips out from your dripping pussy and watches with attention as his seed begins to leak out from your tender, swollen folds. The sight of his cum trickling down your thigh makes him let out a choked whimper.

Pornstar! Xavier who through the haze of his own pleasure, becomes aware that in pursuit of his own release, he has neglected the most important aspect of his job, he has not once made you cum.

—

Pornstar! Xavier who arranges a threesome shoot on short notice, desperate to shake his thoughts of you out of his head. Maybe if he has two sets of tits bouncing on his face and two tight cunts to pound into he can finally fuck you out of my system.

Pornstar! Xavier who in a display of desperation and need breaks yet another of his long held rules (Never film with the same girl more than once) a safeguard against emotional attachment and complications. However, in a moment of weakness brought on by his desire for you, he reaches out to your agency, asking for the chance to film together a second time.

Pornstar! Xavier who finds himself unable to focus on anything else as he waits for an answer. He is known for his concentration and dedication to his work but now he struggles to deliver the same quality of work. His latest videos are a mess, his mind constantly drifting back to the memory of your sweet, sweet pussy and the way your ass bounced on his cock. He takes to watching your latest videos in private, stroking his heavy cock in time with your moans, chasing that mind blowing high only you've given him.

Pornstar! Xavier who feels his cock stiffen and throb the instant he hears the news of your agreement to film with him again.

Pornstar! Xavier who wastes no time in claiming his prize. Once the camera starts rolling he lifts you effortlessly, your back pressing against the cool surface of the wall as your legs find their way to rest on his broad shoulders. The position leaves you exposed and completely at his mercy. His tongue, skilled and eager, finds your clit and begins to lap at it with unrelenting strokes. One of your hands instinctively finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you ground yourself against his mouth. Your other hand, trembling slightly, reaches down to spread your pussy, granting him the access he craves.

Pornstar! Xavier who makes you cum on his face not once, but twice in less than ten minutes. The camera zooms in, capturing every detail as your body convulses and trembles from the force of your orgasms, fingers gripping his hair for dear life.

Pornstar! Xavier who loves to fuck you standing up, with your back pressed firmly to his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body snug against his own as he grips you possessively. His other hand slides down, fingers in between your swollen folds to tease your pretty nub. Your toes barely graze the ground as he lifts and positions you, using your body like his own fleshlight. His cock stretching you so good, making your breasts bounce with each thrust.

Pornstar! Xavier who in a moment of foolish optimism, dares to entertain the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, he might finally be able to exorcize the demon of desire that has haunted him. Hoping that this second time might be the key to banish the lust that has taken hold of his every waking thought.

Pornstar! Xavier who let's you take the lead. Straddling his hips in a reverse cowgirl position, your hands guide his dick not to your cunt, but to the tight, puckered entrance of your ass. The head of his cock catches on your sphincter, hesitating for only a moment before you bear down, forcing him past the initial resistance. His eyes widen, breath catching in his throat as the unbelievable tightness envelops the pink, fat crown of his dick. He's felt many asses in his life, but just like your pussy, none like yours, so exquisitely snug that he swears he can feel every contour, every quiver and clench. When you sink down further, taking him inch by inch, he feels his eyes rolling back in his head, the sensation so overwhelming that for a terrifying moment he thinks they might get stuck that way.

Pornstar! Xavier who watches in awe for a few minutes the sight of his thick cock disappearing between the globes of your ass, your tight hole stretching to accommodate his girth almost too much for him. But it's the erotic spectacle of your body in motion that is his undoing, the dance of your ass cheeks as they jiggle and bounce with every roll of your hips, the way your back muscles flex and tense as you hold on to his knees for support. Just when he feels the first spurt of cum you pull away and his body convulses, back arching off the bed as the first jet of semen splatters against his abs. The creamy, white liquid reaching all the way up to his chest.

Pornstar! Xavier who watches you leave after you are done filming, mind still reeling. The realization hits him like a train, he's not just fucked, not just hopelessly addicted to your perfect cunt, but now your ass has ensnared him as well. But god help him, he can't bring himself to care, not when every inch of your body feels like it was made for his pleasure.

Lost in thought, Xavier barely registers the crinkle of paper in his jacket pocket as he makes his way back to his apartment. It's not until he's inside, door shutting behind him with a soft click, that he reaches in and pulls out the note. Unfolding it, his eyes scan the words "Don't break your rules for me pretty boy, next time you want to cum inside call me, this time no cameras". Beneath the words, scrawled in a shade of red that matches the lipstick stain, is your phone number and a kiss. The smile tugging at his lips is small, almost shy, a rare sight on the usually confident and cocky pornstar. It's a smile that silently admits defeat, that confesses to being well and truly fucked in more ways than one.

—

Pornstar! Xavier who finally picks up the phone and dials your number, the thought of having you, just the two of you, with no prying cameras or judgmental eyes... a temptation he can no longer refuse.

When you finally meet he takes his time, peeling your clothes off like the delicate skin of a ripe fruit. He wants you to feel every second of your surrender, he wants to watch the goosebumps rise on your skin as every nerve ending screams out.

At last you stand bare before him, the lingerie you wore hanging on his bed frame like a warning flag, the delicate fabric laced with your scent, a sweet aroma that clings to the material like a poisoned perfume, a tempting venom that doesn't kill him, but leaves him aching for another dose.

With each touch, each kiss, he learns a new truth. Sex with you isn't just an act or a fleeting moment of pleasure and release. No, its a war, a battle for dominance and surrender, for possession and submission. And in this conflict, your body is the battleground, the arena where he keeps fighting and falling, keeps dying like a willing soldier marching to his own execution with each thrust of his hips.

That night you don't just ride Xavier, you reshape him with every roll and grind of your hips. You move over him like fire, wild and ravenous, and he burns for you, not wanting to be saved, not when being lost in you feels so right.

And he takes you with the purpose of a man who knows he owns what he claims. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guides your movements, urging you to take him deeper, harder, faster.

He breaks you, shatters you into a million pieces and when he puts you back together again, piece by piece, he builds you around his own needs, molding you to fit the shape of his desires.

Because he knows you crave more than pretty words, more than empty flattery and flowery promises. Your body wants the tangible and visceral, you need bruises that echo like promises, purple blossoms on your skin that whisper of his claim. You yearn for fingers that demand your surrender, that command you to shut up and take everything he gives you. You ache for a mouth that leaves red imprints of his lips on your flesh, sinking deeper than skin.

Your body drips with a sinful essence that paints his cock. The sensation of your rough nails raking down his back, leaving stinging red lines, a wordless cry for him to ruin you. Your lips, swollen and glistening, part in a moan that begs him to seal his mouth over yours and stake his claim.

The fucking that night is anything but pure, its all spit and sweat, the heat between you a fever that fogs up mirrors and clouds the mind, reducing the world to nothing but the feral slap of skin on skin.

And as your thighs clenched around him like trying to hold him inside you forever, he feels the sweet satisfaction of a hunter who has finally cornered his prey. He knows that he has you exactly where you want to be. He's shattered the facade, stripped away the last of your defenses until you're laid bare before him raw, exposed and aching for more.

and xavier’s breath catches instantly, a rush of heat pooling low in his stomach. you’re just so impossibly cute that he wonders how he’s managed to hold himself back for so long without pouncing on you. maybe it’s his hand that has kept him sane this whole time. every night, he’d go back to his place, haunted by your sweet voice and pretty face, and stroke himself for hours thinking about you—thinking about the way your tight walls would wrap around him. thinking about how you wouldn’t know a damn thing. 

“a-are you sure?” he needs confirmation. he needs to hear you say it with no hesitation whatsoever. 

and when you respond with a meek nod and, “i’m sure… you know i’ve never done anything like this before and… i want you to be my first. i trust you.”

xavier sees red. his mind blanks, reason slipping through his fingers as a rush of emotion crashes over him all blurring together until he can’t tell one from the other. maybe you’re wrong to trust him. maybe you should run. 

but xavier controls himself and lets his dreams come true. you’re in his bed, tucked beneath him in cute, mismatched lingerie. it’s your first time, and even as he steadies himself for you, the thought fills him with a quiet, reverent joy. you’re his now, and the moment feels sacred. 

your teeth tug on your bottom lip anxiously as he hovers above you—he knows you’re nervous, but he can’t help but feel elated. he’s claiming you tonight… you’ll be completely and utterly his—the way you were destined to be. 

he preps you extensively—rubbing you over your panties, then slipping his fingers underneath the soaked fabric and playing with your untouched clit then finally pushing a single digit into your warm, velvet walls. and you cry, you sob, you moan, every broken sound is some variation of his name and he almost comes untouched. instead, he adds a second, watching your face scrunch up in pained pleasure. 

he gets you right to the edge and when you’re teetering on your orgasm, he pulls them out. he feels his cock twitch wildly in his all too tight boxers when you cry helplessly. he reminds you that you can’t have your first orgasm like this—that it needs to be on his cock and you just nod dumbly, heating up in shyness all over again. 

your panties are off instantly and his eyes zero in on your drooling cunt, watching your barely stretched hole twitch and beg for his cock. he moans at the sight, pinning your legs open when you try to close them shyly under his intense gaze. “no, honey, keep ‘em open so i can see all of you, yeah?”

you arch your back gasping for something to dull the ache in your pussy, “xavier… please,” 

and he nods, panting. he pulls his boxers down, freeing his cock and letting it slap against his bare abdomen and you choke, eyes widening. he notices immediately and your fear shouldn’t turn him on but it does. so much. 

