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aeyumicore · 1 year ago

Text

your fragrance

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.4k (how?????)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, switch!raf (like he’s both sub and dom in this, if you don’t like that then this may not be for you), knee humping, standing sex, against the wall sex, sorta rough sex, references to rafayel’s lore (no more than what’s talked about the actual memory), dry humping, slightly aphrodisiac sex, dub con if you squint really really really hard, ejaculating in pants, panty ripping, pheromone kink, lots of teasing (calling raf a cat/kitty), cum play? kinda, nipple teasing, slight use of y/n, reader is mc, second person pov

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: the raf fic is here!! based off the 5* rafayel memory ‘your fragrance.’ the build up is realllllllly long on this one since i wanted to stay as true to the memory as possible. you can def just skip to the smut if you’d like!

i struggled to write raf a lot but enjoyed it so much like he’s so fun to write. i’m def a sub girly so i love writing dom partners, thankfully i hc raf as a switch. if you do not like fics where raf is a switch, then this may not be for you!

i can’t believe this fic ended up being 10k words too, i was thinking it would be a quick lil smut lol. i don’t even know how my zayne fic ended up being my shortest fic. enjoy my loves!

also this is dedicated to my bestie who is actually rafayel’s number one slut. follow her on x @/myusuchaa for so much good raf and other purple haired boy content. she is the master of rafayel lore, truly his wifey. a queen to us all.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

You let out an exasperated sigh as your foot taps irritably against the protective painting tarp Rafayel always has laid out on the ground of his makeshift art studio, stray paint brushes strewn about. Impatiently, you waited for Rafayel to finish changing on the couch behind you, careful not to peek.

Somehow, being Rafayel’s bodyguard also made you his keeper. And Rafayel was not easy to keep. Always dragging you with him on odd trips even if you had work, pestering you at all hours of the day and night, disappearing and unable to be contacted for days on end. This particular time it was the latter; Rafayel had gone mia three days before his important collab launch party with a high end perfume brand. Now, on the night of the party, Rafayel was still unable to be reached.

Thomas had called you, in a sheer panic, as he always did when he needed help wrangling Rafayel. He knew you were the only one in this world that could level with Rafayel. And he’d never told you this before, but you were also the only one who could bend Rafayel’s unbreakable stubbornness; a perfect match for the purple-haired obstinate artist. And thus, Thomas had personally designated you as Rafayel’s keeper.

And so, you found yourself at Rafayel’s massive house, in the most extravagant evening dress you owned, hauling him off to his own damn party.

His annoyingly alluring voice cuts into the silence of the studio, "You can turn around now and give me a hand with something else.” You snap around to be met with the sight of Rafayel, irritatingly and devilishly handsome in his expensive white dress shirt and designer cardigan, leaning lazily against the sofa with the tie you’d previously used to tie his hands with, woven in between his fingers. He grins and holds it up to you expectantly, "Put this on for me.”

"Don’t you have hands?” You snap, but your feet have a mind of their own, and you’re already approaching him on the sofa.

"My hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long.” You roll your eyes, knowing he’s being dramatic. While he waits deceptively patiently for you to give in, he leisurely takes a wristwatch out of his pocket to put on, as if he’s got all the time in the world. "Clock’s ticking, keep it up and we’ll be late at this rate.”

You gape at him. The sheer audacity of this man, as if you’re the reason he’d be late. He only smirks at you, and it just infuriates you all the more. How he could so easily annoy the hell out of you and look so beautiful doing it. But you keep your mouth shut, and exasperatedly lean down to put on his tie for him, doing your best not to strangle him with it. It feels strangely intimate, and the brief reprieve finally gives you an opportunity to speak to him.

"Thomas said you have to be present for all parts of the event. There will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and…” you rattle off, before you realize Rafayel is being uncharacteristically silent, "Are you even listening?”

You look up from the tie in your fingers to glance at Rafayel’s face. He doesn’t look the least bit interested in your words, instead his eyes are fixated on your wrist. You tap his chest to get his attention but he remains still, eyes still on your hands atop his collarbones. You curiously wave your hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his trance. Fortunately you do, but unfortunately Rafayel grabs your wrist suddenly and urgently.

“...what’s the matter?” The bewilderment is unmistakable in your voice. You’re used to Rafayel’s erratic and quirky behavior, but this was alarming, even to you.

Finally his gaze breaks away from your wrist and he speaks, "I heard you talking about the event…” but just as quickly as you’d diverted his attention, it's back on your wrist. His voice is unusually clouded, deeper than usual. His eyes are back on your wrist that’s enclosed in his fingers, as a strange expression crosses his face. It almost feels as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but you’re unsure from what.

"Your hand…” he trails off, inexplicable emotions caught in his hoarse voice. He suddenly tugs you towards him by your wrist, and you stumble forward.

"Rafayel?! Wait!” As you fall forward, your feet run out of space and hit the bottom of the sofa, causing you to tumble on top of him. He catches you easily, sitting you on top of his lap while he brings your captured wrist right up to the side of his face. The awkward position forces you to settle your legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him against the designer couch. The half knotted tie comes undone and you’re left clutching the smooth material in your hands. If it weren’t for the compromising position you found you and Rafayel in, you'd be slightly disappointed at seeing your hard work unraveled.

The grip on your wrist tightens impossibly, almost possessively, "Hold still.” His command is not totally unusual; Rafayel is always demanding things of you, his precious bodyguard. But his voice comes out in a strange and sensual husk, leaving you confused, nervous, and weirdly burning. His silky smooth dress pants shuffle under you, and you’re reminded of the expensive clothes you’re pressed up against, likely worth more than a month of your hunter salary.

"Your suit! It’ll get wrinkled.”

"I don’t care…let me smell this…” he trails off, his voice sounding impossibly far away. You can feel the tickle of his inhale against your wrist and it makes you shiver, goosebumps forming under his touch.

"What is that?” He asks, mostly to himself, lost in his own little world, "It smells good. And smells familiar…”

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Rafayel to be mysterious and even enigmatic, but this was a whole other level of confusion for you, "What…what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

His behavior is starting to worry you. He’s unusually breathless, and you can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The last thing you needed was him getting sick! You could already hear his needy whines in your head at the mere thought. Demanding to be taken care of and waited on. You almost want to smile at the thought of it; you act constantly annoyed with Rafayel but deep down you know you can’t live without his antics.

"No, I'm fine. Very well, in fact,” but despite his words, Rafayel sounds anything but. His voice, normally a bright and charming, albeit annoying, timbre, is now a hoarse and needy rasp. His ticklish touch on the inside of your wrist reminds you of where you got the perfume that he was so intoxicated by.

"Come to think of it...I tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibition hall. It was made with special ingredients,” you scratch your chin with your free hand, trying your best to recall the name of it.

"Perfume? You spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?”

You glance at him, concern and confusion written all over your face. Isn’t that what you do with perfumes? Rafayel shifts his gaze to your eyes, but his breath remains on the inside of your wrist. It’s deafeningly silent and you realize the scent of the perfume gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises at the proximity of your body to Rafayel’s. You’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re sitting on his lap, and his face is so very close to your own.

He’s still lost in his own thoughts as he murmurs, more to himself than you, "It’s a bit bitter like fermented plants…but very fragrant.”

"It could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. Now, unhand me please,” you’re desperate to detach yourself from him, unsure if you can trust your body when it’s pressed so readily upon Rafayel’s own hard and sturdy stature.

"No.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity. But before you can berate him, he’s reaching his free hand to undo the buttons of his collar, as if the clothing is restricting him and making it hard to breath. His purple eyes are glazed over, and a beautiful faint blush paints his cheeks. His exposed collar and chest have you biting back your words, completely losing your train of thought. You squirm at the sight, but Rafayel’s hand on your thighs grip you in place, not letting you move a single inch.

"I could’ve sworn I've smelled this fragrance before,” he presses your hand against his cheek as he continues to slowly inhale the scent by the mouthful. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question, the unreleased scent had been developed for his artworks for the collaboration, so it’s very likely he could’ve sampled it during production.

"We can worry about it later. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting” you urge, feeling yourself blush as he shifts slightly under you, brushing against your sensitive inner thighs. You pull your hand away from his cheek, only for Rafayel to yank it back, like a child unwilling to share his favorite toy.

"Let me smell it again,” his demand is meant to be gentle, but comes out rough and urgent. You sigh, letting him melt into your hand again. It’s almost endearing; you quite like being so intimate with Rafayel.

"You know, for someone who hates cats, you sure are acting like one,” you tease, "A kitty that found some catnip to be exact.

The mere mention of cats is usually enough to set Rafayel off, pouting like a little baby that’s been teased. But instead, he just distractedly responds, "So then are you a cat? I am not a cat. And also, you’re not allowed to say that. I just couldn’t resist…”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his adorableness, tempted to just give in to his touch, savoring every moment you possibly can before the bubble bursts.

"What is this weird perfume…” he’s talking to himself again, inspecting your hand carefully. His jumbled thoughts have you worried for him again. Although Rafayel did often have energy that bordered on adhd, this was much more intense than that.

"Are you alright?” You repeat, softly. He doesn’t respond, but leans his cheek into your touch, his lips turning so they’re practically kissing your palm. Like this, he inhales the scent with his parted lips. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, almost feverishly. His hand reaches to further loosen his collared shirt, pulling it open to let the cool air soothe his burning skin.

"It must be an allergic reaction. This isn’t perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…” his words both confuse and scare you. You’re growing increasingly worried about his flushed and sweaty complexion, his collarbones shining under the faint glow of the city lights through the massive windows. His words fill you with a terror you do not understand.

Rafayel holds the area between the bridge of his nose and his forehead, like his head is pounding, before returning to grip the collar of his dress shirt. His hand that holds yours is shaky as he rocks slowly underneath you, inhaling as much of the perfume as he can. His lap brushes against yours and your brain short circuits at the feeling of him pressed against you.

"H-huh?” Is the only thing you’re capable of getting out.

"Who gave you the perfume? Who sent it?” His questions are increasingly alarming you, but you do your best to keep calm. You can tell he’s nervous as well, and the sight makes your chest squeeze. Wanting to comfort him, you cup his cheek in your palm and he leans into the touch so contentedly and groaning in satisfaction. Truly like a cat.

You blushed despite yourself. It was so difficult to not be aroused in this compromising position. You’d long since had a crush on Rafayel, always craving his silly antics and theatrics. Missing him intensely when he’d disappear for days at a time.

"No one. Um, why do you look like you’re drunk?” You try to deflect from the burning between your thighs, hoping he can’t notice how hot and bothered you’ve become.

"I’m not drunk. I just don’t like the scent,” he pouts, but nuzzles your hand against his cheek like a cat getting cheek scratches. He turns his lips back into your palm, opening his mouth until you can feel his teeth graze your skin. He groans as he continues to inhale the scent, making you bite back a moan of your own at his gentle nibbles.

"Rafayel…you…” but you find yourself at a loss for words as he continues to breathe in your scent like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. Your own breaths start to come out in shallow pants, and you squirm in his lap. Rafayel moans softly into your palm, biting down gently to get you to stop.

"Are you trying to run away again?” He asks, almost painfully, his eyes piercing into yours, so intense and searching. The glassy look in them reminds you of how much you’re worried about his current well being.

"Rafayel, you don’t look so good. Shouldnt you go to the doctor?” You use the hand Rafayel isn’t gripping to take his face between your free fingers and inspect his beautiful and flushed features.

Rafayel’s breath hitches at your touch, goose flesh littering the skin where your touch singes, "I’m not going anywhere.” And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel what’s left unsaid.

And neither are you.

But he continues, dazed, "You’re gonna lock me up again…you’re with them. I just know it. Don’t think I'm unaware of what you’re about to do.” He has both your wrists in his hands now, gripping them on either side of his neck. "Y/n, I won’t fall for it again. Not this time.”

Though his words scare the shit out of you, you’re unable to concentrate on anything but his eyes that are trained on your neck, where your pulse thrums erratically in anticipation. You’re suddenly hyper aware that your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him anymore, despite his face being mere inches from yours. Your breath is close enough to mingle with his. It seems he notices too, because he inhales deeply and throws his head back, gasping.

It's then you realize it's not just the scent of the perfume that's setting Rafayel off, but your own scent mingled with it.

"Rafayel, snap out of it!” You beg. But Rafayel can’t seem to hear you as his cold hand grips the side of your neck, where you’d also dabbed the perfume along. Your breath catches in your throat at the icy touch, unsure of what to do.

Rafayel senses your hesitation, "Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” His voice is a throaty groan, and you’re honestly unsure if that’s even what you want. His body is almost on top of yours now, his breath deafening in your ear. And all you can think about is how you’d wish he’d press into you harder, until you’re suffocating, only able to breathe him in.

