🐋🌠brainrot

So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?

He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.

Or, tried to.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you. 

Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you. 

Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.

"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"

Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs. 

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.

He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.

It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing. 

“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”

It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.

“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”

For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop. 

He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin. 

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight. 

“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?” 

A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time. 

“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.” 

Caleb just snaps.

His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.

"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust. 

"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."

It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.

"Caleb—"

"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.

Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close. 

Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream. 

“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.

Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.

“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

You’re going to have to call in sick for the week. 

Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight. 

It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again. 

“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”

Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.

"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.

He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets.  "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."

“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly.  “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”

Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need- I need—”

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping. 

Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.

Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.

"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please!”

You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"

"Yes."

The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.

"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you. 

You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed. 

And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough.  “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.” 

Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you. 

"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.

Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.

"I promise," he gasps,  "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?" 

You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock. 

“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."

"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"

"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."

The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"Oh, fuck."

"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.

"Yes, please, please, please—"

And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.

Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap. 

Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.

"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”

Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again. 

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”

Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."

He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.

"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”

And you do.

The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.

"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."

You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.

"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.

"Fuck, Raf...”

"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."

You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.

You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.

The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity. 

"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.

You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”

Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more. 

“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”

You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction. 

The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again. 

You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging. 

“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!” 

Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.

“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.” 

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”

You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”

Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock. 

“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth.  He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”

It’s humiliating how right he is.

Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him. 

“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm. 

Or rather, he would have. 

But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.

“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe. 

Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”

Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—

"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.

Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.

"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."

A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him. 

Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.

He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache. 

Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.

The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.

A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.

You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long. 

His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.

"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger. 

"Xavier—"

He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart. 

You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.

“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”

Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.

Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon. 

But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this. 

It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind. 

This, however, was not what you had in mind.

"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.

Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow. 

"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."

Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"

"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."

Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."

You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth. 

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra. 

He wants to ruin you even more. 

Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit. 

When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door. 

Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top. 

The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever. 

“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.

“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”

Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.

The door handle rattles.

Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of ice crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control. 

He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.

"Zayne, your Evol—"

"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.

Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.

 “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you. 

Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.

"You are such a pain in the ass," Rafayel whines. "My ass, specifically. My cheeks are red and sore from how much I have to deal with you being away from me, cutie. Think about that — Rafayel, master painter and artist, unable to create because he can't sit down for 5 seconds without his butt hurting because of how much his girlfriend pains it by not being by his side! Think about i-"

Before he can continue his tirade, your finger presses against his lips, effectively shutting him up. His face reddens at the gesture, and his eyes go wide as he reaches for your arm to pull it away. Much to his dismay, he only gets as far as wrapping his fingers around your wrist before you swoop down and hook your arm behind his knees, successfully flipping him over and holding him half-upside-down as you make your way from the entrance of his house to his living room.

As expected, Rafayel immediately flails, his protests getting louder and more vigorous, his arms flailing as he holds onto your torso for dear life. "Hey-! Hey cutie, baby, sweetheart I'mgoingtodiefisharen'tmeantobeheldlike-"

His protests get cut off with your exasperated sigh as you toss him onto the couch. He lands with a small 'oomph!', looking up at you with a flustered expression as he attempts to regain his bearings.

"You- You- You-" His head turns away from you in frustration, his voice breathless and indignant.

This is your chance.

You slide on top of him, your hands trailing down his sides, resting on his waist. The touch sends a shiver throughout his body, his words caught in his mouth.

You look him up and down idly, another sigh leaving your lips as your gaze focuses on his slightly unbuttoned shirt. "Pain in the ass, Rafayel? Who's the one who called me all day, begging me to finish up work so that he could- What? Whine about me doing exactly what he wanted?"

He only flushes darker, gulping down his growing anxiety while he stumbles over his words. "L-Look, look! Can you get mad at me? I just w-wanted to see my beautiful gorgeous amazing kind girlfriend really bad and-" He attempts to compose himself, flaring red as he pouts and tries to calm down, only to look like a fish out of water. "I...I didn’t mean...to...hurt you, baby...no...that’s not what I meant to say...I just…" 

You raise an eyebrow, silencing him as your gaze grows stern. "Did you forget that this beautiful, gorgeous, amazing and kind girlfriend has work? Despite that, I do my best to come home earlier....and you call me a pain in the ass? Do you know how unfair that is, Raf?"

A soft huff escapes him at your cutting tone, and as your hand rests on his chest, he finds himself losing resistance for anything else you had to say — or do.

"I'm- I'm sorry, baby...." His eyes flick to the pressure of your hand on him, feeling the weight of your frustration....and something else. Something that would only bring him to ruin.

He tries to speak again, knowing how futile it'd be. "I didn't mean-"

"Rafayel?" The look in your eyes is sharp, cutting, and hungry.

He gulps again, feeling like he's losing air. His pulse quickens as his cheeks flush even deeper, his voice small yet underlined with need."...Yes, Miss?"

You finally let a small smile pull up at your lips, though the command in your next words is palpable. "Get the strap."

His entire world seems to freeze for a moment.

Rafayel stares at you, stunned, his breath catching in his throat. His cheeks are positively burning, his body now humming with anticipation. For a moment, neither of you move. Then slowly, he swallows, his wide eyes darting around as if searching for an escape that doesn't exist. 

"Do I need to tell you twice?" Your voice is quieter now, but the command is still there. His hesitation thickens the air between you both, as he knows exactly what will happen if he doesn’t comply. He lingers, just a second longer—before stumbling off the couch, clearing his throat in a poor attempt to mask his flustered state. His legs feel like jelly as he heads toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later, he returns, holding the box in his arms. His fingers tighten around the corners and his eyes flit around the room, searching for anything to focus on but you. His lips press into a thin line, embarrassment coloring his features—but the way he shifts, the way his fingers twitch? That betrays the real story.

Unfortunately for him, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into the moment those words left his mouth.

You don’t say anything at first, simply lifting two fingers and gesturing him forward. Your eyes flick to the empty space beside you, silent and expectant.

He hesitates. Then, reluctantly, he steps closer, lowering himself onto the couch with stiff, uncertain movements. Still, he avoids your gaze, fumbling with the lid of the box as if stalling would change his fate.

First comes out a sleek, white harness. Next is a thick, pink dildo. He exhales shakily—looking at it makes him feel so full, and you haven’t even touched him yet.

"You know what to do, baby." Your voice is low, an intoxicating purr that slides down his spine like silk, wrapping around him and tightening.

"Stop fumbling like this is your first time, okay?"

He stiffens, feeling his heart beating in his throat. Maybe—just maybe, he was starting to regret greeting you with so much attitude. Good, you’ll fuck the rest of it out of his system.

Obediently, borderline mechanically, he pulls the harness from the box, setting it between the two of you. The lube comes next. Finally, the dildo. All three items are resting between the two of you, a tense silence filled with the weight of anticipation.

You stare, silent and unmoving, your eyes never wavering from him. It's an unspoken command, one that wordlessly strips away the last of his defenses. He's exposed, raw—even more so as his fingers slip beneath the hem of his sweater, pulling it over his head.

His pale, toned skin is revealed inch by inch, and you let out a soft, approving hum that has his cock twitching beneath his clothes. You don’t even have to say a word. The way your eyes drink him in, slow and deliberate, is enough.

His breaths are now shallow, erratic. He forces himself to sit still, but it’s impossible to ignore how his arousal strains against his pants, how his body betrays every inch of himself with the burning desire to be under your command.

Rafayel bites his cheek, trying, trying so hard to keep the whimper locked down his throat. His chest rises and falls erratically as your fingers work their way down his body, tracing each curve and ridge of his muscles. He bites down on his lip to stifle a moan, but you see the way his body trembles beneath your hand, a silent admission of his growing need.

Soon enough, Rafayel finds himself bare, his cock drooling onto his stomach as your fingers work him open. He grips on the cushions below him, knuckles white with how tightly he's holding on. Each slow, deliberate movement of your fingers pulls a reaction from him—a shuddering gasp, a breathless moan, a whine so sweet you can feel the heat pooling between your legs.

By the time he's prepped and ready for you, his cock is stiff against his stomach, the tip red and needy, slick smeared across his skin. His mind is hazy with pleasure and anticipation as you take the bottle of lube, coating the strap with methodical, practiced movements. The wet sounds alone have him mewling, his thighs twitching as he struggles to keep still. His sounds catch in his throat when he finally meets your gaze, amusement glinting in your eyes as a lazy smirk tugs at your lips.

