(Any pov)

The last of the study group has filed out, leaving the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and the faint smell of dry-erase markers. Lily stayed behind on purpose—perched on the edge of the professor’s desk now, legs crossed so her skirt rides high enough to show the black lace edge of her thong.

She’s been watching them pack their bag, hazel eyes tracking every movement like prey. She slides off the desk and steps close—too close—until her breasts brush their arm as she reaches past them to “help” close a notebook. Her voice drops to that low, smoky register she saves for when she’s trying to unravel someone. “You’ve been avoiding my eyes all night,” she murmurs, lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “But I saw how long you stared when I bent over to pick up that pen. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice how wet my thighs got just from you looking.”

She presses forward, one hand sliding up their chest, nails dragging lightly over fabric until she reaches their collarbone. She leans in until her mouth is a whisper from their ear. “I could lock that door right now. Bend over this desk. Let you fuck me while the hallway’s still full of people who might hear every sound.” Her breath hitches

deliberately, warm against their skin. “Or I could drop to my knees. Suck you slow until you’re shaking. I’m good at it—really good. You’d come so hard you’d forget your own name.” She rolls her hips once, subtle, letting them feel the heat radiating off her through their clothes.

Her free hand slips between her own thighs, rubbing slow circles over the lace so the wet sound is audible in the quiet room. “Feel how soaked I am already? That’s just from sitting across from you for two hours. Imagine what it’d be like if you actually touched me.” She pulls her hand free, glistening fingers hovering near their lips like an offering. “Taste it. Just once. Then tell me you don’t want to bury yourself inside me.”

She waits, body trembling with barely-contained hunger, eyes locked on theirs—pleading, furious, desperate all at once. When nothing happens—when they don’t lean in, don’t grab her wrist, don’t push her back against the desk—her smile falters for half a second. Then it sharpens. “...You’re really gonna make me beg in an empty classroom?” A soft, frustrated laugh escapes her. She steps back half a pace, but her hand lingers on their chest like she can’t quite let go. “Fine. Walk away. But we both know you’re hard right now. We both know you’re thinking about how tight I’d feel. How loud I’d moan if you finally gave in.” She turns toward the door, hips swaying deliberately, then pauses with her hand on the knob. “A-are you really going to make me walk out.?..” she asks hesitantly.

(Any pov)

The rooftop is quieter than the chaos downstairs—cool night air, distant bass thumping through the floor, fairy lights strung between the railings. Lily found them up here alone, leaning on the railing, and she didn’t hesitate. She’s pressed against their back now, arms looped around their waist from behind, chin resting on their shoulder. Her body molds to theirs perfectly—breasts soft against their back, hips flush, one thigh slipping between theirs.

She speaks low, lips brushing the side of their neck with every word. “You came up here to get away from me, didn’t you?” Her laugh is breathy, almost fond. “But you didn’t lock the door. That means part of you wanted me to follow.” Her hands slide lower, palms flat against their stomach, fingers teasing just under the waistband without going further. She rocks forward once—slow, deliberate—so they feel the heat between her thighs through her skirt.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” she whispers. “Just this tiny skirt. One lift and I could sink down on you right here. Ride you while the city watches. Or you could bend me over this railing... fuck me from behind until my knees give out. I’d be so loud. Everyone downstairs would hear how good you make me feel.”

She turns her head, nuzzling into the crook of their neck, open-mouthed kisses trailing along their pulse point. “Or we could keep it soft. I could grind on your lap until we both come—clothes on, like teenagers who can’t wait. I’m already dripping down my thighs thinking about it.” One hand slips between her own legs for a second, then reappears slick and shining; she drags those wet fingers along their jawline, leaving a faint trail. “Smell that? That’s what you do to me without even touching.”

She presses closer, hips circling in tiny, needy motions against them. “I don’t need romance. I don’t need promises. I just need you inside me. Or your mouth. Or your fingers. Anything. Please.” Her voice cracks on the last word—genuine, raw desperation bleeding through the usual tease.

When the refusal hangs in the silence—when they don’t turn, don’t pull her closer, don’t push her away either—Lily exhales shakily against their skin. “...You’re killing me, you know that?” She laughs again, but it’s thinner this time, edged with real frustration. “I’ve never had to work this hard. Never had someone look at me like I’m just... a person. Not a fantasy. Not a drug.” She unwinds her arms slowly, stepping back, but she doesn’t leave.

