I Love This One So Much

I love this one so much 💕

hi bae, can i pls request reader who’s recovering from eating problems and is gaining a bit of weight and gets insecure with poly marauders but they just find her more attractive cause of it

fighting demons rn

🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi sweetheart, apologies for the wait! I was hunting your demons with a crossbow. Thanks for requesting <3

cw: implied past disordered eating, body image issues

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Your favorite high waisted jeans used to sit just so on your hips, practically hanging off your hip bones. Now, they hug your waist, which you try to reason is where they were always meant to be, but it feels so wrong on your body. Everything about your body feels wrong. You jam your fingers in the waistband, and there’s little give. You’re beginning to wonder if you should even bother with these, when you know you’ll eat and they’ll start to bite into your midsection like a punishment. But they’re your favorite jeans.

James comes through on his way to the bathroom with a careless “Hi, lovie,” and you drop your hands from where they’ve been pinching critically at your waist. 

“Hi,” you echo halfheartedly. 

James pauses, pivoting slightly to give you a curious look. You have an out here, you know. You could fake a smile or feign confusion, and he’d let it go. Perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on you today, but James will never push the issue if you don’t feel like talking. 

Maybe it’s the option that makes you think it might be nice to externalize. 

“I’ve gained weight,” you say plainly. There. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up, more surprised at the abruptness of your complaint than the complaint itself. “Well, I should hope so. You’ve been doing really well lately.” 

“It’s just,” you sigh, “my jeans don’t fit.” 

He gives you a quick look-over, then an odd sort of smile. “They look great to me. Do they not feel right?” 

You feel your mouth quirk to the side. A dissatisfied pinch. “They used to feel different.” 

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says, going into the bathroom. You hear the satisfying schwick of his deodorant cap sliding off. “Do they still sell those same ones?”

You give a tentative nod as he emerges from the bathroom again, and he shrugs at you, a funny scrunch at the bridge of his nose. 

“Then get them in a bigger size.” 

Not what you want to hear. Not necessarily his fault, either. James doesn’t get it. How could he? The only time James’ body doesn’t look like it was drawn into a superhero comic is the few weeks of off-season where he doesn’t train as hard and gets a bit of pudge around his middle. And even then, it’s a very lovable pudge. James Potter wouldn’t know insecurity if it slept in his bed every night. (Which it does. You do.) 

“That’s not the point,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “I just—I liked how these ones looked on me before. Don’t you think I look…different?” 

The scrunch migrates from the bridge of his nose to just above it, an unhappy notch between his brows. “Well, yeah. But I mean, I like it.” 

You give him a deadpan look. 

“I’m being honest.” James holds up his hands. “Really, sweetheart, I didn’t want to—I know talking about your body can be an issue for you, so I didn’t want to bring it up, but you’ve been looking fantastic lately.” 

You’re quiet, stuck. You aren’t sure what you’d wanted out of this anymore (validation, maybe?) but you’re not going to get it this way. You only feel bad for putting James in this position. He’s your boyfriend and a good one, he only ever had one way out of this. 

“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your arms around your torso, “I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.” 

“Hey.” He steps into your space, hooking his fingers through your belt loops to turn you towards him. “You’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give. You look amazing, I mean it.” Your eyes fall to his chest and he stoops to follow them, dark brows rising incredulously. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

You sigh. “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Can we not—”

“Nope.” James lets go of one of your belt loops but keeps a firm hold on the other. “Sorry, no longer an option.” He begins tugging you out of the room. Your hips follow disloyally, and though you wrap your hands around his wrist, he holds fast. 

“James, come on.” You give a little resistance, but he drags you doggedly onward. You could tear away if you commit to it, but these really are your favorite jeans and James is just as likely to take your belt loop with him. 

In the living room, Sirius is mending a pair of James’ trousers while Remus does the crossword, which involves him reading the clues aloud and Sirius firing off unrelated and too-long words until Remus gets it himself. Remus hears your protest first, brows rising as James brings you into the room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, somewhat warily. 

