Loser boy luvr

19, any pronouns.

[mwphisto]

LaDs: Nasty Habits I Think They Have (18+)

~ I feel like I be saying the same things in different fonts but this has been lingering in my head for at least a month now so why not.

Sylus cannot stop spitting on your pussy during sex. You could be sopping wet, a mix of his cum and yours literally everywhere. All over your cunt, your thighs, dripping down your ass. It's still not wet enough, every so often he just spits down on where his cock disappears inside of you to make it even wetter.

Xavier eats you front to back, you don't think there is a time where he's gone down on you and not licked your ass too. You're mortified about it, make a point to really deep clean yourself up prior to seeing him. He's eating you to the bone, licking and sucking and biting every inch of you from the top of your thighs all the way down and around to the small of your back.

Caleb loves the smell of your pussy, an obsession that goes far beyond stealing your panties for personal use. He'll purposely eat you out with the blankets over his head to be enveloped by the heady scent that is you and your arousal. You swear you feel his nose burying between your slick folds more than his tongue.

Rafayel is into snowballing after he cums in your mouth. Don't swallow, don't spill either. He's tugging you up to his level and crashing his lips against yours, a sloppy mix of tongue and teeth as you pass whatever of his cum remains in your mouth over to his before he's pushing it back into your own again.

Zayne purposely makes you squirt / ruin his sheets. It gives him a sense of satisfaction seeing the wet spot (puddle). He purposely bought a water proof mattress cover for this reason. When everything is done and you go to shower? He's grinding his cock into the wetness, hard all over again at the aftermath of your strenuous activities before stripping the bedding to wash.

[lynune]

Mouse Epel !!🤍🐁

[sodium-fia]

A good investment

Mirror sex with Phainon who just can't look away!

Content: MDNI, fem! reader, mirror sex, praise kink, pet names, cervix stimulation, overstimulation, creampie, begging, forced eye contact, biting/marking, unprotected sex, nipple play. WC: 1069

Nobody had ever fucked you quite like Phainon did. 

In the comfort of your own, sweet home, in the restaurant bathroom or at last night’s party, you better be sure one round isn’t enough for him. But could you really blame him? You couldn’t exactly judge him for loving you longer than your stamina could hold out. Or for wanting you best when you were splayed in front of the mirror like that. 

And you should’ve known he bought it for another reason in mind. You should’ve seen through the puppy eyes, the begging, the cuddling and then the restaurant date. But you didn’t. And now, well…

Sat in his lap, hand on your hip he lifted you up and down on his dick like you weighed nothing, your weak, pleading form trembling when your eyes caught the scene in the mirror which was every time, with how Phainon kept his other hand glued square on your jaw, forcing you to look.

“Spread your legs s’more,” he coos, voice warm and breathy against the crook of your neck, heavy lidded eyes glued on your reflection. He just loved having you like this. Chest heaving slow and hard, overwhelmed by the vicious smell of liquids and of your perfume– he didn’t know how he was supposed to hold himself back. 

"I can't–" The word breaks as his teeth sink into your skin, marking you, just as he did on the inside. His cock pounds into that sweet, sweet spot, every smack against your slick folds turning your head into mush. "Too big– Phai, it's too–"

“But you’ve taken me so many times, princess.” He pouts, licking the salty tears off your cheeks with gusto. “Is it the mirror making you shy?” He teased, pushing his weeping head deeper into your hole, a soft groan escaping him and sinking into your sensitive skin. 

You tried to gaze away– overwhelmed by your obscene reflection but Phainon tightened his grasp around your jaw, raising his hips once, hard, hitting that spot inside you that made you gasp for air, bullying it over and over until his girth literally made your lungs burn. 

“Please, princess, look–” He muttered, that needy undertone translating into every one of his despicable, ripping thrusts, revering you with kisses, “How beautiful you are taking my dick–” He says it against your throat. The blush staining his skin red has trailed all the way down his collarbone now. "How perfect you look when I'm fucking you."

Then a pause. His hips slow– just enough to make you whine.

"Won't you do it for me?"

The words die in your throat. He’s fucking you– filing you to the brim so despicably, loud, lustful moans replacing them instead, your eyes watching how your back arches into him, the way your hips traitorously stutter down instead of up when he tries to pull out, needy for every inch of him inside you.

And you can’t stop yourself from spreading your legs further.

He’s mesmerized at the sight of you, pounding, every aching shove driven by all his strength, feasting on the hypnotizing view in the mirror, your gushing liquids that covered your shimmering, wet entrance, oozing down the dragging length of his cock so prettily he could cry.

Through lewd, sloppy sounds that bounced off the walls you could only focus on his roaming gaze, on how his eyes fluttered when you clenched around him, drinking you in completely, and utterly lovestruck. 

And then something shifts.

His grip on your jaw falters. His hand falls, trembling, and instead of forcing you to watch, he presses it against the other side of your waist, holding you in place as he keeps pounding, reaching further with your legs spread now while his head drops into the curve of your neck. The warm droplets of sweat slide down his Adam's apple, heaving desperately, slowly, completely different from the rabid pace of his hips, barely making a sound anymore.

And the smooth curve of his smile feels divine against your skin. 

“Phai–!” You manage, and he’s already chuckling, not even trying to hold himself up anymore. His breathing is as shaky as his shaft inside, ramming into you, pulling hopeless, incoherent babbles out of you, his name above all. You feel him everywhere– overtaking and fucking you senseless until all there is left is how he’s molding your insides, how he feels against you. 

And his gaze returns to the mirror. 

“S’not enough,” He says, voice barely above a whisper, looking at the reflection of you– eyes glassy, hands buried in the sheets, hoisting every breath you can barely catch. “So wrecked f’ me.” 

“M’ close– I–” You plead, frantically, all red from how his gaze shamelessly roams over you. “Phai–!”

“So sensitive, ” His large hand slides up your waist, feeling every curve and cupping your tits. A breathless, wrecked laugh spills from him, hot against your ear. "And so fucking pretty.”

His thumb finds your nipple, rolling it with a purposeful, cruel slowness that has your hips jerking. “Do you look at me in the mirror too?” He asks, and your gaze languidly shifts to Phainon, barely able to form a thought anymore. 

And that was genuinely the last straw.

He’s flushed to the base of his shaft, big arms flexing every time he brings you up on his dick with an ease that felt unfair against your struggling. Hot and fucked out, so so unfairly handsome, eyes fixed on how you’re looking him at that moment, breath coming in uneven gasps that stutter every time you clench around him, gaze hazy with pleasure every time he hits that spot that makes you squirm over him. You watch his hips stutter, watch his jaw go slack, watch the way he's barely holding himself together. 

He came at the same time you did, his hands sliding down to your ass, lifting you off his cock, his cock painfully hard and throbbing as the tip exploded with hot threads of sticky white. You moaned, liquids mixing with his, pooling at the base and dripping down onto his thighs, obscenely overstimulated as the pleasure rounded every inch of your body.

“I think it was a good investment.” Phainon smiles against your skin, kissing your cheek. You sigh, feigning annoyance but can’t fight the smile pulling at your lips. 

“As long as it’s not the last time we use it.” 

@sundered-star here it is, hope you like it... This was supposed to come out last week but I got admitted to the hospital ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

dividers by @cafekitsune and @omi-resources art by Haemagong

Likes and reblogs are really really appreciated <3

[sajtkifli]

smooth criminal

[skyrigel]

me: feels unloved *searches x reader tag*

[merakiui]

Fracture, Maim, Kill.

yandere!slasher!floyd leech x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, nsfw, non-con, gn for reader but afab anatomy is described, violence, murder, death, descriptions of blood/gore, multiple major character deaths, general slasher film vibes note - thank you to @peaches-and-pity-points for commissioning me!!

Beneath aluminum bleachers, you and Jade share a cigarette. You’re watching the basketball team run laps in the freezing cold not because it’s interesting but because you hate yourselves.

Or, more accurately, you want to understand what’s so appealing about the team you cheer for.

“They suck ass anyway,” you blurt, smoke curling out from glossy lips. “Haven’t won a single game.”

“How cruel of Coach Vargas to put them through additional punishment.”

A few boys start to slow down, their breath fogging out in big, heaving gasps. They snap back into pace when Vargas’s encouraging shouts—“If you stop now, it’ll be five sets of sit-ups for everyone here! You want to be strong like me, don’t you? Don’t give up now!”—sail across the field. A chorus of exhausted moans follows.

“Like that’s gonna help them. They’re still losing regardless of how many ice baths Coach wants ’em to do.”

“But is this not peak male performance?” Jade gestures at the boys struggling to stand on their frostbitten legs. “Aren’t you just charmed?”

“Peak suffering’s more like it. I’d kill myself if I had to do that every day in the dead of winter.” Snuggling deeper into your woolen scarf, you take another long drag from the cigarette. It warms your insides and tickles the back of your throat.

“NRC’s basketball team would weep like babies if they knew the captain of the cheer team had such little faith in them.”

“And for good reason. They’re trash.”

“Why not strip down to your uniform and give them a cheer? It’ll boost morale.”

You elbow him harshly. “You’re too cocky for someone in the plant club.”

“Actually,” Jade corrects, “it’s horticulture. We focus on the science of cultivating plants. Very different things, you see.” 

You roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin. “Whatever.”

“Ahem.”

Standing there, bundled head to toe in winter wear and looking like a shrouded corpse, is Student Council President Rollo Flamme. His eyes are narrowed in scalding disapproval. Only Rollo could set you aflame in the middle of a harsh, unforgiving winter.

“Ah, Student Council President, to what do we owe the interruption to our terrific twosome?” Jade hums, angelic as ever. 

“A terrible twosome, I should say.” His nose wrinkles and he holds his gloved hand out, as if he expects you to willingly relinquish the smoking cigarette. “Don’t you know it’s forbidden to smoke on school property?”

You and Jade slowly turn to look at one another, a mirror to the other’s faux surprise. Because you’re both assholes and your favorite pastime is greying Rollo’s already shock-white hair, you exaggerate your disbelief.

“Oh dear… I’m afraid we had no idea. I certainly didn’t know of such a rule. Did you?”

You shake your head. “Our bad, Prez. You wanna get in on this? There’s always room for you.”

“We’ve been over this before. I have a zero-tolerance policy for—”

“Yes, yes. No tolerance for us sinful lot who taint the good name of Night Raven College. I’m sure they were all about purity back at Noble Bell, but us ravens do things differently here.”

“Indeed we do. We subscribe to the universal rule of ‘it’s not a crime unless you’re caught’.”

“That is an abhorrent rule. Although I can hardly call it such when its existence is inspired by deluded nonsense.” He checks the watch on his wrist and frowns. “Not only are you smoking on school grounds, you’re skipping class to do so. I won’t say it again. Put that filth out and return inside with me. I’ll be bringing the two of you to Headmaster Crowley.”

Ugh. Why does he care so much? He’d place number one in a school spirit contest, the way he’s hellbent on policing campus and dick-riding the rules.

“Can’t you give us a break just this once?” you ask, sweetening your voice into something honeyed and cloying. Rising to your feet, you drop the cigarette and crush it underfoot before covering the distance to Rollo. “If you let us off the hook, I’ll give you the best blowjob of your life. I bet those were banned back at your fancy-schmancy school. Too bad, so sad. I’ll make sure to spoil you plenty to make up for that.” You throw your arms around him and add in a secretive whisper, “Well, how about it, Prez? We can warm up together in the student council office…”

He rips himself out of your embrace. “You villain, have you no shame? You’ll be coming with me and that’s final.” He seizes your arm and drags you out from the bleachers.

“No one’s cumming with that killjoy attitude,” you grumble, dragging your feet.

“That goes for you as well, Jade Leech,” Rollo adds.

“Dear me. And here I thought you were going to have plenty of fun with (Name) in my stead that you’d forget all about me.”

“Now, Jade.”

“If you insist.” He falls into step beside you, speaking at a volume that disregards Rollo’s presence entirely. “I suppose that wasn’t enough to butter his bread. A pity.”

As you’re led across the frozen grounds, the basketball team glances your way. Floyd breaks out into a cackle at the sight of too-tall Jade following submissively after you and Rollo. Ace salutes out of solidarity (or relief that it’s not him on the receiving end of Rollo’s puritanical madness).

“I should hope you’ll learn from your mistakes, but seeing as we do this every other week… Clearly you have not.”

“Oh em gee, you think about me?”

“And he doesn’t even make you pay rent. How generous,” Jade says, snickering to himself.

Rollo opens his mouth to argue and then shuts it, choosing the pacifist route instead. “I greatly anticipate the coming holiday. A break from the both of you will do wonders for myself and the school.”

“Our reputation precedes us.”

“For all the wrong reasons.”

“That’s kinda the point. Gotta make a name for ourselves before graduation.”

Rollo dumps the both of you off at the Headmaster’s office. Just before he departs, you waggle your fingers at him and say, “Have a relaxing break, Prez. You know you can always text me.”

He doesn’t fall for the obvious hook you’re attempting to sink into his heart. “You would do well to read up on social etiquette,” he says, turning on his heel. “Your lack of decorum is as apparent as the blue in the sky.”

“Actually, it’s currently grey outside,” Jade oh-so-helpfully adds, but Rollo doesn’t fall for that one either.

“We’ll get him next time.”

“I have every amount of confidence in us,” Jade agrees with a stoic nod. “I believe we’re due to place him after this encounter.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Hmm.” You know it’s time to play your favorite morbid game whenever he has that glint in his eyes. “How about this line-up? Fracture, Maim, Kill: Rollo Flamme, Ace Trappola, and Floyd Leech.”

“First of all, I’m not touching your brother. Not even with a pole. He’d kick my ass if I even tried to break one of his bones, so that’s an automatic fuck no from me.”

“Aw. And I was so eager to hear the killer scenario you’d place him in.” 

You roll your eyes and give him a shove. “Swap him out. He’s a no-go.”

“Very well. How about…” Jade rifles in his messenger bag and withdraws the sacred text: The FMK List, a detailed record of every Night Raven College student and where they fall within your ranking of how easy or hard they’d be to kill. Flipping a few pages, he lands on a name at random. “Ah, here we are. Sebek Zigvolt. He’s a tough one.”