“you ready f’me, baby?” he asks hotly.

you nod, responding with a watery voice. “yeah, please… wanna be yours, xav,”

and xavier is so scared because the moment his cock presses into you and he feels you stretching around him to take him, he knows he’s going to ruin you. he knows he won’t be able to go slow the way you need him to. especially when you’re losing your innocence right before him. 

he’s groaning, self control fraying at your mewls and sobs. “f-fuck, angel… s’tight. squeezing the fuck out of me. rela—hah! relax.”

and your arousal—brought by his face, his moans, his words, his cock— streams out of you and coats his length allowing him to inch in more and more with every passing second. 

“can-can i keep moving, honey?” he gasps, dick throbbing at the new, tight space. “you okay?”

you nod and he parrots, sliding himself in and feeling you tense underneath him before relaxing—or attempting to. he moans, intertwining your fingers before leaning down to kiss you with such intensity you almost don’t notice that he shoves himself in. 

you almost wouldn’t have had his fat tip not bumped right against your cervix causing a scream to erupt into his mouth. 

xavier falters, the control he’s known for unraveling in an instant. his touch turns desperate, almost trembling, and his words spill out between shallow breaths and sloppy kisses. his hands squeeze yours tight enough to hurt as he attempts to anchor himself. 

he lets you adjust… tries to be patient with you as you make all these cute sounds and whimper out his name while your pussy holds him tight. it’s the least he can do.

but when you give him the okay to move? you almost regret it. he pistons in and out of you, releasing one of your hands to sneak his between your bodies and rub at your clit.

“god, you’re so perfect—ah, my perfect stargirl.” he moans, his abdomen tightening up the same way your pussy does when he flicks at your clit faster and faster. “cum for me, yeah? cum all over me.”

you do just that with a cry of his name and it only triggers his orgasm. you both feel his warm seed filling your cunt and it’s so overwhelming for the both of you—moans of each other’s names and heavy panting before he’s collapsing onto your body. 

you’re his. every single part of you. his sweet girl is finally all his. he mumbles into your neck.

“no one will ever have you like this except for me, okay?”

夏以昼 ⟢ #CALEB

you’ve only ever trusted caleb. he’s instilled the fact that he’ll be the only man in your life—the only man who would never, ever hurt you almost from the moment you met. you hurt yourself? you call caleb. you need a ride because it’s pouring rain and you forgot your umbrella? you call caleb. you need anything at all? you call caleb.

…you want to lose your virginity?

well, who else would you call other than caleb?

you don’t call, but text him—too embarrassed to even say the words out loud—and he’s at your door within the hour, breath uneven, brows drawn tight. there’s confusion in his eyes, maybe even a flicker of anger, but beneath it all, something else you can’t quite name.

he bulldozes his way into your apartment and his voice is low when he speaks. “so… you want to have sex… any particular reason?” no niceties. just straight to the point.

you shut the door and face away from him, timidly responding. “‘m just curious, my girlfriends are always talking about their sex lives and you know i know nothing. i just wanted to get it over with, but with someone i trust… so i wanted it to be you.” you babble anxiously. you turn to see him standing there, tense and unmoving with his hands in his pockets. “is that weird? if it is, then we can just forget it, i’ll ask—”

he cuts you off with haste, gritting his words out. “pips, i swear you better not say you’ll ask someone else.” he stalks towards you and the intensity of his gaze on you has you backing up against the door. “i will take care of you like i always do, isn’t that right, baby?”

baby. caleb has called you that before, but in a degrading, teasing way, but it doesn’t seem like he’s teasing. your breath catches at the foreign name, but you nod anyway. 

but a nod isn’t enough for him, you can see it in his raised, expectant eyebrow. he wants you to say it. he needs to hear you say how much you want him. “yes caleb… yes, please. help me?”

then his lips are on yours and he’s pulling you in for a searing kiss. it’s messy—too full of want to be graceful—and for a fleeting second, you’re grateful it’s him. your caleb, your childhood best friend. the very same caleb who once taught you how to kiss is now the one undoing you with his lips.

and caleb is meticulous. he starts with his head between your thighs, lapping at your messy cunt muttering on and on about how a real man will always eat his pretty girl out before fucking her. he has you falling apart on his mouth, his nose, his fingers—over and over and over until you’re a shaking, writhing mess under him. 

now his cock is rubbing up and down your sensitive slit, coating himself in your slick while you twitch and pant. he’s holding onto every bit of self restraint he has left. “tell me what to do, baby.”

you don’t know how, but your pussy craves something it's never had. craves the weight of his thick cock. especially when he presses the bulbous tip of his cock at your entrance. “please… put it inside me. need you to fuck me ple—ah!”

you’re cut off again by the painful stretch of his length finally pressing into you. his thumb catches your clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive bud as a ploy to distract you from the way he rips you apart, but with his size? there’s nothing that can take your mind off the pain. 

you sob and he moans at the sound… the feeling. there’s a lump in his throat almost like he could cry. he’s wanted this for years. he’s wanted to make you his for fucking lifetimes and now he finally has you. he’ll never give you away to any man after today. you’re his forever. 

“hurts…” you whisper, tears free falling from your tightly shut eyes.

his entire body goes rigid as he twitches beneath your vice like velvet walls. “shhh, i know, baby, i know,” he coos, but even his voice is shaky. then he notices the blood, further confirmation that he’s your first… your only. “fuck, i’m almost in, okay? gonna make it feel s’good for ya, promise.”

you nod, breathing the way he instructs you to, discerning every inch that fills your cunt. then he bottoms out, his tip nestled so deep that you feel him everywhere. 

you gasp, “f-fuck, caleb!” your shaking hand splays over your stomach, pressing down and feeling the evidence of him. you find yourself loving the pressure of him inside of you and your body needs more. you know it’s greedy and you probably should let your body adjust to his thick length, but you can’t wait. “more, need more. you promised you’d make me feel good,” you pant. “so please move,”

he laughs incredulously, backing out of your heat just to shove himself back in. “gonna drive me crazy, pips… gonna make me make this pretty pussy mine.” 

and you squeeze him so tight, branding the shape of him into you. because you’ve longed to hear those words from him and you had a slight inkling that he’d been waiting just as long to say them to you. 

your body tightens, a familiar tension coiling deep inside you. it’s a sensation you’ve only felt a handful of times before—all consuming—until the ache in your belly blooms into something electric, something that borders on euphoric. the testimony slips past your lips as a moan as you feel yourself unravelling around him. “caleb…fuck! i-it’s yours… always been yours.”

“that’s right, baby, all fuckin’ mine.”

秦彻 ⟢ #SYLUS

you’ve never given much thought to sylus’s previous relationships. you know he’s experienced. he knows how to kiss you, knows how to eat you out and he knows how to make you cum and cry and everything in between. you also know that kind of experience doesn’t just come out of nowhere. as much as you like to believe sylus was simply born perfect, you know better. someone else must’ve come before you—someone he learned with, practiced with—long before he ever fell in love with you.

the thought of sylus being intimate with someone else left a sour taste in your mouth and made your stomach sink. it’s irrational—you’re hyper aware of that, but it can’t be helped. there’s a big possibility that he was, like you assumed, born perfect and you’re his first partner, but there’s no way to know unless you ask.

so you ask, bold and brave at first but when he gives you a sheepish look, you falter and it’s obvious that his non-committal answer hurts you, even if it’s only a little. 