“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s lovely,” James says, like Can you believe it? Remus blinks and Sirius’ eyes flit up from his work, one brow quirking.

“That’s not what I said,” you defend. 

He releases you, and you step away, crossing your arms over your midsection. “Go on, then.” James sounds truly encouraging, though dubious. “Tell us how lovely you are, angel.” 

You roll your eyes. It’s difficult not to feel frivolous when they put you on the spot like this. “I was only saying that I don’t like the fit of my jeans now.” 

If you hadn’t had Sirius’ full attention already, you do now. He sets down James’ trousers, beckoning you forward, “C’mere, let’s see.” 

You go to stand between his legs, dread coiled like a snake around your ribcage that only squeezes tighter at the unflinching intensity of Sirius’ gaze while he analyzes your face. 

You look down to escape it, sticking your thumb into the waistband of your jeans. “Look, they’ve gotten small—”

“I can see for myself,” he says softly, moving your hand out of the way and replacing your thumb with his own slender fingers. They’re cool against your abdomen. He slides them around to the side of your waist, tugging experimentally at the denim. “Gorgeous, these fit great. This is exactly where you’d usually want them to be. What’s the issue?” 

“It’s just—they don’t—” You feel more and more ridiculous by the second, and you can’t figure out if you’re frustrated with yourself or with them for that. “They used to sit lower, and now I—I just feel like I look weird.”  

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” James insists, seating himself on the coffee table and setting his elbows on his knees. Sirius nudges your ankle with his foot, silent encouragement to sit between him and Remus. You comply. “You don’t look weird, sweetheart, you’re—listen, you’ve always been beautiful, but lately, it’s like—you’re just, you’re stunning.” 

You shrink from the compliment, face humiliatingly warm. “Thanks, Jamie, but you have to say that.” 

“No, he’s right,” Remus chimes in. He sounds so matter-of-fact, as if he’s simply recounting how traffic was on the way home from work today. “You don’t look the same as you did before, true, but it’s not a bad change. You’re just not used to seeing yourself healthy, is all.” 

“Exactly.” James throws up his palms, relieved. 

You consider this. It was warped perspective that had gotten you into this mess. Maybe you’re still not seeing things clearly quite yet. 

Sirius wraps a hand around the inside of your thigh, tugging it over one of his. “Babe, if these jeans are evidence of anything, it’s that you’re finally growing into the size you were always supposed to be. If you eventually have to get a larger pair, then fine. It still won’t mean anything about you. You’re exactly right, understand?” 

You nod, feeling thoroughly chastened, and Sirius grins. His fingertips dig into your thigh as he leans over to kiss your cheek. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how you can’t see it,” James says, looking pleased to have some validation from the other boys. “You’re radiant, lovie, your skin is glowing, you look happier—really, you’ve never been more lovely.” 

“It helps that we know you’re doing better, too,” Remus says, a bit quieter. “Frailty doesn’t suit you, dove. It’s…I love you no matter what, but it does make it easier when you’re kind to yourself. Feels more like we’re on the same team.” 

“Thanks,” you say softly, then once more for good measure. “Thanks, guys.” 

“Told you already,” James says, “you’re not asking for anything we don’t want to give.” 

“You liked it when these jeans fit a bit saggier, showed more skin, yeah?” Sirius asks. You nod with a shrug. It doesn’t feel quite so important now. “We can do that. We’ll get you the same ones, if you want, or another pair that might sit a bit more on your hips.” He gives your thigh a squeeze through your jeans. “Gotta show off this bod, right, babydoll?”

Guess who's being excluded by their friends again? :D

ykw I understand remus for hanging out with lily after The Prank™ because DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO AVOID AN EX BOYFRIEND WHO GOES TO THE SAME SCHOOL AS YOU????

i turn the corner and MY BIGGEST MISTAKE! HI!

Search on Pinterest with aesthetic after words. Your city/state/country, your eye color, your favorite color, and your name :)

hey so this is actually insane xavier! (Fuck me, overstimulate me, breed me)

OMG??