"...Look at you." Your voice is oozing with fake sympathy and thick with hunger that threatened to devour him whole. "You’ve taken barely anything, yet you’re already shaking."

Rafayel tries—and fails—to stifle himself with a bite to his lip, the muffled sound escaping anyway, somehow even filthier for the effort. His hips cant in search of friction, his voice wrecked with want. "Miss, please- I-I need-"

"Need what, baby?" Your fingers trail down his chest, pressing against the planes of his body to still his squirming. His breathing stutters under your touch, his skin burning hot like a fever. "Mm....you know, I think you've forgotten something already."

He whines, louder this time, brows furrowing in confusion as his scrambled, desire-fogged mind struggles to process what you might possibly be talking about. What could you possibly mean when everything you wanted from him was right in front of you—right?

"M-Miss wha-" His sentence cuts off in a strangled moan as you align yourself with him and thrust forward, filling him in one smooth motion. His back arches off the cushions, his mouth falling open in a wrecked gasp, a whimpering mix of surprise and pleasure spilling from his lips. "Miss- oh fuck- Baby, ah- ahh- Wha-What did I- hngh do?!"

"Oh no. You've already gone dumb on me?" You sigh and tut at the pitiful, confused sight below you. You draw yourself out achingly slow, before snapping your hips forward, burying yourself to the hilt again. He cries out, hands gripping the cushions, his body jolting at the force of your thrust. Words tumble from his lips, barely coherent, lost between moans and gasps.

"So desperate," you murmur, letting your nails trace his sides and smirking at how he shivers. "I bet this is what you wanted all along. Running that mouth, acting up—just so I'd fuck you stupid. Now you get to feel just how much of a pain in the ass I can be."

Your fingers slide up his trembling thighs, moving them to rest against your shoulders as you set a punishing pace, pulling out of him halfway only to slam back in. With each thrust, he quivers, the impact leading his cock to bounce helplessly against his stomach. "Look at you," you hum, voice syrup-sweet, yet laced with something cruel. "Already shaking. What happened to all that attitude, hm?"

Desperate sounds wrenched from his throat are his only answer, his fingers holding onto the cushions for dear life. His lips part, trying, but no words follow. His mind is too fogged, too lost in the rhythm of your hips and the way you fuck him just right, keeping him on the edge.

You chuckle, your grip tightening. "Nothing to say now? Or did I fuck the fight out of you already?" You lean in, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, voice dripping with amusement. "You'll take what I give you. And you'll be thankful for it."

All he manages is a choked sob in response. Rafayel's mind is completely fuzzy as you keep repeating your actions, pulling out halfway only to slam yourself all the way back in. The constant stretch has him shaking, lips parting in loud moans as his hole constantly squeezes around your strap, sucking you in deeper.

"Miiiss….!" He slurs out, his hands letting go of the cushions to cover his face. Too embarrassing, too vulnerable, his brain screams—but you grab his wrists, pinning them down above his head and his eyes roll back, fully overwhelmed by the moment. Sensing that maybe he was going to break too quickly, you slow down your movements, pacing it out to be more slow, more deliberate.

Your lover whimpers at the change, his lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you, completely at your mercy. His breath comes in tiny stutters as he catches it, arms twitching as you hold them down. "Miiss…please- please I can’t- ‘s all too much-"

You slow down even more, letting the tip grind into him, sending little shocks of pleasure throughout him. "You seem-" you punctuate your words by gripping his wrists tighter, "perfectly pretty and fucked. Besides, I told you to take what I give you. I’m even being a little nice, nicer than a little slut like you deserves right now."

Rafayel sobs at your words, his body tensing beneath your touch. He squirms beneath you, wrists testing against your grip, but you don’t let up. You watch the way his flushed chest rises and falls, his breaths shaky, needy, completely wrecked.

You continue, voice slow and teasing, "But, since you’re already falling apart…" You lift your hips ever so slightly, the tip of your strap barely pressing inside him before sinking back in agonizingly slow. His body clenches around you instinctively, and you feel him shudder as his cock twitches. "Maybe I should really give you something to cry about."

A confused, broken sound is all that’s able to fall from his lips before you slam back into him, resuming your punishing pace. His body shakes yet arches into every thrust, pleasure coursing through him until all he can do is take it—take you.

"Miss-! Ahh, Miss, I-It’s-!" His voice cracks, his head tilting back as his eyes lose focus, mouth falling open in a soundless moan before another cry escapes. His cock is leaking, neglected and weeping onto his stomach, each thrust making his mind delve further into the blinding haze of pleasure.

"You're what, baby?" You coo, letting your nails drag lightly down his arms, making him shiver. "Losing your mind? Coming already? Just from getting fucked like this?"

He mewls frantically, but you tsk, slowing your movements again, enough to force him to plead with you desperately. "N-no, no, no- Miss, please!" He cries, his hips trying to chase your thrusts, but your grip keeps him in place. "Please no, I want to- I need it, Need you pleasepleaseplease—"

You smirk, taking pity on him—for now—as he unravels beneath you. "So greedy," you murmur, and with one sharp thrust, you make sure to grind deep, right against that perfect spot inside him, and the scream that rips from his throat is downright filthy.

"But that was nice." Your voice drips with satisfaction, nearly manifesting as a low purr. "Now, be a dear and come for me."

Rafayel screams—and all he sees is white as thick spurts of cum shoot out of his completely untouched cock, painting his stomach and even his chest. Your name flows from his mouth like a waterfall, praises and ‘thank yous’ slurred in between all the loud moans and desperate gasps for air.

While he experiences his high, you start stroking his cock, coaxing out any leftover seed from him. He whimpers at the slight overstimulation, but what you have planned for him is much worse. Sliding your fingers down, you grip the base of his length, and his response is immediate—even in his half-delirious state, he jolts in surprise, a high-pitched whine catching in his throat as his body spasms beneath you, his sensitivity cranked to the max. His thighs are trying to clamp shut around your waist, but you let go of your other hand that was holding his wrists, instead forcing his legs open for you.

Rafayel tries to protest—again, hasn’t he learned his lesson? Yet you only croon, your grip on his cock firm as you squeeze just enough to send another jolt of sensation through him. "Shh, baby. You can take more. You wouldn’t want to….disappoint me now, would you?"

He sobs, his head shaking weakly, but his body betrays him. He twitches in your hold, already starting to get hard again despite the oversensitivity wrecking him. His body knows it belongs to you, even when his mind is too far gone to process it.

You answer for him, a smirk curling on your lips as you loosen your grip just enough to stroke him again, slow, teasing. "You can. And you will."

He chokes out a sound somewhere between a cry and a moan, legs shaking beneath your hold as his nails dig into the palm of his hand. His flushed, tear-streaked face is a sight to behold—his lips are parted, his eyes are glassy, and he’s completely at your mercy.

"I c-can't-!" he hics, his breath ragged, but his body is already proving him a liar. Every nerve in his body is alight, each stroke only winding him tighter, pushing him further into the pleasure he claims he can’t take. His cock twitches, standing rigid in your palm, glistening with need despite his desperate pleas. The contradiction is almost adorable.

"Mm, but look at you." You roll your hips again, grinding into his oversensitive hole, and his back arches beautifully. "Hard again already. Such a good little thing for me."

At the same time, your hand resumes its pace along his slick length, stroking him in time with your thrusts. The dual sensation has Rafayel outright wailing, trembling violently as he tries to escape both the pleasure and the overwhelming stimulation—but there’s nowhere to go. Every grind of your hips presses against that spot inside him that makes him see stars, and your fingers work him mercilessly, coaxing more from him even as he shudders from the aftershocks of his last orgasm.

His nails dig into the cushions, his body trembling like he might shatter apart at any moment. "No, Miss, it's- it's t-too much-"  

You chuckle, briefly letting go of his cock to smear the mess he made across his flushed skin before you return to stroking him, your hand now wet and sticky from his release. "Too much?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you give a particularly sharp thrust, making him cry out. "Or too good?"  

"Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuc- Miss please, I can'tIcan'tIreallyca-" His rambles get cut off by a thrust directly to his prostate, his eyes rolling back in bliss as thick streams of cum erupt from his cock again, painting his stomach in hot bursts. His voice reaches a pitch that seems almost impossible, a desperate cry that echoes in the room, pure ecstasy spilling from his lips as he completely loses himself to pleasure.