“They all are. Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You lean in to share the steaming-hot goss with your delinquent-in-arms. “Rumor has it Rollo’s not so pristine. That’s the whole reason he’s here—transferred all the way to NRC to get away from whatever trouble he caused back at his old school.”

“So he’s a criminal?”

“How else do you get kicked outta school?”

“I suppose it’s not too far out from the realm of possibility. He is rather high-strung.” Jade grins, his face hot with excitement. “If we push him to the brink, do you think he’ll do to us whatever got him expelled in the first place?” 

“Oh, sure. He’ll kill you, you four-eyed freak. I, on the other hand, will be kept alive because I’ve chewed my way into his stomach like a tapeworm. After all, the way to a guy’s heart is through his intestinal tract. Anyway, we could spend forever wondering what his crimes are. If the rumors are true, then he’s gotta be the type who fights it until the end. So I’ll go with maim.”

“Is that right? Interesting choice.” Jade clicks his mushroom pen and scribbles a few lines in his notebook. “And what of Sebek and Ace?”

“Sebek’s strong, too. Ace is…Ace. I guess I’d kill Sebek and fracture Ace. Or…wait, no. Sebek’s never really caused any problems for me. I guess I’ll fracture him. But Ace… He’s such an ass. He can die or whatever.”

“How ruthless.”

“What about you? How’re you ranking ’em?”

“Simple: I would kill Rollo, maim Sebek, and fracture Ace.”

“Not bad. Your reason?”

“Ace and Sebek carry with them a certain sense of pride. It’d be fun to stamp it out.”

“And Rollo doesn’t?”

“Oh, I’m sure he does. But he’s something of a lamb to me. We should put him out of his misery instead.”

“Feels like your thesis needs more work, man. I’m not really seeing the vision.”

“Then it’s a good thing winter break is coming up.”

“Don’t even remind me. My folks are gonna be out of town for their anniversary trip. I’ll be all alone.” You press your ear to the wall and listen. When it becomes clear that Crowley isn’t even in office to address your misbehavior, you motion for Jade to follow you down the hall. You’ll hide out in the library until the end of class. “And it feels like everyone else has big plans. I’ve got nothing. Can’t even throw a house party because who’s gonna be here for that?”

“In that case, you should spend the break with Floyd and me. Our mother has gotten us an in at the new ski resort that’s set to open next month.”

Your gait slows to take in this information. “That place is supposed to be uber-expensive and it’s not even available to the public yet. You’re telling me your mom got you ‘an in’ there? How is that even possible?”

“She and my father have something of a vast network.”

“Doing what?”

“It’s nothing extraordinary, really. Just business.” He holds the door open for you, inviting you into the comfortable silence of the library.

“Something tells me I should stop asking questions…”

“That would be wise.”

“And this is legit?”

“Very.” Jade then exaggerates a long sigh, his lips twisting into a mournful pout. “You must come. It just won’t be the same without my favorite fiend.”

“Like I had any other plans. Best fiends or not, you know I’m coming.”

“I’m certain it’ll be a very memorable trip.”

That was what Jade said, but two weeks later you’re high up in the mountains and standing in the resort’s lobby with a colorful cast of characters. The twins are here, of course, but then Ace, Sebek, and Rollo have apparently wormed their way into the group as well.

You yank Jade down to whisper in his ear. “Hey, quick fiend to fiend… What the fuck?”

“I figured it would be more entertaining this way. Now it’ll feel like a true party.”

“And you invited NRC’s resident narc? Are you serious?”

“You are rather fond of him, are you not? I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“In what world would I ever fuck him?”

“In what world would you ever fuck anyone?” he retorts, grinning behind a fan of his lithe fingers. “I pity you, oh, hopeless virgin.”

You shove him so hard he stumbles. When Jade invited you, you were under the impression you’d be joining him and Floyd. That’s why you made sure to pack all your best outfits for the week. If you’re going to be in pictures with the Leech twins, you need to look your best. No brag without appropriate swag.

Even though you’re bundled up to your throat, you’re overwhelmed with the sensation that you’ve been stripped bare, skinned down to your very bones. And it’s all because of that rotten Rollo Flamme! You weren’t planning to see him until next year—literally! World peace could’ve been achieved in the time you were apart.

Unfortunately, the world has gone to shit. All because Jade loves his laughs.

“I understand Ace being here. Basketball team correlation. But why are you guys here?”

Sebek folds his arms across his chest and huffs. “Let it be known that I have no intention of gallivanting recklessly with you party people. I’m only here to train. The snowy mountains are the best for that. It’s paramount to build proper resistance and strength in all conditions, especially those of particular harshness. This resort merely offers convenient amenities in between.”

“So you’re just here for the grind. Makes sense.” You turn your finger on Rollo next. “And you?” 

Floyd’s arm is around you next. When he leans half his weight on you, you’re given a whiff of his cologne. Bright and tropical, it’s better suited for a sandy beach than the mountains, and you almost wish that’s where you were. “Jade ’n I thought it’d be funny to invite him along. Didn’t think he’d actually show up.”

“Because you sent a car to my house!” Rollo protests, scowling behind his handkerchief. The same handkerchief you and Jade immaturely call the wank cloth. “I could scarcely get a word in before the driver was instructing me to get inside. It felt dubiously cordial. More threat than anything.”

“Way to go, Prez. You went and got yourself kidnapped.” You shrug Floyd off, who giggles at your remark and Rollo’s scandalized gasp, and direct your attention to Ace next. “And I guess you’re just easy as a breeze, yeah?”

“And you’re not? Dude, this is a one-way ticket to swanky greatness!” He throws his arms up and gestures in sweeping fluidity at the finely furnished lobby. The receptionist behind the desk smiles patiently. “A whole brand-freaking-new resort to ourselves… And at no expense whatsoever. Of course I’m gonna take advantage of that! You’re telling me you wouldn’t?” But then he catches Jade and Floyd leering and he quickly adjusts for his audience. “I mean, I’m super grateful to be here. Thanks again for the opportunity. Appreciate it.” Chuckling boyishly, he fixes his hands into a heart and winks.

“That’s nothing compared to my plans,” Sebek says, though his tone is considerably louder than everyone combined. “Your gratitude is hollow, but I plan to make full use of this opportunity. It’s only right, seeing as I’m a guest at this establishment.”

“I would much prefer to go home.”

“For once, I’ve gotta agree with Bible Study. It’s so not the moves if we’re gonna be stuck in Miseryville: population me.”

“Whaaat? Don’t be like that.” Floyd slinks over to drag both of you into his orbit. “Stay and have a good time. You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Well, I think this is a delightful ensemble we’ve got, dysfunction and all. Shall we proceed to our rooms?” Jade spreads the envelopes containing the door keys like they’re a royal flush. “You never know if you’ll like it until you try it.” He slides a marked envelope into your unwilling hand.

“I have,” you grumble, allowing Floyd to pilot you and a begrudging Rollo towards the lift. “And he’s the number one hater of all things fun and exciting.”

Rollo scoffs. “I’ll have you know I’m capable of having fun.”

“Yeah, right. Your idea of that is getting home hours before curfew and watching ice melt or some other boring shit.”

“It’s certainly more respectable than the lawless idiocy you indulge in,” he snaps back, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Back in my hometown, we put on a masked festival every year. That might suit your definition of fun, for the record.”

“Like you’d ever actively participate in something like that.”

“C’mon, play nice,” Floyd interjects, giving the both of you warning squeezes.

“Not like I’d know anything about it. I’ve never been to your hometown. Flowerville, was it?”

Rollo deigns to respond to that, but only to correct you. “It’s the City of Flowers. You ought to visit sometime.”

It’s phrased almost like an invitation. As if he intends to tack “I’ll show you around” at the end of it. You cringe at the idea that he’d ever ask you on a date, much less a tour of his home city.

“Hee-hee. Don’t be so mean to each other. Else you’ll never enjoy your time here.” Floyd pats the both of you on the back and shoves you onwards.  

Miffed to not have gotten the last word in, you decide he’s not worth your breath. At the very least, you can survive one more week with him. Then the rest of your winter break will be free of cold-hearted student council presidents. 

The lot of you pile into the lift, with Sebek scoffing at your and Rollo’s silent treatment. “Childish,” he says. You roll your eyes and dig your phone out of your bag to check the internet connection here. As expected, it’s piss-poor because you’re not yet keyed into the resort’s network.

“Our mother has taken the liberty of booking individual rooms for each of us,” Jade explains once everyone has been spat out of the lift doors. “Sebek, Ace, and Floyd will reside on this floor in rooms 301, 302, and 303. The fourth floor is for Rollo, (Name), and me. Rooms 402, 403, and 404 respectively.” 

“Why separate us between two floors? It’s asinine,” Sebek says.

“There’s plenty of space. Why not make use of it?” 

“Don’tcha wanna explore? Can’t do that if we’re all cramped together.” Floyd pulls his card from his envelope with ease. “And it’s more interesting that way. Gives everyone a li’l freedom.”

“I don’t see how or why any of that is necessary if we’re going to be on our own anyway.” Sebek shakes his head. 

“You won’t find me complaining. Let’s open this room up and see what we’re working with!” Ace glides past you to his room—302—and places the card right along the sensor. It flashes green and a happy click resounds before the door opens.

“Let’s take the next hour to get settled and unpacked. After that, we’ll meet for lunch and then go skiing. Make sure to dress warm,” Jade explains.

They file into their rooms, doors shutting behind them. Jade turns to you and Rollo and claps his hands. Any longer and that halo of his will start to crack, revealing the scheming devil beneath. Best not to give him more ammo than he already has. 

“Now then, shall we be on our way?”

With that, you ride the lift to the next floor and beeline for Room 403. Rollo seems to share the sentiment, and for once it’s the singular thing you have in common.

It could be worse, you remind yourself, stepping into the cozy room. Think positive. Like hell I’m gonna let that loser ruin my winter break!

You drop your suitcase at the foot of the bed, shrug off your winter wear, and take in the tidy surroundings. It smells sterile in here—that tell-tale new something scent that all things have before they’re inevitably tarnished by time. From the basic landscape paintings, each one framed in silver portraits, to the patternless bedspread, there’s something about this clean, minimalistic aesthetic that feels out of place on these vast mountains. Upon pulling the curtains aside, you’re met with a stunning view of the sprawling, snow-topped peaks. It reminds you of a winter wonderland dusted with confectioner’s sugar. 

Yeah, I definitely need to eat something.

Digging through your bag, you retrieve a granola bar and hope that will be enough to keep you sane until lunch. You spend the next hour struggling to connect to the Wi-Fi, staring out your window like a forlorn spouse missing their long-distance darling, and making sheet angels on the duvet. Time whittles down and, finally, someone knocks on your door. 

You’re not expecting anyone, so it genuinely surprises you to find Rollo standing there.

“What do you want?”

He wrinkles his nose at your monotone. “I…would like to make amends.”

“Ooh, yuck. Sounds like you really had to force that out. Why?”

“Seeing as we’re not on school grounds and this is winter break—an affair entirely separate from academic business—I would like to extend my hand in a truce of sorts.”

“Again, why? If you’re not here to swap spit, then I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Is it not plain as day? I wish to find some actual peace during this week. Whatever it takes to ensure we can spend one week without hurling insults at each other. Which, for the record, is something you do far more than I.”

“Oh, you just think you’re sooo righteous with your little olive branch of friendship, don’t you?” Rolling your eyes, you bark out a harsh laugh. “I’ve got an even better proposal. We survive this week, we don’t speak again after this, and when we see each other at school we walk the other way. How about it? I’ll stay out of your receding hair if you stay out of my dazzling hair. Which, for the record, is something you could choose to focus on if you wanna look more approachable, you miserable ice demon.”

“Ha!” Rollo smiles coldly. “You’re impossible.”

“Don’t you realize life’s so much smoother when you’re not being a spoilsport all the time?” Allowing those words to hang in the air, you disappear inside the room to gather the essentials needed for skiing.

“Do you really think it brings me any shred of satisfaction to intrude upon your life?”

“I don’t know—maybe!” You glimpse yourself in the mirror and decide a last minute touch-up on your makeup will help. “Sometimes I think you like bothering me and Jade.” You pucker your lips and apply a new coat of glitter gloss. 

“There’s a very simple solution to all of this that you appear to be overlooking.” And then his voice goes sly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you do this solely to earn a scolding from me. Surely not, yes?”

“Dream on!” You twist the cap onto your lip gloss tube and pretend it’s his neck. “It’s, like, hilarious you think you take up that much space in my head.”

“How you cherish me so,” he replies flatly, frowning. “Well, this was a waste of time. Conversations with you continue to prove pointlessly unproductive”

You pat and blend blush into your cheeks and then grab the rest of your winter stuff. “Listen, dictionary. While we’re here, let’s promise to be neutral. And then we can go back to hating each other’s guts. That sound good?”

“I suppose I can agree to that.” He extends his hand. “Shall we shake on it?”

You grip his hand and give it a firm, determined shake. “Starting right now, we’re friends.”

“Friends with you? What layer of Hell have I found myself in?” He squeezes your hand like he intends to crush it. 

“Violence.” Your hand slides out of his with ease, and you pat him on the back. He grimaces. “Believe me, the feeling is very much mutual.”

Minutes later, you meet up with Jade and together the three of you make your way to the dining hall. He pulls you aside to ask for context behind your and Rollo’s sudden pairing. 

“We’ve made a deal. I don’t mess with him and he doesn’t mess with me.”

“And how did you get him to agree to that?”

“With the best—and only—blowjob he’s ever gotten.”

“Mhm. Uh-huh.” Jade sounds very convinced. (Not.)

You elbow him. “You do it then, cherry-popped wannabe.”

“I am a proud virgin by choice.” He places his hand over his chest and beams.

Ace, Sebek, and Floyd are waiting for you at the table. It’s Floyd who waves you over, grinning easily. 

“Over here, Shrimpy! Saved ya a seat.”