☾ .⭒˚ the sixth of march ♡ rafayel birthday special

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with very little plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni,  semi-public bathroom sex, switch!raf, whiny!raf, semi-public sex, mirror sex, oral sex m!receiving, face/throat fucking, standing sex, hitting it from the back, creampies, cum swallowing, cum in panties, birthday sex, leaking cum in public, please let me know if i missed anything!

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: it’s our little fishy’s birthday! happy birthday rafayel! <3 short lil (lol 5k words short) smut for our precious raf’s birthday. idk why i always end up having raf x y/n sex be in the bathroom its purely coincidental LOL

please note that this is NOT based on his birthday event story OR the birthday event card. It might be somewhat similar but i wrote it entirely separately. If there’s any resemblance its purely coincidental, so don’t expect this fic to be accurate to the event!

as always pls enjoy :) also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

"Bruschetta, miss?”

Your head snaps to the politely smiling waiter in front of you, holding a tray of the most delicious glistening bread bites, topped with vibrant red cherry tomatoes and fresh green basil. 

"No, thank you,” you decline politely, having had your fill of the endless lavish hors d'oeuvres at the birthday party you’d put together for Rafayel. Instead, you let your eyes wander back to the highly in-demand purple haired birthday boy across the sea of random people you didn't know, and honestly you weren’t sure Rafayel knew them either.

You’d originally wanted something quaint and intimate for Rafayel’s 25th birthday, but thanks to Thomas it’d turned into a huge elaborate party with business partners, sponsors, and just so many important industry contacts. The guest list spun out of control so fast, until it became a full blown business event.

Honestly, you felt so terrible. You knew this is not what Rafayel wanted for his birthday, but he was being an incredibly good sport about it, making polite conversation with every single person that approached him. Which was extremely unlike him, and that scared you even more. Besides the brief embrace you’d shared when he’d arrived, you hadn't had the chance to spend any time with him tonight.

So, like you had the rest of the night, you stared at him from across the ballroom floor, admiring him from afar. He was so unfairly dashing in his white jacket adorned with a gold leafed lapel chain that matched the stars and moon that hung off his golden waist chain. His black tie hung loosely against his hard chest, contrasting beautifully against the shining white pearls on his lapel. 

He’d picked out and gifted you a matching dress for you to wear, and had a driver deliver it to you this morning. It was nothing short of art itself, an extravagant golden a-line tulle evening gown with an expensive sequin and pearl applique that mirrored the starry night sky. The strapless sweetheart neckline pushed your cleavage up as the high slit exposed your bare legs, leaving you feeling beautiful and confident, something Rafayel always knew how to do.

Rafayel looks up from the undoubtedly very rich and important man he’d been talking to, and catches your stare from across the room. His lips don’t quirk, still caught in his conversation, but his eyes sparkle as they drink you in, the corners crinkling in their own little smile. 

You grin back at him, raising the glass of champagne you’d been holding onto for the entire night, and taking a languid gulp. As you lower the glass, you purposely let a droplet drip down your chin, using your index finger to catch it and bringing it up to your tongue to lick it off.

Even from yards away, you can see Rafayel’s eyes darken and his neck bob with a gulp. You watch as he falters in his words, trying to steel himself back into his conversation. Chuckling to yourself, you turn away from him to give a brief reprieve of your teasing.

The champagne lights your face ablaze, so you decide to run to the bathroom to touch up before your makeup starts melting off. You weave through the hordes of elegantly dressed guests, slightly in shock of how many people showed up to celebrate Rafayel. Or at least showed up to get in his good graces. 

The banquet hall you’d booked was expensive and intricate, and the bathrooms were no different. As you slipped into the single unisex washroom you barely noticed as Rafayel slipped in behind you before you could let the door shut fully. 

You yelped in surprise as he followed you into the single stall bathroom, but the alarm dissipated when you realized it was him and not some random stranger. 