But you go with your better judgment, pushing him gently, putting some distance between the two of you. He glances up from your neck, eyes unfocused, and says nothing. He finds himself staring at your lips that are parted slightly to let out the short pants of breath you’re wheezing out. He leans in slowly so he can breathe in as much of you as he possibly can, just nearly closing the proximity between your lips.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your little bubble with Rafayel, "Its Thomas! He probably wants to remind us of the time. Let's head out!” You shove your phone until Rafayel’s hands, forcing him to take Thomas’s call for you.

While he’s distracted, you slip out from beneath him and bolt to the nearest bathroom. As you move your legs, you’re made acutely aware of the slick that has formed in your panties. But you focus first on furiously washing off the scent from your wrists and neck. As you scrub, you glance up at the mirror in front of you. You swear at the site of yourself, unbelievably disheveled and undeniably aroused.

As you continue to adamantly scrub, you can faintly make out Rafayel on the phone with Thomas, just outside.

"No, we’re not going to make it. I need to take care of something urgent. Don’t call again please, bye.” When you turn off the faucet, you go to lean against the wall adjacent to the sink, trying to steady yourself and collect your thoughts. You turn around and gently rest your forehead against the wall, sighing into the cool surface against your burning skin, willing the arousal between your legs to go away. You try to remind yourself of poor Thomas all alone at the exhibition right now. Your guilt is short lived as you hear the patter of Rafayel’s feet approaching the bathroom.

"Where are you going?” Rafayel’s words are right behind you, and his hand presses against the bathroom wall that your forehead rests on. You whip around and find yourself trapped between Rafayel’s hard body and the solid wall behind you. You back up instinctively, but find yourself hitting the cold surface before you even take a single step back.

"Gotcha,” Rafayel smirks softly, and you tremble at his proximity to you. His other hand grips a towel bar to your left, while his other hand leans against the wall to your right, so you’re utterly trapped against him. He’s so close, close enough that you can feel his rapid breaths fanning across your parted lips. As Rafayel’s eyes roam all over you, from your lips to your heaving chest, you feel very much like a lamb caught in a lion’s den. Except you don’t want to escape.

"Rafayel…” you murmur using both your hands to gently push against his chest, unintentionally brushing against the exposed skin below his collar, under his unbuttoned dress shirt. You’re hoping he’ll have mercy and release you, afraid that the palpable sexual tension in the air would cloud your, and Rafayel’s, judgment.

He shivers as your wet hands brush against his chest, knuckles turning white as they grip the towel bar next to you. His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving up and down, with a light sheen of sweat painting his pale skin. The sight snaps you out of the moment, reminding you that Rafayel seems like he might have a fever.

"Let’s go to the hospital...I’m worried about you,” your hands shift to grip his open shirt, bringing the fabric together to cover him up. Rafayel’s hand releases the towel bar to take both of your hands into his, trapping them against his chest.

"What will it take for you to believe that I'm okay? I’m exactly where I want to be,” his gruff voice invades all your senses while his eyes burn holes through your own. He presses himself further into you, until his forearm is resting against the wall above you, only your joined hands pressed against his chest separating the two of you. He leans down, his face now impossibly close to yours, and for a second you find yourself lost in his purple and blue cosmic eyes.

You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself to reality, and remind yourself that Rafayel’s actions are only fueled by the strange effects the perfume has on him. He’s not in his right mind, and you need to think for him.

You whisper, craning your neck up to look into his eyes, "You’re not yourself right now. Let me help you, I can take you to the doctor.”

Rafayel leans down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in, the smell of the perfume, still potent despite the scrubbing, mixed with your pheromones invading his very being. Slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, he lifts his head away from you. He releases your hands and uses that same hand that gripped them to lift your chin towards him.

"Do you know the only thing you could do that would help me?” His hooded eyes lock yours in. His voice is the soft purr you know and love, slightly tinged with a rough and carnal desire that shakes you to your core.

"Name it. I’ll do it for you.“ part of you knows that Rafayel isn’t going to ask you for anything regarding his health but you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. You’re stepping into very dangerous territory and you can’t hold yourself back.

"Kiss me,” his voice is low, but the assertive demand in it is undeniable. His command makes you shift in between his legs against the wall, becoming hyper aware of how deeply your bodies pressed into each other. You know you want to, you’ve wanted to for some time now. But you can’t shake the idea that the strange effects of the perfume are clouding Rafayel’s judgment and inhibitions.

"R-Rafayel…” you stutter hesitantly. Trembling ever so slightly, you lean in to peck his flushed cheek. You watch, slightly amused, as Rafayel’s ears get even pinker.

"Why must you always make me beg?” He whines. His lips stick out in a signature Rafayel pout, one you’ve grown to absolutely adore, no matter how annoying it can be.

You can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your chin still in his grip, "I don’t make you. You just love to beg.“

With your face still in his grip, he sighs dramatically, "Then I won’t beg anymore.” He brings his face to yours and captures your lips with his. He swallows your surprised squeak, which is quickly replaced by a throaty moan of longing and anticipation. Rafayel absolutely devours your noises, his lips so commanding against your own, bending them to his every will. They’re so soft, and you can’t help but think they fit so perfectly slotted against your own.

Though you can taste the urgency on him, Rafayel takes his time with you, engraving the taste and feel of you in his mind forever. He takes it so tortuously and deliciously slow that you find yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, begging him to take you fully.

You can just feel his maddening smirk against your lips. Instead of indulging you, Rafayel laces his practiced fingers under your dress’s skirt and onto your thighs. Only when you yelp in surprise does he finally slip his tongue into your mouth, always intentionally doing things to take you by surprise.

The new sensation of your tongues on each other seems to have Rafayel equally feral, because you feel the unmistakable press of his erection into your stomach. Needing to do something with your hands, you trace the outlines of his chest muscles, enjoying the feel of them finally against your fingers.

Rafayel’s hands venture to your back, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress, and then your bra. Gasping into his open mouth as his fingers return to the pebbling skin of your nipples. He gives a harsh flick to each, and your knees buckle against the sensitivity. You sink down against the wall, lips still attached to his for dear life, but Rafayel shifts so that he catches you with his knee instead. The mid length black dress your wore rides up and serves as a sheer layer of protection between your dampening panties and his knee. The friction of his leg against your crotch is unbearable, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

Your reaction only serves to spur Rafayel further, as he begins to knead his knee into your cunt slowly. Your body turns to mush at the ecstasy of his knee against your most sensitive region, but Rafayel holds you steady with his hands gripping you from the swell of your underboobs.

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales again. Unbeknownst to you, he practically comes undone at the smell of you alone, "You say I'm always whining but look at you.”

You whimper at his teasing words right against your ear, clutching the back of his neck for support as he continues to hump his knee into you.

Suddenly, Rafayel stops, letting his knee still against your increasingly damp cunt. You can’t help but whine as you look up into his amused eyes. There’s mischief in them as he grins, "I’m getting tired. You’re going to have to do the work.”

Despite your lust clouded brain, you can still think coherently enough to see through his brattiness. You narrow your eyes at him, "You’re tired? Let me take you to the hospital. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” You duck down to escape his arms that cage you in, but he only lowers them so that they now trap you at the waist instead.

"You’re so mean to me Y/N,” he huffs, "Can’t you tell how vulnerable I am right now?”

"Because of the perfume? Why does it affect you so much?” You murmur, squeezing his cheeks slightly.

From Rafayel’s expression you can tell he’s unwilling to share too much information. And as annoying as that was, you trusted him wholeheartedly and knew better than to prod him too much. You would take what you could get.

He rests his head on your shoulder, unwilling to meet your stare. Dusting your hair behind your ear, he sniffs you again, practically consuming the scent. You shiver at the slight breeze he creates at your exposed neck, "I-It’s not just the perfume. I’ve dealt with this scent before, and I've developed a tolerance to it.”

You hold his neck against your shoulder, and gently knead his damp skin, letting him inhale the smell like his life depended on it, "Then why?”

Rafayel sighs, releasing the wall behind you but instead trapping you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. You sigh in satisfaction as his erection presses warmly against you again, your pussy craving his touch

Finally he speaks, but his voice is low and almost feels dangerous, "The marine plant the perfume is extracted from…on its own no longer does anything to me. But when it’s exposed to another scent that I cannot control myself around…the reaction it causes can be extremely potent.”

The sensations of his body pressed tightly against yours makes your brain practically non-functional, so you’re not following his train of thought, so you ask dumbly, "Like the air?”

You can practically hear Rafayel rolling his eyes in his voice, "I need air to survive but do you think I can’t control myself at all times of the day?”

"Okay well I'm confused! And to be fair you do act like an idiot at all times of the day so how am I supposed to know?!” He ignores you, taking another lungfull of the scent on your skin into his body. This time, he growls through an intense shiver, his grip on your body tightening against him. As if the very smell of your skin drove him into a lust filled craze.

And that’s when you realize what he meant.

"O-oh,” is all you can squeak out. Strangely enough, the idea that your scent is what is driving Rafayel to madness makes you leak further into the puddle that had formed in your panties.

Rafayel groans again, one his fists releasing your body to gently pound into the wall behind you, "I-I can smell the arousal in your scent. It’s driving me insane.”

Knowing he can smell the dampness between your thighs is both utterly embarrassing and completely erotic. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing but to take his discomfort away and make him feel good, "H-how can I help you?”

Reluctantly, he removes his chin off your shoulder and turns to face you, gripping your biceps in his hands, almost to the point of pain, "Do you mean that? Because you can’t take it back.”

Shivering at the implications of his words, you nod slowly but more sure than ever, "Yes. Let me help you. I want to help you”

"I-If you want to help me…” Rafayel’s voice is doubtful, like he’s scared you will deny him before he’s even gotten the chance to put his request out. Between your thighs, you feel his knee creeping its way back against your leaking cunt. The shock to your recovering clit causes you to clutch Rafayel’s firm shoulders and throw your head back with a breathy moan. Rafayel feeds off your pleasure, imagining what you would sound like when you were actually stuffed to the brim with him.

"I want...I need to see you cum all over me,” Rafayels throaty plea makes you blush profusely. You almost want to smack him across the head for his shameless words, but the pout on his face reminds you that he’s absolutely serious that this will help him. That seeing you come undone for him will help take the edge off of the effect the perfume is having on him.

"O-okay.” You gulp, nodding. The relief on his face is mixed with unbridled excitement that makes you squirm in anticipation of what's to come. Your feet shift, which causes you to grind down on his knee once more. Unable to withstand the unintentional teasing any further, you languidly moan and grind your leaking cunt against him to relieve some of the pulsing tension in your gut.

Your broken groans grace Rafayel’s ears and you can actually see his eyes light up with pleasure while his ears burn an even deeper red. His breath is shaky as he dips his head back down, inhaling deeply and dusting a kiss to the pulse point on your neck. You shiver as he gently uses his tongue against your neck to soothe his raging desire.

His reaction intrigues you, and you can’t help but want to tease him further, just a little. Peering at him through your eyelashes, you tip toe upwards so you can fan your bated breath across his face, letting him bask in your scent. Your tongue reaches out to gently swipe across his bottom lip, all the while you continue to pleasure yourself using his thigh.

Rafayel is unable to contain his excitement as he watches you use his body for your own gratification. He pants desperately into the crook of your neck, high off your pheromones invading all his senses. Through both your whiny moans, you reach out to graze his cock through his dress pants.

Rafayel hisses at the slightest contact, and his reaction ignites your confidence, provoking you further. You grip him through the silky smooth trousers, holding his throbbing erection in your hand, using your thumb to tease where you think his slit would be.

"Fuck–hah, be gentle please baby. M’sensitive,” he whines through gritted teeth. Your cunt clenches at his words, so teasing yet so endearing from Rafayel’s lips. You can feel the coil in your gut tightening as you continue to hump into Rafayel’s knee, using his body to chase your own high. Your black dress has ridden up, and now the only barrier between Rafayel’s knee and your sopping pussy is your equally soaked panties. You bite your lip and pray that Rafayel doesn’t notice the moist streaks that are starting to appear on his expensive pants.

Through your hooded eyes, you can see Rafayel is enjoying this just as much, if not more, than you are. His eyes are thick with lust, and you can practically see the pulse of his neck pound against his delicate skin. He desperately gasps for air, or maybe he’s trying to breathe more of you in, as you near your earth shattering climax.

"Touch yourself for me,” you purr at him, purposely jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. He obliges obediently, one hand quickly undoing his belt and slipping in to grab his unbelievably hard cock into his hands.

As you watch his face contort in pleasure, you’re filled with the need to grab him into your own hands. "Can I touch you too?” You ask innocently with wide eyes, imagining just how smooth he will feel in your bare hands.

Rafayel whines, still obediently pumping his cock in his hands, "Yes please, I need you to touch me.” At his plea, you let your hands find their way to his hands, still diligently pumping up and down. You wrap your smaller hand over his and mimic his motions. You gasp at the sheer size of him, your fingers just barely able to wrap around his girth. You can feel his veins throbbing against your fingers, begging you to continue further. The sheer amount of pre cum that already coats his fingers, and now yours, makes you wonder how delicious his spend would feel inside you instead.