Each pulse of his release sends another jolt through him, and he’s overwhelmed, breathless, and utterly defenseless. Spurred on by his sensitivity and mindless babbles, you only move your hips faster, slamming your hips against his ass and relishing in every sob that left his mouth. All his protests were slurred together, words that he didn't really mean — and at some point, they turn into cockdrunk praises.

"Miss please, 's-sho good i hngh- ah! M-Miss, I...I..." His voice is cracked, tears running down his face as he struggles to form coherent thoughts, lost in the haze of pleasure you’ve crafted for him. His body trembles beneath you, every thrust sending ripples of sensation coursing through him, igniting every nerve ending.

He shudders, the mix of shame and pleasure swirling within him, but there’s no denying the truth behind his moans—especially not after he’s been fucked like this. "I want more, I want-" His words dissolve into another sob, your relentless pace making it impossible to keep his thoughts straight.

"There we go, that’s the Rafayel I know. Always so needy, begging for more even after being broken." Each thrust of yours is deliberate and deep as you pick up the tempo, aiming for that sweet spot inside him that makes him see white. With every powerful slam of your hips, he feels himself unraveling all over again, drowning in a sea of bliss.

"M-Miss! A-Again, I'm gonna-!" he cries out, desperate for release yet still teetering on the edge. You can see his muscles tensing, his walls pulsing as he gets close again. 

"Good boy," you murmur, leaning down to capture his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue sweeping against his as your hips drive harder, faster. With one hand gripping his hip to steady him, your other hand wraps around his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts.

"I want you to come for me one last time, Rafayel. Let go."

With that command, his body succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure. Complete and utter bliss crashes over him, his voice rising to a desperate pitch as he comes once more, thick ropes of cum spilling from him, slicking his stomach and chest. You feel his cock throb in your hand as you continue to stroke him through his release, coaxing every last drop from him, relishing the way he trembles and writhes beneath you, utterly lost in the moment. 

His cries echo in the room, a symphony of need and satisfaction, and you can’t help but smirk into his lips. You can feel his entire body quaking beneath you, the sheer intensity of his release leaving him breathless and utterly spent. His sobs mellow out as you slow down, letting him ride out the last remnants of his high and making sure he feels every last bit of it.

"You did so well, baby," you murmur, voice soft as you pull away from his lips—your dominant, commanding disposition now fades, only leaving behind a warm smile on your face as you kiss his forehead. The contrast of your touch, gentle on his trembling body, makes him shudder, and he’s so far gone that even your whisper feels like a balm against the ache. "I know it’s overwhelming. But you took it, didn’t you? All for me."

Your words are soft, your fingers gently threading through his hair and offering him a sanctuary to recover in. He whimpers quietly, his body still shaking from the aftershocks of his release, but he melts into your embrace, his breathing slow and steadying as you comfort him.

You hold him close, the warmth of your bodies grounding you both as the frantic rhythm fades, and all that’s left behind is the quiet hum of your breaths mingling, the steady rise and fall of your chests pressed together. The world outside feels distant, inconsequential—right now, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other, basking in the afterglow.

His eyes flutter shut at your actions, a mix of tears and pleasure glistening in his gaze, overwhelmed by everything he’s just experienced. As his breathing begins to slow, you lean in and place soft kisses along his neck, sending shivers down his spine, his body so sensitive that even your softest touch makes him gasp.

He’s lost in the sweet daze of exhaustion, and with a final soft sigh, his body relaxes beneath yours. The tension leaves his limbs in waves, his pulse slowly beginning to stabilize. You hold him close, the heat of his body against yours comforting, grounding, as everything slows down.

As you feel the last shivers of pleasure fade from his body, you press one final kiss to his temple before carefully shifting your weight. “Easy, baby,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing as you place a hand on his side. Slowly, you begin to pull out, mindful of his sensitivity.

The moment you do, Rafayel whimpers, his body shuddering at the loss of fullness. His thighs twitch, and his breath hitches as the overwhelming emptiness sets in. A soft gasp escapes his lips, and he instinctively clenches around nothing, his oversensitive body quivering with every move.

You soothe him with quiet murmurs, pressing soft kisses to his damp skin as you run your fingers through his damp hair. He barely reacts beyond a faint, contented sigh, his limbs loose and pliant in your hold. His exhaustion is evident, his body sinking deeper into the mattress, boneless and spent.

“Mine,” he mumbles sleepily, his fingers curling around your wrist, holding you in place.

You smile and press another lingering kiss to his forehead. “Yours,” you promise, your voices a quiet vow in the peaceful stillness of the room.

- - -

The soft sound of your breaths mingling drift throughout the bedroom, both of you settled in the quiet aftermath, where nothing exists but the closeness between you. You carefully pull Rafayel closer, your hand lingering on his skin for a moment as you reach out to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Did I…push you too far?"

Rafayel blinks up at you, still drowsy, his expression tender and vulnerable. He exhales slowly, his fingers lazily tracing idle patterns against your hip. “No,” he murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion.

You only chuckle in response, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I see." You shift closer, pulling the blanket over the both of you. "Then…." you continue with a teasing glint in your eye, "Why were you being such a brat earlier, huh? Calling me a pain in the ass?"

Rafayel shifts in your arms, his gaze avoiding yours as if debating whether to argue. His body tenses for just a moment, but then he exhales, shoulders slumping as he gives in. ".…I just wanted your attention," he mutters, pouting slightly. His admission is quiet and laced with embarrassment and sincerity. "I meant it when I said I missed you."

"Huh. Well, you definitely got it…" You start off, softening at his hesitation and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Y'know, Raf, next time, you can just be nice. Then we can have slow, sweet make-up sex, and your ass won’t be the one suffering for it."

He groans and buries his face into your shoulder, inhaling your scent and muffling his voice. “No promises.”

You chuckle and raise an eyebrow, running a soothing hand down his back. “But I know your ass liked it, anyways.”

That causes him to huff indignantly, his grip on you tightening as you feel his lips pulling down into a deeper pout. He can’t deny it, however, and merely leaves a few tender bites on your neck in protest.

"Oh, come on," you tsk, amusement lacing your tone despite the feigned irritation. You smirk, tilting your head just enough to grant him better access. "Resorting to biting, now? Not exactly the best way to say you're upset."

Rafayel just grumbles against your skin, his warm breath sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "M'not upset," he admits, though his sulky tone says otherwise.

You hum, running your fingers lazily through his hair. "Mhm. So, what I'm hearing is...you loved every second of it, and you're just being a sore loser."

His head snaps out of your neck, his eyes narrowing at you. "I didn’t say anything,” he whines, looking a lot like a cat denied a treat.

You grin, poking at his cheek. "Didn't have to. Your body gave you away."

His groan is muffled once more as he flops onto your chest dramatically, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he settles closer, letting out a soft sigh as his fingers trace idle patterns on your skin. "You're insufferable."

"Says you," you counter, pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

Rafayel doesn’t argue this time, just grumbles something unintelligible against your chest, his fingers still lazily tracing patterns on your skin. The weight of him, the warmth he radiates, feels grounding—a stark contrast to the teasing moments before. Slowly, the playful energy between you begins to settle into something softer, something quieter. You feel the way his body melts against yours, his breathing evening out, the tension from earlier fading entirely.

As the quiet stretches between you, the world outside your little bubble feels obscure. There's only the sound of your breathing, the comfort of his body in your arms, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing you're both right where you need to be.

Rafayel was so regretful and you could see that—in the way his brows furrowed, his arms holding your frame tightly, his eyes never leaving yours, tears already glistening on his eyelashes. You could also hear that— in his whimpers and mewls, soft moans and whines that were leaving his lips uncontrollably at this point. And you could definitely feel that—in the way he was desperately kissing at your cheeks, neck and shoulders, leaving wet skin behind; in the desperate rutting of his hips against your closed thighs.

And this one time you allowed yourself to feel satisfaction because of the state you managed to put him in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, please.” He whined against your skin, his face nuzzling into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His arms held you tightly, his hips never stopping its erratic movements against your leg, sliding your skirt up in the process, desperate to feel your bare skin against his hard member. “Cutie, please. I already apologized so many times, just—please. Please, cutie? Let me in, yeah?” He looked into your eyes again, his gaze full of pleading and desperation, and you forced yourself to stay indifferent.

“Raf, no.” You answered, even though you wanted him too. But you couldn’t give in yet, not when you wanted to mess with him more for the way he treated you not so long ago. “First you scolded me for not talking to you, even though you knew that I had a rough week at work. And then, when I visited you, you called me, and I quote Rafayel, irritably clingy.” You answered, keeping your face turned away from him.