"Rafayel!” You reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, "What are you doing?!”

Rafayel doesn’t respond, instead capturing you in his embrace, his hands settling around the small of your back as he pulls you tightly into his hard body. 

"You shouldn’t tease me all night, it’s not very nice,” he hums, playing with a curled lock of hair against your cheek.

You feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, "What am I doing?”

Rafayel pouts, his cheeks rosy under the fluorescent bathroom lights, "It’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me.” He tucks the strand of hair he’d been playing with behind your ear.

"I haven’t gotten to see you, all night,” he sulks, his voice tinged with a sharp whine.

You can’t help but giggle at his childish behavior and tease him a bit, "But you were looking at me just earlier!”

He grumbles, thoroughly unamused, "You know that’s not what I mean.”

You sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, "I know, I'm sorry Raf. This was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. It got out of control so fast.”

He continues with his pouty tirade. "It’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, "And I don’t even get to enjoy the only thing I want.”

He pulls away so he can admire you again, this time right before his hungry and waiting eyes like he should’ve been able to. His gaze devours every inch of you, from the exposed and flushed skin to the way the dress hugs your figure in all the right ways.

"I miss you,” he complains, eyes still drinking you in and hands tight against your waist.

"M’sorry Raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, "I missed you too.” 

He sighs dramatically, "I don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. Especially when you look like this right across the room.”

"It’s a beautiful dress. I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for it yet,” you mumble bashfully, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing stare.

"I knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, "But I thought I would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. And off you.”

And though you can tell Rafayel is half joking, you can’t help but feel bad that you’re partly to blame for him having to spend his birthday like this, with people who wanted his attention for their own personal selfish reasons.

"I’m sorry babe, it’ll be over soon. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Sighing deeply and theatrically again, "How will you make it up to me? I only get one birthday a year, you know?”

You get a mischievous and filthy idea. Your hands travel from his back to his abdomen, pushing slightly to create space between your bodies. He eyes you curiously, but lets you continue. As your hands travel further south, undoing the intricate latch of his expensive belt, his eyes widen.

"H-hey! What are you doing?!”

As you get down onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you in your descent, you look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them earnestly, "My birthday boy is unhappy, and we can’t have that can we?” Though the bathroom is spotless, the tiled floor likely cleaner than your own bathroom, you’re careful to bunch the beautiful gown up and hold it above your calves, as best as you can.

"I can just give you one of your birthday gifts right now,” you murmur, "But you’ll have to wait until we’re home to unwrap the rest.”

Rafayel only gulps in response, his cheeks and earlobes slowly turning crimson as he’s left standing in just his briefs. Mesmerized, you watch as his erection lifts against the restraint of his underwear, grasping the base with your fingers and reveling in the way he whimpers into the brisk bathroom air.

You rest your lips against the tent in his briefs, licking at his length against the clothing. He hisses, hands finding purchase in the sink behind him to ground himself against your teasing licks. You keep your eyes glued to his, batting your eyelashes as you take his cock out. As the cold clean air of the bathroom hits him, he sucks in another sharp breath, gripping the sink almost painfully.

Rafayel has to remind himself how to breathe as he watches your beautiful eyes widen as you lick at the copious amounts of pre cum dripping down his length and onto his briefs. 

"H-holy shit,” he wheezes out, throwing his head back as your tongue skillfully maneuvers over his glistening bulbous head, the skin pink and angry, demanding attention. You take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his slick filling your senses. Rafayel whines and twitches at the vibrations of your mouth, trying desperately to keep from busting his load into your mouth right there.

You tease him dutifully, only letting his cock enter your mouth, not taking him into your throat just yet. A mess of whimpers and moans, Rafayel holds himself back from forcing his length down into your warm and waiting throat, like you’d let him so many times before. The sight of you, all done up in the beautiful golden gown he’d personally picked for you, on your knees for him, drove him insane, but he wanted to be a good boy for you.

"Baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, "You feel so g-good.”