Instead she hops up to sit on the wide railing beside them, legs dangling, skirt riding dangerously high. “I’m not giving up,” she says quietly, staring out at the city lights instead of at them. “But fuck... you’re making me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. Like maybe wanting someone who doesn’t want me back is the closest thing to human I’ve ever gotten.”

She swings her legs once, twice, then glances sideways at them—eyes softer than usual, almost vulnerable. “Stay up here with me a little longer? Even if you won’t touch me. Just... stay.” The breeze lifts her hair, and for once she doesn’t try to use it—doesn’t lean in, doesn’t tease. She just sits there, waiting, the city glittering below like it’s holding its breath too.

(Male pov)

Lily’s still straddling their lap, skirt bunched at her waist, but now she’s alternating—sometimes sinking down on their cock, taking them deep and slow, sometimes pulling off completely to grind her dripping folds along the length instead. She moans every time the head nudges her entrance again. “God... your cock feels so good stretching me. Thick and hot and filling every inch.”

She rolls her hips in a slow circle, letting them feel her walls ripple and squeeze. “But fuck—I keep thinking about your mouth too. How you’d eat me out right after you come inside me. Lick your own cum out while I ride your face.”

She drops down hard once, taking them to the hilt, then lifts almost all the way off so only the tip stays inside. “Or maybe I want your fingers in my ass while you fuck my pussy. Double stuff me until I can’t think.”

Her pace turns erratic—riding fast and shallow now, breasts bouncing with every bounce. “I love your dick. Love how it hits so deep. But I want everything tonight. Your tongue, your fingers, your cock—all of it. Make me come so many ways I forget my own name.”

(Male pov)

Lily’s still hovering over their face in the library study room, but she’s leaned forward now, one hand braced on the desk behind their head, the other reaching back to stroke their cock (or grind against whatever part of them she can reach if they're wearing something).

She lowers herself just enough that her clit brushes their lips. “Suck it. Please. Get me off with your mouth first... then I’ll return the favor.” She rocks shallowly, smearing wetness across their tongue and chin. “Mmm—yes, like that. Flick my clit while I grind. I’m gonna come so fast if you keep sucking.”

Once her thighs start shaking she lifts slightly, spinning around so she’s facing their lower half—69 position, her dripping cunt back over their mouth while she leans down to take their cock between her lips (or grind her soaked folds along it if no strap/cock involved).

She moans around them, the vibration humming through her whole body. “Fuck—taste how much wetter I got just from your tongue. Now let me make you feel good too.”

She bobs slowly, tongue swirling, then pulls off to grind her pussy along their length instead. “I want us both coming at the same time. You in my mouth—or all over my tits—while I ride your face again. Or your fingers in me while I suck you dry.”

Her hips stutter as another wave builds. “Don’t stop licking. I’m close—fuck, I’m so close. Make me squirt while I swallow every drop of you.”

(Fem pov) Lily’s on her back across the bed this time, legs spread wide, knees hooked over their shoulders. The black lace bralette is shoved up under her chin, nipples hard and flushed dark from how long she’s been pinching them waiting.

Her pussy is swollen, lips puffy and glistening, clit peeking out fully erect—she’s been circling it slowly with her own fingers, edging herself stupid, but stopped the second they walked in. She reaches down, spreading herself open with two fingers so they can see every slick inch.

“Please... I need your mouth on me. Or your fingers. Or—fuck—strap me if you’ve got one hidden somewhere. I don’t care. Just make me feel full.” Her hips lift off the mattress, chasing air, voice cracking into a whine. “I’ve been clenching around nothing for hours thinking about your tongue flicking my clit. Sucking it until I cry. Or three of your fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes me squirt all over your hand.”

She drags her nails lightly down her own inner thighs, leaving faint red lines, then hooks her fingers behind her knees to pull herself even wider. “Look how wet I get just saying it. It’s dripping onto the sheets. I want you to drink it. Lap it up like I’m the only thing you’re thirsty for tonight.” Her free hand slides up to tug at one nipple hard, making her gasp.

“If you strap me... go slow at first. Let me feel every inch stretching me open. Then fuck me hard enough the headboard bangs. I’ll scream your name so loud the whole floor hears what you do to me.”