You still remember how you came into his home today, ecstatic to see him because you missed him the whole time you were away, hugging him and kissing at his mouth and cheeks happily only for him to push you away. The image of him turning his head away from you, his hand slightly pushing you away, a pout on his lips, is still vivid in your mind, making your heart squeeze painfully.

He didn’t care that you were truly busy, your legs aching from a whole week of fighting SSS-class Wanderers, your head begging for some rest. And instead of comforting you, he gave you his attitude, rejected your affection, called you clingy. You knew that most of the time he was not speaking seriously, and that he was prone to exaggeration and dramatics, but this time, you knew that you didn’t deserve such treatment.

You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine: you waited until he calmed down, then proceeded to seduce him, and when he became desperate and ready to get down to business, you were the one who pushed him away this time, refusing to let him in.

And he wasn’t taking it very well, especially after your time apart. Your previous touches ignited a flame within him, filling him with desire so tangible it was practically pouring out of him.

“So, let’s see who the clingy one really is now.” You added, and squeezed your tights even tighter, his hot breath warming your left cheek.

“Nooo, no, no, no. You know that I didn’t mean it, cutie. It was just, just a bad joke. A mistake I really regret. I really do.” His face nuzzled your cheek, hips still moving against your leg. His whimpers never-ending. “I love when you touch me. Kiss me. Hold me. I love it, you know that, you do.”

“Well, sometimes it would be great if you actually showed it to me instead of being mad at me for having a job.”

“I will! I promise, I will. I promise. I’m sorry.” He brought your body closer to himself, his arms going up and down your waist in a comforting gesture. “Let me in, please, you—you riled me up and—and left me, and I can’t, I can’t, I need to be inside you, please.”

“Rafayel…” You breathed out, your hands going to cup his warm cheeks, his pleading eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t give in that easily. “No.”

He choked out a cry.

And you saw how he snapped, his jaw tightened and eyes closed, one tear slipping away. Then another, and another, until he completely broke down, his face now wet, a pout on his lower lip, his hands touching your whole body erratically.

“Please. I’ll be good. I will.” He whimpered, completely out of control. You knew that until you gave him your consent, he would not force you to do anything. And the way he respected your wishes, although his whole body was trembling while he knew, he felt that you wanted him too despite your negations, was starting to made your resolve wither. “I’ll make you feel s’good. S’good like I always do, just—please. Open up for me?”

You shook your head and his lower lip trembled in response, his head going to rest on your shoulder, his hair wet and cold, making you shiver. He was sweating so bad. His hips were still rutting against your leg, but you knew that it wasn’t nearly enough for him; the friction only made him feel more impatient.

He choked out another broken cry, took your hand in his, kissed your knuckles, and continued kissing up your arm. You didn’t know how long you’ll be able to keep denying him, it was the first time you saw him acting so desperate, so pathetic for you and your need to comfort him was starting to become unbearable.

His glossy eyes met yours and you saw how red his lips were from how much he had been biting them. He leaned down and placed a soft, wet kiss on your lips. One. Two. Three kisses. All of them gentle, all of them apologetic.

“Please.” He whispered into your lips. Another kiss came, as soft and warm as the ones before. “—M—Mommy, please. I’m sorry.” The word that slipped from his lips was new, your eyes widening, your core squeezing on nothing but air.

Oh, god.

“Will you forgive me? Mommy, please, w—will you?” You looked at his face between his soft, gentle kisses and you’ve noticed how red he was, the embarrassment spreading up from the tips of his ears, down to his chest. “L-Let me make you feel good. I’ll be a good boy. The best boy.”

Your head was spinning, your cheeks turning red too. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hide how much you liked when he called you that way. God, what was he doing to you?

“Mommy, let me in. I need you. I need you s’bad I—” He opened his eyes and pressed a kiss to your brow and eyes, his hands shakily caressing your hair. “Don’t be mad anymore, okay? I just—I just can’t live without you that’s why I—That’s why I said these things. I always worry that you’ll forget about me and that’s why I’m gettin’ so defensive and mean. But I know you won’t, because you love me, and I love you and—i’m sorry.” He looked into your eyes and you had a feeling that if he won’t stop talking he was going to make you cry too.

You hugged him to yourself tightly and he reciprocated the hug immediately, his head resting on your chest. He sniffed and started to calm down, his body no longer shaking.

“I do love you, Rafayel.” You said into his hair, and you made him look up again, your hands going to grab his wet cheeks. His eyes glistened with hope, his lips swollen and wet. He looked so adorable that you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. “Next time you’ll miss me, just text me okay? Tell me how you feel, and no matter how busy I will be, I will find time to at least send you a voice message. And I will try to keep you updated when I’m away on missions.” He nodded happily, and you swiped the tears off of his cheeks. “But please, don’t push me away when I miss you just as badly. I get hurt too.”

“Yes. Yes, I won’t, I promise. I do.” He answered and kissed the palm of your hand, nuzzling into it. “I’m really sorry. I will never do that again. I swear.”

“Okay.” You answered quietly and then loosened up your thighs, making a place for him between your legs. His breath came out shakily, his cock immediately landing on top of your panties. Your skirt had been pushed up long ago, the material now resting on your stomach, giving him an easy access to where he wanted to be buried in from the very beginning.“Now come to me, my little fishie.”

He pressed a wet kiss on your mouth once again, and before you knew it he quickly grabbed your panties to the side and slid right into you, making you gasp both in surprise and out of pleasure.

He slipped the tongue between your lips and kissed you without mercy, his hips snapping quickly and erratically, the rhythm uneven, the force of the thrusts relentless.

Suddenly, he cried into your mouth, his whole body shuddering and then going completely still. You felt the reason why a second later.

The warmth spread inside you, overwhelming your senses.

“F—Fuck, sorry, I—I didn’t mean to…So fast…” He managed to utter, his body still shaking in the aftershocks of his sudden orgasm. Your hands went up to his hair, stroking the strands gently, showing him that you didn’t mind, wanting him to calm down and let himself drown in the pleasure.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well.” His face was red, his eyes avoiding yours, and you smiled gently at him. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and swiped your hand on his chest affectionately. “My sweet baby boy.”

“Yeah, yours.” His hips started to move again, making you moan in surprise. You wrapped your legs around him and he put one of his arms under your back, lifting you in order to make his thrusts reach deeper. “Always, yours. Only yours.” The pace was getting quicker, your moans mixing with his grunts, your heartbeats although unsteady, seemed to match each other’s tempo.

“M-mommy can I—Can I come inside again? I—I can’t stop.” He almost whispered into your ear, and you shuddered, the pleasure spreading throughout your whole body in the form of goosebumps. His lips were not leaving your body, pressing kisses on any patch of skin he could reach. “I missed you too much. You’re so warm. So safe.”

Rafayel’s beautiful eyes met yours, the purple somehow standing out in the darkness of the night. He send you a gentle smile, his thrusts slowing down, the movements becoming more precise and controlled.

“I don’t want the night to end, cutie.” He said quietly, as if he was sharing a secret. His hands cupped your cheeks and he studied your face, searching for any sign of pleasure. He wanted to know if he was making you feel as good as he promised he would. “Let me make it all better. I will show you how sorry I truly am, my love.”

The night was just getting started. And after several hours of moving rhythmically against each other, loosing yourselves in your passionate embrace, the sunrise was a witness to Rafayel’s vow; your wet bodies and tangled limbs a good enough proof of his fulfilled promise.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

GOD i’m so embarrassed. I wrote it in like half an hour and it SHOWS forgive me. I’ve never in my life written something so short and filthy. If u liked it screenshot it bc i’m not sure i will let it haunt tumblr for long 💀 UPDATE: OKAY I HEAR U I WON’T DELETE IT I SWEAR!!!! I had no idea it would be SO therapeutic for all of us thats actually so sad dndbsb ENJOY!

So Rafayel’s whole deal in this memory, I believe, is dependency. Like, too much intensity, too much need, too much fear -- about scaring her off, about what he sees himself possibly becoming in the future, overall just being too reliant on mc and getting scared by it.

Let's begin with this massive fear of being a taker, not just in the “I’m stealing someone’s fries” way, but in this existential, soul-deep kind of way where he’s terrified of turning everything he loves into something he exploits out of demand for his art. And yeah, it’s sad when you first hear him say it, but it’s also really interesting when you look at how this all ties into his relationship with MC and his inspiration source drying up because of her.