You forgot about that nickname. You don’t interact with Floyd nearly as often as you do with Jade, so you’ve never been able to understand why he calls you that. But at his excited beckoning, you abandon Jade’s side and join him, lowering into the seat he’s pulled out for you. 

“Hey, thanks.”

“No prob.” He passes a menu to you. “Order whatever ya want. It’s on us.”

On that generous note, the rest of the day kicks off in cheerful fashion. Everyone enjoys a feast of delicious foods, stuffing themselves as if preparing for hibernation. To avoid the encroaching food coma, you gear up for skiing. Once everyone’s ready, Jade explains the basics and takes the group through a trial run. The bunny hills allow you to find your footing and better understand the gist of skiing, but at some point they become elementary and Floyd declares he wants a challenge. You and Ace are too busy taking photos and throwing snowballs at each other, Sebek and Rollo are dedicated to actually practicing, and Jade is already on his way to the ski lift, seeking a bigger slope. 

Floyd sneaks up on you and Ace, breaking your snowy stalemate. “Heya. How’s about the three of us hit the slopes with Jade?”

“I’m down, but I dunno if (Name)’ll do that. Might be too much of a chicken to—”

“We’ll see who’s chicken when your skis cross.” You’re already gliding over to the lift.

“Wha—hey! Wait for me!” Ace hurries along after you, his movements clumsy.

Despite the sun still hanging high in the sky, the frosty winds bite at your skin once you’re seated on the lift. Floyd joins you and the both of you are brought up into the air. The conveyor system is so smooth you hardly hear the gears turning. It isn’t long until Sebek and Rollo shrink to pinpricks. 

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Floyd asks, following your line of sight past the resort to the mountains beyond. It’s a stunning backdrop that leaves you speechless and, for the moment, immune to the icy breeze.

“Definitely beats the boredom I would’ve been suffering from if I’d stayed home. Like, seriously, you and Jade are way too lucky.”

“Meh. Mountain stuff isn’t really my thing, but it was Jade’s turn to choose for winter break. Guess I shoulda expected this.”

You turn to look at him. “Then what is your thing?”

“My thing? Whatever’s interesting, I guess.”

“That’s cool. Freezing my ass off isn’t, but if it’s with Jade I don’t mind it. Just means he’s gonna be freezing his ass off, too.”

Floyd blinks at you and then throws his head back to laugh. His breath materializes in the air as a glacial ghost. It really wasn’t that humorous, but then you’ve never understood Floyd and his unique behaviors. His sense of humor is probably just as twisted as Jade’s. You wonder if Jade’s ever introduced him to the FMK list. Probably not. Floyd’s too busy for that kind of nerd stuff, you think. He’s a popular jock who likes parties and sex, the exact opposite of your sly, secretive friend. He’d just think the two of you were weird if he knew, and you have a reputation to uphold as the cheer team’s resident virgin whore.

“’m glad you came. Wouldn’t be a vacation without Shrimpy.”

“Uh, thanks?” Although it feels less like a compliment and more like a threat. Like he’d hate you if you couldn’t provide him with enough entertainment.

The lift drops you and Floyd off at the very top. Ace and Jade join you seconds later. You race until sunset. Even though Floyd claimed the mountains weren’t a personal favorite of his, he learns quickly and wins a few races himself, placing second just behind his twin.

You and Ace are left warring between third and fourth, a competition that will never truly see a victor. Not when the temperature drops and the sun is steadily dipping below the horizon. You can’t feel your face by the time you make it back down to reunite with Rollo and Sebek, the latter of whom went off on his own course while the former pushed himself around on his skis. As fun as today was—you got to see Ace trip and eat snow, all captured on video—you’re not looking forward to five more days of freezing weather.

Thankfully, the resort provides warm, welcoming cover from the winds as they pick up speed. You’re relieved to shuck the heavy layers for soft, cozy clothes. A buffet has been prepared in advance and is waiting for everyone, beckoning you closer with its hearty fragrance. Once your boots are laced up, you follow the path you took for lunch to the dining hall. 

“Hm.” Sebek breaks your concentration just as you’re piling your plate with food. He’s gazing out the window at the darkening sky. “It appears as though it may storm soon…”

“Just looks like we’re getting into the evening.”

“Unlike you, person of little knowledge,” Sebek states, and you roll your eyes, “I have spent ample time training myself in all manner of weather conditions.” His smug expression suggests he has a significant amount of pride for these skills. “Recognizing when a snowstorm is coming is nothing for someone like myself.”

“Congrats, weatherman. You want a medal for that?”

He makes a noise of disgruntlement. “Why, you—!”

“Now, now,” Jade says, swanning into the room with a grin that tells you he’s up to no good. As usual. “Snowstorm or not, let’s enjoy a well-deserved meal together.”

Sebek harrumphs and turns away to grab a plate for himself. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Man, what a workout! Finally some food—I’m starving,” Ace laments as he drags himself into the room. Rollo is close behind.

Floyd laughs. “Who cares if it’s gonna storm? Not like we’re gonna be out there anyway.” He plucks a curly fry from your plate and pops it in his mouth. You shoot him a dirty look and hold your plate away from him.

“It would be a wrench in some of our outdoor activities, should that happen,” Jade muses. “Well! In that case, we should all play some games to strengthen our bond as a group. It’ll drive the storm away.”

“Beat it back with the power of friendship,” you add in sardonic agreement, to which Jade nods.

“Whatcha have in mind?” Ace asks, taking a seat beside you. 

“Perhaps some truth or dare to start the night? When that fails to entertain, we can swap scary stories.”

“You small fry better have some good dares or it’ll be squeezings for all of ya.” Floyd plops into the seat across from you, with Sebek at his right and Jade at his left.

Rollo takes the empty seat next to you and, as per your agreement, you offer cordial nods of acknowledgement to the other. The exact portrait of perfect neutrality.

Truth or dare kicks off just as you expected. It’s all stupid, harmless fun. Like daring Sebek to predict more of this supposed incoming storm by building a snowman outside or making Ace confess one of his most embarrassing truths. The game turns sour when Jade asks Rollo, “Truth or dare?” in that too-sweet-to-be-evil lilt. Rollo makes his selection and is hit with: “I dare you to kiss (Name).”

“What?” the both of you blurt, turning to stare at him in disbelief.

“Jade, come on…” Suddenly, everyone’s watching you like you’re an actor they expect to put on a riveting performance. “You can come up with something better than that, right?”

“Would you prefer to kiss him instead?”

“That’s not funny—”

“I refuse to kiss (Name) anywhere without their explicit permission. More than that, I have no interest in doing so, so I must decline,” Rollo states, shaking his head. He doesn’t seem to be as outwardly affected by Jade’s verbal attacks as you are, but maybe that’s because Jade isn’t his best friend. “You’ll have me do something else or I’ll quit playing altogether.”

It feels like he’s being even more of an asshole to you than he normally is. And this time there’s nothing lighthearted about it. It’s as if you’ve been pushed onto a plate, subjected to the whims of fork and knife. He’s going to cut into you at this rate and, from the look of it, he’s eagerly anticipating the moment you succumb.

“If you’re not gonna do it, I’ll do it,” Floyd announces, standing up to lean over the table. You don’t have any time to react before he’s grabbing your chin and smashing his mouth right on yours. The kiss lasts a few more seconds, just enough for him to run his tongue along your bottom lip, before you return to Earth. You shove his chest so hard he staggers back. Grinning smugly with lightless eyes, he licks his lips. Aghast, you touch your own while Floyd laughs and laughs and laughs. “You should see your face, Shrimpy! You look just like a beached fish!”

You don’t dare pull out your pocket mirror to confirm because it feels like you’re on the verge of tears. Glancing at Jade, hoping he’ll rescue you from this horrible situation, you find he’s gazing right back. Waiting for your next move so that he can twist you into another punchline.

“What the hell! It wasn’t your turn.”

“Got tired of waitin’. Bein’ impatient paid off, though. I got to see Shrimpy squirm.” His eyes crinkle with sick mirth. Like there’s joy to be found in crushing bugs and playing with the mush. 

An uncomfortable silence descends, swift as a guillotine and just as painful. Everyone’s looking between you and Floyd, but your eyes are pinned on Jade. 

Not fucking funny, you want to say—really chew into him—but the words won’t come.

“You planned to tell stories, did you not?” Rollo speaks up, thereby breaking the thickening tension and saving you in turn. You’ve never been more thankful for his existence, which is a strange feeling. You, grateful for Rollo Flamme? What is the world coming to?

“Ah, that’s right. I did have a particularly good one in mind. It’s very fitting for the weather we’re currently experiencing.” 

“Yeah, I was getting tired of truth or dare anyways,” Ace bemoans, rubbing his cheeks. Another dare of his involved chubby-bunnying as many finger foods as he could. Though his battle was valiant, it left him with a soreness he’ll be feeling throughout the night. “Let’s get on with the stories.”

“If it’s stories we’re to be exchanging, then there’s no one better than that of Malleus and all his success!”

“Not interested, Croc.”

“How dare you not take interest in the great Malleus! Have you no sense?!”

“You can regale us with that after mine,” Jade says. Though his words are pacifying in nature, you suspect he just wants to poke fun at Sebek’s blatant idolization of your upperclassman. “Mine is about a monster—one who dwells on these very mountains. Or so it’s been said.”

“Ooh, this’ll be good.” 

“Well, anything’s better than that troublesome game…” Rollo murmurs into his handkerchief.

“A monster? Yeah, right. Those don’t exist.”

“I fail to see how entertaining a monster story is when there are countless tales to be told of Malleus!”

A big gust of wind batters the windows and effectively silences their chatter. You turn in your seat to watch the glass panes rattling in their frames. The sound reminds you of something—or someone—trapped and scrabbling to get out, banging on the windows until their knuckles break and bleed. You’re beginning to wonder if what Sebek said is true—that there really is a snowstorm coming. The tiny snow flecks waltzing in the wind give off the appearance of a peaceful winter scene. Surely it won’t morph into a whiteout?

“There’s a certain legend told here. Those who are betrayed in flesh and blood are destined to return frostbitten and vengeful. Monsters who roam the barren mountains in search of the one who crossed them…” As Jade speaks, he gestures like a magician, stringing the story together from the spookiest of threads. Everyone sits, rapt with attention. “This specific monster is ravenous, you see. Never satisfied. Eternally empty. It would lure prey in with warmth and light during long days of unabating cold and darkness. And just when they were comfortable… Snap!” He slams his foot down on the floor, startling a spellbound Sebek and Ace. Even Rollo’s eyes widen. “They were swept away, never to be seen again. Who might this monster be, you’re asking?”

No one’s asking that.

“Why, it’s simple. Humans.”

Immediately, the unsettling atmosphere dissipates. Jade hums, quite pleased with himself despite the lukewarm reactions.

“Dude, what a letdown. If I wanted to hear a story about morals or whatever, I’d just pick up a fable.” Ace pushes out from the table and stands. “Welp. I’m out.”

“Whaaat? Crabby too scared to stick around? Did Jade’s story scare ya that bad?”

“Uh, hardly. If anything, that was a major snoozefest.”

“I must agree. There’s no such thing as reanimated corpses or monsters.” Rollo waves his hand about. “It’s all frivolous nonsense.”

“No matter what way you tell it, zombie stories are just old.”

Sebek nods in assent. “Are the dead not granted the right to rest peacefully?”

“Some never rest at all.” Jade smiles. “So I would take care on your way back. The howling winds might just swallow you whole before you can scream…”

With that ominous message, the group retreats for bed. You’ve a big day ahead of you tomorrow based on the itinerary Jade’s written up. You take a hot shower to wash the exhaustion off you, taking extra care to brush your teeth twice to scrub the taste of Floyd away, and then flop into bed. The snow picks up outside, piling high and pressing in against the windows. It doesn’t seem so beautiful anymore and with the pitch-black void peering in you feel prickly. So you get up, pull the curtains shut, and retreat under the covers.

Your dreams are filled with frozen bodies and an angry, starving mountain that wants you and your friends gone. A dozen hands push at the windows, leaving frosty prints in their wake. You think you hear a shout, but it’s snatched away in the wind. There are no monsters here. Only humans.

But isn’t that just as dangerous, if not more so?

BAM BAM BAM

Startled awake, you bolt up in bed. A cold sweat has broken out over your clammy skin. Squinting through the dark, attempting to soothe yourself from the nightmare, you wonder if you imagined that horrible banging. A minute passes. You become intimately acquainted with your heartbeat and the static buzzing in your ears—proof that your body is alive and functioning. 

Feeling around, you grasp the remote and click the TV on for some light. A nature documentary flashes on. You’ve no idea of the time, and when you pat the bedside table in search of your phone you turn up empty.

Did I drop it somewhere?

The TV skips a few beats, glitching past a baby fawn being unknowingly stalked by a fox and taking you right to the commercial break. It happens again and then again until, eventually, you give up and shut the damn thing off. 

Useless, you think, staring blankly into the shadows. Your vision gradually adjusts. Down the hall, cracked open only slightly, is the door. A thin sliver of light spills in, revealing the outline of another person.

At first you think your eyes are deceiving you, but then the silhouette shifts in a way that’s too uncanny to be anything but another living creature. You remain stock-still in bed, mulling over everything and nothing all at once. A creeping sensation rolls over your body. Someone’s inside your room and they shouldn’t be here, and you’ve no idea how they managed to get in but they are and now—

There’s more movement. A shuffling of feet. The door shuts and locks slowly, deliberately, and then you’re trapped inside with a stranger.

What to do? There’s only one way out. If you ran past them, they could grab you, pin you down, strangle you. How did they even get access to your room? There shouldn’t be another keycard to your room, right? But it’s too late to think any further—the shadow is descending, and a hand claps over your mouth before you can scream. 

“Shh!” he hisses, and you can feel him shaking. “Be quiet. Just… Just please.”

You’d recognize that cadence anywhere despite its fearful wobble.

“If you promise not to yell, I’ll move my hand.”