“sweetie, why does it matter if i’ve had prior partners? none of them could ever hold a candle to you.” he confirms, voice so matter of fact.

there’s still a flicker of hurt in your eyes when you look up at him. “how can you be so confident when we’ve never even had sex? what if all the girls you fucked in the past are a million times better than i am?”

he gives you a look you can’t discern before his hands cup your cheeks, squishing them and laying a chaste kiss lips on your puckered lips. “because i love you, sweet girl. not for your body or for your face— even though i believe you’re the most gorgeous person alive—but for who you are and how alive you make me feel.” and every word rolls off his tongue so confidently, so reassuringly. “sex doesn’t matter to me. i could go lifetimes without it as long as i get to be with you.”

and his words are all the justification you need. you’ve been saving yourself—holding yourself back for the right person, the one who makes you feel safe, seen, understood. sylus has never given you a reason to doubt that it’s him. he’s the one you trust, the one you love. your one. your only. 

you gulp before inhaling sharply and letting a surge of confidence take you over. you push him onto his bed and straddle him, movements a little uncoordinated, but he steadies you like he always does. “don’t want you to go lifetimes without it… i wanna do it.” you whisper. “i want to go all the way.”

he searches your eyes for even the slightest bit of hesitation, but you stand firm on your decision. it makes his cock harden beneath you, digging into your clothed core. you grind against him gently, inconsistently as extra confirmation that you want him and his breath hitches. 

now you’re on top of him, his warm, tender hands rubbing up and down your sides as you hover over his cock. he’s prepped you, of course. sylus spent eons prying you open so you could take him… but he’s still huge and you’re still too tight. 

he looks up and your chest heaving as your arousal drips down his tip. he murmurs to you, “go as slow as you want, baby. we can stop when—shit.” 

he’s immediately cut off by your tight heat stretching over his mushroom head, trapping him there as a moan rips through you. it hurts, he knows it does. his size is one of the other main reasons you avoided having sex. he was just too big. 

“fuck, ease up, sweetie. ‘s gonna hurt if you keep squeezing me like that.” his voice is gravelly, practically a grunt. “let me open you up.”

you nod, determined to keep going, your breaths coming out in shaky rhythm as sylus steadies you with soft praise and gentle murmurs. his words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and with every one, arousal gushes out of you—spilling over, pooling down to where you’re joined, until all you can feel is him.

“you’re taking me so well, baby,” he says, squeezing your hips and pulling himself up to smother his face against your tits. “there’s no one but you. never going to be anyone but you. understand?”

you cry, sliding yourself all the way down until he’s bottomed out inside of you. “yes, all mine,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling so full of his cock and love that you forget about the ache and the pressure. you can only think about him being lodged against your sweet spot causing a knot to quickly form in your stomach, both ends of the sting pulling tighter and tighter until…

snap!

and your eyes are rolling back, your head rids of every word just to cling onto his name in which you repeat like a prayer over and over and over. your pussy convulses, walls spasming as you become mush in his arms. 

sylus resorts to his default smug smile, pulling away from your breasts to look at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with mirth. “you just came from putting my cock inside you, sweetheart.”  

it’s not a question, it’s a statement. a fact, at that. you whimper, nodding, before raising your hips that still have a tremor from your orgasm and sliding back down. 

“w-want you… t’give me everything, sy.” you whimper, digging your nails into his pale shoulders, leaving red crescent shapes in their wake. “want you s’bad it hurts.” he laughs breathily, heart pounding and blood thrumming beneath his skin. “whatever you want, sweetie. it’s yours—i’m yours. take as much as you want.”

黎深 ⟢ #ZAYNE

there’s nothing you want more than zayne to fuck you. yes, you were a virgin, that much was clear, but that never meant you didn’t get urges. you fantasized about zayne for years before he finally asked you out. you refused to go on dates, you refused to kiss other men and you most certainly rejected any advances that were made on you—you could’ve lost your virginity if you really wanted to, but above all, you only wanted one man to have it. your man.  

but even after several weeks of being his girlfriend, he still denies you. he can’t seem to bring himself to go past third base with you. he’ll kiss you, play with your tits, and fuck you with his fingers, but the second you mention going all the way, his hands are off you like he’s been burned. 

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. you always knew he was experienced—he was humble about his ability to work a woman’s body—but that only made his hesitation more confusing. why did he pull away whenever sex with you came up? why did he act like the thought of being with you in the most intimate way possible was something he had to avoid?

you tried so hard not to let it show, to pretend his distance didn’t bother you—but tonight, you’re at your breaking point. the ache for him is one you can feel in your cunt and deep in your bones, a slow, relentless burn that pulls every buried feeling to the surface. all the want you’ve swallowed down for years, all the insecurity and fear you’ve tried to bite back—they’re rising now, thick in your throat, threatening to spill out of your mouth if he didn’t finally fuck you. 

but he refuses, once again with a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he pulls his fingers out of you sopping, needy pussy. “not tonight,” he says thickly. 

and you can’t help it. the tears blurring everything until the warmth of the moment feels cold. what started as pleasure twists into something raw and aching. “do you just not want me or something?” you whisper, words broken and zayne freezes, heart splintering at the sound. “i’ve wanted you for so long, zayne. i’ve liked you since i could even process what the feeling was.”

“sweetheart—”

“i saved everything for you…all my firsts like a fucking idiot on the off chance that you would finally see me, and you would want me… and then i got so lucky and you did want me,” you say, tearily. “at least i thought you did, but now i try to give you all of me and you repeatedly reject me. so what is it, zayne? do you want me or not because i only want to be with someone who does.”

his voice is tight when he responds, hazel jade eyes going dark. “i’ve always wanted you. i’ve never wanted anyone the way i want you and it scares me.” he whispers, sounding pained. “i do want you, sweetheart… more than that, i need you. every fiber of my being needs you and i can’t control it. it’s why i keep saying no… i just can’t bear to lose control and hurt you. your first time deserves to be perfect.”

your breath hitches at his words, pussy weeping at the idea of zayne losing control. you want that. desperately. you take his hands and place them on your thighs, “hurt me, i don’t care. just please… give it to me, zayne.”

and all the self control he’s built over the years dissipates in an instant. his lips are on yours, tongues and teeth clashing with a mixture of spit coating your chins. zayne is both rough and gentle with his movements, hands squeezing at any bit of your flesh he can grab. he’s in between your legs in no time with his cock in his hand, pumping himself and watching how you admire him in awe. 

“tell me,” he pants. “please, sweetheart. tell me how bad you want it.” 

you whimper and shoot him pleading eyes. “i need it s’bad. need you, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

zayne wouldn’t even dream of making you wait. he takes a few deep breaths before pushing into you, instantly met with resistance. you gasp and wince at the stretch, but you welcome the pain and the pressure of him because you’ve dreamed of this for what feels like an eternity. 

you tell him to move despite the evidence of blood and the obvious pain you’re enduring. he’s hesitant, he always is when it comes to intimacy, but you’re convincing when you want to be and, at the end of the day, he could never truly deny you. 

and so he moves, stretching you open, splitting you on his cock while he tries his damndest to keep from completely losing it and fucking you stupid. the truth is, it’s taking everything out of him to be a good man to you. to be the man you deserve. 

luckily, it doesn’t take long for you to adjust to the foreign feeling and the discomfort—slowly, but surely it turned into something tolerable then finally, the feeling of immense pleasure. especially when you snake a hand between your bodies and play with your clit… just like you used to when you would fantasize about this moment. 

you can see zayne is holding back, with his set jaw and his eyes squeezed shut, but that’s the last thing you want.

“don’t hold back, zayne.” you moan and he responds with something short of a whimper. a noise that sounds like it begrudgingly crawled out of his throat. 

“i love you,” he heaves, the words strained like it’s taking everything not to ravage you. he didn’t want to say it like this, but he’s overwhelmed by you—your pussy, your pretty face, your even prettier sounds. he can’t help but let the words he’s been holding onto for so long spill out of him. “love you. i’ve loved you for so long… ‘m sorry for hurting you, sweetheart. so, so sorry.” he falls on top of you, tearing up with his head in the crook of your neck while he continues to thrust into you at a steady pace. 

you wrap your legs around him, drawing him in closer. “and i love you so much,” you whisper, heart in your throat. “i want you to show me. let go and love me the way you want. you won’t hurt me.” 

祁煜 ⟢ #RAFAYEL

the early days of your relationship with rafayel were rocky. you wanted him—god, you wanted him more than anything—but every time your intimacy got too intense, you’d pull away. you’d mumble some excuse about having to go, or pretend something suddenly needed your attention.

you saw the disappointment flicker across his face each time, that quiet look he never dared to question, and it tore you apart because you knew it was killing him. you could see the want… the need for you in his eyes, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to allow things to move further.

it was a cruel loop—you wanted him, you wanted sex with him, but fear always won. fear that you’d be horrible at it, that he’d see you differently, that once you crossed that line, he wouldn’t look at you with the same softness anymore. that he wouldn’t think you were his pretty girl anymore. 

but your distance is wearing him down. rafayel’s trying to be patient, but you can feel it—the way he’s unraveling, the way he wishes he could just crawl into your head and understand what’s holding you back.

rafayel doesn’t do well with distance. he’s prone to spiraling and losing every ounce of inspiration without you, and you’re the rock that steadies him. he needs you, so he invites begs you to come over and your guilt has you obliged. 

but when you arrive and see his entire home lit with candles, you feel your palms clam up and your throat get dry. you blurt your insecurities before he has the chance to even greet you. 

“i want to, ahem… have sex… with you,” you start, awkwardly, cringing at yourself. “but i… can’t. because i don’t think you’ll like having sex with me.”

his brows draw in and a small scowl rests on his face. “you think i wouldn’t like having sex with you? the love and light of my life?” 