Before Rafayel became an artist, he looked at the world in this super pure, wholesome way. Sceneries and nature were just there, things to admire and feel awe over without needing to do anything about it. Like, imagine standing at the edge of a desert, looking at a sea that’s drying up. Sure, it’s tragic, but it’s also kind of beautiful in a raw, heartbreaking way. That’s how Rafayel saw things, he could appreciate them without feeling like he had to do anything.

But then Rafayel started creating, and suddenly, sceneries weren’t just sceneries anymore. They became inspiration. He wasn’t just admiring beauty, he was extracting something from it, its meaning, its pain, its soul, to turn into art for other people. And that made him feel all kinds of icky, because now he wasn’t just looking at the drying sea. He was taking from it. Just as he's using his people's pain in his art as well, that's also a thing.

Now let’s talk about MC. Rafayel loves her like he used to love those sceneries,,, in this pure, untainted way. There's a parallel here. But here’s the kicker, he’s not the same guy who can just admire something and leave it untouched anymore.

And suddenly, this is no longer only about losing inspiration for him.

This happens after he and MC get together, and it’s like all the pain and anguish that used to fuel his creativity just.. ... dries up. He can’t find that spark anymore because now his life is surrounded by love instead of suffering. In fact, his inspiration starts coming from her and it's starting to clash with how he makes art. In the phone call, he seeks her out and says he needs her so bad and she only needs to talk to help him out. This is the first wink wink nod nod of the story.

So what does Rafayel do? He goes on this big, dramatic trip to "find inspiration" (or at least his muse), but it’s not just about his art. He’s not just looking for inspiration, he’s trying to figure out how to be less dependent on her and becoming increasingly more restless over this. The temparature and physical discomfort is making things worse, he's anxiously overthinking, and imagine trying to fight this and the longest art block as of late off when all you want to do is indulge in this special person and be comforted like a lap cat all day every day.

He understands that if he lets himself indulge without restraint, one day his love for mc will turn into pure need. He’ll become more and more greedy, and he doesn’t want that and is afraid of being abandoned because of that growing neediness and dependency.

This is in relation to his art, because as @/dat-silvers-girl put in the comments, he's struggling with "the genuine fear of not being able to enjoy anything in life because all you're thinking about how to use it (as an artist)" . what if he starts doing this to her? to their love and relationship? take from her, and become someone who only takes in every area of life -- like someone who only exploits things by extracting what he feels about them to use it for his art. he's afraid of that, he doesn't like that and possibly doesn't like himself who does it. so why should she? she would leave him for sure, in his head, that's a solid reason to.

The first time around he brings up his anxiety about MC leaving him out of the inner realization of his dependency, the possibility of just what he can become, and fear of abandonment. she effortlessly soothes his worries. It's heavily implied they did it afterwards and after hearing "her life has already been consumed by him" he tweaked out a little bit and his "obsession" seeped through.

After it fades to black, he says ほら……僕もとっくに……君に侵食されてしまっているんだ…… which means "See... I've already been completely consumed by you too" in Japanese instead of the life being made a chaotic mess localization. While I think MC's line was jokey and lighthearted, I don't think this man is joking at all. Rafayel didn't say his life was consumed by her as well, he said HE was consumed. Ouh.

This took the edge off from him for a while but they hadn't gotten to the root of the problem yet, so he was back to square one after the memorial hall, because remember, he's trying to find inspiration as an act of making this dependency of his better. Pain and suffering are all around him here, which his inspiration feeds off of. The dried up ocean he could hear weakening, the skeleton of the whale, the burden of his people and homeland more prominent than before. And what does MC do? Tear through the perspective of pain and introduce a hopeful alternative, "Isn't it a surprise to see an ocean in the middle of the desert?"

This is a place that gave Rafayel the height of helplessness and suffering when he visited by himself before despite momentarily being hopeful after the locals told him such a place existed. But now, she was there to comfort him through his loneliness and pain, hug him, and give him hope yet again. He brings up how he wanted to come here with the most important person to him when he was still hopeful about it before consumed by the pain of it all, and that wish has been granted. That moment has to be so powerful for Rafayel. Literally light at the end of the tunnel.

It had me reeling that he just sat in the car after all that, staring at her for god knows how long until she woke up. He was probably overthinking again, but my interpretation that it was heavily emotional for him (it could have meant so little for MC but the world for him, she doesn't even know) and he wanted to be in that moment with her, just feel and look without restraint. Indulge a little. (I can just imagine him going just a little bit more, I'll go after she wakes up.) And like. His eyes are shining in the darkness is the description here. Perhaps he was feeling so much here. So much love. So much happiness. And he's about to go in for a kiss (heavy breathing and everything) after that, but holds himself back and actively has to pry himself away. He's feeling the neediness again.

That’s why he makes an effort to actively wean himself off and says he'll be okay on his own. What he says to her after MC is like "spoiling him" being all "hey you're sick maybe don't go? or let's go together?" (which is NOT helping Rafayel at all) is even more meaningful in Japanese and I didn't know why they left out this context, but the rearranged line would be "Do you want me to become a sea creature beached on the sand after the sea recedes, unable to breathe on my own ever again?"

Yeah. YEAH. This is about dependency. (He's saying don't coddle me I'll literally become that wolf tearing his shirt meme 😭)

So of course his stubbornness and anxiety force him to do things without MC and distance himself, he can do it. He’s determined to prove to himself that he can endure it on his own.

I also feel like part of the reason he insisted on going to the salon alone is that he’s still worried mc might come to dislike the version of him who's someone he's so sure she will leave, who isn't perfect and he hides behind the persona he's put up just for her. If he truly becomes addicted to her and shows her everything/his true self, and she ends up leaving him, it would completely break him. He's trying to be like "im so normal about her haha" but he's so not normal about her at all. He's literally obsessed I feel like, and perhaps this is him fighting it knowing it's not healthy.

and OOOH about why he ends up coming back from the salon all hot and bothered.

I have strong context that she flicked the bean in there after he left her high and dry in the car ("hot water washes away the stickiness from my body and his stifled breaths still echo in my ears, enveloping me along with the steam in the bathroom. The warmth from his fingertips lingers in the places where he touched me..." is the english. however, in chinese, it goes "熱水洗去身上的黏膩，壓抑的喘息迴盪在我耳畔，和浴室裡氤氳的水氣一起包裹著我." stating "the suppressed breathing" -- which doesn't have any possessive adjectives when I translated it on google and later explicitly asked chatgpt if it had any his/my adjectives involved, just to be sure. it said no but i'd like it if a real chinese speaking person could give their input on this !!! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME WITH CHATGPT

so um. if the context is in fact the case that he heard her masturbating to him, the intensity with which he attacked her would be normal, I think 😭

I have belief that MC unconsciously shatters his "training himself to be without her" determination through their bond. She just keeps thinking about him the entire time. about him reading her thoughts, though. we still don't know all about the lemurian bond they share. I’d say it grants him some sort of mind/heart reading ability or connects their minds together (when she was thinking about whether she should hug him, he answered “yes”).

At the salon, I imagine Rafayel was already thinking about her like crazy. Then he realized, or perhaps, "heard" she was still worrying about him and thinking of him (as much he thought about her) and decided to go back. Rafayel probably felt that suppressing himself was only making her more anxious and unsettled. She's thinking all about him, unconsciously calling to him to come to her, she didn't want to let him go at all, wanted to go with him, etc...

but even if it was his own decision and no mind reading was involved... uh. If you ask me. He did quite literally hear her after coming back. That's also something that might make him think she wants him as much as he wants her, which made his self-restraint utterly meaningless from the start.

Disregarding this theory of mine proven wrong until a Chinese speaker helps me out here, MC returned to Rafayel's room. A translation omission happened here from what I saw. There are no possessive adjectives in the Chinese text about the room she returns to, and the Japanese one states she returned to the guest room (doesn't specify which one. She was also able to enter Rafayel's room without needing to knock before.)

so uh. she went into rafayel's room y'all. the line "this is my room, you're the one who walked in here" MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE. (SO LIKE. NOT ONLY DID SHE GO INTO HIS ROOM, SHE FLICKED THE BEAN THERE AND HE POSSIBLY HEARD IT. SHE'S MORE OF A FREAK THAN HE IS, I UNDERSTAND WHY HE LET GO AFTER THAT LMFAO)

I don't put it past him to get worked up after he finds her in his room post-bath even without my theory lmfao (idk why they put her in a dress when she should be in a bathrobe or something 😭)

His conclusion at the end of this memory that "he finds inspiration in pain and the art of creation is a part of his life. mc made him realize love and art are so alike. even if they don't complete him but burn him instead he wants them (love and art) with every fiber of his being" and MC says she doesn't like that, rightfully so.