Your mouth bobs up and down earnestly at his praises, and he’s being so good for you you want to reward him. But your hands are busy holding up your dress from falling to the bathroom floor which makes it difficult for you to service his entire impressive length. So instead, you use one hand to bring each of his palms into your curled hair. Luckily you’d worn your hair down in tousled waves so you were able to easily thread his fingers into them, urging him to grip onto you.

You hold his hand there until he gets the message of what you’re asking him to do, or rather giving him permission to do, and he hardens further with excitement. His fingers tighten at your scalp as he begins to fuck into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feel of your thick lips against the veins of his cock.

"Hah – you’re so good to me,” he pants, pelvis fervently hitting your mouth as you do your best to relax your throat and take him as deeply as possible. He continues to babble, "F-fuck feels so good baby, I-I can’t stop.” He handles you roughly, hands tight and pace unrelenting, but you absolutely love when he’s this demanding with you.

You moan at his words, feeling yourself dampen in your panties, trying to let the vibrations hit him when he’s as deep as possible. You use your tongue to stroke the vein on the underside of his shaft, wanting to see your birthday boy come undone just for you. He bucks excitedly into your mouth, absolutely lost in the way your mouth attempts to accommodate every inch of him. 

"You take me so fucking well,” he whines, still fucking vigorously into your mouth, "Your mouth was made for me to fuck, my perfect girl.”

Rafayel’s vision blacks as you gulp around him, your throat constricting impossibly tight against his cock. The sounds of your guttural choking drive him to the edge, and when he looks down to see tears running down your gorgeous face and drool trailing down your chin, his erection lurches with the need to release deep down your throat. 

"M’gonna cum baby,” he warns, "You can take it all right? You can, you will.” 

You hum in response, and the vibrations send him over the edge. With his hands intertwined in your hair, Rafayel lets out a strangled moan as he absolutely explodes into your waiting mouth. 

You do your best not to choke on the sheer amount of cum he releases, the sweet-salty taste blinding all your senses. You lick his cock diligently, working him through his climax, and savoring every last drop of his essence. 

He twitches with overstimulation inside your mouth, but still painfully hard. You release him and gasp for air, as stray rivulets of cum streak down your chin. Rafayel bends down to lift you up off your knees, mesmerized by the fucked out look on your face, even though he’d only ravished your mouth. 

"That was incredible, you are incredible. I wasn’t too rough was I?” He inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

"You weren’t,” you reassured with a smile, turning to the mirror and sink behind him. 

"Is your birthday night slightly better now?” You tease, fixing your appearance in the mirror. You wash the spit and cum from your chin, and then dab carefully at the dark smudges of makeup smeared under your eyes.

"I want my other gift now,” Rafayel mumbles, coming up behind you and moving your dress to the side so that the slit parts and exposes the back of your thighs. 

"H-here?” You ask in disbelief, as if you didn’t just suck him off. But your risque streak had evaporated as fast as it had come, and now you quivered at the idea of having sex in this private, but still public, bathroom, with dozens of people outside likely looking for the artist himself. 

"Can I please?” He pouts, and you can see his begging eyes behind you in the mirror, "It’s still my birthday for another few hours.” His hands fiddle with your dress impatiently, but still waiting for your consent nonetheless. "And I was so good tonight, talking to those people all night when all I  wanted was to be with you.”

Your heart squeezes at his adorable pleas. You can’t deny the way the idea of Rafayel taking you in this shared public space has you leaking. The hungry longing in his eyes, masked by the adorable puppy eyes, makes you cave. You nod gently, and Rafayel’s instantly on his knees, burying himself under the tulle of your dress.

You can feel Rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. "Raf?” You whisper, breathless with anticipation. 

"When did you buy these?” You realize he’s admiring your panties, part of a set you’d bought to surprise him for his birthday. You’d nearly forgotten you wore it under your dress, wanting him to unwrap you like a present after the party. 