“well… yeah?” you say, shrinking under his scrutiny. “what if… i’m too awkward or i’m not actually as pretty as you think i am? i don’t… i don’t want you to not like it. does that make sense?”

“no,” he says flatly. “you know i think you’re the prettiest princess in the world and sea, nothing underneath your clothes could change the way i feel about you. i’m offended you’d think i’m that shallow.” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “you trust me, don’t you?”

you nod slowly, “more than anything.”

“then let me show you how much i adore and worship you.” 

and rafayel is so slow and gentle when he cradles your face and pecks your lips. so tender when he coaxes your mouth open so he can push his tongue in. so sweet when he’s guiding you into his bedroom without pulling away from you. 

your clothes disappear before you can realize it, save for your bra and panties. you feel the need to cover up, feeling overly exposed and vulnerable before him and his darkening eyes. your arms cross over your breasts and stomach and he shakes his head, peeling your hands away from your body and pinning them above your head. 

“don’t… don’t hide from me. i think you’re perfect, you’re so pretty.” he murmurs, keeping your hands above your head before he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck and down your chest. his free hand tugs at your bra until your breasts spill out and his mouth finds your tight, peaked nipple. 

you gasp, arching your back to which he chuckles. “i think your body wants me, princess.”

and it does. he can feel just how badly when his mouth trails down further and finds your cunt dripping through your panties. 

as much as rafayel wants to eat your pretty pussy till you’re squirming and gushing, his cock begs for attention. instead, he pushes his finger into you, stretching you slowly before adding a second finger. he watches you wince and hears your sharp gasp with every little movement. when he deems you ready, he pulls out, watching your pussy gape and hearing your little cry at the loss of contact.

he sits back, little purple strands sticking to his forehead as the heat in the room seems to rise. “we can still stop if you really want to, but i—i need you to tell me now, because…” you notice the way he twitches in his pants and you’re mesmerized by his full body shudder. “i need you… and i won’t be able to stop once i get inside of you.”

you shake your head, meekly. “n-no… i want you.”

it’s the only confirmation he needs before he’s freeing himself from the confines of his pants and you from your uncomfortably sopping panties, tossing everything to the side.

he lines himself up with your drooling hole, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit. then he takes a breath and pushes inside your warm, wet walls, and the room is immediately filled with the sounds of your mixed whines. 

s length has your fingers clutching the sheets, knuckles losing color as the fabric threatens to tear beneath your grip. “raf,” you sob, voice breaking as your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed by the way he fills you.

“does it—fuck, cutie, you’re so fucking tight. gosh, y-you’re gonna ruin me,” he pushes in further, thankful that you’re honey like arousal makes it easier to slip in. “does it hurt? you–you’d tell me, right?”

“f-feels strange… but it doesn’t hurt.” you pant, feeling more and more full with every inch he pushes inside of you. “i’ll tell you if it hurts, just… keep going.”

it’s all the encouragement he needs to sink the rest of the way in, eyes locked on the way you take him—slowly, completely—until there’s nothing left between you. until his skin is against yours and you’re so full of him that he’s all you can think about. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve waited to have you like this.” he murmurs, pulling out before shoving himself back inside. “my pretty girl. you’re finally all mine.”

He'll toughen up if he must.

He lasted years without you and he had successfully kept his distance from you, no matter how difficult and tempting, until the time was right.

His patience and self-control are not to be underestimated.

He'll be fine.

That's what Sylus keeps reminding himself every time he gets the urge to hold you. Every time his eyes fall to your lips, he tells himself that he'll survive without them.

You're trying to punish him for calling you needy, but he won't give in.

He'll wait until you give in.

It's more fun that way.

Okay, so this is harder than he thought.

It's day two and he's already weak on the knees from the very moment you walked out of the bathroom wearing the dress for tonight's date.

Sylus watched you put on your heels, flashing him a part of your thighs while doing so, and he wanted to run a hand on it to feel your smooth skin.

"Sylus?"

He blinked out of his trance to realize you just asked him a question. "What was that, sweetie?"

"I was asking if it'll be cold in the restaurant you chose, so I can know if I should bring a jacket or not."

He shook his head. "You'll be just fine."

That was a total lie.

It turned out to be cold as your table was specially reserved at a rooftop of a building.

However, it just so happens that Sylus has a jacket and the cold wasn't affecting him, so he was able to give it to you.

With a grin on his face, Sylus pulled your seat right next to his and gently put the jacket around your shoulders, making sure his fingers brush against your skin even if it's only for a second.

"Thanks." as you gave him a smile, you slightly moved closer to his face. "I feel much better now."

Sylus made the mistake of looking at your lips. Without much thought, his head tilted down and his nose grazed yours before aligning your lips.

"Wow! This wine is so good! Try it!" You shoved your glass of wine to his lips before scooting your chair back to its initial place, a couple of feet away from him.

Sylus almost choked on the alcohol but gladly accepted your offer. He put his lips on the same spot that had your lipstick stain on it.

At the very least, he got to enjoy an indirect kiss that should keep him satisfied for the rest of the week.

Or so he thought.

Day four.

The frustration has gotten to Sylus.

It's like owning the world's most valued weapon yet not being able to use it.

He can look, but he can't touch.

It's much more difficult than he thought.

Especially when you're doing everything in your power to make him cave in.

Well, technically, you aren't doing anything out of the ordinary.

Right now, all you're doing is hitting the punching bag in the exact way that he taught you, but the way you look at the moment is making him want to grab you and pin you down — or you can be the one to pin him down. It doesn't matter to him. All he wants is his body to be pressed against yours.

Sylus quietly growled under his breath.

He clenched his fist and started to hit the other punching bag, hoping to take away some of the tension burning inside him, particularly inside his shorts.

You tilted your head and watched curiously as Sylus' punches to the sandbag has gotten heavier, leaving such satisfying sounds at the impact.

"Whoa! So good! You look like you're getting ready to beat up some real nasty bad guys. Did anyone piss you off or something?" You picked up the clean towel nearby and held it up towards his face to wipe the sweat on his forehead. "You do look tense lately."

Sylus' left hand suddenly caught the one you're using to wipe his face. "You're a vicious little kitten."

He gave your hand a kiss before stepping back and patting your head before walking out of the room and leaving you alone.

"Hey, where are you going?! We haven't sparred yet!"

"Shower." He looked over his shoulder to give you a smirk. "Would you like to join?"

You almost agreed in a heartbeat.

But you have to stay strong.

"Nope, I'll just stay here and keep practicing so I can kick your ass the next time we spar."

Your own answer only disappointed the both of you.

Day seven.

You and Sylus went out for a ride on his newest motorcycle at night, on the empty, spatious roads of N109.

It was the worst idea of all.

As the one that's manipulating the vehicle, you're the one sitting at the front and you took advantage of the close proximity by pressing your ass right against his crotch.

Sylus had to concentrate on making sure his grip on your waist doesn't hurt you, with the way his body had gone stiff. Every part of him.

Every bump on the road slammed your hips against him and he had to hold his breath every time. His pants became tighter and tighter by the minute, and his breath had gotten unsteady.

He was sweating throughout the entire ride.

And once you finally made it back to his place, Sylus' patience finally broke.

From the moment you got off the motorcycle, Sylus quickly removed his motorcycle before taking off yours.

As soon as your face was in clear view, before you could even comprehend what was happening, Sylus' left hand caressed your jawline before locking his lips with yours.

Your eyes widened with surprise, though you didn't waste a precious second to kiss him back and pull him close by grabbing onto his shoulders.

Sylus didn't dare to pull away until he was out of breath. Even then, he'd only stop for a second before diving back in like a starved man.

Every time you'd pull back to gasp for air, Sylus would come after your lips and slip his tongue between them to capture yours.

"You win." he huffs in between kisses while your hands run through the strands of his hair. "I yield."

"Heh?" you can't help but grin. "What are you talking about? What are you yielding for?"

"Don't play innocent, kitten. You know what you've been doing." He tapped your forehead as you laughed. "I won't call you needy ever again, so if you could stop teasing me, I'd greatly appreciate it." he whispered against your ear before kissing it softly, "I don't know how long I can keep holding back."

"Since you learned your lesson...." you pressed your lips under his jaw. "You don't need to hold back anymore."

That was all he needed to hear.

Sylus wrapped your legs around his hips and kept you up against him as he made his way into his bedroom.

zayne

You're drawing random patterns with your finger on Zayne's bare chest as you cuddle with him when suddenly, he made a lighthearted joke.

"Your libido has been rather high lately. Based on my record, your premenstrual syndrome symptoms shouldn't be showing up for another two weeks."

You looked up to see the playful grin on his face.

"Oh, is that right?" you huff. "Must be my diet or something. No worries, I'll fix it."

