Love and Deepspace - Headcannons

🔞Spicytober 2025: 🐚Role Play🐚🔞

"How's this, Professor?" as you pull at the collar of Rafayel's black shirt dress, drawing him into a searing, sloppy kiss in his designated office. Your boyfriend obediently complies, already putty in your hands from how you devoured him with your eyes throughout his entire lecture.

And of course, the Lemurian not giving in to you that easily; he's a god, after all. No, he loves teasing you, daring you to offer you're everything to him.

"Oh? For a better grade, you need to put in more effort, my dear student." Rafayel purrs into your ear as he nibbles his way down and along the column of your throat. His breat hot on your skin. Elegant hands on your waist that trap you against his toned and well-dressed frame.

One of his knees sneaks its way between your legs, and you can't resist grinding at it, driven by greed and a desperate ache in your belly. The friction eliciting a sinful flutter in your lower core, melting you. An answer to the Sea Gods' luring call.

But you're also not ready to let him have his way yet.
He tortured you too much during his guest lecture, throwing heated gazes and calculated smiles all the time. You were forced to watch him walk, talk, and teach like a god-damn art piece, leaving your mouth watering and wanting him like never before. Oh no, your Lemurian is going to pay the price for baiting you into this little role play.

You giggle and pull down the zipper of the brown tweed pants that match his jacket. "Then I'm giving it all." And your hand sneaks into the cramped space, palming his already rock-hard length through the boxers, which elicits a delicious high-pitched whimper from the man at your whim.

Rafayel stumbles backwards, surprised by your sudden, bold attack. His legs bump against the desk's plate, a big part of the little office he was offered during his presence here at Skyhaven University.
And you push further, guiding him to lean back, to support his upper body with both his defined arms.
One of your hands is still cupped around his private parts, stroking and massaging the clothed hardness that you are aching to feel in its entirety. The other one rips the buttons off his fine shirt impatiently, startling even yourself.

But god, do you want him! Right now! Together with that light flush on his cheeks, adorned by these simple rim-free glasses he wore to protect his eyesight from fading again due to exhaustion. And that plain but slutty brown suit jacket he combined with a dark shirt that you try to get off of him. The former piece of upper clothing is long forgotten on the chair he had just sat seconds ago.

"Need your graduation so bad?" he dares to mock you, sensing your eagerness. Of course, he does. After all, he made you this feral, aching for him until your panties clung to your folds with how sticky they got during classes.

"Then show me," he hushes as he leans forward, whispering in your ear again, "or do you want me to teach you another lesson, my sweet darling?" The blue and pink in his eyes nearly vanished behind the blown-out dark pupils.

Oh, he enjoys this as much as you.

So you slip your hand in his pants beyond the last layer of fabric and search for that one spot you know will make him turn into a whimpering, squirming mess.
And your thumb is soon greeted by a soft tip, already leaking the excitement Rafayel tries to hide behind those teasing words.

You kiss your lover's neck, licking along the hard line of his throat, eliciting the sound you were waiting for.

A stuttering high moan, half whimper-half cry.

And the room vanishes in a flurry. You find yourself pressed down onto the desk, your breast squished to the writing cover placed there and a faint scent of dust and age tickling your nose.

"Not so fast, my little student." Scandalous words hushed to your neck, paired with a hot breath.
Your hands are captured at the lower back, an adamant hold keeping them where Rafayel wants.

The borrowed university uniform's skirt is shoved upwards, carelessly bunched around your hips. Clothes that you deliberately choose for today, knowing damn well what they look like and what impression you would leave on your boyfriend.

"Before you get your grades, be a good girl and sing for me. Let me hear what an eager student you are, yeah?"
And then you did. His demanding mouth on your moist folds, as he didn't bother to rip the underwear off, the destroyed piece was carelessly hidden in one of his trouser pockets.

His tongue goes straight to work, diving deep and relentlessly. You clench around slender fingers that show you no mercy. Wiggling impatiently against the darkened wood of the antic desk, and moaning his name helplessly into the dust-filled air of the usually unused office, not caring how soundproof these old and thick walls are.

A sensual and edging eternity later, you're only a whimpering, pleading mess, denied of your climax so often that your whole body trembles in desperate, primal need. Until you beg him for mercy in a breathy voice, pleading to finally make you come. "Please... Oh my god... Please..'

Feeling his wicked smile on your cunt more than you hear it "Oh, but wasn't it 'Professor' just minutes ago?
Did you already forget where you are, Cutie?«

In your aroused, mind-hazed state, the words require some seconds to be processed in your brain, whilst his fingers still tether you to the edge of your orgasm.
"— hah...yel" you whimper, gathering some remaining brain cells to fulfill his demand "please, Professor Rafayel..."

Then, only then will your relentless tutor grant you the best grade, when his hard cock finally sheathes itself deep into your dripping hungry core as Rafayel rolls his hips in your warm wet walls from behind.

And you're no longer singing, you're screaming. Crying prayers of pleasure and desire. Praising your professor and God in all the ways he demands with every thrust that slams you against wood and wisdom.

"Yes, oh fuuu..." Rafayel accompanies you in your ecstasy, completing the scandalous lecture with his own unraveling. "That's the assignment I want to bury myself in..."

The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room with the screeching of wood on stone and both your noises of pleasure and primal need. But nothing is heard outside the old, usually unused office, the sophisticated walls swallowing everything. And the sinful secrets that threaten to find their way underneath the old wooden portal door are lost in the noise of daily life rumbling in the busy hallways.

Nobody is aware of the special lesson that is taught in these sacred walls, as your professor teaches you how to get the best grade from him, and him alone.