So like. There's SO MUCH to unpack in here.

When Rafayel says he finds inspiration in pain and that creation is a part of his life, he’s admitting something raw and essential about himself: pain isn’t just a byproduct of his art, it’s intrinsic to it. For Rafayel, pain and art are intertwined in a way that’s almost inseparable. It’s like his muse isn’t just beauty, but beauty that hurts.

But then he takes this further by connecting art to love. He’s realized that both art and love demand the same from him: vulnerability, passion, and sometimes suffering. They don’t necessarily complete him (he’s not romanticizing them as salvation), but they burn him, wear him down, consume him (coincidentally, this is something he said to MC in the JP dub of this memory, that she consumes him), but also give him life. And for Rafayel, that’s the crux, even if they burn him, he wants them with every fiber of his being.

This is such a Rafayel thing to say. It’s dramatic, it’s tortured, but it’s also deeply SUBTLE. He doesn't spell all of these out, mind you, I got a headache trying to understand him. Or I'm just slow, I don't know. It shows how much he values creation and connection, even if they come at a cost.

MC, on the other hand, challenges this perspective. When she says she doesn’t like that he views love and art as things that burn him, she’s pushing back against the idea that suffering is a necessary part of creation, or love. MC doesn’t want Rafayel to see their relationship as something that requires him to hurt. She’s telling him, “You don’t have to destroy yourself to love me.”

When MC says, “You’ll never have to burn for me,” she’s giving Rafayel an alternative to his destructive mindset. She’s saying that love doesn’t have to hurt, that their relationship can exist without him sacrificing himself on the altar of passion. It’s a refusal to let Rafayel romanticize pain as the price of love.

And I love that Rafayel goes, "Will you help me look for other parts in life outside of pain?" in response. This is NOT about art or inspiration anymore, and the way the dialogue is written is just AUGH. Again I had to rewatch this over and over again for the nuances and subtext.

I love MC's response, she knew exactly what to say. “I’ll always be the one who walks along the shore with you. Of course, diving into the sea bed is fine too. If it can snow in the desert, there will be a day when the ocean returns.”

MC’s response is layered with metaphors, but at its core, it’s about unwavering support and hope::

Walking along the shore: This represents safety and companionship. MC is saying she’ll be with Rafayel in the calm, in the moments where they’re just observing life without diving into its depths. She’ll be his steady presence, his grounding force.

Diving into the sea bed: This is an acknowledgment that life and love sometimes require going deeper and they may go through hardships, into the unknown, the murky, the challenging. MC isn’t afraid of this, she’s willing to go there with him too.

Snow in the desert and the ocean’s return: This is a symbol of hope and transformation beyond being a nod to The Sea of Golden Sand. Snow in the desert seems impossible, just like the idea of Rafayel finding inspiration outside of pain might feel impossible to him. But MC believes in the extraordinary, in change, and in the possibility that beauty and creation can exist outside of suffering.

Her words are a promise: she’s willing to stand by him, to face the unknown together, and to hold onto the belief that a new way of seeing the world is possible.

And Rafayel LOWKEY PROPOSES IN RETURN.

By saying “let’s watch the sea together,” he’s accepting MC’s offer of companionship and hope in the long run. He’s recognizing that life doesn’t have to be about diving into the depths alone, it can be about sharing the experience with someone else, even if it’s just standing on the shore and watching.

“Every sea”: This phrase is key. Rafayel isn’t just committing to one kind of life or one kind of inspiration, he’s opening himself up to all possibilities. Watching every sea means embracing all facets of life, whether they’re calm or turbulent, painful or beautiful. It’s a marriage proposal declaration that he’s ready to explore the world beyond pain, with MC by his side.

So. I love that his inspiration returns after his freak is accepted by MC because he literally feels the acceptance through the bond.

"What's going on? Why is everyone gathered in her Highness's throne room?"

"Didn't you hear? Messengers from every corner of the land brought these so-called "gifts" for her highness"

"Gifts?"

"It's to alleviate her boredom, apparently..."

You continued to listen to the unnecessary chattering of the maids surrounding the room, holding back from rolling your eyes at how ridiculous the entire situation was.

This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't escaped the palace for the 10th time this month.

It can't be helped. Your boredom was going to kill you before your age did, what's so wrong with wanting to see the outside world once in a while?

You were getting tired of every offer given by other Kingdoms and Empires through men. It was starting to get old by how they all carried good looks but no talent in bed, even a few aphrodisiacs couldn't satisfy you.

You weren't the best princess out there. Rebellious, cruel and salacious. Those were the words often used by others to describe you, most people expect a princess to be on their best behaviour, kind-hearted and pure, but you couldn't care less about such unimportant things.

"Bring them in, quickly" You wasted no time in telling the female messenger, and she nodded before clapping twice as a signal.

As of right now, while your eyes stared into the men walking in the room with attires of different erotic styles, your brain was stuck on finding another way to escape, and where you would visit once you had succeeded.

"Your Highness, have a look. These men are all pleasing to the eye"

Without realizing it, you let out a disappointed and stress-filled sigh. Make the female messenger take it as you are feeling unsatisfied with the line of men in front of you.

You didn't bother clearing up the misunderstanding as you would have preferred them all gone anyway, but then you watched as the female messenger winked at the group. They all suddenly made way for a certain individual.

"Would your highness be open to a handsome Lemurian to stroke the flames of your curiousity?" She said with a proud smile.

Your eyes immediately found a place on the violet-haired man, wearing a gold-adorned outfit that barely did anything to cover his erotic body. The sight was quite a surprise as you never expected to hear the words "Lemurian" along with it.

Without realization, you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face.

Watching how the Lemurian man looked uninterested while maintaining eye contact with you, his hands were tied with thick cuffs to prevent him from trying to escape. Maybe that's why he didn't look too happy.

"Very well, the rest can leave" You waved off the female messenger and her group of men away, signalling the maids to escort them out as you got up from your seat.

You walked down from your throne and stood in front of the Lemurian man, eyeing him closely. His eyes were in a mixed hue of blue, purple and pink, beautiful and unique like how they said Lemurians would be.

Every mole on his face and body was being observed from your lenses, you could tell how nervous he became from having your lecherous gaze on him, you could feel his breath against the top of your head as he avoided making eye contact with you.

Feeling impatient, you used your finger to hook onto the jewellery on his neck, giving him a small tug as you walked him towards your bedroom like you would with a dog on a leash. Surprising him but knowing that following you instead of struggling would do him less trouble.

The entire walk down the corridor towards your room was silent, all you could hear was his bare feet making tiny pitter-patter noises as your heels clicked in a rush, your mind was bent on one thing only this evening.

To tame this Lemurian as your own.

Before you could notice the smirk on your face, you threw the male onto your bed, watching him gasp in shock from the sudden impact, his eyes immediately locking into yours as you had both your hands on the sides of his head, pinning him with nowhere else to look but you.

"I've been waiting for a Lemurian to fall onto my hand for a while now..." You spoke in a hushed voice, laced with a hint of arousal. Whoever put him in this outfit was going to be rewarded handsomely.

"I heard the creatures of the sea possess beautiful voices, won't you entertain me?"

As you asked him the question, you could see him frown before turning his head away from your gaze in an attempt to protest your request. It seems that he was playing hard to get.

"Well, I do like it when they put up a little fight" You let out a wicked laugh, watching his face look nervous once more. Maybe he could tell you were a bit crazy through the look in your eyes.

However, you weren't interested in playing with a toy that wasn't working. So you decided to throw your body down to lie next to the violet-haired male, heaving out a sigh as you stretch your arms. Your actions make the individual beside you flinch and stare at you in confusion.

"If you don't plan on speaking, then you will never be free from this place," You told him, your eyes shut with your arms resting at the back of your head, legs crossed creating a position of an unfeminine and careless manner.

"I was born in this very palace, and I will die here without a single ounce of freedom"

Curious to know if he was listening, you opened your eyes to gaze at him once more, he had already been sat up, facing you with a distrustful look, but still interested in what you had to say.

"If you don't believe me, think about how empty the palace is. How there isn't a single man, and why I need these messengers to find me another man every week" You watched his face soften, and while what you were saying could be true, most of it was to get him to open up to you.