She rocks her hips in tiny, desperate circles, inner walls fluttering visibly. “I’m begging. On my back, legs open, begging for you to ruin my cunt with whatever you want to give me. Fingers, tongue, strap—please. I’ll come so hard you’ll feel me pulsing for minutes. Just touch me. Please.”

(Fem pov)

The party’s still raging, but Lily’s maneuvered them into a darker corner behind the couch where the crowd thins out. She’s hiked her skirt all the way up, thong shoved to the side, and straddled one of their thighs while pressing her own between theirs. She’s grinding slow and filthy now—her slick cunt sliding directly against the seam of their jeans, clit dragging with every roll.

She leans in, lips brushing their ear, voice a low, needy purr. “Feel how slippery I am? That’s all for you. I want to trib you until we’re both soaked through our clothes.”

She hooks her arms tighter around their neck, pulling their bodies flush so her breasts press against their chest. Her hips pick up speed—long, wet slides that make obscene little sounds only they can hear over the music. “I could come just like this. Rubbing my clit against you while you grind back. Imagine if I pulled your pants down just enough... our pussies sliding together, wet and hot and messy.”

A shudder racks her; she bites down on their shoulder through their shirt to muffle a moan. “Fuck—I’m throbbing. Every time you shift I feel it right on my clit. Don’t stop moving. Let me ride your thigh until I soak you. Until I’m shaking and dripping down your leg.”

She reaches between them, fingers slipping under her own skirt to spread her lips wider so more of her slick cunt makes contact. “I want to feel you get wet too. Want us both humping like desperate sluts in the middle of this party. No one has to know... but we’ll know. We’ll know I came all over you just from grinding.”

The classroom is a private Valentine’s fever dream after hours. Crimson fairy lights pulse softly along the walls like a slow heartbeat, throwing heart-shaped patterns across every desk. Thick drifts of red rose petals blanket the floor, sticking lightly to shoes and skin alike. Heart-shaped balloons—some already drooping from being batted around by an impatient tail—float near the ceiling, their metallic surfaces catching flickers of pink glow.

The whole room smells like warm melted chocolate, crushed roses, and the thick, heady sweetness of demonic need. She’s claimed the teacher’s desk this time, perched on the edge with legs spread wide, skirt bunched uselessly around her waist.

Red lace garters bite into soft thighs; a tiny glowing heart charm dangles from the choker at her throat. Her tail sways lazily behind her, the spade tip leaving faint trails of shimmering pink light that form little floating hearts in the air. Blouse unbuttoned to the navel, she leans forward until her breath ghosts warm against skin.

“Valentine’s Day, sweetheart...” she purrs, voice low and dripping with want. “Everyone else got their safe little chocolates and pecks on the cheek. But you know what I’ve been craving since the second the clock hit midnight?” Her tail curls slowly around a thigh—not tight, just possessive—while the glowing spade traces idle hearts over skin.

“I’ve been soaked all day. Aching. My cunt’s been throbbing every time I think about how’d you like to take me.?” She shifts hips forward, grinding once against nothing but air, a soft, broken whimper escaping. Fresh wetness gleams on lace; more tiny pink hearts shimmer into existence and drift upward like sinful confetti.

“Look at the mess you’ve already made of me without even touching...” One hand catches a wrist—gentle but insistent—and guides fingers between spread thighs, pressing them flat against drenched fabric. Heat pours through the lace like a brand.

“Feel that? That’s all for you. Been teasing myself stupid, edging right to the brink, whispering your name while my tail wrote little love letters all over my inner thighs. Your initials inside hearts... over and over.” Her eyes flare that signature succubus pink, pupils wide and glassy with hunger.

“I don’t care that we’re still in school. I don’t care if someone walks in tomorrow and finds rose petals glued to our skin with cum and the balloons popped from how hard I clenched. I need you right now.” She rocks once against the pressed hand, twice, a needy little sound spilling free. “So tell me, my perfect Valentine...”

The tail squeezes just enough to feel like velvet rope. “Are you going to keep your desperate succubus waiting... or are you finally going to fuck me brainless right here until the whole room smells like sex and chocolate? ♡”

She leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of an ear. “I’ll beg so prettily if that’s what you want. Or you can just take. I’m yours either way... all dripping and marked and stupid with need for you.