Zayne blinked with confusion. "Huh?" But he received no more response for an explanation as you closed your eyes and drifted oft to sleep.

It was only until the very next day when he realized his mistake when he received absolutely zero kisses.

He was quick to figure out what brought on such an evil scheme.

"Oh, no..."

Day three.

You stopped by his work to join him for lunch, just as he requested.

Zayne observed that you're not angry with him and you have no problem spending time with him. You act normal for the most part. The one big change with your behavior is that you refuse to give him any physical affection.

You didn't even give him a hug as you greeted him.

It feels strange. It's like he's forgetting something as important like his wallet or his car keys.

"Are you punishing me for what I said the other day?"

"What you said the other day?"

"You know... about your high libido...."

He could've sworn a vein popped out from your forehead just now and he does his best to suppress a smile of amusement. He's already in trouble. He doesn't want to dig his grave any deeper.

"Nope! I don't care at all!"

Despite the words that came out of your mouth, you continued to make him suffer.

Later that day, you met up aftet work to drink milk tea while taking a night stroll around the city during such a lovely weather.

The way you were smiling the whole time made Zayne want to hold your hand and keep you close to him.

And yet, you were constantly moving around so much, either on purpose or due to all the sugar from your drink, so he ended the night feeling somewhat emptyhanded.

He hasn't realized until now just how much he enjoys even the little touches you grace him with.

Day five.

You and Zayne attended a formal event.

It's a banquet for the hunters association and you were obligated to come, and he was your date, so you two dressed up nicely to follow the dress code.

Although, if he was being honest, Zayne wishes you two are still in your apartment, where he can have you all to himself.

Ever since he had come to your home to picked you up, he couldn't keep his eyes off you. And throughout the event, he has been rather... uneasy.

As you're eating dessert, Zayne can't help but imagine tasting it from your lips. It has been days since he last kissed you, and he needed to be reminded of your sweetness.

He needed to feel the warmth and softness of your skin underneath your dress.

Zayne lets out a shaky breath before loosening his tie.

It seems that the room suddenly feels hot.

Or maybe it's just his racing mind and heart and the blood rushing down below his hips.

"Zayne, are you okay?"

You scooted your chair closer to him so that your legs are touching. You faced him and put a hand on his forehead.

"You feel warm. Are you sick?"

Zayne lets out a laugh that was half-nervous. "Are you teasing me again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just worried about you."

He detected from your tone that you are indeed teasing him.

On the drive back, Zayne was clutching the steering wheel as his mind continues to race, imagining all the things that he'd been wanting to do with you. Sitting still became difficult with a bulge rising through his pants.

But yet again, he ends the night without a single touch from you.

And Zayne has decided, he'll never joke about anything ever again.

Day six.

On his day off, Zayne had taken you out for a picnic and the torture continues.

Whenever you two have a picnic, there's lots of cuddling involved. This time, there's none at all and there's the Happy Snowman plushie sitting right between you two as a barrier.

You two are playing kitty cards and Zayne seems to be on top of his game today.

After all, he had a special proposal.

"Whoever wins must do something that the winner wants."

It's a simple but classic prize that no one can ever resist, so you gladly accepted the challenge thinking you'd easily win.

But Zayne's focus is unshakeable.

He's consecutively dropping assist cards to take away your points, and somehow he's stocking up all the sixes.

He won't even let you switch cards by acting cute. That's how serious it is right now. The stakes are high.

After six rounds, Zayne comes out as the winner.

"How could this happen?!"

Zayne chuckles at your dramatic cries, aggressively shaking Happy Snowman as if it was the one responsible for your loss.

Unfortunately for Happy Snowman, it's Zayne's turn to have your attention.

Zayne snatched the plushie out of your hands and set it aside.

"Darling, it's time for me to claim my prize."

You sigh and bowed playfully. "Yes, yes, congratulations for being crowned as the King of the Kitties. What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

Zayne smiled and gently held your chin with his fingers before guiding you to look up so you can lock gazes.

"Kiss me."

Your mouth drops at his request, face immediately heating up.

"Oh."

He found a way to end your silly little game.

He really is a clever boy.

"Your wish is my command~"

At last, you stop holding back against your urges and brought yourself on his lap.

Zayne eagerly welcomes you into his arms and wraps them around you tightly, making sure you don't try to escape.

His lips meets yours with desperation and his hands slides down to your thighs, encouraging you to sway your hips back and forth.

Between the deep and heavy kisses, he mutters, "I joked about you being needy yet here I am, being the needy one. But it's all your fault. Are you going to take responsbility for it?" Zayne pressed you down against his hips to let you feel just how hard he is for you.

"...should we end picnic early?"

"We should end picnic early."

caleb

You stumbled into his room while removing his shirt and almost tripped on his feet as you reached the bed.

"What's the rush, Pip-squeak? And here I thought I was the needy one."

Your hands come to a halt.

"What did you say?"

"I said there's no need to rush, I'm not going anywhere — "

"No, you just called me needy just now."

Caleb chuckles at your furrowed brows.

"I was joking, Pip— what are you doing?" you picked up his shirt that you dropped on the floor and threw it at his chest before walking out of his room.

"Gonna be needy all by myself in my room. Goodnight."

"Wha — hey wait!"

It's too late. You stomped your way into your own room and Caleb is left all alone with a boner that remained standing until his mood died down.

Caleb sent you a bunch of stickers, hoping you'd come back beside him. Sadly, you ignored all of them and he was forced to sleep with a cold, empty bedside.

The next day, Caleb woke up early and prepared breakfast for the two of you as usual. You came out of your room and lazily greeted him a good morning, so he was relieved to know that you weren't really mad.

But once he tried to kiss you on the cheek after giving you a cup of coffee and you blocked his lips with the palm of your hands, he learned that he's not completely off the hook just yet.

"No."

"Huh?"

"No kisses."

"What?! Why?!"

You almost laughed at the way his face shifted, looking like a little boy who'd gotten his favorite toy taken away.

"Because. I don't want to seem needy."

"Come onnnn, it was a joke! I'm sorry!" he tried to embrace you from the back but you stood up and moved away.

"Wow, look how nice the weather looks today!" you exclaimed as you look out the window, admiring the clouds of Skyhaven.

Caleb pouts at the way you deflected him.

Knowing how you behave whenever you're being petty, he has to brace himself for the worst few upcoming days of his life.

Day two.

The pout hasn't left his face.

You two are working out together at his home gym and he's pouting as he's doing push ups.

You're not even sitting on his back and motivating him to do more reps. You're just doing your own sets of excercises in front of him while pretending he's not there.

"Pip-squeak, look. I'm doing push-ups with one hand."

"...."

"Now I'm doing push-ups with just one finger!"

"..."

No matter what he did to grab your attention, he just couldn't get you to look at him.

But what if....

"Whew, it's so hot in here."

Caleb took off his shirt and threw it aside.

He tries not to grin as he caught you sneaking glances from the corner of your eye.

Now, he'll do pull-ups on the bar right in front of you.

Or at least, that was the plan.

His shirt was thrown back at his chest just like the other night.

"Caleb you dummy. You'll get cold."

You walked out of the room and he was back to pouting.

Day four.

You went back to Linkon at Monday morning. Caleb couldn't believe he lasted four whole days without getting a single kiss from you. He didn't even get to hold your hand or pat your head.

The lack of physical affection and intimacy should be nothing to him since he always had to hold back from acting on his feelings for you. He was willing to wait forever for you.

But now that he thinks about it, he'd always been touchy with you.

Even before you were in a romantic relationship, he'd given you plenty of hugs, he'd given you lots of forehead kisses, he'd hold your hands whenever you let him, he'd hold you when you don't want to sleep alone, and he'd even kissed your cheek during the times whenever you pretended to be a couple.

Physical affection has always been a part of your relationship.

Taking it away is like taking away a pilot's airplane.

Well, maybe it's not that drastic but it surely feels that way to Caleb.

Now that he's able to kiss you and hold you whenever he wants, he can't stop. He loves being with you and becoming one with you.

He can't help but seek for your touch.

It's only been a few days but he misses your warmth. He misses how you taste. He misses the sounds you'd make.

Oh, he definitely won't survive for long.

This scheme of yours has to end now.

Day five.

You got a good jumpscare when The Colonel showed up at your doorstep at night, in his full uniform and all.

Before opening the door, you peeked through the peephole and took note of his serious expression, just as The Colonel often appears as.

But the scary demeanor vanished the moment you oppened the door.

His face lights up and you're flashed with the warm smile you've used to seeing.

"Caleb! What are you doing here?!"

"I just dropped by to bring you something you forgot at my house. It's pretty important so I thought I'd make a trip to Linkon so you don't worry about it."

You let him in your apartment, trying to recall what you could have forgotten. You were able to get through a long day at work without noticing anything missing, so what could've been that important that he had to give to you immediately?