"You’re so dam beautiful when you – fuck – use me like this. Dreamed about this for s’long,” he bites out, his hands finding your nipples once more. His long artist fingers tease you expertly, taking the peaks and rolling them gently.

His skilled hands and filthy words accelerate the intensity of your body’s peak quickly approaching you. His entire body is flushed and burns under the pumps of your fist, likely exacerbated by the effects of your scent. You respond to his endless stream of gasps and swears with breathless mewls of your own, whispering sweet words into his ear.

"Let me cum Rafayel, please. Want to cum for you s’bad,” you beg against him, despite him having given you all the power already, knowing the begging will drive him insane.

Rafayel drives his knee further into you as your core grinds into him like second nature. Your wrists vigorously pump his leaking cock, the thick heat of it feeling absolutely unreal against your palm. With your free hand you thread your fingers through his long soft hair, gripping gently. With a strangled groan Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck, sucking at your pulse point as if he’s trying to devour your scent. Reluctantly he pulls away, throwing his head back in pure pleasure once more.

"F-fuck you drive me fucking crazy Y/N,” he pants, his thick length throbbing at your vigorous pumps along his shaft, almost as if his heart was beating inside it. The endless precum that falls from the tip coats your fingers, making a wet mess in Rafayel’s pants and your palm.

He groans in disappointment when you release his erection, but his eyes are trained on your every movement. Overcome with your aching need for the gorgeous purple haired man before you, you bring your soaked fingers to your lips and slowly insert your index and middle finger into your parted mouth. You make a show of letting your tongue lap up his essence from your digits, never letting your eyes break contact with his as you devour him off your fingers. You can’t help but let out a muffled moan at the taste of him, sweeter than you could have ever fathomed, so deliciously Rafayel.

He nearly hyperventilates as you peer at him through the tears of pleasure that had beaded onto your eyelashes. "Look at you, hah, like a fucking masterpiece,” his thumb caresses your lip as his breathless praises make you squirm against his knee. The pre cum on his thumb swipes onto your tongue, and you itch to taste him again. You shift yourself so that you can take his thumb into your mouth, using your tongue to swipe all the slick off his slender fingers.

Rafayel shivers at your touch, his mind a mush of lust and adoration as he watches your eyes roll back at the taste of his cum on your lips.

"You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, drunk off your pheromones invading his senses. You only smile at him and tip toe up to press your lips against his, wanting him to be able to taste himself on your tongue. He groans into your mouth at the odd sensation of being able to taste both himself and you all at once. Both his hands come up to thread in your hair, pulling you as deeply into him as he possibly can. You can feel his exposed chest against your own, his heart pounding rapidly against the swell of your dress covered breasts. The proximity lets him control every twitch of his quads against your cunt and you cry into his mouth at the stimulation.

As you continue to fuck yourself onto his knee, you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, nearly blinded by the ecstasy of his leg wedged between your thighs and the salty taste of his slick on your tongue, "Raf-Rafayel, m’gonna cum.”

Despite his furious blush, he smirks at you, as devilishly handsome as ever, "You gonna cum on my knee baby?”

If it weren’t for the cloud of pleasure fogging your every nerve you’d surely have a snarky retort to throw back at him, but the need to have him is so great you can’t think of a single thing. Without even needing to enter you, Rafayel has rendered you utterly fucked out.

So instead, you nod eagerly as your grinding against his knee becomes increasingly sloppy and erratic. Rafayel, entranced by the utterly fucked bliss in your eyes can’t stop himself from falling deeper into the abyss that is you: your voice, your eyes, your smell, your soul. He finds himself realizing that, though he’s seen millions of dollars in once in a lifetime artworks, even creating some of his own to add to this infinite world, the entire universe pales in comparison to you. The thick haze of emotions overwhelms him and he finds himself begging, once again.

"P-please cum for me, my love. I need to see it,” Rafayel begs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. The sensation makes your entire body shiver, causing your cunt to quiver further into his soaked knee. You’re not used to his voice, normally teasing and bratty voice, being this needy and adoring. It’s all enough to shove you viciously into your orgasm. You cling onto Rafayel as you release all over your panties and his leg, still languidly grinding into you.

You can’t stop the screams that rip out of your mouth, pure ecstasy and satisfaction laced into your very breath. Rafayel holds you tightly against him, cooing into your ear, talking you through the waves of pleasure, as the excruciating ecstasy makes tears spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks.

Rafayel eyes widen in pure awe as he watches every shiver and twitch of your orgasm against his leg. He throws his head back, swearing as your scent becomes exponentially more potent. The smell of your spend is thick in the air, mixing with your pheromones and the perfume until it overloads every nerve in his body. The throbbing in his cock grows unbearable even with nothing touching it, physically twitching uncontrollably as he explodes inside his slacks.

You cry out one last time when your thighs collapse from the intense climax, and Rafayel catches you by your waist, holding you steady against him and the wall behind you. The movements against your cunt slow as you ride out the final waves of your orgasm. With nothing separating his thigh from your cunt but your soaked panties, Rafayel can swear he feels your clit throb against him, the aftershocks of your climax wracking your body, just as the effects of his own orgasm sear through his.

You’re a panting and sobbing mess against his flushed chest. Your legs are completely useless, supported solely by Rafayel’s strong and safe arms around your waist and his knee still wedged between you. He rests his face in the mess of your hair, breathing you into him. Unbeknownst to you, Rafayel is reeling from his own climax as he holds you protectively against him, almost for dear life.

Through the comfortable silence that has blanketed the bathroom, Rafayel’s voice vibrates on the top of your head, "You smell so fucking good baby.”

You smile contentedly against Rafayel’s chest, your hands reaching up to smooth his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead, "Do you feel better?”

He smiles against your head, taking another deep breath of you into him. His voice is thick with satisfaction, but also unrelenting hunger, "Yes, but…” you wait for him to finish his thought, but there’s only silence.

"Rafayel?”

His reply comes out strangled and heavy against the top of your head, "I-I need more. I need you.”

You shift so you can look up at him. He doesn’t speak, but his hooded eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. Maybe it’s the post orgasm haze, but you find yourself being unable to deny Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to please him.

Getting on your toes so you can reach him, you let your bottom lip brush against his, relishing in the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, "Take me Rafayel.”

"Sh-shit,” he mumbles and presses his lips the rest of the short distance into yours. He tears into you with such torrid intensity that your knees buckle. As his palms hold your face in place, you cling onto his shoulders for support, the feeling of him enveloping you so overwhelmingly addicting. As your legs give out under the excruciating anticipation of what’s to come, you hook your knee into Rafayel’s waist. He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his back. His hand kneads into your bare skin as he reluctantly tears his lips from yours.

"You can’t stand anymore?” His cocky grin contrasts the deep blush on his cheeks. Before you can snap back at him, he hoists you up against the wall. Instinctively you yelp, wrapping your other leg against his waist as he holds you securely against the cool tiles behind you and his solid abdomen.

His lips simultaneously find yours again, locking deeply with an unrelenting passion that quite literally takes your breath away. As your breath becomes his, your thighs clench at the crushing intensity of his lips, wanting him deeper, harder. His tongue explores every inch of you, and you whimper into him at the pure need that was manifesting in your gut once more.

Feverishly, Rafayel breaks away, like he cannot possibly wait another second. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he balances your squirming body with one hand, his other hand reaching down to pull off his belt that he’d undone earlier.

You want to ask Rafayel if it’d be more comfortable to go to his bed or even the studio sofa, but you’re rendered speechless as he pulls his cock out of his slacks. You’d felt it in your hands earlier, but seeing it in all its glory under the light was a whole different story.

Rafayel definitely took pride in how he presented himself, his hair, his clothes; everything about him was pristine and curated just how he wanted others to see him. And his manhood was no different. He stood absolutely proud against his naval, his impressive length erect enough to touch just below his belly button, curving straight up. He’s unsurprisinglt well groomed, but with a dusting of pubic hair along his happy trail to his glorious cock. Like Rafayel himself, it was nothing short of art.

But then you noticed that he has trails of white cream smeared all over his delicious length, matted into the hair along his pelvis. Far too much to be just pre cum.

"D-did you cum earlier?” You can’t stop the grin that forms on your face as you realize Rafayel had finished earlier just watching you pleasure yourself against him. Literally came undone at the mere thought and sight of your pleasure.

Rafayel averts his eyes, hiding under his tousled bangs, his face tomato red, "Sh-shut up!” His reaction only makes you laugh and want to provoke him more.

"You’re such a bad boy Rafayel, cumming without me touching you,” you coo, using one hand to scratch his hair soothingly, "Just an eager little kitty for me.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow as his lips form his signature pouty grimace, "I am not a cat.”

You open your mouth to tease him more, but Rafayel pushes you harder into the wall so he can free one hand to rub his thumb against your lips. You yelp at the feel of the stone cold wall being pressed further into your burning skin. With his finger on your mouth, his eyebrow raise at you pointedly. His eyes light up with an intense and burning warning, "I’m about to fucking ravage you. Are you sure you want to keep teasing me?”

His words shut you up instantly. You shake your head vehemently and obediently, your cunt aching at his promises, needing nothing more than to be filled with him.

"Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand moving off your lips to reach under your dress, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties. You shiver at the feel of his palm on your waist, as he attempts to pull them off of you. But he quickly grows impatiently frustrated at the tangle of your bodies.

"I'll buy you another pair, ‘kay?” You’re about to protest but Rafayel wastes absolutely no time, bunching the delicate material in his fist and tearing it off you. You gape as the sound of fabric ripping sounds in the air and watch the lace material fall to the ground.

"R-Rafayel! I liked that pair!” You scold, hitting his shoulder in a mixture of disbelief but also arousal at his primal urge. You know you should be more upset but you find yourself just melting into a puddle at his unabashed behavior. I mean honestly you wore those in hopes that he might see them anyways.

"I'll buy you as many as you want, if you let me rip them off of you,” he grins in feigned apologeticness. At your expression he continues, this time earnestly, "M’sorry, just can’t wait anymore.” And with those words, Rafayel sheaths himself into you. You yelp at the alarming stretch, his girth much more than you’re used to. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, it’s slightly painful to accommodate him.

Simultaneously, Rafayel cries out huskily as he enters you, your grip down there absolutely strangling his erection. The finish of your first climax thickly coats his cock, but it’s just barely enough to offset the stretch from how thick he is. His strong arms hold you securely in place as his pelvis slowly begins thrusting up into you, pushing you up the wall at every stroke.

The angle he has you in meant every single thrust hits your cervix, his cock unbelievably lengthy. The curvature causes every stroke to drag deliciously against your g spot which makes you cream uncontrollably at each thrust, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock that splashes into you with every vigorous stroke. Your clit rubs roughly against his pelvis, his coarse happy trail rubbing against it with every movement, stimulating your body beyond belief.

"Fuck you’re taking me so well baby,” Rafayel moans into your ear, swallowing another mouthful of your aroma. You whimper as you feel him getting unbelievably harder at your scent alone, his solid flesh brushing against every single corner of your gummy walls. His veins throb inside of you as he twitches in pleasure. "So fucking tight, all for me yeah?”

"Raf, s’big. Feel s’good,” you slur, the haze of ecstasy starting to cloud your consciousness. His thrusts go harder, deeper, at your praises, and you cry out, unable to stop your thighs, and simultaneously your cunt, from tightening around him.

A strangled moan leaves his lips at your movements, his damp forehead pressing against yours as one of his hands leave your thighs to grip the wall next to you. "Sh-shit are you always this tight or is this jus’ for me?”

Before you can respond, Rafayel is babbling huskily into your ear again, "Wish you could see yourself right now. You look so beautiful, so fucked out, all for me huh?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at his filthy words, and you can’t help but clench down on him again. Your profuse arousal coats the hair along his pelvis, creating the most filthy and lewd noises as Rafayel continues to bounce you onto his cock, his stamina absolutely unreal. Your lips chant his name, over and over, your brain only filled with him.

"Look at me Y/N, need to see you,” Rafayel begs into your neck, still absolutely inhaling your pheromones, getting harder at every intake, "Jesus you smell so fucking good.”

You force your eyes open, fighting the ecstasy from taking over completely. As he shifts to stare into your eyes, he gives you the most gorgeous Rafayel smile that threatens to short circuit your brain and stop your heart. There’s an overwhelming swirl of emotions in his purple-blue eyes: lust, mischief, adoration, respect, longing, and…so much love.

It’s all enough to make you want to confess the feelings you yourself had forced deep down, trying desperately to forget them for the sake of your friendship and working relationship. Rafayel keeps staring into your eyes, straight into your soul, and you finally open your mouth to try and find the words, "I–”

But instead, he cuts you off, bending down so your lips brush against each other again, "I know.” With those words, he presses himself needily into your waiting mouth

Grateful that he doesn’t need you to say the words, you return his kiss with equal fervor, doing your best to convey all the things you had wanted to say.