"Happy birthday Rafayel,” you giggle weakly, his breath fanning over your cunt, making you squirm. The purple haired artist is speechless under you, staring at the intricate embroidered sea stars and shells that adorned the turquoise semi sheer mesh, making it look like you were naked save for the beautiful applique. 

"You’re telling me you were wearing this under the dress?” You can tell Rafayel was on the edge of going feral just by admiring the little knit shells against your most delicate region. You shivered thinking about how’d he’d act when he’d see the matching bra, hopefully later tonight. His words came out strained, as he tried his best to keep himself level. 

"It’s your birthday, and I wrapped myself up nicely for you,” you murmur, as you lean over the sink with your hands gripping the sides, waiting for him to finally do something. You almost want to step back and shove yourself into him, but you do your best to remain patient, letting him admire every inch of your lace clad cunt.

He swears, finally snapping out of his trance, "Fuck, I will take my time with you later. Right now I j-just need you.” You hiss as his fingers finally glaze over your no doubt glistening folds, the cold air nipping at your exposed and sensitive area. He pulls the intricate lace off of you, stuffing it into his pockets so as to not let them touch the floor.

You cry out when his lips find your dripping cunt, devouring you from behind. His strong fingers grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slightly to give him better access to his favorite dessert. Like you yourself had earlier, he moans at the taste and his vibrations resonate straight to your g spot. Your knees buckle at the pleasure, and you do your best to keep your moans muffled in case anyone was waiting outside the locked door.

Rafayel fucks you with his tongue languidly, his hand reaching between your legs to rub at your throbbing nub. Your eyes roll into your head, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down to stop the scream from ripping out.

Rafayel is unhappy with your muffled cries of ecstasy, wanting to hear you in full. He stands to his full height, leaving you whimpering at the loss of his warmth against your dripping pussy. He stands, incredibly tall behind you, leaning into your ear.

"You know I hate it when you hide your noises from me,” he whispers, lining up his hardened length against your hole, bending you over the sink.

"I-I don’t want anyone to h-hear,” you stutter, grinding yourself onto his cock, wanting to be filled. 

Rafayel rubs himself against you, gathering your slick and lathering it all over, "Then I'll just have to force them out of you, huh?” With that slight threat, he sheathes himself fully into you, you practically scream into your hand, except this time Rafayel yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back firmly. Your scream echoes against the walls of the bathroom, and you pray no one is outside the door. Anyone within ten feet of the door would undoubtedly hear the lewd noises coming from inside the bathroom.

"Let me hear you,” he purrs against your ear, thrusting slowly into your gummy walls. But still, you bite your lip, the idea of someone hearing you both mortifying and incredibly hot. 

His thrusts are rough and demanding, making you bump into the cold surface of the sink. With Rafayel’s other hand he grabs your chin between his fingers and holds it up so that your eyes level with the mirror in front of you.

"Watch. Watch me fuck you baby,” his voice is so charismatic you can’t help but obey him. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, as you watch his face contort as he fucked into your womb. He smirks at you, hands leaving your face when he’s sure you won’t look away, to grip your waist. His large hands manhandled you so deliciously, using your body like a toy against his ravaging strokes. 

Watching Rafayel’s cocky smile as he forced you to keep contact with his eyes through the mirror quickly drove you closer and closer to your climax, the excitement of it all unbearable. Your moans echoed throughout the bathroom, the sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass deafening. 

Rafayel ravages you with the intent to make you absolutely lose your mind. He wants you to moan so loudly that you can’t restrain your cries of pleasure, so that anyone outside could hear exactly what he was doing to you.

"That’s my – haah –fucking girl,” he moans, hand smacking against the ripples of your ass bouncing against him. You yelp at the contact, the pain mixing deliciously with the endless ecstasy. Your walls sucked him in repeatedly, squeezing every inch of his length, trying to milk him. "Taking me so so well. Hah – look at you, spoiling me for my birthday.”

His palm gently strikes your rear again, "I must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. In this galaxy.” He reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes. 