"What did I forget?"

Caleb dug something from one of the pockets of his coat.

"Ta-da! Here you go~"

Caleb took your left hand and dropped something to your palm.

".....Are you being serious right now?"

A hair clip.

"What? It's something that you use every day, is it not? I know you were probably feeling weird without it. You're welcome."

"...I leave this behind on purpose. I always use it whenever I'm at your house, every time I'm doing my hair. It was meant to stay there."

Caleb laughs and scratches the back of his head. "Oh, my baaaad, Pip-squeak. Ah, but since I'm already here, might as well have dinner together!I'll help you cook~"

He removed his hat and coat before entering your kitchen. You're in the middle of making dinner too, so he somehow arrived perfectly on time.

You should've known he came in with a mission.

As he goes around the kitchen, he does everything possible to accidentally touch you.

He'd lightly bump into you and touches your shoulder as he apologizes.

His hand brushes against your waist to move you aside so he can pass by.

He stands behind you and reaching over you so he could get some containers on the cabinet, making sure to grind his hips against your ass just for a brief second.

Eventually, you found yourself cornered against the fridge.

"What are you doing?"

"Making dinnner." you glare at him and he was quick to give you a pout. "...And trying to win your attention because you've been so mean to me by neglecting me."

"Neglecting?" you tilted your head. "But I thought I was being needy."

Caleb groans before completely losing his patience.

He pulls you into a hug. "I'm sorry! I won't say it again! Please don't punish me anymore I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry — " his embrace starts getting tighter at every word, making you cough dramatically.

"Jeez, alright fine! I get it, now let me go — "

"Never!"

Caleb lifts you off the ground and nuzzles his face against yours. "So soft and so warm ~"

"Caleb, the pot is boiling!"

"The pot can wait. I'm busy."

"Caleb — " the sizzling noises from the stove forced him to jump away from you.

"Okay I'm coming!"

rafayel

"You don't need to be so needy cutie, I'm not going anywhere~"

You pulled away from his kiss and raised a brow at him. "Needy...?"

Rafayel's eyes widen as he realized what he just said. "I — I was just joking!"

"Right..."

You laughed along but five minutes later, the kisses suddenly stopped and your attention shifted to your phone to play a silly game (one that he recommended to you in the first place).

Rafayel didn't think much of it. He was able to cuddle with you as the two of you fell asleep that night.

But once he woke up, things started to seem weird to him.

As you left to go to work, you didn't give him a kiss. You always give him a kiss. You rushed out of the studio before he could even remind you about it.

He didn't get to see you for the rest of the day because the Wanderers robbed him all of your time and energy.

At the very least, he was able to videocall with you and chat with you about how your day went. Though, seeing your sleeping face made him wish he was next to you so he could comfort you and ease your exhaustion.

Day two.

You joined him for a stroll at the beach and helped him collect some shells. He tried to hold your hand but you not-so-subtly moved away from him.

The face he made was worthy of a drama actor award.

"Are you worried I'd give you a virus? Come here, cutie, I'm perfectly clean. I just took a bath an hour ago."

"No no, just don't wanna seem clingy, that's all."

Rafayel took a moment to figure out what prompted that response.

"Waaaait, you're not really mad about me calling you needy, are you? It was just a joke, Miss Bodyguuaaard..."

"Mhmm."

Rafayel sighs as he realizes you're going to prolong this cruel revenge of yours just a little further. It's good that you're not really mad, though he can't help but pout about it.

He had to walk through the beach with you so close yet so far from him, and his hands have never felt so cold and lonely.

You don't even always hold his hand, as sometimes collecting sea shells require all hands available, but now that he's aware of your punishment, he can't help but notice that he really loves holding your hand and giving you little kisses.

Without them, his day feels incomplete.

Day three.

You showed up at Rafayel's art exhibition and he's acting like you just dumped him.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to show up today, Miss Bodyguard. I thought you'd forgotten all about me."

He showed you one painting that you haven't seen finished until now.

"This is inspired by the gaping hole in my heart because my beloved has left me."

Trying not to laugh, you flicked his forehead. "Your beloved saw you this morning for breakfast and watched you get scolded by Thomas because you weren't ready for your event on time."

Rafayel huffs. "Well, I would have woken up early and would've been prepared on time if only I went to sleep early. But I couldn't sleep early because my beloved is being mean to me and won't let me kiss her."

"Weeeell, that sucks for you." you patted his shoulder. "I'm gonna go check out that lovely painting over there. See you later."

Rafayel followed you the entire time, walking so closely beside you so his hand would constantly brush against yours.

Once you reached an empty room, he stood right behind you and put a hand on the wall next to the painting that you're admiring.

His lips brushed against your ear after taking a whiff of your neck. "This perfume... it's the one that I really like..."

It was indeed the scent that makes him act like a cat that's high on catnip. You wore it on purpose, solely to get the reaction that he's giving right now.

Rafayel's lips brushed against your neck like a feather, testing the waters to see if you'd push him away.

So far, you do nothing but stare at the beautiful painting he worked months on.

His right hand landed on your stomach and gently nudged you back so that your body is right against his.

His kisses grew a little bolder, lingering on your skin a little longer.

But then, the sound of footsteps coming close forced you to spring away from him.

You held back a grin at his red face.

"This has been a wonderful exhibit, Sir Rafayel. Thank you for the tour."

"...Hmph..."

He crossed his arms and looked away, trying to calm down his racing heart.

Looks like his body craves for you more than he realized.

Day four.

"I got here as fast as I could! What's the emergency?!"

You slam the bathroom door open to find Rafayel chilling in his bathtub, naked body submerged in warm water mixed with pink foamy soap.

"...."

"Oh, good, you're finally here." Rafayel sighs with relief. "Miss bodyguard, you have to help me. I slipped from a paintbrush earlier and hurt my right arm, so I can't move it around easily because it hurts. Will you help me with my bath?"

"How did you get in the bathtub in the first place if your arm hurts so much?"

"Don't worry about it, cutie. That's in the past. I like to focus in the present."

You shook your head, though you're unable to hide a smile from his silly yet clever response.

You knelt down beside the bathtub and started petting his head. Right away, he closed his eyes and leaned in towards your touch.

You lowered your hand to his neck and brushed slowly your thumb against his skin just under his jaw, and you caught him gulping nervously.

Next, you slid your hand down to his chest, drawing random shapes between his pecs, causing his breath to stutter.

"But now that I think about it... how does one get help for taking a bath?" you asked. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

Rafayel caught your hand before you could even think about pulling away and leave him hard, just like yesterday at the exhibit.

"I just need you... to move your hand... just a little lower...."

Your face heated up at his low tone. His face had turned into a dark shade of red, flushed from the warmth you've made him feel with just a few light touches.

"You better be careful." you whispered, moving your hands down as slow as possible. "With how you sound just now, someone might think that you might be a little....needy...."

Rafayel opened his eyes but didn't move a single muscle. His hand remained on top of yours, letting you wander to wherever you want to.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm the needy one." he kept his gaze fixated on you. "I need to have you close to me. I need to hold you. I need to feel you."

Your face burned.

As did the rest of your body.

At last, your hand reached where he needed you to be.

Stiff and twitching, just for you.

Your core clenched as you recall the way he feels inside you.

"If.... if I'm gonna help you take a bath, you better make some room for me."

Rafayel has never moved so quickly.

xavier

Xavier breathes heavily on his bed, face flushed and chest heaving, glistening with sweat. You're lying next to him, equally spent after getting lost in each other's bodies.

"We've been doing it so much lately, I'm starting to feel sore." he says with a chuckle, putting one hand on his neck and shoulder.

"....You're right." you softly tapped on his chest as if to give him comfort. "Don't worry, I'll let you recover. Let's not do anything for a while."

Xavier's eyes widen. "What?! That's that not what I meant — "

You let out a yawn. "I'm sleepy. Goodnight, Xavier~"

"Wait — "

"Goodnight, I said."

Day one.

You had to be joking, right?

You were probably just so tired and blurted out such a hasty statement.

You probably don't even remember what you said.

Xavier didn't forget, though. He couldn't, even if he wanted to.

When he woke up at noon, you were already at work. You made breakfast for him. If you were really upset with him, you wouldn't have cooked anything for him.

So, everything should be fine.

He arrived at work and the very first thing he did is greet you at your station. You're behind your desk, busy with a report on your computer.

"Good morning."

He leaned down to give you a hug. Although you didn't return it, you didn't deflect him.

That means you really were just bluffing. Everything is fine.

"Good morning, Xavier."

Fast forward to a couple of hours later, you two are investigating an abandoned but recently used building that's been raided by Wanderers.

There was a suspicious man on site, so you hid somewhere so that you can observe him for any possible leads.

Xavier pulled you into a room that looks to be a supplies closet, which was luckily clean enough to not contain any foul smell that would make it unbearable for you to hide in.