Confused but obeying his cryptic warning, you nod. As promised, he lifts his hand. “What the fuck, Ace?” you whisper, reaching to click on the light. He catches your arm in the dark. “Seriously, what’s going on? Why are you—how did you—my room?”

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear! Just… Okay, listen.” He takes a deep breath. “Dude, something’s not right here.”

“Huh?” And then: “That’s it? Are you really letting Jade’s lame-ass story get to you?”

“Not that. I… I think we gotta get outta here.”

“What? No way! It’s blizzarding like crazy out there. Where are we gonna go?”

“I don’t know!” he stresses. “It can’t be here. The staff—they’re… All of them…”

“Out with it.” You’re sitting up now, the annoyance sapped from your voice and replaced with mounting dread.

“They’re not here anymore. Like, they’re gone. As in, they left. Dunno when, but no one’s here. It’s just us.”

“So they went home? What’s so bad about that?”

“I-It’s Sebek,” he says, switching subjects. You can hear how sick he sounds, just barely holding in his distress. “His door was open and he—I woke up because I heard something coming from his room. These walls are way too thin. Someone was opening my door and I hid, and then they left and eventually—” He stops himself to breathe, to finally reach the point in his roundabout retelling. “Sebek’s dead.”

At first, you think he’s messing with you. Sebek, the strongest of you all, is dead? How is that even possible at this luxury resort, where the most dangerous thing is the elements outside?

“If this is some gross joke, then I—”

“It’s not. (Name), I’m not joking. He… When I went inside his room to check on him, he—” Ace swallows hard. “Someone killed him. And I know they did because his neck was—it was… They—”

Knock, knock, knock.

You and Ace fall silent. He grabs your shoulder and drags you out of bed and onto the floor as quietly and slowly as he can manage.

“You don’t think someone broke into the resort, do you?”

“I don’t know. I went to the lobby and snooped around until I found the spare card to unlock your room. Had to warn someone, at the very least, y’know?”

“Then…who’s at the door? If Sebek’s dead…” Your eyes go wide. “What about Floyd? Is he okay? Jade and Rollo are here on my floor, but you guys—”

“Dunno.”

Too many people are unaccounted for. You don’t like this. You don’t like this one bit. 

Dulling your frazzled nerves, you stand up despite Ace’s silent protests and tiptoe to the door. A quick peek through the peephole confirms it’s Jade and, though he’s been nothing but a bully today, you don’t want him to get axed. So you unlock the door.

“There’s someone in the resort.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding… How? What happened? Ace told me that Sebek—”

“There’s simply no time. We must group up and—”

“What about Floyd? Rollo? We’ve gotta call the authorities!”

“I’m afraid the line to the town below has been cut. And the connection’s been rather…unstable since the storm started.” Aiming for lightheartedness, he tries a stressed smile. “What a trip, hm?”

“And it’s only been one day… Fuck. This is bad. We’ve gotta call someone.”

Ace rises to his full height and you can see the grave look on his face. It makes his skin sink on his bones, as if he’s aged overnight. “Well, I’m not staying put while some lunatic goes around chopping people to bits! I’m outta here.”

“We’ve gotta stick together!”

But Ace brushes past you and Jade, locked onto his solo mission.

“I’ll retrieve him,” Jade says. “There’s nowhere we can go beyond this resort, but at the very least we can find somewhere to hide until morning. And, if he’s going to be running off on his own, we might as well take a trip to the kitchen for some weapons.” He beams. “We won’t be caught unawares.”

“Good idea. Okay, yeah, do that. I’ll check on Rollo.”

Thankfully, Rollo is perfectly fine. Although, like you, he also heard a loud banging, claiming it disturbed him from his writing. Whatever that means. But after a perfunctory check, all is well and you can breathe easy. You fill Rollo in on the situation and decide it’s best to remain paired up for the time being until things are safe. Your petty squabbling is meaningless in the face of real danger.

Rollo ducks into his room briefly and returns with a map of the resort. “It’s too treacherous to risk going outside, but if we follow this layout we should find ourselves in the security room. Surely that has the means to contact someone even in a snowstorm as ruthless as this.”

The both of you set off, taking care around every turn. Rollo stops you just before you can set foot on the stairs leading down into the lobby. At the very bottom, twisted and bent into an unnatural shape, is the crumpled body of Ace. You shake him off and hurry down the steps to reach him.

“Ace? Oh, shit! Ace!” 

But he’s not moving, and it’s then when you notice thick, dark blood pooling out from his head. Horrified, you stumble back, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 

“He must’ve tripped in his rush. Broke his leg in the tumble and fractured his neck.” Rollo muses, peering at him with a grim frown. “This shouldn’t have happened if Jade was accompanying him… Unless he was pushed.”

Fracture… He was fractured. And Sebek was…

“Seriously, don’t say that. There’s no way some psycho killer is hunting us all down. No way in hell!” You turn away and cross over to the desk, bracing yourself against it. “We’re so dead. Please, no, I don’t wanna die here.”

“We should keep moving. Whatever happened, it ended in death. We can’t let that repeat.” Rollo takes you by the arm and gently coaxes you away from the nightmare laying shattered before you. Your brittle legs shuffle along aimlessly.

Is there really a murderer in the resort? Have they been here the entire time, waiting in an empty room, plotting on everyone’s arrival? Was what Jade said about monsters true? Is there a creature out there seeking violence to feed its thirst for revenge?

Just as you round the corner, Jade comes staggering out of the security room, his face awash in primal terror and sweat. He clutches his side, his shirt slick and stained crimson. You feel your heart plummet all the way down to your stomach.

“J-Jade—”

You move to break free from Rollo, but he holds firm. Twisting to look at him, your eyes wide and questioning, you search Rollo’s unfaltering expression. He seems to study Jade for a long minute before coming to a conclusion you’ve yet to ascertain yourself.

“What happened?” he asks instead, watching but not moving any closer as Jade sinks to the ground.

His unease is palpable because it has you hesitating when Jade groans out a feeble, “Something gave Ace a shove and then went after me. There wasn’t any time.” Shaking Rollo off, ignoring the blaring alarm bells, you drop down to fuss over him. He smiles weakly, grateful.

“Did you see them?” Rollo’s being strangely clinical about this, but you suppose it’s to be expected in this moment of heightened caution. “Any notable features? Did you manage to drive them away?”

While you help to put pressure on his wound, you can hear the question he’s not asking: How come you’re still alive and the others aren’t?

Jade grunts. “It’s…no use.”

“Don’t say that. Come on—get up.” When he doesn’t say anything and his eyes start to flutter shut, glazed over in death, you pat his cheek. “Jade? Jade, stop! Come on, come on… Wake up!” But he’s already gone still.

“I don’t understand,” you hear Rollo say just as you hurry to scrub the tears from your eyes. “How could any of this happen in such a short time? No one knew unless someone… Were you posting about this place?”

“No! I’m not the one responsible for this!”

“I wasn’t implying that.”

You almost argue back, but then you take a pause. “Look, we’re the only two people here right now. We don’t know where Floyd is. And everyone else is—w-we have to stick together. Please.”

“We have no choice.” He holds his hand out and helps you up. “I…don’t find you all that repellent, you know. I’m only hard on you because I—”

“Rollo, wait—behind you!”

You look past him just in time to view the hooded figure emerging from the hall. So, too, does Rollo, but he doesn’t manage to process the looming threat in time. He pushes you out of the way, and you fall back on your rear with a thump. The axe swings in a malicious arc, lodging itself right in his abdomen. You freeze. The tears that had been falling for Jade come pouring out for Rollo in terrified streams, and you snap back to yourself just as his body hits the floor with a hard smack. The stranger stands over his writhing body and twists the axe free from his guts, silent like stale air in a cemetery.

Blood oozes out of the severe wound like damaged floodgates. He claws at the ground to pull himself up and away, and you catch sight of the traumatized glaze in his green eyes just as he’s swallowed up in the stranger’s shadow. Rollo isn’t even granted time to cry or curse out his attacker, for the axe comes down upon his back next, cutting seamlessly through skin and sinew until it grinds against the bony ridges of his spine. You yell so loud it shreds your vocal chords, incoherent words high and garbled with raw, unfiltered fear. 

With a sickening crack and a disturbing squelch, the axe digs into the pulp of Rollo Flamme. And you realize, in a flash of coherency, what this means. The list. They’ve all died in ways according to the list. But the only two who know about that would be you and Jade, and Jade’s dead!

The stranger hefts the axe up and looks right at you through the small, shadowed slit in his ski mask. Blood and muscle stick to the blade like prosciutto. His dark clothes are soaked through with gore; the fabric clings to his musculature. Instinct kicks in when he takes a measured step towards you and, just as he lunges, you stumble into a sprint, screaming for help all the while. 

You tear down the hall in a blind rush, bursting out into the lobby. He swings at you, missing by a hair. The axe embeds itself in the wall beside you, chipping the porcelain tiles. You push through the doors and emerge outside, the winds whipping about in chaotic howls. Snow blinds you with searing white. Shielding your face with your hand, you stagger on, your feet sinking up to your calves in the snow. It bites at your exposed skin, cold rushing through your pajamas like you’re a hollow doll. You can’t hear anything over the wind, but you swear you catch the muffled sound of manic laughter.

One foot in front of the other, you tell yourself in loops, shuffling along. Your skeleton vibrates beneath your skin. Your foot catches on something under a snow drift, causing you to flop face-first into the white. You don’t realize you’ve twisted your ankle, pain numbed by the ice, until someone’s hand is on your shoulder, freeing you from a burial in the snow.

You fight them with your eyes closed because the wind is too sharp, and everything is so dreadfully frozen. Glacial fingers curl into your wrist. In your mind, you’re throwing punches faster than the speed of light. And either you’re too cold to feel them land or they’re not landing at all.

You’re dragged through the snow, half-alive, your heart slowly, sluggishly pumping.

You think you see Floyd when you crack an eye open, but that can’t be right.

He wouldn’t do this.

You wake wrapped in a fluffy robe, the cold all but bled from your corpse.

Or…not a corpse. You’re still alive.

The memories rush in all at once, and before you can sit up someone’s hand is around your throat. Near-death still clinging, you blink up at the face of Floyd. And, just beyond, sitting at your bedside and wrapping your injured ankle, is Jade. Alive and uninjured.

“Oh, good. You’re up!” He grins and pinches your cheek. “Thought ya died on me. Would’ve been real fuckin’ boring if ya did.”

“W-What…?”

“Come now, Floyd. The poor thing’s just regained consciousness. Don’t you think you ought to be just a touch gentler?”

“Ah, my bad.” He releases your cheek.

“What happened? There was a killer and—”

“Y’know, you sure are morbid, Shrimpy.” Floyd sits up and is now flipping through a notebook. The very notebook containing every detail about the FMK list and the ways in which your classmates would be hypothetically murdered. “Never woulda guessed since you’re so cute. Guess that just makes you even cuter, huh.” He tosses it over his shoulder, suddenly bored. “Kinda lame you didn’t wanna rank me. What? Didja think I’d be mad? Over a little thing like that? C’mon.”

“What?” You look to Jade for assistance.

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he says in a remorseless tone. “I showed Floyd our list and he found it so entertaining he wanted to put it into practice.”

“Mhm. Wasn’t all that fun, though. They died so quickly.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust. Before you know it, he’s back on you. “In the end, it got me Shrimpy so I’m not gonna complain.”

“What do you mean by…that?”

“I’m sayin’ I killed ’em all thanks to your little list. Well, Jade got to Crabby before I could. And I woulda killed you myself, but it’d make Jade cry if he lost his friend.”

“Oh, I’d be inconsolable.” He sniffles, wiping away a crocodile tear.

“And I like you too much to let you go to waste right now. ’Sides, Jade says you’re a virgin down there.” He cups you through the robe before you can shut your legs.

“N-No! Wait, stop… Stop! Don’t touch me!” Even though there isn’t a trace of blood or murder on him, his hands still held the axe. He still killed your classmates. “I don’t understand. Jade, why would you—fuck!” You choke on a rising sob when Jade squeezes your ankle in a rough stranglehold. “H-Hurts!”

“I would imagine.”

Your glassy eyes pan over to Floyd next. “W-Why…?”

“Why do I like ya? I just do. And when someone doesn’t like ya back, doesn’t it make ya want ’em even more? Pretty funny, too. Cheer captain’s never gotten laid, but ya sure like to pretend ya have. Don’tcha want the experience? I can give it to ya. I’ll be your only experience. Ain’t I nice?”

You shake your head at him.

“Aw, don’t be scared.” His voice drops an octave. “It’s gonna hurt if you struggle.” 

You look between the both of them. Jade’s finished his work on your ankle wrapping and is now turning his attention to the abandoned FMK notebook. The betrayal rips into your heart. Jade, your best friend since first year… And Floyd, the athlete you cheered for… You want to wake up from this nightmare. Your friend and his brother aren’t killers, and you’re not stuck here in this lonely resort on the mountains. The stress swells and spills over. Floyd leans in to lick you, savoring both the salty taste and the way it makes you squirm.

“Always thought bendin’ ya over and goin’ at it after practice. You’d probably call me a pervert, wouldn’t ya?”

Your chest heaves with a sob, and you yelp when he rips your robe open, revealing your naked body to his salivating eyes.

“But I can’t help it. You make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that? I hung your picture up in my room and everythin’. Stole your uniform once. You always smell so damn nice, even when you’ve been jumpin’ around in those tiny skirts.”

“You’re a fucking freak!” you crow out, tugging against his hands when they close around your wrists. “Let go of me.”

“Hee-hee. You gonna hit me next? Kick me? Go on—call me a mean name again.” You grit your teeth, feeling pathetic and terrified all at once. There’s only so much you can do. Jade won’t save you, and Floyd’s moods come and go in an erratic forecast of natural disasters. Without decorum, he traces two fingers along your labia before sinking them inside. It feels weird and wrong. You thrash beneath him, kicking your leg out when those fingers curl up and brush a squishy part no one’s ever touched before. His eyes light up with sadistic glee, and within seconds he’s stretching you and bullying your clit with his other hand. The pleasure electrifies your already heated nerves, leaving you struggling to tamp down the blubbery moan. 