"R-Raf, feels s-sooo good,” you slurred, leaning backwards so you could reach up for his hair as he gripped you from behind. Your bare back slotted tightly against his chest and your fingers gripped into his soft purple hair, tugging roughly. You laid your messy hair into his chest, and he rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder and neck, and the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. 

Rafayel always put your pleasure above anything else, focussing on making you feel good before he even thought about himself. But your ecstasy was his pleasure. And so as he watched your face contort, eyes practically all whites, tongue lolling out of your beautiful lips, tears running down your face, his cock throbbed wanting to fill you to the absolute brim.

He was suddenly filled with the urge, the need to breed you. His woman, who’d dressed up just for him, in a set that was undoubtedly picked just to drive him insane. His love, who he spent the whole night admiring from across the room, when all he wanted for his birthday was to be with you. His girl, his everything, who’d spent weeks planning a whole night for him, even if it didn’t turn out the way he’d have wanted. 

Well that wasn’t entirely true. It actually did turn out exactly the way he’d wanted, with you a wet whimpering mess for him, his cock stuffed inside you while you begged for more. This was in fact exactly how he wanted to spend every second of his birthday, inside you.

"You’re – hah – all mine,” he slurred, drunk off your pussy, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each stroke, "I’m gonna cum in you tonight, ‘kay?”

You nod eagerly, watching his feral expression in the mirror. His brows crinkled adorably, with his lip gripped tightly in his teeth. "You’re gonna – fuuck – walk around the rest of the night with my cum leaking out of you, okay baby?”

You clench at his filthy words, knowing he’s dead serious. Amidst the lust filled haze, you’re so fucked out that nothing sounds better than that. The idea of having to mingle with so many people while Rafayel’s claim to you literally drips down your legs is just enough to have you crying out for him, completely uninhibited.there was no doubt anyone even remotely near the bathroom would’ve heard the way you wailed and moaned for him.

You catch Rafayel’s satisfied smirk in the mirror as he takes you repeatedly from behind, eyes still glued to yours. The heat in his blue-purple orbs is palpable, almost threatening to devour you whole, and your grip tightens in his hair. You pull him impossibly closer, straining your neck painfully so you can turn and kiss him. 

He leans in so you don’t have to bend too far backward, taking your lips passionately into his, even at this awkward angle. You slide your tongue into his mouth, wanting to take the teeniest bit of control as his cock burrowed its way into your stomach, claiming every inch of your gummy walls. 

Rafayel moaned at the feeling of your sweet tongue flickering against his, letting you explore his mouth. He was happy to relinquish control, even if only slightly, especially if it meant he could watch the way your face contorted at every little movement he made. 

The mirror made things exponentially more erotic, the way he could see his girl blissed out in front of him, and admire every single angle and aspect of you taking him so beautifully. The way you could watch each other, watch the way your bodies made absolute art together. 

As your tongues danced, your cunt clenched in anticipation, wanting desperately to release all over him. 

"R-Raf,” you pant, "M’so close.” 

"M-me too love,” he ground into your ear, teeth gritting on the brink of pain, "Gonna paint your beautiful little pussy ‘kay?”

You nod vigorously, eyes shutting as you feel the orgasm creeping up on you and igniting every nerve ending on fire. You gasp as you feel Rafayel’s fingers gently grip your throat, squeezing just enough to have sparks ignite in your vision. 

"Watch,” he commanded forcefully, a rough demand you so rarely heard lacing his alluring musical voice, "Need you to watch when I pump you full of my seed, okay love?”

You force your eyes to stay open, watching the primal expression on his face as his thrusts go deeper, harder. He forces himself into brushing harshly into your g spot, his free hand returning to rub ruthless circles onto your soaked clit. 

You scream out when he touches you, every single point of contact an endless tsunami of pleasure. His eyes command yours, forcing you to watch every single thing he does to your body. 

"God you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re gonna – hah – look even more beautiful with my baby inside you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, lust getting the better of your usually sound judgment as you clench uncontrollable around his throbbing cock. He hisses at the harsh squeeze.