The bruisingly passionate kiss pushes you towards the edge as Rafayel continues to bounce you ruthlessly onto his cock. You’re forced to pull away from his lips to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Through the overwhelming ecstasy, Rafayel takes the opportunity to shove his hand in between your bodies, easily finding your clit. The stimulation forces you to scream out uncontrollably, your eyes and head rolling back into the wall.

"Jesus look at how soaked you are Y/N,” he mumbles in awe, eyes glued to where your bodies connected, "Look, baby.”

At his urging, you force yourself to lift your head off the wall and glance down at his fervent ministrations. The sight you’re met is enough to make you finish all over him right then and there.

The veins in Rafayel’s thick forearm bulge as he paws at your clit furiously, the slick glistening on his thick length and splatters as the force of his thrusts rattle you deliciously against the cold wall. As he pulls out of you entirely with each thrust, you can see the throb of each vein of his cock, aching to be thrust back inside you.

"Raf-Rafayel,” you gasp out, "I–”

"I-I know baby, I can feel it. Squeezing the life out of me,” he groans, shifting your entire weight onto his right arm while his left forearm slams into the wall above your head, anchoring him and allowing him to fuck into you with a new mind numbing intensity.

His chin digs into your shoulder as he hammers into you relentlessly, "Ffuuck baby, gonna make me cum all – shit – over you huh?”

The force of the orgasm that chases you is utterly blinding, and against your better judgment you plead with him, "P-please cum inside Raf, I want to feel you.”

You can feel his panting breath hitch by your ear, and he whispers, "Are you sure? Don’t tease me Y/N. Y-you can’t take it back. Please.”

"Won’t take it b-back,” you wail as his thrusts bruise your walls, the painful pleasure edging you closer and closer to your undoing. "Please Rafayel, need you inside me s’badly.”

At your begging, Rafayel goes absolutely insane. He slams you so vigorously against the wall that you can practically feel the entire house shake. Every throbbing thrust pushes against your more sensitive spots, bullying right into your cervix. His breath becomes increasingly erratic and he sinks his teeth into your neck to contain his throaty moans.

The sudden sensation of his teeth against your pulse, so dangerously aggressive yet gently teasing, sends you barreling into your orgasm. "Cumming, cumming, m’cumming Raf,” you wail repeatedly, unable to form any other words as tears stream down your face and onto his ruined dress shirt.

Your hand roughly tears at Rafayel’s hair as he continues to ravage both your clit and your aching hole, finally sending your body into the mind numbing explosion of your climax. Your cunt grips onto him for dear life, throbbing uncontrollably to the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts. You ride the endless waves of your orgasm, vision blurring as tears continue to spill from your eyes.

"Raf, s’too much,” you whimper, fingers releasing his hair and reaching down to scratch at his back, trying to relieve any of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to make you lose consciousness. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were destroying Rafayel’s expensive shirt under your nails. Your legs tighten around his waist as he continues to pound you into the wall. You’re almost sure your body will be battered and bruise tomorrow, not that you’d complain.

"M’sorry,” he pants, but only thrusts harder and faster, "Jus’ hold onto me love. M’so – ffuuck – so fucking close.” You nod obediently, still riding the last receeding waves of your own orgasm, pussy quivering around every ridge and vein on his shaft.

"Jesus if you could feel how tight you’re squeezing me right now,” Rafayel grits through clenched teeth, "You want me to cum inside you that bad? That you’re gonna force it out of me?”

Your lids feel so heavy as the pleasure of your orgasm ebbs into exhausted satisfaction, and you murmur, "M’not doing anything Raf, you jus’ feel so good. So deep.”

At your praises, Rafayel lets out a strangled groan and comes undone inside of you. You cry out as the warmth of his spend fills you, soothing the ache from the ravaging your poor cunt just took. He shoots rope after rope of it into you, a never ending stream of him emptying inside of you.

Rafayel rests his forehead against yours, his forearm still using the wall above your head to support him. You both pant into each other as the quivering of your cunt squeezes every last drop of him inside you. He shivers at the feeling of your womanhood throbbing around his softening member, completely spent.

Rafayel does his best to keep himself, and you, upright. His arms shake slightly, the aftershocks of his own orgasm devastating every muscle in his body. You can feel his biceps trembling, you fight to keep your eyes open, "S’okay Raf I can stand.”

"Okay love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking in one last whiff of your scent, before pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. You whimper as he slips out of you, your sore hole still wanting nothing more to be filled by Rafayel. You do your best to ignore the thick streaks of your collective spend dripping down your legs. As you unhook your thighs and let your feet touch the floor, your body gives out.

Rafayel catches you before your knees can crash into the tiled bathroom floor. You don’t have to look at his face to know he’s smirking at you.

"Need me to carry you baby?”

As you hold yourself up clutching his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, "No. Shut up.”

Rafayel chuckles, the smile in his eyes glowing brightly at you, "Come on Y/N, let me take care of you.”

Your snappy refusal is cut off by your squeal as Rafayel scoops you into his arms, like a princess. You wince at the feeling of the smearing of dampness between your thighs as Rafayel hooks his arms under your thighs. You hadn't even noticed that he’d put his belt back on.

"Always with the theatrics Rafayel,” you grin, unable to stop yourself from burying your face into his chest. He smiles in response as he carries you through his home. You breathe in Rafayel’s scent, an intoxicating blend of sea salt, cardamom, and arousal.

"You love me.”

You sigh to yourself, love him you absolutely did. But that was a conversation you two would need to have another day.

Looking up, you find yourself in Rafayel’s room, his white curtains billowing as the night time breeze cascades through them. As Rafayel sets you down on his plush king sized bed, your phone rings from the inside of his pocket. You’d almost forgotten you’d given him your phone when Thomas had called earlier.

The phone keeps ringing as Rafayel sits besides where you lay, attention focused solely on you. You pat his thigh, "Raf? Can you pick up my phone?”

Rafayel grimaces as he grabs your cell phone from his slack pockets. "It’s just Thomas,” he grumbles like a child, "I told him not to call again.”

He takes one look at your unamused expression and sighs in defeat, "Fine fine.”

Rafayel picks up the phone, snapping, "What Thomas?”

"Speaker phone,” you mouth at him, only able to hear Thomas’s erratic mumbles through the phone. He rolls his eyes, but puts the call on speaker, holding it up between you two.

"You guys better be half dead in a ditch or actually dead,” he threatens sulkily, "How could you guys not show up?”

"Didn’t I say not to call again?” Rafayel fires back, but his tone is teasing. You know Rafayel cares about Thomas a lot, even if he makes the agent’s life hell.

"Thomas, I'm so sorry! I’ll make it up to you I swear,” you apologize, feeling horribly guilty. You could only imagine how many angry sponsors and reporters he had to deal with.

As Rafayel holds the phone with one hand for you to speak into, he notices your black dress had ridden up to reveal glistening streaks pooling down your legs. He uses the index finger of his free hand to scoop up the spend that continues to drip down your thighs. Your breath hitches as he smirks at you, his hand creeping up further, into your inner thigh.

"You owe me so many dinners,” Thomas grumbles, but you have a difficult time paying attention to the rest of his words as Rafayel’s hands venture further up, dangerously. You give him a warning look, but his fingers only trail up further to tease you, grazing against your bare slit.

"Are you guys even listening to me?” Thomas demands through the phone, his tone is as pouty as Rafayel normally is.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry,” you try to keep your voice as steady as possible, "I'll uh, I'll get you take out tomorrow!” You swat at Rafayel’s lingering hands but he doesn’t budge. His ears are pink and you notice his breaths are coming out in short pants as he quietly climbs onto the bed at your feet. You do your best to keep your own moans from bursting uncontrollably out of your lips as his fingers relentlessly tease you.

"Yes, and I want boba too. With extra – wait. What are you guys doing?” Rafayel and your eyes snap to each other and then to the phone. You’re about to speak when Thomas’s shrill voice cuts in again.

"You guys better not be doing what I think you’re doing! I swear to g–”

“‘Kay gotta go bye bye Thomas love you!” Rafayel interrupts sheepishly, ending the call with his thumb. There’s a brief moment of disbelief and silence before you both burst out into laughter.

You clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath as the uncontrollable giggles keep coming. But the thought of Thomas makes you feel guilty again, "Rafayel maybe we can still make it to the party if we hurry. We can’t just leave Thomas –”

Rafayel shushes you with his finger, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans over you, "I just got an idea for a painting and I have to start right now.”

You’re no stranger to Rafayel’s spontaneous bouts of inspiration. In the past, he’d literally drag you to the oceanside and not ten minutes into the excursion, he’d race home needing to get started on an idea he had right then and there. And sometimes he’d forget you at the beach.

"Right now? But we’re not in the studio,” you squirm as Rafayel leans closer to your face, shifting his body so that he’s kneeling at your feet, in between your legs.

"Oh. I meant a different kind of painting. Maybe on your stomach,” your brows furrow in confusion at his words as he smirks mischievously at you. You squeak as he climbs to hover over you, his body pressed against your still sensitive areas. Your body heats up again as the feel of his hardening cock against you.

His thumb presses against your bottom lip, the salty taste of him invading your senses once more, "Or maybe…on your beautiful face.”

The implications of his words finally hits you all at once, and your face burns like a wildfire. You hit his shoulder weakly and unconvincingly, already succumbing to the arousal pooling back in your thighs as you watch the desperate need return to his eyes.

"R-Rafayel!”

"Then again you’re already a piece of art,” he murmurs, his voice groggy with desire. He presses a kiss to your parted lips, then to your exposed collarbone, and then to your covered breasts, "But you know me. I like to take my time with my art.” Oh you were utterly fucked.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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etherealyoungk · 4 months ago

Text

crush on you | choi seungcheol

SUMMARY: in which seungcheol is completely smitten by you and will do anything to hangout with you, even if it means eating spicy food.

PAIRING: seungcheol x reader

THEMES: acquaintances, friends to lovers

WARNINGS: flirting, fluff, just seungcheol being down bad for you.

WORDCOUNT: 2593

A/N: i just love seungcheol so much <3

the warm aroma of freshly ground coffee fills the air as you work behind the counter, expertly crafting yet another latte. seungcheol casually leans over the counter, his gaze fixed on you.

"are you free later after work?" he asks, his voice light. he seemed more interested in your response than in the coffee you were preparing.

you glance up, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "don’t you have better things to do? you’re always hanging out here. seriously, i’ll have to kick you out if you don’t order anything, it's store policy, sorry", you say, not bothering to look at him.

seungcheol chuckles softly, unfazed by your mock threat. "please, i know you secretly love having me around," he says with a grin that could rival the sun for brightness.

you snort, shaking your head as you continue to steam milk and fill cups, preparing orders. "yeah right, you’re a pain in the ass actually, go hang out somewhere else", you tell, which only makes him chuckle more.

it had become something of a routine—seungcheol dropping by the café, engaging in playful bickering, and sometimes even dragging out his visits just to be around you, but you enjoyed it. you enjoyed his company even though you sometimes didn't want to admit it.

you’d known seungcheol for almost a year now, having met him through your mutual friend, and as fate would have it, he also went to the same university as you, which meant you crossed paths with him more often than not.

"why?", you ask after a moment, looking up again, meeting his big, brown, sparkling eyes.

"just asking, i thought we could grab a bite to eat later, doesn't smelling all this make coffee and pastries all evening make you hungry?", he asks. you pause, a sigh escaping your lips as you consider his offer. because he was right. the only downfall of working in a cafe was the constant smell of pastries and cakes wafting in the air and it always made you so hungry.

"i guess we could, i don't have anything planned", you admit and seungcheol's face seems to light up at your response "great", he says.

seungcheol waits until you finish your shift and now you're both walking down the road, the evening slowly turning into night.

"what do you wanna eat?", he asks, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockes as he glances over at you.

you tilt your head to the side, thinking. "tteokbokki", you say slowly. "i want to eat tteokbokki", you say. so, that's how you both end up at at a small restaurant - the one you always went to when you craved tteokbokki. you order the food and you're waiting, and seungcheol kindly pours some water in a glass, placing it in front of you.

"you haven't eaten here before have you? this place really has the best tteokbokki in the area. i've tried all the tteokbokki in this area and this place really makes it the best!", you explain.

seungcheol's smile softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. it was clear he was more amused by your enthusiasm than anything else. "you’re talking like you're a tteokbokki expert," he teases.

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest in mock offence. "of course i am. who do you take me for?", you say making him smile wider, his dimple peeking out and your heart does a little flip at the sight.

the food arrives and the rich, spicy red sauce glistens. the scent of the perfectly cooked rice cakes mixed with the spicy sauce makes your mouth water. your eyes light up with anticipation and you can't wait. you grab a piece and pop it into your mouth, only to wince as the heat catches you off guard.

"ahhh, it's hot!" you exclaim, fanning your mouth dramatically.

seungcheol is quick to react, handing you the cup of water. you take a grateful gulp of water, trying to cool your burning mouth. "slow down, the food isn't going anywhere", he says and you nod.