“N-No, not there. Please—ugh!” With your hand now freed, you use it to weakly bat at his chest. He laughs and grabs hold of it.

“Hey, if you keep bein’ bad, I’m not gonna prepare ya anymore. I’ll just stick it in. That what you want?”

“I-I don’t want any of this! Floyd, p-please. You can’t… S-Stop it. I… I’m scared.”

“Really? Cuz to me it looks like your pussy’s droolin’ for it.”

He yanks his fingers out and, much to your horror, they’re dripping in your slick. There’s nothing hot about any of this! Maybe if Floyd wasn’t such an asshole to begin with—long before winter break even began—you might’ve included him in some of your late-night fantasies. Now there’s nothing to be felt for him but revulsion. He’s gross and sick and cruel, and he killed your classmates all because it was fun—because he wanted to follow the fiction scribbled in Jade’s notebook.

“There’s no rush anyways,” he adds, shoving them back inside so you jump. “We’ve got the whole week to ourselves. I’m gonna play with every part of you, so be good and I won’t kill ya.”

Death would be kinder than this. Because at least in death you don’t have to look him in the face and bear witness to the twisted depths of his perversion.

[takaholic]

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐞𝐫 — ⋆

༓ 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

↬ f!reader, panty stealing, panty sniffing, panty licking, masturbation, shame kink, ruined orgasm, (1.6k wc)

18+ MDNI

He still can't get used to this. Mr. Yang had told him to basically sit pretty and enjoy the journey, but Sunday still feels antsy just sitting around leisurely. Pom-Pom already takes care of most of the tidying between assigned chore hours, and Dan Heng insists he doesn't need any assistance with the archives.

There's only so much reading, journaling, and listening to music that Sunday can tolerate before it shifts from relaxation to anxiety that he should be doing something more productive. Recently, he's gotten into feng shui and has already reorganized his room and the common space in his passenger car. March and Stelle have declined his consultation to increase the energy flow of their rooms (though there certainly is a strong and off-puttingly chaotic energy from both their rooms that suggests flow isn't necessary), and he feels like it’d be insulting to Miss Himeko’s elegance for him to suggest he could improve her quarters. 

That just leaves you, his room neighbor. You have a habit of leaving your door open—something you've explained as letting people know where you are and if you're available to be bothered. Your room isn't necessarily messy, but there's quite a bit of clutter when it comes to trinkets, an excessive amount of scented candles, and textbooks stacked against your wall like the backdrop of the Penaconian Dreamscape. Part of him is curious to see all the titles and read all the candle labels, but he's never spent time in your room other than brief conversations. 

Your door is open when he goes to check. You're not there, likely in the bath or having a drink in the party car, so he decides to take a respectful look around. You've mentioned before that anyone is welcome to your textbooks, so it doesn't feel like he's snooping or invading. 

Already, he's making notes on how to move your bed and how you could add a tall shelf to block off your computer desk from the rest of the room. Your shoes are lined up neatly, but certainly could be given a more distinct home. You have a basket that could maybe-

Oh.

Sunday regrets looking at its contents. You're using it as a laundry hamper, and right on top is a pair of your panties turned inside out. He immediately backs away and makes an exit from your room. 

Once in the familiarity of his own room, he sighs and places a hand over his rapidly beating heart. He just committed an act of violation. He will absolutely need to confess to you later and apologize. It's the right thing to do, even if it was an honest mistake (a very embarrassing one at that). 

He runs through the confrontation in his head. Will you just laugh it off? Most likely. But what if you get angry? That he can handle, even though he knows you'll be annoyed at worst. Truly, the worst outcome would be for you to tease him. You might look at him with smug disdain and call him disgusting—a pervert. 

Shame boils in his stomach, spreading its gripping heat throughout his body. His neck and face go hot, making him dizzy. Even a flap of his wings won't cool him off. The heat drops further down from its point of origin, tightening in his loins. How disgusting of his body to react this way, but the shame feeds itself in a loop. 

Foolish. There's no reason for him to be feeling like this. Perhaps he got it all wrong. Perhaps there's nothing to apologize for. 

Sunday pokes his head out of his room and checks down the hall to see if you've returned during his crisis. Your door is still open, so he slips out and peeks inside. Still empty. With heart pounding, he rushes over to your laundry hamper and double-checks to make sure what he saw was actually your underwear. 

Another bout of shame washes over him when they are indeed panties, only this time, he doesn't look away. He leans in closer to inspect. There's a small white stain in the gusset, indicating they've definitely been worn. His mouth fills with saliva. His core tightens all the way down to his groin. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, nearly falling forward from how closely he's leaned in. 

Then, an aroma hits him. His mind slips away from himself, no longer some sweet dove but rather a ravenous vulture. He grabs the scrunched-up fabric and is about to bring it to his face when-

“Mr. Sunday?” 

He whips around and straightens up, clasping his hands behind his back in a dignified posture. You're back, apparently from the bath, judging by the water still in your hair and the towel draped over your arm. 

“Ah, I was just checking out your book collection to see if you have anything on Luofu architecture,” he lies all too easily as he squeezes your panties in his fist. 

“Nothing on architecture, just sacred geometry,” you say as you step further in and begin to peruse your book collection. 

“That's probably above my head,” he says earnestly. “Excuse me.”

He brushes past you, heart racing as he catches a whiff of your bath products. The panties are balled up tightly in his fist. He can't help but think about the scent seeping into his glove. 

He quickly retreats to his room and slides the door shut, making sure to lock it. Even still, he doesn't feel quite safe. Safe from what? He's the dirty, disgusting, dangerous one. Oh Xipe, he has sinned. A pathetic thief, but the deed has been done. What's one more thing to atone for?

He unfurls his hand, revealing your panties and the delicious little white stain on them. Hesitation and humiliation grip him for a moment, but he's already come this far. There's no reconstructing his wings now. All that's left is to fall. 

He brings them to his face and inhales deep. His eyes flutter. His mouth waters, and a hunger blooms deep inside of him like the mouth of the Voracity. He inhales again and again, shivering at the smell hitting the back of his throat. He lets out a quiet groan, mouth opening and letting his tongue dart out to lick a stripe up the fabric, making him moan again. 

This is sick. He's disgusted with himself for not being able to stop. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes as he continues to lap up the scent. He stops just short of shoving the whole garment in his mouth. Instead, he holds it between his teeth, and he hastily unzips his pants to access his throbbing, aching cock. With one hand, he strokes himself with a satisfied moan, while the other hand holds your panties to his nose again. 

The scent makes him dizzy with lust. He stumbles backwards until his back leans against the wall that separates his room from yours. The walls of the Express are thick and soundproof, but even if they weren't, he wouldn't care about your hearing at this point. All that matters is his desperate need for release. The musky, tangy scent has him choking on need. Once again, he begins to lick and suckle at the fabric, eager to consume. 

Any thoughts of him being pathetic and perverse only fuel the burn. His cock is so hard it hurts. He wonders if he could die from need. He wants you. He needs you. He imagines your panties being worn by you and straddling his face as he presses his nose into your leaking cunt. They're soaked with an obscene amount of his saliva.

His imagination runs even wilder—your ass backed into his hips, grinding against him, bending over to rub your leaking pussy all over him. He brings the panties away from his face and wraps the damp fabric around his cock. He throws his head back, whimpering and moaning and panting with reckless abandon. His hips move in short thrusts as some of the fabric catches against his leaky cockhead, mixing his pre with the stain of your juices. 

His belly feels tight. He can feel the veins of his cock swelling up with more blood, making him that much harder. He smears his precum with your panties, biting his lip as he fights his lewd noises. He can't control his hips. He's going to- He’s gonna-

There's a light knocking on his door that slowly brings him to his senses. Rather than be embarrassed, he's annoyed at the interruption. However, he knows it could be something important involving the Express and its crew.

He adjusts his pants and woefully tosses your panties on his bed. All he wants is to get back to his fantasies, but he goes to his door and slides it open only just enough to poke his head out. 

His heart stops when he sees it's you, standing a little awkwardly as you rub the back of your neck. Could you have noticed the panties missing from your hamper? Are you here to call him out on it? Will you accuse him of being a disgusting freak? His cock throbs against his will. 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Sunday?” You ask. 

“Yes,” he answers as normally as he can muster. “Why? Did you hear something?”

You dart your eyes to the side and then look back at him, leaning in closer. 

“I heard you calling for me, um, inside my head. You kept saying you need me. It sounded like you were….in pain,” you say tentatively. 

Sunday blinks at you. You know. He knows. 

Power of the Harmony be damned.

a/n: don't ask what possessed me to write this.

[danijaci]

source: trust me bro (1) w/ phainon

LS! YN is still dedicated to the act even while tipsy!!!

taglist @thatkawaiidesubitch @atsukawolfcat @fandomfloozy @ladiosapalmera @lalalatataa @belovedxiao @liesatemyocean @heather-hutchcroft @absentlyfreshfate @docile-dove @what-was-i-thinking-t-t @skyh20 @avalordream @hyukabean @yanderecon @alatusou @jarjarwinx @m4k0m4y4 @carol-of-the-chains @no-interest-rightnow @bbluppsbblapss @krickets-chirping @mokonasenpaiposts @kohavalon @angelrot9 @lulukex @unseenslayerglitch @moristhesecond

[mewnbuns]

BODY TEMPERATURE | BLADE

⸺ ⟢ blade x fem! reader. pussy jobs. minors do not interact. soaking with blade in the hot springs. a little teasing and such but mostly just something to feed my friends. this is a little rushed so i apologise (i wrote this with one hand honestly).

⸺ ⟢ wc. 2.1k words.

You can just about make him out even from this distance. Perhaps it’s the sheer size of him, the mass of Blade’s muscled back and shoulders easily drawing your attention even as you slowly approach him from behind.

It had been your idea, to stop over in the hot springs while you were both nearby— hoping to lose yourself in a good, warm soak after all of your muscles were screaming at you for a break. Blade hadn’t put up much of an argument about it, and perhaps it’s because you think he could do with the soak too. Either that or he was just happy to oblige your request, but you’re not curious enough to question him on it.

Not when you get to admire the way the damp press of Blade’s hair clings to back of his neck, his body sinking lower into the warm water as you feel the warm air begin to brush over your own nakedness.

You try your best to stay as quiet as possible, even as you slowly creep over the cobblestone that leads you towards where he is, hoping that you may reward yourself with a few more seconds of being able to admire him unnoticed.

But you know Blade hears you, as he always does, acknowledging you with a subtle turn of his head as if his ears are perking up at your approach. He doesn’t move nor shift though, akin to the way a predator might remain still as to not alert their pray.

But if you’re the prey, you seem to be giving yourself up quite willingly.

It only takes a few more silent steps before you come to the lip of the springs, face to face with Blade and immediately you can feel it aswell as see it— the undisguised desire, hot and earnest in his eyes as he takes you in. He’s shameless in his admiration, much as you are to him.

Every look is slow and hungry, and the unwavering admiration is enough to make you shake when you take that first trembling step into the springs to join him.

Blade doesn’t miss a moment of it, not when he can watch how the water line clings to your breasts and molds to your bare straining nipples as you take a breath in. He watches you sink all the way down into the water, until you sit on a ledge at the other end of the spring where your thighs squeeze together and make an alluring, not so mysterious y-shape hiding your center from view.

It’s deliberate on your part, the distance. A detail that you know Blade won’t stand for, especially given the way his gaze is already devouring you completely. But it gets you the reaction you hope for almost immediately; a drop in Blade’s brows, a heat of something darker in his gaze and his jaw tightens before you speak.

You wave your hand through the water, transfixed by the ripples it creates beneath your touch, the shapes reaching all the way across to your lover at the other side.

“How does it feel?” You ask after a moment, “Better?”

“Mmph.” Is all Blade offers, stubborn. But it only makes you feel all the more playful, admiring the way his broad, scarred chest rests above the water.

His voice is much deeper when it calls your gaze back, and his huge body shifts. “Something wrong?”

“Nope.” You answer too quickly, tilting your head. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“Is something the matter with you? You’re scowling.”

It takes Blade a second to respond, you watch the lines of his neck and arms flex before he’s relaxing again, and your brows rise at him.

“Come.” He grunts, obviously unamused as he motions to a place by his side. “Closer.”

“This isn’t close enough for you?”

You swear you see the muscles in Blade’s jaw clench.

“No.” He grinds out.

“Are you sure? I thought maybe you’d appreciate some alone time.”

“Don’t toy with me, girl.”

You can’t help yourself, can’t help but rile up the same man many would consider to be a weapon because you see the way he looks at you, notice the way his heavy, half-hard cock is already twitching beneath the surface of the springs.

You could keep going for longer if you wanted, but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to deny yourself of what awaits you either. Not when you can see the way the temperature of the springs have caused parts of Blade’s features to take on a pink flush, and his chest is rising and falling with his deep breaths.

It’s mouth-watering. So although prematurely, you find yourself closing that distance in only a couple of steps— perhaps driven by your own eagerness as Blade spreads his legs a little wider in anticipation.

You take your new seat by his side before giving him a look.

“Better?”

Blade returns it with one that’s equal parts unamused and full of desire before he motions with his eyes again. To himself this time.

“Here.”

And without a second thought, you do as he says.

Blade sinks into the warm water as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and climb on top of him, placing your knees on either side of his hips as you situate yourself down. Too close to his hard cock for it to be accidental, but he’s more than eager to have you slink into his lap and rub yourself against him.

His body feels like silk beneath you, water sloshing as you feel the first silky grind of his hard cock split through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you gasp and moan at the wet, tacky sound that follows.

His eyes all but burn through you.

“How about now?” You ask in a dreamier voice. “Is that what had gotten you so upset?”

“I have no patience for your games.” Blade grunts and grips your waist as you shamelessly rub your pussy across his cock beneath the water. “Teasing me is a bad habit of yours.”

“I thought you liked that about me.” You giggle, but it breaks off into a moan with the next clumsy thrust of your hips, the shaft rolling languidly through your split folds in a way that makes your toes curl.