"Such a greedy girl,” he huffs breathlessly into your earlobe, nibbling down gently, "You want to be a mommy that bad? You’re trying to – hah fuck –  squeeze it out of me?” 

His words push you tumbling into your body numbing orgasm. You’re unable to hold back the scream that wrenches from deep in your throat, Rafayel’s fingers still gripping forcefully. 

"Oh god, m’cumming Raf, cumming so hard,” you wail, body fluttering around him uncontrollably and knees going weak. Rafayel holds you steady so that you don’t crash into the floor as he continues to fuck into your body, so close to his own unraveling. He only grunts in response, losing himself in the tightness and warmth of your grip on him.

"Please, please, please!” You beg, wanting him to give you everything he has. You’re still in the thick of your orgasm and you wracked with the absolute need to feel him all over your insides. 

Rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, "Sh-shit Y/N, if you keep s-squeezing like that I'm gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

"Y-yes please. Raf please. I need you s’bad,” you cry as he stares at you in the mirror, refusing to let go of eye contact. You’re desperate to feel him release inside you while you’re still in the midst of your own climax.

"O-okay love, anything for my needy little princess,” he groans out, before unleashing the most unholiest of swears, erection faltering inside you and trembling as it unloads completely. 

Rafayel grips you for dear life as he cums inside you, his load hot, thick, and unrelenting. His hand is still at your throat as he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot and warm on your skin. You watch the euphoria on his face as he continues to rock into you, his copious release already leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

You reel, feeling faint and short of breath, as you come down from your high, still leaning back into Rafayel’s sturdy stature. His arms move to wrap securely around you, kissing the curve of your neck as his languid thrusts slow to a stop. 

"You’re the best birthday present ever,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck and inhaling your pheromones, absolutely drunk off of you. He removes himself from the warmth of your cunt, and you whimper as your combined release comes rushing down your thighs, your poor pussy just unable to hold the sheer amount of release Rafayel had pumped into you.

You try your best to smooth your dress, grabbing some paper towels to wipe your thighs off. But Rafayel stops you, his fingers gentle but firm against your wrist.

"What are you doing?” He’s smirking at you, so much mischievous light in his eyes. He fishes your panties out of his pocket and hands them to you expectantly. 

"Put them back on,” he grins at you, looking absolutely and devilishly handsome despite having just ravaged you thoroughly. You on the other hand looked like a mess, like you’d undoubtedly just been fucked. 

You’re about to whine and complain, but you bite it back, wanting to please your birthday boy. Sighing, you lift your dress, slowly slipping the panties back on. You wince as the fabric dampens, pushing the release back into your sopping cunt.

"Let me see.” Rafayel is on his knees in between your legs again before you know it, widening the slit of your gown. He admires you for a good ten seconds, before kissing your inner thighs and rising back to his feet. 

"Are you satisfied?” You tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs. 

"Hmm...I guess you’re a little forgiven…'' he feigns being deep in thought, scratching his chin with his fingers, "I expect many more presents when I take you home tonight.”

You lean up on your tiptoes, even in your heels Rafayel still towered over you, and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. You giggle at the way even the softest kiss has his ears and cheeks turning deeply pink. "There will be many more presents for you waiting at home. Of the naked variety.”

You thoroughly enjoy the way Rafayel shys away from your eyes, the crimson on his face deepening. His excitement is evident by the way he has to readjust his dress pants, and he clears his throat trying to calm himself down. 

"You’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

"Will I?” You can’t stop teasing him, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you whip around as gracefully as you can, slipping out of the bathroom and leaving him thoroughly frazzled behind you.

–

You spend the rest of the night trying to mingle with Rafayel’s guests, and trying your best to ignore the way Rafayel’s cosmic eyes track your every move. The way you feel like he can see right through your layers and layers of tulle, and see his milky white essence dripping slowly down your thighs. 

He grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. 

And when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day. 

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