"aren't you eating?", you ask after a moment, as you take another rice cake, blowing on it this time before putting it in your mouth. you watch as seungcheol picks up a tteokbokki and carefully takes a bite out of it, chewing carefully.

"what do you think? it's good right?", you ask, leaning forward slightly and he nods. "yeah, it's good", he says, putting the rest of the rice cake in his mouth and chewing, before taking a sip of water, trying to hide his nervousness as he picks up another piece of tteokbokki. he had never told you, but spicy food wasn’t exactly his forte. you notice his discomfort and look at him with concern. “is it too spicy?”, you ask.

"no, it's fine, it's really good", he says immediately, taking another bite as he looks at you. though he was struggling to keep up with the heat, he didn't want to admit it to you, not right now. so instead, he took slow measured bites, each one followed by a quick sip of water and despite the heat, seungcheol kept eating, determined.

he really didn't know when he came like this - eating spicy tteokbokki even though he couldn't handle spicy food. but ever since he met you, he started doing things he would never do before. before he met you, his mornings were a blur of snoozed alarms and missed classes. but now, he woke up early with a smile, eager to get to campus. the reason? you. seeing you in class and catching your eyes across the lecture hall or seeing you on campus, that made every early morning worth it. and then there were the café shifts. he’d become a regular, only because it meant he could spend time with you. and now, eating spicy tteokbokki even though his mouth was on fire right now - all because he had a crush on you.

after eating, you both walk to the bus stop, the cool night air refreshing as you walk. "gosh i'm so full, that tteokbokki always hits the spot when i'm craving spicy food", you say.

as you reach the bus stop and the bus pulls up and he turns to you with a serious yet caring expression. “text me when you get home, okay?”

you laugh softly and give him a playful nudge. “so overprotective,” you tease, stepping onto the bus. you glance back and wave at him with a grin, your heart feeling warm from the simple, sweet gesture.

when you're waking back home, you happen to run into seungkwan, your friend whom you met seungcheol through. "seungkwan!", you call out and he lifts his head up, looking at you.

"yn! what are you doing here?", he asks. "i'm on my way home", you say. "i was just about to head somewhere for dinner, do you wanna join me?", he asks.

"oh, i actually just ate some tteokbokki not to long ago", you say and he nods. "the usual spot", he asks and you nod. "yeah, that's the best place. i took seungcheol there today, he had some too", you add.

seungkwan's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "seungcheol?" he repeats as if he needed to be sure he’d heard you right.

"yeah, i'm pretty stuffed actually, i ended up eating most of it, but seungcheol did eat some of it", you say and seungkwan seems to have a realisation and laughs softly to himself. "seungcheol ate the spicy tteokbokki?" he asks again, disbelief in his tone.

you nod puzzled. "yeah, why?"

a smirk spreads across seungkwan’s face. "wow, there’s something wrong with him. he can’t handle spicy food at all, and you’re telling me he willingly went to eat spicy tteokbokki with you?", seungkwan asks, baffled.

you furrow your brows, taken aback by this new information. "he can’t handle spicy food?"

seungkwan laughs softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "yep, he’s a bit of a wimp when it comes to spice. his stomach is definitely not going to forgive him for that, poor guy".

"well, i guess i’ll see you around. get home safe," seungkwan adds after a moment, offering you a wave before heading off.

you are left alone, you mind going over he new revelation about seungcheol. he couldn't handle spicy food? if that was true, why had he agreed to eat tteokbokki with you? why hadn’t he mentioned anything? why didn't he tell you?

the next week when you see seungcheol, he's his usual bright self, smiling when he sees you and following you around and once again, hanging out at the cafe with you. he's sitting right up at front at the first table near the counter, his eyes fixed on you as he watches you make more coffee orders. he looks at you with almost a lovesick gaze, like he can't get enough of you.

"seungcheol", you finally speak once the rush seems to slow down and you are winding down, your shift coming to an end.

"yes?", he says, standing up and leaning against the counter again, waiting for you to continue.

"wanna grab some tteokbokki again?", you ask. "sure", he agrees.

so that's how you're sitting at your usual tteokbokki spot again with seungcheol. the tteokbokki arrives and you both eat and seungcheol eats some too, though he doesn't show any signs that it is too spicy for him. but after what seungkwan said, you know better.

you both are walking back after eating and you glance at seungcheol. "are you okay?", you ask and he looks at you. "yeah, why?", he asks.

"wasn't the tteokbokki too spicy for you?", you ask again and he shakes his head, denying it. "no, it was really good, just right", he says. and that's when you can't take it anymore. you stop in your tracks, seungcheol stopping a few steps ahead of you before he turns around.

"why'd you stop?", he asks, coming closer. you look up at him and do the only thing that seems to come to your mind - you smack his arm, hard.

"OWW", he exclaims, clutching his arm as he looks at you, utterly confused and also worried. "what was that for?", he asks, rubbing his arm as he continues to look at you.

"that's for lying to me", you tell and seungcheol furrows his brows. "seungkwan told me everything, i know you can't handle spicy food, but yet you were eating that deathly spicy tteokbokki for me? you're such an idiot", you say, digging into your bag and pulling out a bottle of banana milk.

"here, this might help ease your stomach a bit", you add quietly, shoving it in his hands before you continue walking, leaving seungcheol behind. he looks down at the banana milk you had handed him, then back up at you. he catches up to you, falling in step next to you. he really doesn't know what to say.

"are you mad?", he asks softly and you glance at him. "i'm mad because you put yourself through that and you didn't even tell me. you could have just told me you can't eat spicy food", you say, your expression softening a bit.

"i just wanted to experience it with you", he says, hoping he could redeem himself. "i thought it would be worth it, just to see you smile", he says.

you look at him, and the sincerity in his eyes stirs something in your chest. there'sna moment of silence as you process his words and the evening seemed to pause, the hustle of the city fading into the background. seungcheol shifts nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the edges of his sleeve as he tried to think about how to navigate this tender moment. his eyes, usually so confident, now held a vulnerable gleam.

“i guess i was trying to use that as an excuse to spend more time with you” he begins softly and he pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor before he looks back up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of apprehension and sincerity.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but i really like spending time with you. even in small ways, like this... it means a lot to me.”

he took a deep breath as if drawing strength from the air between you both before he speaks again. "i like you yn, i really like you", he confesses, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

your heart skips a beat at his confession and his cheeks are slightly flushed, and he looked at you with a hopeful, almost earnest expression, as if he was bracing himself for your reaction. as you took in his words, you could no longer deny the affection that had quietly grown within you for seungcheol. it would be a lie to say you weren't fond of him, you liked spending time with him too, liked his presence, liked him.

“i like you too,” you finally whisper, your voice barely more than a breath. the words felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, and the relief in his expression was palpable. seungcheol's eyes brightened as he took in your response. there was something profoundly sweet about the way he looked at you, like he would do anything for you.

you watch as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, before breaking out into a full-blown smile. it was one of those smiles that seemed to light up the entire room, making his eyes sparkle as his lips curved upwards, and a deep dimple appeared on his cheek, a tiny but unmistakable mark of his joy and happiness.

"that's good", is all he finally says, looking at you. "good?", you question and he nods bashfully.

"yeah, because i'm sort of head over heels for you already. so if you like me back, then that's really good", he says, emphasising his words.

his words are so sincere and the way he says them makes your heart swell with warmth. the casual but gentle way he admitted his feelings, combined with his adorable smile and that charming dimple; it didn't make his confession feel heavy. it felt right.

“so you're really head over heels for me huh?” you tease gently.

"i wouldn’t have it any other way", he says giving you a wink and making you smile, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

as you both continue to stroll down the softly lit street, the evening air is cool and refreshing. you glance at seungcheol, who’s still holding a bottle of banana milk that you had given him, but now it’s slightly crumpled from being clutched tightly, and the sight of it makes you chuckle.

“drink it up soon,” you say, gesturing toward the bottle with a small nod. “your stomach must be in a bit of a war right now".

seungcheol quietly pokes the banana milk with the straw and sips on it. he bumps his shoulder against yours gently, his gaze full of affection when you turn to look at him.

"want a sip?", he offers but shake your head and you pull out another banana milk bottle from your bag instead, showing it to him. "i see you came prepared", he says.

"yeah, i had to neutralise the damage on your poor stomach", you joke and the sweet sound of his chuckle fills the air, his dimple deepening as he grins wide and looks at you.

god, how he was hopelessly in love with you.

taglist: @paindivinemp3 @naaaaafla @icyminghao @weird-bookworm

@blue-jisungs @wheeboo @joshuaahong @wootify @fallingforshua29

@n4mj00nvq @itsvernonicaxxx @lvlystars @mirxziii @anniag

@hannyoontify @frankenstein852 @fxstpace @gyubakeries

@ppyopulii

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icupblog · 19 days ago

Text

Fistfight

What happens when they try to end an argument with their fists?

batboys x fem!reader (part 1/3)

TW: cursing, men hitting on you, punching

Bruce Wayne

The dress you're currently wearing clings to your body, it was a deep black and you picked it out especially for this fundraiser. You had to drag a reluctant Bruce to said fundraiser, he kept on muttering under his breath as you got into his car. Looking over at him now however he seemed to be slowly getting into his element as he was talking to Lex Luthor. Obviously trying to get him to donate to the cause, however Luthor is anything but pursuasive.

You then turn to the latest boy wonder, who was trying to coo some old moneys into donating to an animal shelter in Crime Alley. It was charming to see him so passionate about something he believed in. You sigh contentedly before going back to the buffet, this dress wasn't made for people who liked to eat every 24 hours.

"It's a shame Wayne brought you. The big oaf is undeserving of such a beautiful piece," a voice says behind you, looking round to face them you try and hide the grimace on your face. "Hammer! how nice to see you, You look fantastic tonight." You try and save face, hopefully he'll give you some small talk and scram. Instead he starts chuckling, in that weird rich way that makes you want to turn tail out of the room. You take the time to glance at Bruce who is glaring at you, or rather the man next to you. Hammer Industries was a direct competitor for Wayne Enterprises, and one of Bruce's least favourite people in this hall. He slowly starts to stalk towards you, You know he wants to distance you from the jaws of the hammerhead. (hahahaha)

"You don't have to be here with him, you know..." Hammer starts "I'm sure I could be much more suited to your... tastes." You try and stop grinding your teeth together. You sigh, he was talking about the multiple rumours about Bruce and your relationship; you were a gold-digger, a girl from the narrows that struck gold when Bruce Wayne took an interest in her, who was stealing his heart and his millions by just existing near him. Hammer then grabs your arm. "Hey, you listenin' sweetheart?" You try and pull your arm away. "You tryin' to get rid of me? I thought you were a filthy wh-" You thrash you arm until your out of his grip. Once your away from him you start slowly walking away. You're about to turn around to look for Bruce but luckily for you he finds you first. Unluckily for Hammer though as 'Brucie' Wayne seemed anything but friendly as he stood infront of you both.

"Have we got a problem Hammer?" He speaks slow, with a gravely voice. Almost as if he was out on the streets as the dark night. "Yeah, we do... Your girl is a bi-" A smack echoes through the hall. You look at Bruce whose fist is raised, about to strike again. Hammer wobbles to his feet, "what the fuck Wayne..." Bruce stands tall and intimidating. "Say that again... go on." You look at Bruce, like really look. He's standing above Hammer, looking like his bat counterpart. He's... scary. You snap out of it before going "okay honey, lets leave," Bruce gently takes you arm before leading you out of the ballroom.

After that night social media blows up with tweets and edits of Bruce's overprotectiveness.

Gothamkillme: THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE 🥀🥀🥀🥀

Nightwingsleftasscheek: where did you find him?

2ndrobinisalive: do you do weddings? 💜

Dick Grayson

You huddled around your freezing drink amid the humid atmosphere. It was far too warm in this stuffy bar so your boyfriend Dick was getting another round of drinks.

A ding from your pocket made you check your phone.

'patrols bad might need Nightwing?'

You sighed, after jokers escape from Arkham things had been hectic for the Waynes or rather the Waynes counterparts.

About five seconds after this, your phone rang - Jason was calling you. You quickly pock up knowing how impatient he is.

'Hey ma, is Dick there?'

"He's getting us drinks, are you gonna interrupt our date night, again?"

'...maybe'

You give an extra loud sigh, just so Jason could hear it.

"Give me 30 minutes"

'10?'

"20."

'deal'

You end the call knowing that in 20 minutes (probably less) he will call again and pretend to be losing against some goons, just so Dick will head off to patrol. For a crime lord he was weirdly clingy.

Your sour expression must be readable because a man sits down at your table. You look up and immediately blurt out

"sorry, my boyfriend is sittin-"

"arguing with your mister huh?" mystery man says "I'm sorry?"

"I- uh. I heard you on the phone. And I thought, well if your tired of him out should be looking at other specimens-"

"No thank you, I have a boyfriend."

"Do you really need one though?"

You give him a deadpan look.