A cruel princess you may be.

You weren't lying when you said you were lonely. But hinting to him that you let the men that came to your chambers off to "save" them was definitely a lie. You just didn't find them entertaining after a week.

"You will be no difference. After a week you can go back to your home, and I will find another man to bring into my chambers"

You switched your position to laying onto your stomach, hand resting under your chin as your other hand went to poke the Lemurian's stomach, tracing his abs.

"...If you agree, speak your name" You didn't bother to look at his face as you had a smile imprinted on your face, finding entertainment in tracing nonexistent patterns on his muscular body.

It took a silence so deep you could hear your own breath, waiting for a reply from the male. But after a few more seconds, you concluded that he just wasn't interested in what you had to offer, so you took your hand off his body, pushing yourself up.

"Rafayel"

You froze, hands resting on the bed as your head snapped to look at the Lemurian's face, you observed the look on his face. He seemed calm and willing this time, seeing him look so obedient had you grinning, your eyes squinting by how big you were smiling as you pushed your face forward to his.

"No takebacks" You pressed your lips into his, feeling him gasp in your mouth, however, he didn't protest, letting you kiss him so rough that you had him lie back down on the bed as your body hovered over his once more.

Right when you were getting into the mood, you pulled away from his lips, clicking your tongue in annoyance while Rafayel panted from how intense your kissing was. Rafayel's hands were right on your belly, the cold hard metal that was holding his hands in place was making you uncomfortable.

"I'll uncuff you. That is if you can promise me you'll be good"

The Lemurian didn't seem responsive, instead, he was just panting restlessly, partly to catch his breath or to regain his composure. Not noticing how lewd his face looked and that the pupils in his eyes turned to slits. You took his silence as an agreement to what you said and brought the cuffs to your face.

It seemed like it didn't need a key to unlock. Instead, it had a switch similar to what bracelets have. You pressed on the poking metal and watched the cuff on his right hand unlock, falling loosely as you did the same with his left.

You carelessly threw the metal cuffs to the ground, not caring what would happen to it. Right when you were going to resume what you've been longing to do for a while, you felt two hands grip your wrists before tossing you onto the bed, switching positions of you and Rafayel.

"Ugh!" You grunted at the impact. Eyes locked in with Rafayel's, which went from an innocent, obedient look to a look that held something similar to that of an untamed dog. Unruly, and incapable of self-control.

Not wanting to back down from simply being pinned down, you smirked at Rafayel. Cocking your head upwards with a scoff, watching the Lemurian's eyes glow in a blue similar to the ocean. Before he could proceed with whatever he was planning on doing, you cut in.

"If you plan to get a strike and run away, it won't end well for you" You warned, making it clear that you weren't phased by him.

"It will start with the entire Empire distraught about what happened to their princess. Then every man and woman alike will go through every end of the world to find the messengers of their respective Empire or Kingdom that sent you to me. War will break out" You felt the grip on your wrists tighten, but you didn't bother to stop.

"And then they will aim for your people. No Lemurian in the sea will be left alive, they will skin your tails, gouge your pretty eyes, rip your scales off, and every bone of yours will be taken care of" Your eyes darkened as you watched Rafayel's face grow angrier.

"Every. Single. One"

You felt him release his grip on one of your hands, lifting up his own to create a ball of fire in an attempt to burn you right on the spot. Your provoking was so intense it had a man of the sea create fire. What a spectacle this man was.

Seeing as how you were in awe, he paused from throwing the fire at you. Waiting to see what else you would do. You happily gave him the expectation he needed.

You slowly sat up to not provoke him any further, before using the hand that was free to touch his right cheek. Thumb brushed over the mole as he stared at you with wide eyes, confused as to what you were doing now.

"Don't worry. Those things can't happen if I'm alive. I'm the princess of the most influential and powerful Empire there is here. Kings and Queens all over the world send me their sons so that they could be on good terms with us" You assured him, caressing his cheek as you would with a lover.

"As long as you're mine, no one will harm you"

Hearing you calmly whisper, Rafayel took a second before extinguishing the fire in his palm, then placing his hand to press against the bed sheets. The blue glow in his eye had also disappeared, which signalled you that he was now approachable.

"...We could even create a treaty between humans and Lemurians" You initiated, gently grabbing his hand and using it to trace it towards your stomach.

"Right...here..."

Pregnancy. You were insisting on having a child with a Lemurian man. You could see the utter shock on Rafayel's face. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but your people don't call you a tyrant for nothing. Because the look on your eyes showed that you had not a drop of humanity in you.

Without noticing it, Rafayel looked at you with pity.

"If I give you what I want, you will set me free" Your ears perked at the voice of the Lemurian man. How nice would his moans be if you had him inside you at this instant.

But he was a whole other species. A race with animalistic features. So you had to play it slow and steady. Luring in the snake before cutting off its fangs.

"Of course"

Now the one who was pushing their lips onto the other was Rafayel. You gladly let him take the initiative, since usually you would have to do all the work, so it would be nice to have a change of pace in things.

His style of kissing was similar to that of a lover. He didn't let his nervousness or hesitance show in his actions. Instead, he was determined, hungry even. Yet so gentle and experienced. Perhaps he's done it before with other women.

If that's the case, then it saves you the trouble of having to teach another man from scratch.

You guided his hand that was on your stomach lower to where your expensively embroidered pants were. Using his big, veiny hand to rub onto your lower region. Making him open his eyes and look down when he felt how warm and wet you were.

Without asking, he slipped his hand into your pants, feeling your pussy bare, covered completely in your juices making it easier for him to play with it.

You felt his fingers tease around your hole, rubbing up and down to gather your slick lubricant for his fingers before sticking them inside easily. Making you let out a moan that released you off your starvation to be touched, you removed your lips from his to give yourself better access to moan.

"A-Ah yes! Just like that" You gripped his wrist harder, guiding him to press all the right spots. Suddenly feeling the need to make a joke at the same time.

"Mmph! How lucky the other ladies are to have a piece of you before me, huh?" You let out a messy laugh, letting out another moan when you felt him press a particular spot harder.

"Stop talking" He warned, however seeing him frown at you made you want to coo at how innocent he looked, like a child that had his candy stolen from him.

"Then make me" You wrapped your hand around his neck and pressed his lips against yours for the third time.

You relish in the taste of his soft lips on yours, part of you wishes he would use those lips and work on your body instead of his hands, but you don't want to rush art in its process.

While you had your hole thrust in and out by Rafayel's fingers, you used your free hands to brush onto his body, feeling every bump of his perfectly sculpted abs on your fingers, if you weren't so preoccupied with his fingers inside, you would have smirked at how you could feel him lose composure from a simple touch.

Soon enough you felt like his fingers weren't enough for you. So you decided to take back the initiative and grab him by his arms, promptly pushing him onto the bed and crawling up to move your hips forward, your pants lowering down in the process.

Now his eyes were facing your soaking wet pussy, slightly throbbing from the loss of his slender fingers inside you. Rafayel stared at the leaking hole for a few seconds before averting his eyes to look up at you. To which you greeted his lost look with a large grin, nothing but pure arousal in your face.

"Go on"

You egged the Lemurian man on, he didn't seem to hesitate when his eyes went back to looking down at your pussy, and then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking up the juices that were spilling out of you, neglecting your swollen clit so far.

A satisfied moan escapes your lips. The same lips that you had praised for being so soft and lewd were now suckling and licking up all your pussy had to offer, like he was cleaning up all the marks left by the other men you had slept with.

"Y-Yes...Good boy..." You bit your lower lip, running your fingers through his violet-coloured hair to guide his lips further to the perfect spots of your pussy. His nose slightly brushed against your clit.

It seemed that the tiny praise you gave to the Lemurian made him more excited than you thought because right when you praised him, you felt two large hands grope your asscheeks, pulling you forward to Rafayel's mouth, his lips latching onto your neglected clit at the same time.

You couldn't help but let out a noise of shock and pleasure, the sudden warmth and aggression in his tongue caught you off guard as all you could do was hold onto the headboard of the bed and have your legs twitch from every continuous lick he was giving to your pussy.

With the pace he had, it didn't take long before you felt yourself slowly inching closer to your orgasm. You couldn't even let out a noise to indicate that you were close because of how needy you were, it was like finally having a gulp of water after spending days in a desert.

"A-Argh- Fuck!" You groaned.

Like an instinct, you pushed his face closer to your pussy as if it weren't already close enough. Probably having his teeth touch your skin but you couldn't tell, you were too busy using Rafayel's face like how you would use a pillow at night.