It’s incredibly intoxicating, the feeling of Blade’s larger body beneath yours accompanied by the temperature of the springs. He feels so rough and safe and warm. You whine his name, nuzzling down into his damp hair and you feel his mouth catch on your soft breast as you lean yourself back to offer him more of it.

Blade’s mouth works at you tirelessly, lapping and kissing at your perked nipples until your thighs quiver, accompanied by the lurid back and forth sway of your hips in his lap as he mindlessly helps you rock back and forth along the length of him. He presses along your lips and the bump of your clit catches on his swollen cockhead, making you both twitch and your whole body jolts when he nips at your tits with his teeth.

“You’re disobedient. This will not end well for you.” He murmurs against your breasts, full of want.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into your own arm with a lazy, lewd swirl of your hips. Blade’s brows come down as his kisses find their way to your jaw, lips parting to grind out another groan and tease skin with teeth while his rough hands curl into the plush softness of your ass.

You press slow, soft kisses against his forehead, down over his nose and mouth and neck, following the valley of each scar, old and new. Blade lets his head fall back and a deep, guttural growl vibrates against your lips. “Know your limits.”

You pet his shoulders and chest, hum in question that’s way more convincing than it should be for just one sound, and ask in a sweet tone, “And if I don’t?”

“Then when you surrender it will be amusing. Do not test me.”

The depth of Blade’s gaze, accompanied the deep tone of promise in his voice almost burns you, making your pussy twitch from where you’re pressing hard against him. You moan, your toes flexing as they curl up behind you and your nails dig into his arms.

You feel his cock throb at the eagerness of your movements, and then he’s helping grind you against him again.

But it’s almost too easy for Blade to make you into a mess. To make you whimper and keen, peering at him with your forehead against his.

The soft bouncing motion of your body on his cock alongside the saccharine rub of his skin against yours makes you feel delirious. The humid air of the springs fills your lungs with your next inhale, and your breaths turn to rushing pants that make your head spin.

But you can tell that Blade’s enjoying pushing himself up against you, to help you bob and thrust across the length of his cock while you struggle to keep his pace. The catch of his sensitive head and folds of his frenulum against the plush, slick petals of your pussy makes it easy to forget about his prior warning, to ignore the way water splashes over the edge of the springs, to not be affected by what would be embarrassment if anyone were to choose tonight of all nights to indulge in a warm soak.

You feel Blade slip down low in the water, applying pressure to a different angle all while he luxuriates in simply letting you ride him and take your pleasure and give him his. All while he gets to watch your breasts bob and your eyes flutter.

But it’s all too much, too much when the head of his fat cock is pressing through your folds just right and his huge palms are grabbing at your ass to ease himself through it. His hands are pulling you apart, spreading out your pussy from behind to make sure you can’t run from your fate and it makes your heart kick at your chest, you’re beginning to feel boneless above him.

“S-slow down…” You crumble, pleading against Blade’s jugular, but your hips never stopping their hypnotic motions. His chest jumps with an inhale.

“This is what has become of you?” There’s an air of something dark to his tone, his lips smearing against your cheek as he wills your body to keep moving. “Is this all it takes to whittle away one’s resolve?”

Your choked moans of Blade’s name ratchet up in pitch, but squeeze down to a whisper, almost like your whole body is twisting up. He gathers you close and squeezes strong arms around you, you’re gripping tight to the back of his neck and hair while he’s helping hitch your hips impossibly closer to his with a slap of flesh against water.

It’s all too much, the way the tendrils of your orgasm rush towards you with reckless abandon, the pleasure mixing with the rising temperature of the hot springs only making you more lightheaded and pliant. Blade takes in the almost helpless look on your face and all but craves to devour it; mouth smashing onto yours when your head falls forward to allow him the reach.

It’s an intense haze of messy kisses and moans, hands wandering and squeezing, shared growls and shivers despite the heat. The head of his cock catches on your hole, and you moan at the way the simple contact is enough to tease you with the stretch. It makes something grasp deep and agonizing in your gut at the hint of what you could have, hunger rushing fast and quick through his blood as you feel Blade’s cock throb and thicken against you.

“Please…. I—“ Your lips curl, legs shaking as your body bounces against his, you’re so desperate for him to just slip deep inside of you.

But before you can shift your hips just enough to position yourself to allow it, Blade grabs at you— deliberately applying pressure to your clit with the next tangible press of his cock through your folds.

“Not yet.” He almost barks, voice wound tight and cock throbbing as he holds your bleary gaze. “First, I will make something else of you.”

[miyacchino-deactivated20260730]

House Tour (Kamisato Ayato)

You and Ayato have the entire Kamisato Estate to yourselves for the day. With restrained emotions, patience hanging by a single silk thread, rising tension, and one very tempting spa… what could possibly go wrong?

warnings: unprotected sex, overstimulation, edging if you squint, ayato is a meanie, ayato loves to see the reader's tears, sex in the spa teehee, use of pet names like my love, baby, sweetheart

It's hard enough to be around Kamisato Ayato. His lingering gazes, accidental touches, eyes that seem kind on the surface but harbor carnal desires for you... It all drives you mad.

And it seems like the universe was truly testing you today.

"We have the entire estate to ourselves. Why not make the most of it?" His voice is smooth and unhurried, but somehow that polite suggestion feels heated coming from him. Whatever thoughts are reeling in his mind at that moment are anything but polite.

Ayato extended a hand toward you, waiting patiently for you to take it.

"I haven’t properly shown you around the Kamisato Estate yet, have I?"

His fingers closed warmly around yours as he guided you through the winding wooden corridors of the estate. Beyond the open walkways, the pond shimmered in the setting sun's light, golden reflections dancing across the water.

The tiny ripples of the pond seem to reflect the condition of your heart. Restless, tossing, turning, yearning.

"We have our very own spa here, did Ayaka mention it? I love to lose myself there after a long day." His tone was soft. But underneath it ran something else entirely, like a current beneath still water.

"Spa?" The word left your lips smaller than you intended. You had meant to sound steady. The slight tremor in your voice did not go unnoticed by Ayato.

"Hm," he softly nods his head, his dark gaze lingers over your body, committing your every detail and every curve to memory. The way you bite your lip in anticipation makes him feel something he cannot name.

He leaned down to your level, voice dropping an octave. "Want to have a look?"

The proximity knocked the breath from you. You stepped back instinctively and nearly lost your footing before his arm caught you, hand pressing to your lower back, your chest pressed flush against his.

"Oh? Did I startle you, sweetheart? I apologize," he chuckles softly, reluctantly letting go of your waist and settling to holding your hand for now as he guides you towards the spa. Your cheeks are dusted pink out of embarrassment and need. How can he make you melt for him by just putting his hand on your waist?

You're greeted with a soft warmth and the smell of jasmine once you enter the spa. The water reflects the soft light from the lamps, steam fogging the mirror, and the air seems to be charged with electricity. The atmosphere felt heavy and expectant.

"Like it?" his warm breath fans your neck, larger form standing behind you, taking in your expression. You clear your throat and straighten your back, hoping to hold onto some sense, "It's beautiful."

You dare to look back at him and your breath hitches; his eyes are clouded, that signature smile of Ayato replaced by a more serious expression, one that screams lust and desire. His need for you is no longer dressed up in politeness.

"A-ayato?" Your voice comes out barely above a breath.

He hums at you. Drinking in your every little expression, every little movement. His hands found your waist from behind. "There's so much that I want to show you, sweetheart. If you let me," he subtly asks for your permission, face inches away from yours, but not crossing the line until you let him.

Please is the only word you manage to choke out before he crashes his lips onto yours. It's nothing like what you'd expect from the always polite and composed Ayato.

It's not soft or composed. It's wild and desperate, and all teeth and tongue, and much better than what you had pictured it to be like. Through the kiss, he was finally releasing what he'd held back for so long. Every restrained glance, every deliberate distance, every polite deflection.

"Waited so long," he breathes out, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his. His needy hands are clutching your waist tight against his. "We're not getting out of here until I have made you mine in every way I imagined."

The spa echoes of your hungry kiss and needy groans. Your entire feels body as if on fire, wanting to fast forward to the part where you can feel all of him over you.

"Ayato," you murmur, brows drawn together, lips parted. The look on your face drew a low, knowing laugh from him.

"I know, love", his eyes don't leave yours as his hands glide over your body, resting at the zip of your dress and drawing it down. Your hand clutches his shoulders, feeling wobbly on your knees at being almost bare in front of him.

"So beautiful," he coos, pressing his lips to your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your neck. His hand trails towards the clasp of your bra, freeing it easily. You crane your neck to give him more access, nipples stiffening at the contact with the tips of his finger. A breathy ‘Ayato’ leaves your mouth that makes his hardness twitch against your thigh.

You both sigh; he in relief and you in anticipation. Your hand hastily tugs at his coat.

Ayato smiles darkly at your attempts and takes off his clothes for you, "So impatient, aren't you?" You face flushes at his words, but your mind is focused on only one thing: feeling him in you, under you, all over you. And it's evident that he is thinking the same thing, his length already dripping with the proof.

“Let’s get inside?”

Before you could respond, Ayato gathered you into his strong arms, slowly descending into the steaming bath. Your naked bodies flush against each other, the water rippling around you two when he settles into the bath with you over his lap.

You straddle him, clothed core pressing against his hardness. Did he not take your panties to rile you up even more? You grind in need, earning a choked moan from Ayato.

"You've been awfully quiet," he whispers in your ear, teeth gritting together as your hips roll over his hard length, "Should I assume the spa is to your liking?"

"Spa is the last thing on my mind right now," you murmur, nibbling on his neck, hand roaming over his toned chest.

His hands grip your waist, guiding your movement over him and edging both of you, "And here I was trying so hard to behave."

"Don't," you cut him off, "please don't."

That seems to snap the thread that was holding him together; you hear the ripping sound of fabric before you realize it was your panties (now thrown around somewhere). His sole focus right now is to fuck you senseless.

"How could I ever deny you?" he captures your lips in a bruising kiss, hand palming over your leaking pussy, throbbing with need. Broken pleas and moans escape your lips, "Ayato," you groan in frustration, "please."

"Please, what?" his dark eyes glint in amusement at you falling apart for him by just his hands, pointer rubbing circles over your clit so lightly you can barely feel it. You throw your head back in need, pushing down on his hand.

Ayato tuts, landing a sharp slap over your needy cunt, "Please what, my love?" he tilts his head, eyes soft as if he isn't being cruel to you.

"Please.." your hips move to no avail in his steadying grip, "fuck me" you let it out, biting your lip, eyes glassy with need.

He groans desperately as if it is physically hurting him to hold back any longer, "hold onto me". You lift up, and he aligns himself at your weeping pussy, throbbing with need and wet with slick.

His hands hold your waist, pushing you down on him. Your toes curl at his head pushing past your entrance, nails digging into his shoulders. Breathy moans leave both your lips; the water seems to be turning hotter around you two.

"Ayato," you silently ask for help, his eyebrow raises at your pleas, as if enjoying your struggle.

He pushes you down slowly, your hole being stretched apart inch by delicious inch, that pulls out broken grunts and cries out of your mouth that Ayato loves oh so much.

"So good, isn't it, sweetheart?" He breathes heavily over your lips. You only manage to nod, breath knocked out of your lungs as he pushes the remaining length inside you in one go.

"Nghh..wait. So good," you blabber, already cockdrunk, biting your lips to hold back your embarrassingly loud moans.

"Let me hear you" he thrusts into you, holding you in place, making the spa echo with your cries.

His thrusts don't falter; instead, they seem to be picking up in pace. Strong hands guiding your movement, his cock drilling deeper inside you than anything you've ever felt before.

The spa walls held every sound: your choked gasps, the rhythmic shift of water, the low, rough sounds he made against your hair. His hands guided your hips at his pace, his focus entirely on you. The way your expression shifted, the sounds he could pull from you, the way your body responded and tightened around him.

"Ride me" he instructs, lips latching over your nipple, his hand tugging and pulling at the other one.

You tried. Your thighs burned with the effort, his length impossibly deep, and the movement felt clumsy compared to the precision of what he'd been doing to you.

"Best you can do?" He tuts in disappointment, fucking into you again while he worships your breasts bouncing in his face. A magnificent sight just for him.

His name comes out of your mouth in cries and pleas, what you're pleading for, you don't know anymore.

"Ah-" your toes curl as he hits a sensitive spot inside you that makes your whole body seize. He looks up at you, a smirk tugging on his lips, kissing over your soft breasts.

Keeping it as a target to make you go mush around him, he continues to abuse that spot. Loving the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes, "right there" he draws out, leaving marks over your neck, claiming you as his, his hips rutting into you at a deeper pace.

You don't know what you're speaking anymore, feeling him all over you; his hands over your waist, his thick length stretching you out and hitting deliciously deep inside you, his mouth sucking marks over your neck. The sensations make a tight coil form inside your tummy.

You instinctively clench around him, making him take in a sharp breath, "fuck" he mutters under his breath, your warm walls tightening around him and signaling your impending orgasm.

You didn't know your own name anymore. You only know the press of his hands, the heat of his mouth, the way his cock drills so deep into you.

Your broken cries turn into sobs of his name, head thrown back, letting him fuck himself into you. Your mouth opens lax as the orgasm washes over you, gummy walls quivering and milking him deep inside you, painting your womb with hot ropes of his cum.

"Don't stop" you cry out, "please".

"Not planning to," he picks you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he settles you onto the floor. Comfort be damned, you want him fucking you into tomorrow.

He drills back into you, pushing his and your cum back into you. Your eyes roll back at the pain and pleasure, hands trying to hold onto something to ground yourself before they find purchase on his broad shoulders, leaving trails of red from your scratches over his pale skin.

"Ayato" you moan out, hot tears rolling down your face at his punishing pace. His breath coming out in short huffs, eyes clouded over with pure need and dominance.

"Mine" he grunts out, hands keeping you in place as he fucks into you erratically; rhythm lost and only his need for you spurring him on.