"Listen lady- uh, miss I'm just saying you can sample others you know?"

you slowly turn your head to look at the mystery man.

"Well my BOYFRIEND is just getting drinks, so my BOYFRIEND who I LOVE will be back soon." Your said boyfriend is still chatting with the bartender.

The man smirked like you were lying to him, (which you were not!!)

"Sure whatever you say, darling"

At this point Dick had turned towards you and was practically bounding towards your table. As he approaches you give him a pointed look, which he ignores.

"Hey man, you ok?" he asks the mystery man.

"yeah, ha just wanted to get this honey's number"

Dick almost stumbles over the table before pointing at you. "her?"

The man looks confused before chuckling. "yeah, what are you gonna do about it though guy? Trip over your own feet?" He laughs again "God! You're almost as dumb as she is,"

Before you can open your mouth to retort Dick clocks him between the eyes. "Did he touch you?" You shake your head. "Can you go home now?" you ask meekly.

Dick's arm is still raised in a punching motion, about to strike. He then sighs and says "yeah baby, let's get you home."

Little did you know that mystery man would be getting a little visit from Nightwing later tonight.

dividers by @cursed-carmine

thank you for all the support on my last series, I can't believe I have so many followers

Thank you!!!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

#batman #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader

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kunasthiast · 4 months ago

Text

jumpsuits and motors (1)

summary: when one visit to his usual mechanic changed his life for the better… or not? especially when the mechanic he had in mind to check his car wasn’t you – the one who is unbelievably unimpressed by who the fuck he is. and now, you’re on his mind 24/7 – right next to his narcissistic tendencies and thoughts of only him and his precious baby (his car).

pairings: sukuna x reader (female) genre/warnings: sukuna is an arrogant, cocky, bratty asshole, racer AU, mechanic AU, underground street car racing, reader’s a mechanic (currently studying engineering), fluff, future smut, attempt at humor word count: 3.2k All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

taglist is still open for those who wanna be added!

masterlist

part one > part two

The thrill of the chase. The pulse of adrenaline. The deafening roar of the crowd after every victory. This is what Sukuna lives for. This is what he’d die for.

And this weekend, he’s gonna risk it all.

As an undefeated underground street racer, Sukuna’s days revolve around training, fine-tuning his technique – or whatever else you call it – and making sure his car is in always in peak condition. Every week, without fail, he brings his baby to his shop – the only one he trusts.

This time, though, he’s not just racing anyone.

His opponent? Gojo Satoru. The cocky, loudmouthed idiot who’s been his biggest rival – and his biggest pain in the ass.

For months, Gojo’s been running his mouth about how he’s gonna take the win. Please, when he sees Sukuna, he never fails to mention it. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And always with that damn smug smirk and a wink, just to piss him off.

“Who’s faster between you two?”

Sukuna’s response? Always the same: “Why even ask when you already know?”

And yet, Gojo never lets it slide.“Nah, I’d win.”

It takes a lot of everything in Sukuna not to punch this stupid idiot square in the jaw. And being the calm, cool, collected one (of course) Sukuna settles for flipping Gojo off instead. Yup, this pink-haired dude is highly confident he’ll win this coming race, maintaining his undefeated history and finally break off his rival’s win history.

This race? It’s his.

Easy, as always.

With one week to go, his red Audi R8 purrs down the highway, weaving through traffic effortlessly as he heads to his one and only favorite shop – the one place that keeps his car in top condition, no exceptions. He pulls into the garage, kills the engine and steps out – only to find the place empty.

Frowning, he tucks his keys into his pocket and crosses his arms. He knows he booked his baby's checkup. He’s fucking meticulous about this shit.

Just as his irritation bubbles over, a voice calls out from the pantry.

“Uh, we’re closed!”

Sukuna’s brow twitched. The fuck?

“What do you mean it’s closed? I have a scheduled appointment,” he shouts back, which by the way is very obviously annoyed.

Footsteps shuffled and a moment later, you walked into view, casually biting into a cinnamon roll. You’re in a navy-blue jumpsuit, the top half tied around your waist, revealing a black tank top clinging to your frame. And, your trusty 5-year old scuffed-up boots – clearly well-loved – to complete the look.

“Chill out, cutie,” you say between bites. “I definitely sent everyone a message this morning that we’re closed today. Maybe you just forgot to check your phone?” You continued chewing on your cinnamon roll – without missing a beat – even offered this pink-haired hottie your half-eaten cinnamon roll, “Hmm, this one’s good. Want some?”

Sukuna deadpan stared at you. Cutie? Yep, his irritation spikes. So does his curiosity. Because you? You’re fucking hot.

Ignoring your snack offer – he’s not a fan of sweets – he pulls out his phone. Sure enough, a message from the shop sits unread. This pulls out a groan from him. Shit. He really should’ve checked his phone before driving out here.

“Why are you even closed today?” He mutters, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “I need my car checked today.”

You take another bite, unfazed. “Suit yourself, I’ll just have all the rolls to myself. Dad’s out running errands. I’m the only one here.”

Sukuna’s barely listening now. He’s watching you. The way you’re leaning against the workbench, the grease stains on your arms, the way your jumpsuit sits low on your hips.

And – fuck.

Pink hair or not, he know he looks intimidating. People usually tread lightly around him. Even the mechanics here. Even his competitors. Even people who walk past by him on the streets.

But you? You’re standing there, eating a damn cinnamon roll, calling him cutie, and acting like you don’t know exactly who he is.

Not a fan of awkward situations, you continued chewing on your pastry and observing this hottie. He’s wearing a tight black shirt and gray sweatpants which clearly outlined his sexy, muscular physique. He has a cute fluff of pink hair, too, that’s surely something you didn’t expect for someone with an intimidating demeanor and face tattoos. You thought, he’s kinda cute and hot, why have you only seen him today?

Sukuna knows you’re gawking at him. He notices everyone looking at him. Every time.

Naturally, his lips curl into a smirk. “What, in love with me already?”

You snort mid-bite. “Please.”

Unbothered, you finished eating your damn cinnamon roll, then turn on your heel, walking back toward the pantry, clearly ignoring what he just said and replied back with, “You are kinda cute, though.”

Oh.

Sukuna blinks. That’s… not what he expected.

And, fuck, he likes this attitude of yours.

He follows you inside, eyes locked on your back. Who even are you, he thought and realized. “Wait a second. You’re Akira’s daughter?! I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”

You glance over your shoulder. “Uh, yeah? I work here, what else would I be doing here?” You reach into the small fridge with your ass clearly hanging in front of him, rummaging for another drink. “Soda or beer?”

“Soda. I’m driving,” he says, but he’s not thinking about the drink. He’s openly staring and thinking about the way you’re bent over, ass sticking out, completely unaware of the perverted thoughts running through his head.

He forces himself to look away, leaning against the wall as you toss him a can.

“What kinda work you do here, then?”

“Mechanic.” You went to the other side of the room to sit down at the table and pop open your drink to take a sip.

Sukuna nearly chokes as he’s sipping on his soda. “You’re a mechanic?!”

Arching an eyebrow, you were offended. “What, that hard to believe?”

He scoffs, eyeing you up and down. “Didn’t expect that. Why don’t you just check my car then?”

“Nope, I’m off duty!” You chuckled and winked. “Just wait for my dad.” You then grabbed your phone on the table and opened it to scroll through your messages, checking if you got any update from your dad on when he’ll be back. Yup, no updates.

You just sent a message to your dad to update him about the mysterious, sexy man’s presence in the garage. Yes, he’s very sexy.

You what time will u be back? pink haired boy’s here to see u says he got weekly car checkups & can’t miss it 9:02AM

“Anyway, who are you? What’s up with the weekly car check up?” You said, looking at him. He was eyeing the room idly and turned his eyes to you while taking another sip of his soda and raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know me?”

“Uh, should I?” You snorted, clearly finding his confident aura interesting.

“I’m the best street car racer in this city. Undefeated. Sukuna, King of the Tracks. Ring a bell?” Sukuna said as he fixes his stance and threw the soda can on the trash can near the fridge. He’s staring at you with a smoldering smirk.

“… Nope” You blinked. Yeah, you really don’t know him, heck, it’s your first time meeting him! You thought.

“Unbelievable! You work in a shop that caters to race cars, and you haven’t even heard of me? This has been my go-to shop ever since I’ve started like 5 years ago.” He said with a chortle and clearly showing his disbelief on his face, his smoldering smirk faltering into a teasing grin.

You gave him a light chuckle and shrugged your shoulders while flashing Sukuna a smile, “Sorry to burst your bubble, I haven’t had the time to keep up with local street-racing celebs. ‘Sides, fixing cars is more fun than racing them.”

He snorts at this. “Blasphemy.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. ‘King of the Tracks.’ And, I just started this job a year ago.” You admitted with an emphasis on air quotes.

Sukuna feigns offense at this. But before he can argue, your phone buzzes – it’s a message from your dad.

Mecha Boss meeting’s running late be back in an hour don’t touch his car 9:05AM

You tch, yea yea not like i was gonna T^T 9:07AM

You sigh dramatically after sending your dad a text. “Dad’s gonna be back in an hour. He said he’ll check your baby by then.” You said to Sukuna with an eye roll as you close your phone.

“Why don’t you check it?” Sukuna perked up out of curiosity.

“I can’t trust myself with supercars, alright? Even dad.” Yes, you were sulking about it.

Sukuna watches you, amusement flickering in his gaze. “What, afraid of supercars?”

“Nope. Just extra careful. If I screw up, you could crash and die. Not something I wanna have on my conscience.” You ruffled your hair into a tousled mess thinking about the possible life and death consequences when you do touch a fucking supercar.

Sukuna chuckles at your animated response and gave you a fucking wink, “Damn. Didn’t know you cared so much about my safety, princess.”

This left you gaping at him with your eyes twitching, “The audacity –”

He laughs. Full, deep, cocky as hell.

“Don’cha worry, sweetheart, I got a pretty good track record of staying alive.” His voice was practically dripping with smugness, his eyes gleaming with that devil-may-care charm he wore so well.

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward. “Yeah, right, Mr. ‘Undefeated King of the Tracks’.” You threw in a set of air quotes for good measure.

That earned another laugh from him, a rich sound that made something in your chest tighten – not that you’d admit it. “Yeah, I think it’s better you don’t touch my car,” he finally conceded, grinning like he’d just let you win.

As his laughter faded, you shook your head, more amused than you wanted to be. Cocky, arrogant, insufferably confident – but there was something about him. Something magnetic.

“Alright,” you replied with a playful smirk, letting the subject of his car checkup drop – for now. “I'll make sure to steer clear of your precious baby.”

Sukuna leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you like he was trying to figure something out. “You know,” he said, his voice dripping lower, more thoughtful now, “I didn't expect to find someone like you here.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he meant. “Someone like me?”

His smirk softened just a fraction, turning into something more curious. “Yeah. Someone who's not impressed by the usual flashy cars and racing scene.” His gaze flickered over you, assessing. "You're different. Refreshing, even."

Sukuna's words lingered in the air, and you found yourself drawn to the genuine curiosity in his eyes. There was a playful edge to his demeanor that you couldn't ignore.

“Refreshing, huh?” you echoed as you met his gaze with a coy smile playing on your lips. “Well, I'll take that as a compliment, coming from the 'King of the Tracks' himself. I just like fixing cars and stuff.”

Sukuna lets out a low chuckle, a hint of admiration shining in his eyes. “Trust me, it's not a title I give out lightly,” he mused, voice laced with something undeniably flirtatious. “But you? You're in a league of your own.”

Rolling your eyes and waved him off. “Flattery’s cute and all, but that’s really a bold claim coming from you.” You then remembered that you brought your knapsack today and looked for it. As you see it, you pulled it out and fished around inside for your laptop.

You had plans. To study.

Technically.

Your dad had given you some actual race data to review, but instead, you booted up Stardew Valley. See, your mom had made a deal with your dad – if you studied for your upcoming final exam this week (which starts tomorrow, by the way) while you’re at the shop today, you could tag along to the race this weekend.

And in your genius brain, you figured that optimizing a fully automated farm system was basically the same as learning resource management and problem solving.

Flawless logic.

You set up shop on the counter, flipping open your laptop. The familiar pixelated graphics greeted you, and within seconds, you were deep into harvesting your cranberries, managing your sprinklers, and planning the most efficient layout for your barn upgrades and eventual greenhouse.

Sukuna, who had been watching you with mild curiosity over your abrupt attention of not remembering he’s there, suddenly leaned over your shoulder.

“The hell is that?”

You didn’t look up, too focused on getting a perfect harvest cycle before the in-game day reset. “My farm.”

He blinked. “Your what?”

“My farm, pretty boy,” you repeated, exasperated. “I need to get my wine production up and running before winter hits. This is serious business.”

There was a long pause. Then a raucous laughter.

You scowled as Sukuna actually doubled over, gripping the edge of the counter for support as he wheezed.

“Wait – wait,” he gasped between laughs, “you, the grease-covered, ‘I’d rather fix cars than race them’ mechanic, are sitting here, running a farm?”