You were so busy riding out your own release that you didn't even notice how the Lemurian man's eyes rolled back from the sudden pressure of his face being used for your own satisfaction, the arousing smell of your juices wouldn't go wasted as he would attempt to gulp down every single drop. Seriously, where did he learn to do all this?

Without care, you threw his head back onto the pillow before cupping his face and bombarding it with kisses, aiming from his cheek to his neck, planting kiss marks from your lipstick and leaving a few hickeys behind. Tarnishing his clean body with your bite marks.

"So gorgeous.." Another praise left your mouth.

Once you were proud of the work you left on his body, you pulled off your pants completely. Making sure Rafayel's eyes never left yours as you did so, throwing them away somewhere at the corner of the room before you pulled down the navy blue embroidered pants he had on as well, before turning your back on him and rubbing your wet cunt all over his rock hard cock.

"Little Lemuria's quite excited, huh?" You teased, watching his dazed expression never change. He was definitely out of it.

You made sure all the saliva and juices on your pussy coated his dick completely, you could tell he was getting impatient from how his leg would hold itself back from hiking up each time you rubbed your soft cunt onto his shaft, but you weren't looking forward in rushing such a valuable moment.

When you felt like you got his cock wet enough, you held his dick with your palm, feeling your own cum slipping through your fingers as you slowly pushed it inside of you, letting out a large sigh of relief when you finally got to feel something large and veiny as his cock.

Without wasting another second you moved your hips back and forth, letting his cock hit you from every spot you had inside, and also giving him a good view of your ass as you continued to tease him with the way you rocked your hips.

Right when you made him believe you were just going to rock on his dick, you lifted your hips up and slammed yourself down, earning a loud moan from both you and him. The sudden action shocked Rafayel to the point his hands reached up to grab your waist while you continued to ram his dick deep inside you.

"Mmph! Yes! Right there!"

The pace you created from simply hopping up and down his dick became too intense that Rafayel couldn't keep up anymore. His eyes would fail to gain focus once you brought him closer to his release through the teasing you did earlier. Not hiding the moans that followed the closer you got to your orgasm.

"U-Ugh! A-Almost!"

You clenched your pussy while letting out a loud moan, the impact he had on your hole was far stronger than your impact on his dick since you clearly cared about reaching your own orgasm first. To which you did a few seconds before Rafayel could cum as well.

While you were trying to keep yourself up after completely raw dogging yourself onto his cock, you let out a gasp when you felt your body being pushed forward, your arms being held behind your back as you felt a harsh thrust snap to hips and a deep press inside your cervix.

A loud guttural moan left your mouth as you were forced into a position where the Lemurian man had his way with you, you couldn't see his face, but you could tell by the way he was holding back his growls that he was chasing after the orgasm you denied him from achieving.

You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you couldn't as all your energy was lost from the first two orgasms you had, all you could do was moan desperately while you continued to feel Rafayel's cock gushing in and out of your hole that twitched uncontrollably.

Thanks to you being sensitive, the clamps your pussy made on Rafayel's dick made him reach his high quicker than anticipated. He gives his few final thrusts by pushing your hips so far that your stomach and face are now pressing onto the sheets, you are about to reach your third orgasm.

You hear Rafayel moan in relief as he completely filled your hole up with his cum. Feeling the warm substance gush out of your hole and run down your legs as you came on his dick once more. Eyes roll to the back of your head, leading to nothing but pitch blackness on your sight.

When you two were finally satisfied, all you could hear was the heavy breathing that came out from both your mouths. You couldn't move your body anymore, all you could do was lie on the bed with your ass facing Rafayel, you might as well sleep at that moment.

And sleep you did.

The last thing you felt was the warm embrace of the Lemurian man, you didn't expect him to be so gentlemanly, taking care of you while you were unconscious. He would make it harder for you to let him go.

But to your surprise, he was already gone the moment you woke up.

At first, you were frantic. Threatening to kill everyone in the palace if they didn't tell you his whereabouts, but it seemed that the little fish was quite sneaky, as everyone reported to have never seen him.

Eventually, you gave up. The only one time you finally found something interesting and exhilarating in your mundane life sat right at your palm, and you let it get away.

Moving on was easy, but your body no longer wanted to feel the touch of another man. Every day the maids and messengers would present you with a line of gorgeous men, but you barely even spared a glance, the only thing imprinted in your brain was that god darned Lemurian.

A week would have already passed since then. And you would find yourself laying on the same bed he was on with you, bored out of your mind.

"Stupid Lemurian. Bewitching me" You cursed, tossing a grape at the wall, watching it bounce off and fall onto the floor.

You were bent on revenge. If you ever see him again, you are going to turn him into your slave, that is for sure.

"I hope I won't be turned into seafood if I let your highness come with me"

Immediately, you sat up in shock. Not noticing you had almost crushed the grape in your hand when you heard a familiar voice. Your head snapped to look at your bedroom window, and there stood a familiar man with violent-coloured hair and purple-hued eyes.

"You..." You muttered. Eyes frantically observing his new look. He had a gorgeous attire of blues, and his skin was covered in these symbolic marks.

You watched him have a serious look on his face, arms crossed as he eyed the grape you had in your hand. Curious about what you were so determined to throw at your walls.

"That's wasting food, princess" Compared to the man he was before, he sounded more cocky and mighty. Almost like a king.

You tried to find the words to retort at him. But all you could do was gaze at him in awe, the beauty he held must have increased tenfold from this past week, so this was what he would truly look like in Lemuria.

Snapping yourself out of the daze you were in, you stood up and ran towards him, finger-pointing at his chest as you furrowed your eyebrows and faced him.

"You bewitched me! And to add on, you had the gall to leave me after bedding me! You sly fish!" You yelled, finger poking a hole into his chest as he let out a chuckle.

"Oh! Funny is it?" You spat, watching his eyes trace itself to grab your arm that was poking him, you still had the grape in your hand.

Rafayel slowly kissed your arm, then brought his face to your hand. Where he took the grape in his lips and ate it whole, chewing the fruit inside his mouth and gulping it in front of you, then planting a kiss onto your hand.

The entire gesture left you speechless. Now you were definitely convinced that this man was trying to bewitch you. Your mind circled in thoughts on how dare he touch you so casually that you didn't notice how red your face was.

"Come with me, princess" He offered, eyes staring into yours.

"..." You didn't question him. Because you knew fully well that you would do wonders to leave the place. But you knew you couldn't, especially when you've done so countless of times.

"I can't. They'll find me and kill you. It's not worth the risk" You reasoned, eyes darkening with disappointment in your own words.

"I'd like to see them try and kill the God of Tides" He laughed at your words, to which you frowned in confusion.

"What does the God of Tides have anything to do with you?" Not realizing how stupid your question sounded, you watched as Rafayel looked at you with an arched eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

"...No way" Your eyes widened before moving your head up and down to take a good look at his attire once more.

Rafayel wasn't just some Lemurian lost on land. He was a Sea God.

"Goodness," You blurted out, watching Rafayel laugh at your reaction, to which you responded by blushing in embarrassment.

"Does this change things for us now?" He asked in between his laughs, to which you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose"

You felt his arm wrap around your waist, bringing you close to him as you gasped, surprised by his bold gesture. When you looked up at him he had a fulfilling smile on his face.

Next thing you knew waves of water surrounded the two of you, maybe this time you could truly escape this boring place for good.

"Hey, Rafayel. Why did you come back for me?"

"Well, a lonely princess asked me to let her conceive my child. The kinder option would be to show her where I grew up, wouldn't it?"

"...Yeah..."

-

"Did you hear? The princess has escaped the palace once more"

"That's nothing new, is it?"

"Oh, but it is. I heard this time she escaped with a lover!"

"A lover?! That tyrant?!"

"Whoever that gentleman is, he must be crazy to elope with her"

"You said it"

-----

A/N: so like... clearly a lot of themes were running through my mind. maybe this isn't concubine! rafayel as promised BUT THE THEME IS THERE SO EAT YOUR FOOD LIKE THE GOOD CHILDREN YOU ARE (picky eaters are not welcomed, says the picky eater herself)

anyways incubus! rafayel is next, probably in a week or two who knows. after this, I will work on some zayne or xavier oneshots as well :)

OH AND CAN I SAY I WANNA OPEN COMMISSIONS SO BAD???? like maybe not for my art, but definitely for my writing. only when i hit 1k followers will I do that though so stay tuned!