You stood by the door that's slightly cracked open so that you can keep an eye on the suspicious man.

Xavier stood right behind you with absolutely no space between your bodies. His left hand made its way to your waist while his lips brushes against your neck.

Before he could do anything else, you turned around and covered his mouth with one hand.

"Hmm? What are you — "

"Shhh. We need to be quiet."

Okay, so you rejected his attempt to makeout.

But that was only because you couldn't risk missing out on any leads and had to focus on the suspicious guy, right? That's all. Everything is fine.

Everything is not fine.

He caught you on a conversation with Andrew and you were touching his shoulder. Then you spoke with Simone and you were touching her arm.

But when he talked to you, you didn't touch his shoulder or anything. You didn't touch his hand and you even moved away when he tried to touch yours.

For the final check: the Pocky test.

Once you're back in his apartment after work, Xavier decided to share his last box of Pocky with you.

As you were eating one, Xavier quickly went up to you.

"Wait, let me check if yours is good."

He continued to eat the stick of Pocky until he's closer to your lips.

But then you suddenly pulled back and ate the rest.

"Wah — "

You gently patted his cheeks. "Nice try."

So, it turns out you knew what he was doing and no, you were absolutely not going to give him kisses today.

And so, sulky Xavier makes his return.

Day two.

Xavier decided to get revenge for taking away kisses and cuddles by showing you the most horrifying scary movie on both of your watch list.

You two are sitting on his giant bean-bag chair, sharing a blanket while your eyes are glued to the TV screen, unable to look away at the bloody scene of another character getting ripped apart.

Little did you know, Xavier is mentally cheering.

For every jumpscare, you scoot closer and closer to him. Around halfway of the movie, you're sitting on his lap yet you're too focused on the movie to realize it.

Xavier kept quiet and rested one hand on your thigh, while the other casually shoves popcorn in his mouth.

As the end credits started to roll, Xavier got up to refill your drinks so that you can have more for the next film, which is another horror one.

"Wait where are you going?!" you grabbed his hand before he could start walking towards the kitchen.

Xavier almost laughed at your expression. "I'm just going to get us more drinks. I won't be gone for long. Just sit here and relax."

"You're not scared even a little bit?" you murmured, tightly hugging a pillow. Right now, your brain is imagining the killer in every dark spot of the apartment.

"I'll be fine~"

Five steps forward and he suddenly turns around.

"Are you really that scared?"

He uses his evol to shine a bright light on his face while pulling a silly expression, mocking the one that the killer from the movie wore.

"Ah!"

His plan worked a little too well because now, you can't sleep alone.

"Are you really that scared?" he asked, walking up to the bed, watching you hug Bunbun with your dear life. "We fought Wanderers that are much worse. If you were in the movie, I bet you'll make a good final girl that'll outlive the killer."

He sat next to you and smiled as he put a hand on the plushie.

"Bunbun can go now. I'm taking over his job in protecting you while you sleep."

You gasped as he snatched the plushie and threw him across the room.

"Xavier!"

"Ssshh, I got you."

After turning off all the lights, he laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him, with your back against his chest.

The second you closed your eyes, your mind starts replaying the scariest parts of the movies you just watched, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

You hear a faint gasp behind you, but you ignore it as you're trying to block off the scary images in your head.

"Ugh! It's no good! I need a distraction."

You turned around to get your phone on the nightstand, but then you come face to face with Xavier.

"A distraction?" he leans close to you so that your noses touch. "I can give you a distraction, if you want."

"....nope, I'm good." you turned back around with a huff. "Don't wanna make you sore."

Xavier laughs and nuzzles his face on your neck.

"I'll remember not to joke about something like that ever again. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

"....are you also sorry for making me watch those really scary movies?"

"Well.... not really...."

They were excellent movies, after all. Aside from the scary parts, he could tell you enjoyed it overall.

"At least you're honest."

A few seconds later, Xavier starts to pepper kisses all over your neck and jaw.

"Do you still need a distraction? I can help you get your mind off of anything scary."

You let out a quiet moan as he softly pushed his hips against yours.

"Just focus on me."

From the moment he got on top of you, you forgot about everything — your silly scheme and the horror movies.

“Hmm?” he hums when he releases you, expectantly peering into your eyes. 

Dumbfounded, you stare up at him before his slow smirk jolts you back into your right state of mind. “Sylus! Stop distracting me. You’re enjoying this, aren't you?” you accuse with a glare. 

“I don’t particularly enjoy being your distraction, kitten. I’d rather have all your attention in the first place,” he replies, wearing an infuriating look of triumph. 

“You know what I mean,” you whine, thwacking his shoulder in exasperation. “You have me in your lap while I spend enough to buy a house on things I don’t need. I don’t get it—are you enjoying this?” 

Sylus blinks lazily. Slowly, he chuckles before rolling his hips into the plush of your backside. “You’re well aware of how much I'm enjoying it, sweetie.” 

Startled, you jerk your hands to his thighs, the laptop landing onto the bed with a soft thud. “Sylus,” you breathe, a whimper escaping you as he grinds upwards again. “I-Is this really okay? You’ve been so tired lately, you can’t hide it from me. What if I spend too much and you have to work harder?”

Sighing, Sylus snakes one thick arm around your waist, pulling you further back into his chest. As he splays his large hand across your belly, you feel his body warming yours, making your core clench with need.

“Kitten,” he drawls, nuzzling your shoulder. “When I’m out there making Onychinus deals, putting my life on the line just to come home coated in someone else’s blood—it gets…tedious, sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if I should give it all up so we can start fresh somewhere new,” he confesses, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “But having you here with me, knowing I'm putting my life on the line for you? So you can spend what I earn for you, so I can give you all the pretty little things you could possibly ask for? It makes it worth it, kitten. It brings me…peace. Satisfaction.” 

Throughout his musings, he’s been rubbing you harder and harder against his rigid length. Feeling it pulse beneath you, you moan softly and reach your arm back, threading your fingers in his hair. “As long as…as long as you like it,” you pant. “Want you to be happy.”  

His deep chuckle hits your neck, sending shockwaves down your spine. “Won’t you help me relax, then? After all, I've been so tired lately,” he mocks, nipping your ear. 

“Now,” he starts again. “How about you look at the accessories page next, hmm? Let’s see the handbags.”

It’s an hour later when Sylus is finally satisfied with the subtotal of your shopping cart. 

He holds his card out in front of you while you type in the information, and once the order goes through, he captures your lips in a kiss, tender but claiming. 

Xavier's tongue was tracing the edge of his knuckle where your first release had coated him. His eyes had gone almost entirely black, pupils blown so wide there was barely any color left, every bit of that darkness was fixed between your thighs.

Behind you, Zayne exhaled, low and unsteady, the sound catching in his throat before it reached your skin. He hadn't moved back. He had moved closer, pressing his hard cock between your ass, the friction made it clear his medical textbooks hadn't prepared him for how much he actually wanted to ruin you right now.

"That requires an entirely different approach," Zayne's voice was thicker and rougher than it had been. His hands tightened on your waist before he said anything else. Then he bent his head, lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear.

"Are you alright with this? Do you want to show them?"

Your head had already begun to fall back against his shoulder and the whimper that came out of you wasn't something you'd planned.

"Yeah"

His patience didn't leave exactly, but it changed shape, it became something slower. His hand moved from your waist, sliding up until his palm curved around your breast again, broad, warm and unhurried. His thumb found your nipple without searching for it and he began to roll it between his fingers with a steady pressure that sat right on the edge of too much and didn't waver.

"The G-spot," he said, his voice settling back into something that almost resembled composure, "isn't about surface stimulation. It isn't about rhythm either." He pinched your nipple lightly, and your breath caught. He continued as though he hadn't noticed, or perhaps because he had. "Squirting isn't something you can rush. We've spent nearly twenty minutes on foreplay and that's perfect because the entire pelvic region needs time to fill with blood, to become fully engorged. Without that, it won't work."

His thumb moved in a slow circle around your nipple, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use it.

"The targets are the paraurethral glands. Small, about the size of a pea, sitting on either side of the urethra, close to her G-spot. Most people don't know they exist. Most people don't know what they're capable of." A pause. "You're about to learn."

Xavier's voice came quiet and low. "I want to try."

Whatever remained of the quiet, compliant boy from freshman orientation—the one who'd handed you a campus map and apologized for bumping into you—was gone. Completely. He moved forward until he was wedged between your legs, his thighs pressing firmly against your calves.

A cold spike of something, fear, want, the particular overwhelm of both arriving at once, shot straight down your spine. Your thighs tried to close on instinct, a reflexive flinch against the intensity of his gaze, the nearness of him and the reality of what was about to happen. Your knees had barely begun to move before something stopped them.

Caleb moved to the edge of the mattress and closed his hand over your right knee. Not gently. He pressed it down and out over Zayne's thigh, his grip immovable, the kind that didn't invite negotiation. You weren't going to close yourself off. He'd made that clear without saying a word.