“Yes,” you said flatly.

He snorted.

You clicked your tongue, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called being efficient, sweetheart. I don’t just fix cars, I build sustainable economies.” And please, your kegs weren’t gonna make themselves.

That earned you a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t peg you for a nerd.”

You finally looked up, smirking. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d give a shit about a farming sim.”

“I don’t,” he shot back. “I just find it hilarious that someone who refuses to touch a supercar has no problem running an entire pixel farm like a fucking tycoon.” He leaned in closer, tilting his head as he studied your screen. “So what, you just… plant stuff?”

“Plant, harvest, sell, reinvest,” you corrected. “It’s all about strategy.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you. “That sound suspiciously like racing.”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “How in the hell is this like racing?”

He crossed his arms, clearly enjoying himself. “Think about it. You plan your route, optimize your car’s performance, anticipate obstacles, and time everything perfectly to get the best results. What’s the difference?”

“… Shit.” You blinked. He had a point. A stupidly good one. Looking back, your logic is actually flawless. Just sounded stupid coming from him. It’s actually a good thing you’re playing instead of studying those boring race data. You’re subconsciously learning how to strategize better.

Sukuna grinned, clearly reveling in the fact that he just blew your mind. “So basically, you’re a racer. Just… in a really fucking nerdy way.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Don’t make me rethink my entire existence, pretty boy.”

“Nah, I like this.” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “I show up for a routine car check, and instead, I find a grease-streaked mechanic-slash-secret gaming strategist who doesn’t give a damn about street racing but somehow thinks running a fake-ass farm is the height of excitement.”

You shot him a playful glare for that. “You say that like you’re not just as obsessed with your car.”

“Difference is,” Sukuna leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief, “I drive my baby at over 320 kilometers an hour. You just sit here clicking shit.”

You dramatically gasped, placing a hand over your heart. “How dare you insult my empire?”

His laughter was deep, amused, and annoyingly really nice to listen to. “I’ll give you credit, though. You’ve got a different way of thinking. Kinda refreshing.”

You just puffed your cheeks at this, continuing to play. And when you were at the Stardrop Saloon to talk with some of the villagers, disaster struck.

Sukuna, who is currently grinning like a damn idiot, reached over and hit a random key on your keyboard. And you accidentally gifted your one and only iridium bar to Shane.

You gasped. Audibly.

A horrified silence filled the garage.

On-screen, Shane – the absolute waste of space that he was – sneered and said, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Oh no, your precious, valuable, hard-earned iridium.

Gone. Given to Shane.

FUCK.

You snapped your head towards Sukuna with murder in your eyes. He looked between you and the screen, struggling not to laugh, “…Did I just –”

“YOU –” you pointed at him, voice audibly shaking with rage. “Do you have any idea how rare iridium is? Any idea what you just did?!”

Sukuna, looking way too entertained by your reaction, leaned against the counter, smirking down at you. “Damn, sweetheart. Didn’t think you’d get this worked up over a little farming game.”

“Little farming game,” you inhaled sharply, then exhaled like you were about to commit violence. “You’re fucking paying for this.”

He just grinned. “Yeah? What, you gonna make me till your soil? Water your plants?”

Thank heavens you were in the pantry and playing on the counter. And the knife holder was on the counter. Yep, you grab one and threw a knife at him.

Sukuna barely dodged, the fucking knife clattering onto the floor behind him. He whistled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Shit, you’re serious.”

“DEAD serious,” you seethed. “You didn’t just give iridium bars to Shane, Sukuna.” Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting that the first time you’ll call him by his name was when you want him dead.

He just leaned in, still smirking. “Pretty sure I just did. Whoever that is.”

And you really, really want to strangle him. But then, he moved. One moment he was lounging against the counter like an asshole. The next, he had you trapped against it, hands braced on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

Your breath hitched, totally not expecting this one. And, please, you’re still mad.

His grin turned dangerous, voice dripping low. “You gonna make me pay, princess?”

Your brain short-circuited with how close he is right now to your face. You can practically smell his cologne and feel his heat and that smug, unbearable confidence. His words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but look up to him (mind you, he is a tall ass handsome man).

Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to either shove him away or – God forbid – grab onto his shirt and yank him even closer. You weren’t quire sure which impulse was stronger, but judging by the way his smirk deepened, Sukuna knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

“You gonna keep staring, sweetheart, or are you actually gonna do something about it?” His voice was all smoke and embers, teasing and taunting, like he wanted to see how far he could push you before you snapped.

And, you were this close to snapping.

Your hands shot out, fast enough that he might have flinched if he wasn’t so damn arrogant. Instead of shoving him, you grabbed the collar of his shirt. His smirk widened, but it faltered when you yanked him even closer, lips nearly brushing his ear.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” you whispered.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Oh, I like the sound of that. And that’s exactly why it’s fun.”

a/n: i don't even know what came over me to write this story. i just know that i put everything what i love here – from a cocky Sukuna to a bratty Reader. and then there's stardew and motorsports. so i hope you'll enjoy this one lol ^^

taglist: @xylov @junitries @bloomtatsuki @maeamora9 @gojoscumslut @onlypickless @domainofmarie

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #au sukuna #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x oc #jjk x y/n

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demigoddessqueens · 7 months ago

Note

Can i get a December promt 8- Sous Chef with Bells Hells with the reader being a great cook.

Sure!!! 😁

A/n - writing prompts can be found HERE

Masterlist 12

Fearne

Loves your cooking and always has a barrage of questions about your types of recipes, watching intensely as you prepare a dish and throwing a flirty compliment or two

Chetney

He considers the two of you “artists” in that you both have a trademark and technique to your set of skills. There’s never a shortage of compliments and praise to you, even a hand carved set of knives and serving spoons if you want

Imogen

Having been on the road for so long, food was never something she gave much thought to. Watching you cook food can be an emotional experience for her, having one take such time to put so much care into a dish. Sometimes volunteers being your taste taster just because

Laudna

In the past, something as simple as this would have brought back a heartbreaking type of memory, but now she sees how much love and care you prepare your food with. It makes it all the tastier when she savors it.

Orym

In Zephra, his mother and Will would cook simpler delicious meals. He was hesitant to try your food at first but he comes to love it. Always following back to your station as the smells waft through the room.

Dorian

Growing up in the lap of luxury, he’s used to such cuisine but yours takes on a new flavor for him. There’s a “homemade” atmosphere to it that royalty doesn’t offer and it warms him from within

Braius

His facial expressions betray the immense flavor that overwhelms his tastebuds, nothing was ever cooked this delicious in his old temple.

Ashton

They have not had such a meal like this in forever. Did his parents make one like this before he lost them? Whatever….they’re here now with you and this delicious meal and that’s all that matters

FCG may not be able to taste food but he can see how everyone reacts to your cooking, so he has to know it’s delicious!

#critical role #critical role x reader #bell’s hells #cr c3 #cr campaign 3 #cr campaign three #imogen temult #laudna #dorian storm #dorian storm x reader #orym of the air ashari #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #braius doomseed #chetney pock o'pea

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yandere-wishes · 6 months ago

Text

✮⋆˙Red Hood and The Big Bad Wolf ˙⋆✮

⭒⌒★ Yandere! Jason Todd x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓤 ♡ ｡゜

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

*ੈ✩‧₊ Thinking about how similar Red Hood is to Little Red Riding Hood, not just in name but also in practice. At their core, they are both things, red things, that survive. Reborn from the lugubre maws of death, forced to live another day, carrying baskets weaved of anguish and instability.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason keeps the old picture book tucked in his jacket pocket. He can't quite remember where he found the fickle thing. Can't remember why he chose such an evanescent tale to cling to.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly why he runs his fingers over his inside pocket after every fight, just to make sure the eccentric fable is still in place. Maybe it's because he understands Red Riding Hood. Knows what she's been through, what it feels like to have your innocence stripped like skin being torn from bones. To be killed and revived all in the same breath. Maybe it's because he wants to know what happens next. What happens when Little Red learns to breathe again? He wants to ask her, beg her to tell him. To be the solution to all his problems.

*ੈ✩‧₊ "How do you swallow the trauma? What do you do with the phantom pain of your heart's reanimation? How do you make the darkness go away? Did you come back the same?

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is only one thing that makes them differ. One fundamental little thing...

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason doesn't mind the wolf. Pretty pup prowling about. He blames it on his upbringing. He'd been taught to fall in love with such wicked things. From as early as he can remember he's watched bats chase cats across gargoyle-littered rooftops. Watched pretty girls throw themselves at bleached killers. That's why he's quick to be enarmed with the new villain terrorizing the Gotham streets. The girl in a wolf mask, planting bombs in jewelry stores and biting off her victim's ears.

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is nothing scary about the big bad wolf, Red Hood thinks, as he re-reads the page where the wolf and girl meet. Why fear pain when you've been to the end of the road? Why fear something when you're acquainted with its ending?

*ੈ✩‧₊ "Shouldn't wolves only come out when there's a full moon?" He swings in from the skyline, ironclad military boots lodging into your stomach pushing you back into a glass display case. "That's werewolves you idiot" you mumble out of breath, glass shards pocking at your spine. The ticking of your newest explosive rings melodically through the air. He's quick to cut the wires, to defuse your toy without a second thought. Professional you think bitterly as you pounce on his back looking for an opening of flesh to sink your teeth into.

*ੈ✩‧₊ The thing they don't tell you about dying is that you always come back wrong. Primordially, spiritually, the person who closes their eyes, is never the same one who opens them again.

But Red Riding Hood was lucky, her story ended before she realized that dreadful thing. Jason has to deal with it every day, the reverberating scars, the colorless world that fractures and breaks should he let his mind wander astray. The fact that his heart only ever truly beats when he sees the fluffy ears of your cowl and that damn bloodthirsty smirk.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason Todd who's only brave enough to call it love after you stake a knife through his heart. The bulletproof vest and armor keep the damage away, but he can see the murderous intent shimmering in your eyes. It's only then that he pulls you down by the back of your neck. Lips to lips, a messy clash of anathema and apprehension. Your teeth gnaw at his lips while his tongue composes ballads on the roof of your mouth.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He wonders if Little Red ever went back for the wolf. If she ever dares kiss him with all the pain and anguish she has left in her body. Nicking her tongue on his razor-sharp teeth. Guiding his claws to ghost over her frail body. He wonders if the wolf can even hurt her. There's so little left that can hurt you when you've already felt the end.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He knows you stalk him, follow him even during the day. Sometimes he pulls you into the back alleyway. Knife at your throat as he soaks up your ethereal face. Mask on, mask off. In the end, you'd have found out anyway. His hands squeeze at your hips, needing the flesh, leaving his essence over your body. His lips danced over the back of your neck, biting tenderly at the apex of your shoulder.

*ੈ✩‧₊ You seem to like it when his knife cuts deep. When his punches crack bone. When his boots crush you into the pavement. You throw your head back and laugh, witty little threats spilling from your mouth. So this is love he thinks as your claws rake over his biceps ripping the muscle like ribbons, rummaging through the blood and tissue in search of bone. "Poor little puppy" he mocks "looking for a bone to chew on". "Shut up you tomato-looking freak" you scream as his teeth sink into your jaw, crunching of bone.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He thinks you look gorgeous when you're irritated, he thinks you're beautiful when your bloodthirst seeps through the anger. He bites back a moan as your knee nests into his gut.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Did Little Red ever talk to her mother again? Or did she hold a grudge, haunted by her betrayal of sending her into the woods unarmed, heartbroken that she never came looking for her? Jason's thoughts pound inside his head, picture-book illustrations flash before him of Little Red pushing her mother away, of tears streaming down her face, screaming, screaming, screaming. He hisses as his lacerations burn. Hand suspended, pushing down the urge to knock on his father's door. Bruce would know what to do...he always knows what to do. It's such a childish notion, he clings to. Even now, even after he was killed and left un-avenged Jason still wholeheartedly believes in the notion that Daddy will fix everything...He's halfway to the entrance gate when Bruce alls after him, cadence thick with grief and ache. Jason doesn't turn back, he runs and runs and runs.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who crashes through your apartment window. Pushes you back onto the bed and lies next to you as you squirm and scream. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist and nuzzles into the crux of your neck. Mumbling Little Red Riding Hood's tale until you fall asleep. "How did You know I love the story?" you ask, the next morning to the empty half of your bed. Last night's tremulous dread still laying heavy on your corpse.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who lays on his window seal, watching as the sun pokes through Granny Red's face. It's funny isn't it, in such a twisted way didn't he also die in his grandfather's house? Only to be reborn while he watched? Didn't the same thing happen to Little Red?