At your cry of 'yours' he grips you harder, his lips curve into a satisfied smirk at your submission. "That's right" he hits the spot that makes you scream out, loving the way you leave red angry marks over his shoulders, "all mine. to love. to fuck. to keep." he punctuates his words with thrusts angled at your g-spot.

That's what it took to make your second orgasm wash over you, your broken screams echoing off the walls, eyes rolled back, and toes curled. Ayato isn't far behind, your fucked out body under him, soft walls squeezing him tight, and your cries tip him over the edge once again. wincing and grunting as he fills you up again.

He holds still for a moment. The point where you're joined, it's a complete mess. You gasp in soreness as he pulls out, his and your release leaking out of your fucked out pussy. The sight makes him groan in appreciation.

"This is the most beautiful you've ever looked," Ayato kisses your temple, "so full of me, can't even keep it in, can you? Poor baby." He wipes your tears and kisses your cheek. Nuzzling into your neck to catch his breath.

"So.." you huff, breathing heavily, "so good.. can't walk."

He laughs at your huffing, "So good, indeed. I wonder if I can ever top this experience." There's a glint in his eyes that makes your eyes go wide in fear.

"What, you're planning to do something even wilder? already? Give me a break," you weakly push at him, making him laugh at your antics.

"Not yet, my love. Don't worry," he peppers kisses over your face, picking you up gently in his arms, "let's get you cleaned up for now."

Truth be told, you were, in fact, imagining what he plans to do the next time. And you definitely couldn't wait.

divider by @girlonabreak and @omi-resources

[birdsofpasssage]

[dontgivemetiramisu]

That visual of lohen mocking your moans hasn't left my mind since yesterday 💀💀 legit woke up thinking about it. The menace would do it mainly when he has you in a position where you can't fight him about it, preferably if his mouth is right besides your ear... or maybe not! give him a good slap or punch to shut him up if it really upsets you!

He needs to be put down posthaste! Preferably mauled by all of us.

You're sooo right, he'd preferably do it when he has the upper hand!! Maybe he has you on your stomach or just too sensitive to fight back- that's when he strikes! He keeps using that stupid high pitched voice right beside your ear so you can hear every time he repeats what you say.. "ohh too deep!" "No more, please!" "Ah, ahh!" And he'd laugh every single time- that laugh he does that borders on a growl.

If you find the strength in yourself to fight back he'd LOVE it, crack his nose with your elbow and get him to back off for a second- when he comes back with even more fervor to push you down and use you.. your scratches are met with cruel bites, kicks met with bruising grips and he even put you in a choking headlock before resuming fucking you.

more than sex it just looks like two animals fighting tooth and nail, eventually he wins though.. he's not a vice captain for nothing!

By the end you'd both be covered in bruises and scratches, you're pretty sure you broke his nose and he definitely almost dislocated your shoulder twice.. but it felt so good you can't help but go back to him each time, even if you act like you don't like it, you both know

[thehatboxwitch]

anaxa loves how sensitive your clit is.

"eight thousand nerve endings," he murmurs against your ear, patting your mound, warm and twitchy under his fingers. "right here. is that good?"

you whine, push your face into the side of his neck. anaxa chuckles and lets you press into him as he strokes you slowly, relishing the way your hips lift and relax under his touch.

how sweet you were to let him have access to your most vulnerable spot. it was fascinating to him that there seemed to be an spot on your body that was made solely for your pleasure, but more fascinating still was the trust which you placed in him.

anaxa pinches you lightly and you jump with a sound of complaint.

"sorry, sorry," he chuckles, soothing the area, going back to stroking you just how you liked.

your quiet whimpers are muffed against his skin. pressed up this close to you, anaxa can feel each tiny tremor as he gathers up your slick on his fingers, knowing it's at this point you usually try to squirm.

"be good," he soothes, pressing a hand against your belly when he feels you flex. "stay there."

"anaxa," you whine again, nuzzling against him, trying to get any relief he'd let you have.

"i'll let you cum. be patient, sweet thing."

a grumble of both frustration and pleasure slips out of you when he slips his fingers in. your walls flex against him as if determined to push him out, then relax all at once and he curls his fingers inside you.

you cry out immediately and slam tight around him.

"is that good?" he purrs, massaging that sweet spot within you. he's rewarded with a sob of his name - he must have been playing with you longer than he'd intended. you're tense and desperate and oh so adorable in his grasp and anaxa can feel himself painfully hard.

"yes," you cry out, head knocking back against his shoulder. "s'good, please-"

"almost there," he promises, letting the rhythm of your squeezing guide him. it nearly hurts, but feeling how tight you are gives anaxa a heady burst of confidence. "good girl. cum for me."

you whine his name, gasping, hips jerking up into his hand as the hot knot of pleasure within you snaps. anaxa presses his thumb onto your clit and you seem to cum even harder (how fascinating, he hadn't known that was possible).

"anaxa," you cry. "anaxa, nax, too much, nngh-"

he hums in acknowledgement and keeps rubbing circles. "you can take it. indulge me one more time, okay?"

[swansolstce]

I don’t think Phainon would dedicate a special moment or make some sort of dramatic show out of telling you his true name. Rather, I think it would just slip out during a heated moment…

Because he doesn't care much for the praises sung to him by the people of Okhema — there, he's Phainon day in and day out. Phainon, the Chrysos Heir. Phainon, the Deliverer. Lord Phainon. Even in the sanctum of the bedroom, as his tongue laps through your slit, you call out to Phainon, the Nameless Hero. Your Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.

"Khaslana," he murmurs, his mouth still against your folds. "My name is Khaslana," he repeats, reminding himself that he, too, has a name.

His voice reverberates deep into your core, and you grind into him, as if your hips had moved on his command. Khaslana, he had said. His name is Khaslana (though you make a note to question him about that later). How beautiful, you think...

"..Khaslana..." Especially as it rolls past your lips in a pitched moan — soft and quivering, as if you were still testing the waters to gauge a response.

His grip tightens, his fingers replying with a promise to bruise the supple skin beneath his hands as he proceeds to hold your legs still. You would think him a man starved, the way it seems to invigorate him as he drives himself further into you — nose bumping against your clit, tongue prodding into your warmth. Your voice breaks in a trail of whimpers, and he thinks perhaps he does have a selfish wish of his own.

"Again," he groans between a particularly assertive run of his tongue. "Say it again."

© swansolstce — do not feed into AI, steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[pearlescenthoney]

upskirt

synopsis. what if you were able to completely get rid of your bully? what if you had to do just a tiiiiiiiny thing for you to be free? you’d do it, no?

pairing. bully! rafayel qi x reader

content/mdni. DUBCON. COERCION. fem!reader, implied uni!au, goodie-two-shoes!reader, innocent!reader, implied virgin!reader, implied delinquent!rafayel, dom!rafayel, bully!rafayel, mean!rafayel, pervert!rafayel, manipulative!rafayel, embarrassed!reader, ashamed!reader, MANIPULATION, looking up your skirt oop, slight groping, clit play, DACRYPHILIA,  begging (m receiving), ORGASM DENIAL/EDGING (f receiving), teasing, slight praise, slight degradation, pet names (princess, good girl, little lamb), recording/taking pictures, allusion to (possible) blackmail.

word count. 2k

a/n. MEAN RAFAYEL MEAN RAFAYEL MEAN RAFAYEL. miiiiiiight write a part two where you go chase him! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

the afternoon light spilled through the high, grimy windows of the abandoned hall, illuminating dust particles that swirled in the stale air.

you should have known better than to take the shortcut through the old humanities building. but you were in a hurry, your bag full of books, your mind full of notes for an exam you could barely afford to fail.

you should have known better than to go through one of the delinquents’ favorite spot in campus.

rafayel’s voice curled around you before you saw him.

“well, well, well. look who’s wandering into the wolf’s den.”

you froze.

“a lost little lamb, so stupidly unguarded.”

he emerged from the shadows between the forgotten lockers, all sharp smirk and lazy demeanor, his uniform deliberately disheveled — tie loose, top buttons undone, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows.

he leaned against the doorframe in front of you, blocking the only exit that would give way into the new, crowded building.

“rafayel.” you managed, voice between a gasp and a whisper, hating how high your pitch sounded. “i– i don’t have time for this now.”

“you never have time for me, princess.” he pushed off the frame and walked closer, each step powerful against the wooden boards; a predatory stance against your cowering form. an attitude that deeply contrasted with his meek words. “that hurts my feelings.”

but you knew better than to listen to his vitriolic words, to that charming tune in his voice. so you backed away, until your hips struck the edge of a long oak desk, placed in the hallway for some unknown reason.

“please. just leave me alone.”

“but i like you right here.” he stopped inches from you, head tilted down towards your own, close enough that you could smell his cologne — an expensive and dark aroma that perfectly worked for him.

his fingers, always twitching with the need to feel you, found a strand of your hair and twirled it. it was almost romantic, the position the two of you were in… if one didn’t know the reality, that is.

“all flushed. all alone. no one to save you.”

what he was saying was true — he made it to be true. you had no friends to text, no one who would notice you missing. he knew it with certainty. he’d made sure of it, spreading rumors, isolating you with his cruel, infectious charm, until everyone on campus avoided you like the plague.

“what do you want?” you whispered, abandoning any hopes of being let alone without satisfying rafayel. and to do that, you had to find what his evil mind desired from you this time.

his grin widened at your question, pleased that you’d inquire about his needs. “right now? to watch you squirm beneath me.”

he cornered you further against the desk, leaning into your body and caging you with his arms. one hand slid along the table to your waist, squeezing the roundness of your body once, before trailing lower towards your ass.

you flinched and shooed his hand away, displeased by the physicality of his actions. he only laughed, amused by your reaction, as if he wanted the discomfort on your face more than the actual touches of your body.

“stop.” you hissed, voice cracking, and you pushed your body into the desk more to widen the distance between you and him. “please, rafayel. i’ll– ’ll do anything just so you leave me alone for good.”

ah, you’ve finally offered him something interesting.

his eyes glittered. “anything?”

something more interesting than your visible discomfort.

you nodded, desperate, fingers almost snapping in half from the way you were gripping the edge of the desk.

he tilted his head, pretending to contemplate his answer, pretending he didn’t already have something in mind for your pathetic self. his expression turned wicked, his seductive grin stretching into a scary smirk.

“show me.”

“huh?”

“lift your skirt.” he said it like it was nothing, pointing at the long skirt the girls’ uniforms had. making a circle in the air around your entirely covered legs. “let me see what’s under there. that’s all. and i’ll never bother you again.”

your stomach dropped, almost cramping at hearing his wish. “that’s– no.”

“then i guess i’ll see you later. and tomorrow. and the day after.” he shrugged, already stepping back, arms moving away from the desk and folding behind his neck. “and the day after. i’ll make your life a living hell, princess.”

no. no, no, no, no–

“wait.” the word tore out of you before you could think your options through. “fine. fine. just– not here.” you whispered quietly, looking around the abandoned hallway with suspicion.

he puffed, slow and satisfied, then walked back towards you. “follow me.” guiding you through the delinquents’ hiding spot to a more secluded place.

“here.”

he led you to a small, windowless storage room at the end of an adjacent hall: piles of old exams, broken chairs, a single flickering fluorescent light that somehow still worked. he blocked the door behind him with one of the chairs and gestured you to a small, intact desk near the wall.

“hop up on your throne, princess.”

you obeyed, pulse hammering against your pristine university shirt as you assumed position, taking a seat at the edge of the desk. your hands shook as you grasped the margins and hitched your long pleated skirt, bunching the excess fabric at your hips as you kept the hem up.

“ah.” the air was cold against your bare thighs and you couldn’t help out the hiss that escaped your lips.

rafayel hummed at your position as he leaned against the opposite wall, yet his arms crossed in dissatisfaction. “wider, princess. spread your legs for me.”

your face burned at his raunchy command, legs smushing together even more. “you said just the skirt.”

“but i can’t see anything.” he didn’t move, just watched you with hooded eyes, throwing spiteful comments at your weak self. “you want me gone forever? then do what i say. part your legs, let me see.”

humiliation curdled in your throat, but you, nonetheless, obeyed. slowly, trembling, you let your knees fall apart, meeting the edge of the desk with your bare skin.

at that, he finally pushed off the wall and stepped between them, close enough that you could smell that expensive perfume once more. he looked down at you, as he always does; but now there was something different about him — his eyes, darkened with mischief, stared at the thin cotton of your panties…

fixated on the damp spot that was already forming against the white material.

betraying you completely.

“my, my.” he murmured, dragging a finger up your inner thigh. enjoying the way your leg jolted at the touch. “you’re not as innocent as you pretend, are you?”

“i…” you whined from behind your skirt. “please– you said just looking–”

“and i’m looking.” he bent down, bringing his face at the level of your covered cunt. and you whimpered. “look at that. wet already. just from me telling you what to do. you like this, don’t you? being helpless?”

you shook your head, but your body disagreed, pushing out a glob of slick and making the wet patch grow right beneath rafayel’s eyes.

“fuuuck, you’re so fucking nasty, princess.”

you were too good for him now, acting like the needy, untouched woman he portrayed you as. he couldn’t help it anymore, so he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

deciding to immortalize the moment.

“smile for me.”

“n–no!” you mustered up and immediately tried to shove your skirt down, to hide your drenching panties and your obvious arousal from the camera.

but he caught one of your wrists, grip iron-tight, and forced you to keep the skirt up for him.

“ah–ah. you said you’d do anything. remember?” he repositioned your other hand as well, successfully clearing the view, then he raised the phone, angling it between your legs. “now hold still.”

the shutter clicked. once. twice. three times. each sound a knife through your chest.

each click a new drop of stickiness on your panties.

“p–please delete those.” you begged, eyes beading with tears from the convolution of emotions that were taking over your mind. “rafayel, please.”

fuck, that only made rafayel want to torture you more.

“and why would i do that?” he examined the photos, thumb swiping across the screen and stopping on the perfect picture – arousal shining beautifully between your legs as a few brave tears rolled across your cheeks.