Rafayel took your left. His fingers found the inside of your knee and held on with trembling pressure.

You looked down at them through the blur of whiskey and heat.

Caleb's jaw was locked, a muscle jumping in his cheek like he was chewing through something. The flush on his neck had darkened to something almost bruised, creeping up toward his jaw, his breath coming in audible hitches he wasn't bothering to hide anymore. Rafayel had his bottom lip caught between his teeth hard enough to drain the color from it, his eyes tracking every shiver that moved through your body like he was trying to memorize them.

And then lower.

A small, damp circle had bled through the gray of Rafayel's sweatpants. The front of Sylus's pants were pulled tight, a matching wet spot darkening the fabric, spreading slightly every time he exhaled.

"Keep her steady." Zayne's hips kept moving, that same slow roll against you, while his fingers worked both of your nipples at once, rolling and pinching until heat shot straight down through your stomach and didn't stop.

"Xavier." His tone shifted into something clinical "Two fingers, palm facing up toward her navel. Her arousal is sufficient as a baseline, but you need to use the lubricant on my nightstand. I don't want friction, I don't want any tissue irritation." A pause, weighted. "Once you're inside, feel along the anterior wall. There will be a ridge, different from the surrounding tissue. Think of the roof of your mouth."

Xavier reached for the lubricant and coated his fingers slowly, his hands were shaking. Then he brought them to your entrance, just the tips at first, barely making contact, and paused there for a breath that felt longer than it was.

He pushed in slowly.

Inch by inch, the stretch of it opening you around him, his fingers pressing through the heat and slick of you with patience. His eyes had gone wide by the time his fingertips swept up and found it, the ridge Zayne had described, unmistakable, exactly where he'd said it would be.

A cry tore out of you before you could stop it, fractured and too loud. It rang off the walls and you knew without question it had carried straight down the hallway outside.

Sylus shadow fell over you before he leaned down, face unreadable, there was a particular stillness of someone exerting tremendous control. His thumb caught your chin and pressed your jaw down, and then his fingers were in your mouth, muffling whatever came next. You closed your lips around them without thinking. Your tongue found his knuckles and you pulled him in, sucking hard, needing the solid reality of him to hold onto, something grounding while everything else was coming apart.

"Keep it down, sweetie." he said. Low. Almost gentle.

"Like this?" Xavier's voice came from below, strained thin.

He had begun to move, curling his fingers up, knuckles dragging against your entrance with every stroke while his fingertips pressed into the ridged wall above. He went deeper with each repetition. Not faster. Deeper, the hook of his fingers catching on the sensitive texture inside you and holding there just long enough before pulling back and doing it again.

"Slower."

Zayne's breath was scorching against your neck, his fingers never stopping, working your nipples with a precision that had stolen most of your ability to think. Behind you his hips pushed forward, heavier than before, a frustrated grind that he didn't bother to disguise.

"You're skimming the surface," he said. "Press into it. Maintain the motion and add external pressure to the clitoris, combine both. Increase as the tissue expands." His voice dropped slightly. "Can you feel how she's changing around you? How she's pulling you in?"

Xavier made a sound low in his throat, almost involuntary, his head dipping forward. His thumb came down against your pelvic bone and he adjusted his angle, pushing deeper until his knuckles were completely slick. His strokes slowed and firmed, each one pressing up into you with a patience that was clearly costing him something.

"It's getting tighter," he said, voice fraying at the edges. "It's... it's pushing back. She's so hot inside."

"She's engorging, the fluid is building in the glands. You cannot break the rhythm, not now, not for anything. If you ease up even slightly, the accumulation dissipates and you lose everything you've built."

He said it like a warning. Like he was saying it to himself as much as Xavier.

It was nothing like before.

Not the sharp, electric jolt of Zayne's thumb. this was something else entirely. Deeper. Heavier. A fullness that built with every stroke and didn't recede, coiling low in your abdomen like pressure with nowhere to go. Every time Xavier's fingers found that spot and pressed, a wave rolled through you, enormous and terrifying, making you want to beg for something you didn't have words for. You bit down on Sylus's knuckles without meaning to, eyes losing focus, your whole body tightening around a point you couldn't reach.

On either side of you, Caleb and Rafayel hadn't moved. Couldn't. Their knuckles had gone white where they held your legs open, and their eyes were fixed on Xavier's hand, on the way his fingers disappeared into you and came back slick, on the wetness that had gone past the point of containment. It was pooling at your entrance, spilling over and running down Xavier's wrist.

It was Rafayel who broke first.

"Zayne." His voice came out cracked, barely holding together. He swallowed hard, his gaze still locked on the fluid stringing between your skin and Xavier's hand, his body giving him away beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. "She's...fuck...it's leaking. Is she close?"

"She's almost there."

Zayne's voice had lost everything clinical about it now. Whatever composure he'd been maintaining had come apart completely, leaving only this—his fingers digging into your nipples, pinching hard, driving the sensation past the point of bearable while his hips pressed into you with desperation.

"Xavier. Fast circles on her clit, other hand, now." A beat. "Force it."

Xavier looked up at your face instead.

Your eyes had gone hazy, barely tracking, tears gathering at the corners from nothing but sheer overwhelm. Your lips were still wrapped around Sylus's fingers, your chest heaving in ragged pulls, small broken sounds escaping around his knuckles every time Xavier moved inside you. You were completely undone. Anyone could see it.

Xavier saw it too.

He didn't raise his hand to your clit. Something shifted behind his eyes, a flash of something reckless and deliberate, the look of someone who had been quietly calculating this exact moment and had finally decided to take it.

"You said anything I can do with my hands," he murmured, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper, "I can enhance with my mouth, right?."

His blonde hair fell across his forehead as he leaned down.

"Xavier—" Zayne's voice came sharp with warning.

Too late.

Xavier buried his face between your thighs.

The heat of his mouth hit you without warning.

Xavier's tongue sealed over your clit and the sound that came out of you was strangled, swallowed by Sylus's fingers, barely contained. He didn't tease. He remembered every word Zayne had said, flattened his tongue broad and wet against you, using the full weight of it to meet the pressure building from inside, while his fingers hooked harder and began to move in a rhythm that was merciless and gave you absolutely nothing to brace against.

"Breathe." Zayne's lips found your temple and pressed them there, warm and close. "What you're feeling, the fullness, the urgency, it will feel exactly like a need to release. That's correct. That's exactly right." His breath shook against your skin. "Don't fight it. Bear down. Let your pelvic floor go completely. Let it happen."

You stopped fighting.

You exhaled and let go. Your pelvic floor released and you bore down against the hook of Xavier's fingers, against the wet relentless press of his tongue, and for one suspended second everything went very still.

Then your body locked.

Every muscle seized at once, thighs convulsing against Caleb and Rafayel's grip. They leaned their full weight into your knees and held. Caleb let out a breathless "fuuuuck look at her". You bit down on Sylus's fingers hard enough to feel his knuckles against your teeth, vision narrowing to nothing.

It came in a rush, clear and forceful, spilling over Xavier's chin, across his cheeks, soaking into the fabric beneath you. His fingers stayed where they were, buried deep, riding out every contraction as your body clenched around him in waves that didn't stop, that pulled at him and wouldn't let go.

He didn't pull back. His tongue kept moving through it, his jaw working, his nose pressed to your skin while you sobbed through the aftershocks, open, head falling back against Zayne's shoulder again, with the full dead weight of someone who had nothing left to hold onto.

The room went quiet before you heard the slow, wet sound of Xavier withdrawing his fingers. Sylus drew his hand from your mouth just as slowly, his thumb dragging across your lower lip, catching a smear of saliva and wiping it away. He didn't look away from your face. The darkness in his eyes hadn't lifted. It had settled into something that made it very clear this wasn't over.

Xavier raised his head.

His face was flushed deep, his lips wet, a streak of fluid catching the lamplight as it ran down the line of his jaw and dripped onto his collarbone. He looked up at Zayne.

He looked like someone who had just discovered something he couldn't un know.

"Like that?" Xavier asked. The smugness in his voice was not even slightly hidden.

Zayne didn't answer right away.

He was staring down at the space between your thighs, at the soaked mattress, at the evidence of everything his careful, clinical framework had produced. His chest rose and fell hard against your back, his breath coming uneven against your neck, and you felt it before you fully understood what it was, a spreading warmth behind you, seeping through the fabric of his trousers, pressing into you. Unmistakable.

"Yes," Zayne said finally. His voice was stripped of every careful layer he'd spent the entire evening constructing "Exactly like that."

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Soooo, there will be more of this...if I forgot to tag someone I'm so sorry. Let me know if you want me to tag you on the next part.

Chapter 3:Rafayel

Chapter 4: Xavier

Chapter 5: Caleb

Chapter 6: Sylus