“you look so pretty like this. all wet and desperate. just for me.” he tucked the phone away and leaned in, breath hot against your ear as he whispered. “you’ve been such a good girl for me, princess, so i won’t send them to anyone else.”

you slumped with relief, arms falling one level down from their original position.

thinking you’ve escaped rafayel for good.

but his hand returned to your thigh, then slid inwards, one finger unexpectedly pressing against the soaked material of your panties. you gasped, from shock and pleasure, hips jerking back into his hand, head falling onto his left shoulder.

he was rubbing slow circles over your swollen clit through the fabric, closely watching how your face contorted in pleasure against his shirt.

“so sensitive.” he said, almost laughing at your reactions. “is this your first time being touched, princess? by someone who isn’t yourself?”

you couldn’t answer.

with a harsher push, your head fell back, a broken moan escaping your lips from the pleasure. without asking for permission, rafayel snatched your panties aside with two fingers, exposing your slick, swollen cunt to the cold air.

to his hungry, lust-filled eyes.

“oh, that’s it... such a pretty pussy.” he whistled, praising the body part he always wanted to see. he’d pulled the phone out again, this time hitting the screen once — recording. “quality material for my private collection.”

“rafayel–”

he pressed two fingers flat against your bare cunt, sliding through the wetness, and your protests dissolved into whines and moanes. he rubbed your clit in tight, maddening circles, not enough pressure, not fast enough, just enough to have you gushing more creamy arousal onto the desk below.

“you want to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, voice syrupy sweet, contrasting with the brutality of his fingers against your pussy.

“yes.” you choked, voice vibrating on the recording. “please.”

“please what?”

“please let me cum.”

he laughed at that, soft and cruel, savoring the way a few touches turned you into such a needy mess. “beg prettier.”

so you begged. you pleaded.

you dug your fingers into the desk’s edge, skirt long forgotten, tears streaming, hips grinding against his hand. your whole being focused on that point of contact between your two bodies, on the wet sounds of his fingers playing with you, on the occasional beeping of his phone recording every humiliating second.

“ngh– please, rafayel, i need it, i need to cum, please, please–”

but, oh no, where’s the fun in that?

he stopped.

just stopped. pulled his hand away. casually wiped his fingers on your inner thigh and stood, backing up, sliding his phone into his pocket.

like nothing happened.

you stared at him, chest heaving, head hurting, cunt aching and empty and so so close it was physically painful to breath.

“what– why–”

“because i just wanted a look.” he smiled, that same lazy, condescending smile, proudly reminding you of his wish. like you previously did. “you don’t get to cum, princess. not from me, at least.”

“h–huh?”

“you’ll think about this tonight, won’t you? lying alone in your stupid little bed, touching yourself, wishing it was my hand.”

he unlocked the door and stepped through, pausing for a brief second in the doorway.

“thanks for the fun, princess. and don’t worry– i’ll leave you alone now.”

“wait, wait!”

the door clicked shut. his footsteps faded.

you sat there, skirt bunched around your waist, panties ruined, thighs trembling, the ghost of his fingers still burning between your legs.

rafayel finally left you alone, but now... now you’re no longer sure you want that.

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @yuunileb, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @damianalily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!

[pearlescenthoney]

upskirt

synopsis. what if you were able to completely get rid of your bully? what if you had to do just a tiiiiiiiny thing for you to be free? you’d do it, no?

pairing. bully! rafayel qi x reader

content/mdni. DUBCON. COERCION. fem!reader, implied uni!au, goodie-two-shoes!reader, innocent!reader, implied virgin!reader, implied delinquent!rafayel, dom!rafayel, bully!rafayel, mean!rafayel, pervert!rafayel, manipulative!rafayel, embarrassed!reader, ashamed!reader, MANIPULATION, looking up your skirt oop, slight groping, clit play, DACRYPHILIA,  begging (m receiving), ORGASM DENIAL/EDGING (f receiving), teasing, slight praise, slight degradation, pet names (princess, good girl, little lamb), recording/taking pictures, allusion to (possible) blackmail.

word count. 2k

a/n. MEAN RAFAYEL MEAN RAFAYEL MEAN RAFAYEL. miiiiiiight write a part two where you go chase him! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

the afternoon light spilled through the high, grimy windows of the abandoned hall, illuminating dust particles that swirled in the stale air.

you should have known better than to take the shortcut through the old humanities building. but you were in a hurry, your bag full of books, your mind full of notes for an exam you could barely afford to fail.

you should have known better than to go through one of the delinquents’ favorite spot in campus.

rafayel’s voice curled around you before you saw him.

“well, well, well. look who’s wandering into the wolf’s den.”

you froze.

“a lost little lamb, so stupidly unguarded.”

he emerged from the shadows between the forgotten lockers, all sharp smirk and lazy demeanor, his uniform deliberately disheveled — tie loose, top buttons undone, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows.

he leaned against the doorframe in front of you, blocking the only exit that would give way into the new, crowded building.

“rafayel.” you managed, voice between a gasp and a whisper, hating how high your pitch sounded. “i– i don’t have time for this now.”

“you never have time for me, princess.” he pushed off the frame and walked closer, each step powerful against the wooden boards; a predatory stance against your cowering form. an attitude that deeply contrasted with his meek words. “that hurts my feelings.”

but you knew better than to listen to his vitriolic words, to that charming tune in his voice. so you backed away, until your hips struck the edge of a long oak desk, placed in the hallway for some unknown reason.

“please. just leave me alone.”

“but i like you right here.” he stopped inches from you, head tilted down towards your own, close enough that you could smell his cologne — an expensive and dark aroma that perfectly worked for him.

his fingers, always twitching with the need to feel you, found a strand of your hair and twirled it. it was almost romantic, the position the two of you were in… if one didn’t know the reality, that is.

“all flushed. all alone. no one to save you.”

what he was saying was true — he made it to be true. you had no friends to text, no one who would notice you missing. he knew it with certainty. he’d made sure of it, spreading rumors, isolating you with his cruel, infectious charm, until everyone on campus avoided you like the plague.

“what do you want?” you whispered, abandoning any hopes of being let alone without satisfying rafayel. and to do that, you had to find what his evil mind desired from you this time.

his grin widened at your question, pleased that you’d inquire about his needs. “right now? to watch you squirm beneath me.”

he cornered you further against the desk, leaning into your body and caging you with his arms. one hand slid along the table to your waist, squeezing the roundness of your body once, before trailing lower towards your ass.

you flinched and shooed his hand away, displeased by the physicality of his actions. he only laughed, amused by your reaction, as if he wanted the discomfort on your face more than the actual touches of your body.

“stop.” you hissed, voice cracking, and you pushed your body into the desk more to widen the distance between you and him. “please, rafayel. i’ll– ’ll do anything just so you leave me alone for good.”

ah, you’ve finally offered him something interesting.

his eyes glittered. “anything?”

something more interesting than your visible discomfort.

you nodded, desperate, fingers almost snapping in half from the way you were gripping the edge of the desk.

he tilted his head, pretending to contemplate his answer, pretending he didn’t already have something in mind for your pathetic self. his expression turned wicked, his seductive grin stretching into a scary smirk.

“show me.”

“huh?”

“lift your skirt.” he said it like it was nothing, pointing at the long skirt the girls’ uniforms had. making a circle in the air around your entirely covered legs. “let me see what’s under there. that’s all. and i’ll never bother you again.”

your stomach dropped, almost cramping at hearing his wish. “that’s– no.”

“then i guess i’ll see you later. and tomorrow. and the day after.” he shrugged, already stepping back, arms moving away from the desk and folding behind his neck. “and the day after. i’ll make your life a living hell, princess.”

no. no, no, no, no–

“wait.” the word tore out of you before you could think your options through. “fine. fine. just– not here.” you whispered quietly, looking around the abandoned hallway with suspicion.

he puffed, slow and satisfied, then walked back towards you. “follow me.” guiding you through the delinquents’ hiding spot to a more secluded place.

“here.”

he led you to a small, windowless storage room at the end of an adjacent hall: piles of old exams, broken chairs, a single flickering fluorescent light that somehow still worked. he blocked the door behind him with one of the chairs and gestured you to a small, intact desk near the wall.

“hop up on your throne, princess.”

you obeyed, pulse hammering against your pristine university shirt as you assumed position, taking a seat at the edge of the desk. your hands shook as you grasped the margins and hitched your long pleated skirt, bunching the excess fabric at your hips as you kept the hem up.

“ah.” the air was cold against your bare thighs and you couldn’t help out the hiss that escaped your lips.

rafayel hummed at your position as he leaned against the opposite wall, yet his arms crossed in dissatisfaction. “wider, princess. spread your legs for me.”

your face burned at his raunchy command, legs smushing together even more. “you said just the skirt.”

“but i can’t see anything.” he didn’t move, just watched you with hooded eyes, throwing spiteful comments at your weak self. “you want me gone forever? then do what i say. part your legs, let me see.”

humiliation curdled in your throat, but you, nonetheless, obeyed. slowly, trembling, you let your knees fall apart, meeting the edge of the desk with your bare skin.

at that, he finally pushed off the wall and stepped between them, close enough that you could smell that expensive perfume once more. he looked down at you, as he always does; but now there was something different about him — his eyes, darkened with mischief, stared at the thin cotton of your panties…

fixated on the damp spot that was already forming against the white material.

betraying you completely.

“my, my.” he murmured, dragging a finger up your inner thigh. enjoying the way your leg jolted at the touch. “you’re not as innocent as you pretend, are you?”

“i…” you whined from behind your skirt. “please– you said just looking–”

“and i’m looking.” he bent down, bringing his face at the level of your covered cunt. and you whimpered. “look at that. wet already. just from me telling you what to do. you like this, don’t you? being helpless?”

you shook your head, but your body disagreed, pushing out a glob of slick and making the wet patch grow right beneath rafayel’s eyes.

“fuuuck, you’re so fucking nasty, princess.”

you were too good for him now, acting like the needy, untouched woman he portrayed you as. he couldn’t help it anymore, so he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

deciding to immortalize the moment.

“smile for me.”

“n–no!” you mustered up and immediately tried to shove your skirt down, to hide your drenching panties and your obvious arousal from the camera.

but he caught one of your wrists, grip iron-tight, and forced you to keep the skirt up for him.

“ah–ah. you said you’d do anything. remember?” he repositioned your other hand as well, successfully clearing the view, then he raised the phone, angling it between your legs. “now hold still.”

the shutter clicked. once. twice. three times. each sound a knife through your chest.

each click a new drop of stickiness on your panties.

“p–please delete those.” you begged, eyes beading with tears from the convolution of emotions that were taking over your mind. “rafayel, please.”

fuck, that only made rafayel want to torture you more.

“and why would i do that?” he examined the photos, thumb swiping across the screen and stopping on the perfect picture – arousal shining beautifully between your legs as a few brave tears rolled across your cheeks.

“you look so pretty like this. all wet and desperate. just for me.” he tucked the phone away and leaned in, breath hot against your ear as he whispered. “you’ve been such a good girl for me, princess, so i won’t send them to anyone else.”

you slumped with relief, arms falling one level down from their original position.

thinking you’ve escaped rafayel for good.

but his hand returned to your thigh, then slid inwards, one finger unexpectedly pressing against the soaked material of your panties. you gasped, from shock and pleasure, hips jerking back into his hand, head falling onto his left shoulder.

he was rubbing slow circles over your swollen clit through the fabric, closely watching how your face contorted in pleasure against his shirt.

“so sensitive.” he said, almost laughing at your reactions. “is this your first time being touched, princess? by someone who isn’t yourself?”

you couldn’t answer.

with a harsher push, your head fell back, a broken moan escaping your lips from the pleasure. without asking for permission, rafayel snatched your panties aside with two fingers, exposing your slick, swollen cunt to the cold air.

to his hungry, lust-filled eyes.

“oh, that’s it... such a pretty pussy.” he whistled, praising the body part he always wanted to see. he’d pulled the phone out again, this time hitting the screen once — recording. “quality material for my private collection.”

“rafayel–”

he pressed two fingers flat against your bare cunt, sliding through the wetness, and your protests dissolved into whines and moanes. he rubbed your clit in tight, maddening circles, not enough pressure, not fast enough, just enough to have you gushing more creamy arousal onto the desk below.

“you want to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, voice syrupy sweet, contrasting with the brutality of his fingers against your pussy.

“yes.” you choked, voice vibrating on the recording. “please.”

“please what?”

“please let me cum.”

he laughed at that, soft and cruel, savoring the way a few touches turned you into such a needy mess. “beg prettier.”

so you begged. you pleaded.

you dug your fingers into the desk’s edge, skirt long forgotten, tears streaming, hips grinding against his hand. your whole being focused on that point of contact between your two bodies, on the wet sounds of his fingers playing with you, on the occasional beeping of his phone recording every humiliating second.

“ngh– please, rafayel, i need it, i need to cum, please, please–”

but, oh no, where’s the fun in that?

he stopped.

just stopped. pulled his hand away. casually wiped his fingers on your inner thigh and stood, backing up, sliding his phone into his pocket.

like nothing happened.

you stared at him, chest heaving, head hurting, cunt aching and empty and so so close it was physically painful to breath.

“what– why–”

“because i just wanted a look.” he smiled, that same lazy, condescending smile, proudly reminding you of his wish. like you previously did. “you don’t get to cum, princess. not from me, at least.”

“h–huh?”

“you’ll think about this tonight, won’t you? lying alone in your stupid little bed, touching yourself, wishing it was my hand.”

he unlocked the door and stepped through, pausing for a brief second in the doorway.

“thanks for the fun, princess. and don’t worry– i’ll leave you alone now.”

“wait, wait!”

the door clicked shut. his footsteps faded.

you sat there, skirt bunched around your waist, panties ruined, thighs trembling, the ghost of his fingers still burning between your legs.

rafayel finally left you alone, but now... now you’re no longer sure you want that.

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @yuunileb, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @damianalily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!

[kiyuhufu]

Do writers still use ‘darling’ to describe readers in their yan! fics or are we past that </3

[video-game-luvr]

Darling for lifers!! Darling over y/n any day!!