*ੈ✩‧₊ That night Jason dream he's was walking through the grass, headed for the forest behind Wayne manner. He's trapped inside his jejune body, the body of a boy wonder. Clutching a basket with a crowbar inside as dread dances in his stomach. His old red cape taut around his neck, suffocating, skin-tight. He's forgotten how to breathe, puerile fear of those ghoulish old trees clawing at his body. Through the dimness, through lose rays that escape the moon's greed he's able to spot you. Weaving through the bushes and trees, stalking closer and closer. He doesn't know whether to meet you halfway or retreat. Frozen like a robin being pounced on by a sickly smiling cat. His eyes meet yours, right before you attack.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who misses you, when he doesn't catch you on patrol, of course, he misses you, it's hard not to miss a broken bone. Hard to feel the sting of your wounds and forget who put them there.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason finally realizes that he just can't bear to be away from you. This love, this mania, it's all for you. He needs you. He's got you corned, the end of a chase. You smile, all teeth and games, "You're pretty when sulk" you whisper, tracing claws up his chest, digging into the space between each ridge. "Oh really? How can you tell when I got this helmet on?" You laugh, coy and flirtish "I just do" you shrug. Pulling his helmet up, lips ghosting over his in a mockery of a kiss. Jason pushes forward, entraping your lips against his. Lost in intimacy he's quick to grab you, to drag you back to his apartment, to lock the doors and throw away the key. To keep the big bad wolf where she belongs, right next to Little Red Riding Hood.

🎀I feel like every Batson deserves a villainess to fall in love with. Let's call this one WolfWoman. TBH I feel like I want to write more for her in the future.

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prael · 7 months ago

Text

Day 9: Subservience

TripleS Jiwoo x male reader smut

words: 3,980 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"I've known the owner for years. She's really kind and she always gives me extra," Jiwoo explains as she guides you, hand-in-hand, down the street to the ice-cream shop that she swears is the best in the country. You don't question her, she knows what's good and she knows your tastes. You do struggle to keep up with the strides of her long legs. She's still fuelled by annoyance.

The game against the Eagles was a rough one. There were several fights, some more physical than others, but all were fueled by the rivalry. Jiwoo's game ended when she slammed one of the Eagles' players into the boards. It was a rough hit, enough for the ref to throw her out of the game, and you can't blame her. It was a dirty hit. But Jiwoo had been riled up by a series of fouls that the ref hadn't seen. So she reacted, and the player took advantage.

As soon as you step into the shop, Jiwoo visibly relaxes. A warm smile takes over her features that widens once the owner steps out from the back. "Jiwoo! How have you been, sweetie?" the woman gushes as she rounds the counter.

"I'm well," Jiwoo smiles. "And yourself?"

"Always busy!" the woman chuckles. "The business is doing very well." You see Jiwoo's hand tense as it holds your hand tighter. "What are you having today?"

"The usual, we'll share." Jiwoo orders without asking you.

"And who is this fine young man?"

You open your mouth to speak but Jiwoo is already talking before any sound can leave you. She introduces you—first by name and then as her boyfriend, her best friend. It makes your heart swell to hear her speak so highly about you.

You wait for the ice cream to be done, listening in as Jiwoo makes small talk with the shop owner. She seems happy to hear about the great games Jiwoo is playing and asks if next time she can bring some pictures for the bulletin board above one of the booths. It's cute to see her talk so excitedly about her games and everything she does on the team.

Finally, she asks the two of you to take a seat before promising to be over in just a minute. Jiwoo leads the way and slides into a booth in the corner. You sit down opposite her just as the ice cream and a couple of spoons slide into your view.

"Alright you two, enjoy!" the shop-owner exclaims before leaving you alone again. You both mutter your thanks, taking your spoons.

"Thanks," you say after Jiwoo takes a mouthful. "For bringing me out here." She looks up from her spoon and laughs.

"You haven't even tried it yet, here." She takes a spoonful and reaches out to you, pushing the spoon between your lips.

She is right, of course, the ice cream is good. "Really, really good." She smiles in contentment at the compliment of her choice, reaching over to scoop up a spoonful of another flavour.

"The best," she corrects. "So what do you want to do when we get home?"

"A movie maybe?"

Jiwoo raises a questioning brow at your choice as she spoons up more. She pouts for a second. "I was going to say I could fuck you senseless, but sure, a movie." Her laugh makes you realize she is teasing you and you feel the red creeping into your cheeks. The ice cream shop isn't busy at all, just a couple of regulars, but that doesn't stop you from glancing around in case somebody heard. Jiwoo laughs even harder as the worry shows in your expression.

"We could watch a movie first. Before you... you know."

"Oh, I definitely know." Jiwoo chuckles again, this time softer but the fire is in her eyes now, you've seen this before, felt the touch of her fire.

The walk home is peaceful. The sun has just fallen over the sunset leaving a soft glow, the breeze is cool and gentle, and the cars pass slowly. You're the one who is holding her hand now, feeling her body pressed into your arm, leaning onto you as you guide her along the path home, and even without a word spoken, it feels perfect.

Then there's a ring. Jiwoo's phone. She fumbles around for her pocket before pulling it out and sliding the lock screen to the side.

"Yes, this is Jiwoo." You wait in silence, watching her brows furrow. "What the hell? Why?" The look in her eye makes you nervous, you can almost see the steam rising from her ears. She lets go of your hand and stops. You halt with her and listen in. You can hear a voice on the other end of the line but not enough to discern words. Whatever it was, though, it made her mood flip. She ends the call abruptly with a stern 'yeah,' before slipping the phone back into her jacket pocket. Her face has turned to stone.

"What is it?" you ask and place a hand on her shoulder. She turns away from the gesture.

"It was one of the assistant coaches," Jiwoo begins, looking ahead. Her gaze seems lost in the distance, unfocused on whatever was before her but focused on something, something unpleasant. "She's been in touch with the officials, they're suspending me for three games." It's short, sharp, abrupt.

"What?"

"Let's just go home." Jiwoo shrugs off your hand and walks away. You rush after her.

"But that hit was barely—"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just go home."

You leave it at that, following a few paces behind. She doesn't turn to you, doesn't offer her hand, just keeps walking.

As you enter the building lobby you make a point of taking hold of her hand again, as if trying to anchor her in this moment rather than her lost gaze. The elevator doors open and you both step in, her thumb rolls across the back of your hand in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine," she finally says with a deep breath. "I'll be okay."

She throws herself onto the bed as soon as the door closes. Face down, head in a pillow. Her legs dangle over the bed, kicking back and forth. She groans, it's muffled, and she stretches out with a huff.

"Jiwoo?"

Her head tilts to the side to acknowledge you.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

You don't expect much of an answer but you receive one nonetheless, a firm one that makes you gulp. "Yes." She pushes herself upright and stares at you.

"Get naked," her voice is cold and low. Not what you had in mind.

"What?"

"Naked, I need you naked," Jiwoo states again. Her face is stony and her gaze intense. "And on your knees."

Your heart skips a beat. The tone in her voice doesn't suggest this is up for negotiation, not that it matters. She is angry, that much is clear.

"Jiwoo, is this—"

"Did I ask for an opinion?" Her expression stays cold and distant, though there is an unmistakable spark in her eye. She climbs to sit on the edge of the bed and stares through you with that same intensity that is still growing hotter and more dangerous with every second. She crosses one leg over the other, and in those shorts, it is nothing less than a treat.

"Yes, Jiwoo," you nod and start removing your shirt.

"Don't call me Jiwoo right now." You are half-naked and pulling your jeans down to the floor as Jiwoo continues. "From now on it's 'yes miss' and 'right away miss' and 'please let me cum miss.' Do you understand?"

You love it when she gets like this. She's in charge and will not be challenged. You stand in awe for a second as you take in her presence before nodding in response. You drop down onto your knees, naked and exposed.

"Yes miss," you repeat just before shuffling a few steps closer.

She looks down at you, watching intently, then uncrosses her legs to let one foot press to your bare torso. "Good boy," she says. The heel of her foot presses against your chest, and then she kicks out. You're pushed back but regain your composure and return to how you were kneeling before.

"I was so fucking happy earlier!" Her voice is strained as she stands up in front of you. "Now? Now, now, now," she trails off, "Now I just need something to take the fucking edge off."

Her hand snakes around the back of your head to grip your hair. She pulls and it hurts. You look up and are instantly met by her dark expression.

"Do you know how to do something like that?"

You nod in response. She grips at your hair again. There's that pain again.

"I asked if you knew how to do that."

"Yes miss." That earns a smile. It's faint but there. You'll earn more from her before this night is done.

She releases your hair and steps back to sit down again, feet planted firmly on the floor, and her hands on the waist of those short shorts.

"Help me undress." The cold tone is still there and you shuffle forwards again on your knees to obey. Your hands find her thighs first, resting there gently as you lean in, and your lips brush hers with the softest of caress. Your kiss is delicate and gentle, caring even as if you're asking permission to proceed.

"Don't tease me." She huffs and pulls back to glare down at you, and you see the fire there again.

"Sorry, Miss," you offer.

"I told you to help me undress, not play around."

You nod. She is right. This isn't play. Not for you. You reach up for her shorts and unfasten the top button. The zipper goes down quickly and easily. Such long legs and tiny little shorts. Your hands pull at the denim, sliding them down her soft skin and letting your fingertips graze them delicately. You see her underwear next. Pink, cute and such a contrast to the power of its wearer. You throw away the shorts and stare in awe, your mind filling with the thoughts of what comes next.

She sees your expression and wastes no time in calling you out. "You're staring."

"Sorry miss." Your voice is low and quiet.

"It's not yours to gawk at."

"I know, miss."

"So stop staring and undress me, I'm not doing it for you," she snaps. She gestures down and you know exactly what she wants from you now. You know her body well. You know exactly where you should be, where she wants you, and how to please her. And you're not going to leave her disappointed.

With a nod and a 'Yes Miss' you get back to undressing her. The underwear is soft against your fingertips as you hook a few digits around the top of them. She raises an eyebrow, impatiently. Her expression tells you that she is waiting—to have you ravage her. With the fabric held lightly, you pull. Her hips lift a fraction of an inch to help you, allowing you to reveal the pink folds between her thighs.

The pants are discarded somewhere, forgotten as you move in closer, feeling the warmth of her pussy. Jiwoo smirks as you look back up, finding her watching your face and every movement.

"Eat." Her hand pushes your face closer to the apex of her thighs. Her legs rest on your shoulders. Soft thighs hug the sides of your face and the strong muscles tense as she feels you push your lips against her soft cunt. You let your tongue run up the length, taking in her scent, her flavour and her heat. It has you weak in seconds.

Your eyes are half closed as you lap at her juices, and she keeps one hand on your head, her nails raking through your hair. "I needed this so bad." Her words come with a breathy sigh as you suck on her lips. Her head tilts back and she relaxes. Jiwoo moans, softly, sensually, with your head in her grip and your tongue buried inside her pussy.

Her thighs squeeze tighter around your head and her heels dig into your back. "Such a good boy." Her voice is surprisingly tender compared to her actions. "Use your fingers." You immediately oblige. Two fingers sink into her slick wet cunt.

You suck on her clit, rolling your tongue around it as your fingers curl and stretch inside of her. Her sighs and quiet moans start low and light, little hints, little teases. Then the sounds build louder. As your fingers quicken their pace and your tongue beats on her clit, you meet her unspoken demand. Subservience is all she needs.

Jiwoo grips your hair as her moans turn to desperate mewling. "Fuck..." She whines and drags out the word until her hips buck and her thighs tense. In a shivering climax, her voice goes silent and her thighs clench hard. But you're still caught between them. You don't move away, pressing on with kisses and more long sucks until her gasps subside.

"Enough." It's the softest you've heard her this evening, but still, that command is clear and uncompromising. You pull away.

Jiwoo sighs and, while she takes the time to recompose herself, you remain kneeling between her legs in perfect patience.

"Good boy," she comments while her hand is roaming back through your hair. Then she sighs again, leans forward and beckons you to move closer with a simple 'come here.' Jiwoo places a soft peck on your cheek before moving her mouth to your ear. "Stand up and get on the bed."

You do exactly as you're told. Naked and standing, she tugs her shirt over her head. The bra comes next. The toned athletic figure of this woman is enough to make your mouth water, and your throbbing erection twitch, desperate for her to touch. Yet you refrain, knowing, and understanding what this is about. She'll decide when that happens, not you.

As soon as you climb up to sit on the bed Jiwoo moves, too, climbing onto your lap and, once straddling you, making it impossible to not feel the heat of her already wet cunt against your cock. Her lips meet your neck in several rough, hungry kisses and it makes you groan softly, you want more, you need more but you can't have it yet. Not unless she allows it.

"Are you going to behave for me?" she coos, kissing your jaw as she speaks.

"Yes miss."

"Good." The first gentle movement of her hips is torture, the way she ruts against your cock. You're aching for a relief. All you want to do is bury yourself in her right now, feel the tightness as she pulsates around you. "You have to earn that."

Your hands rise of their own accord but you catch them mid-air, waiting for permission to touch, to hold her, to bring her closer. "Please, miss?"

She smiles against your neck, and kisses you again, while the warm wetness of her slick folds pushes down the length of you with slow, tantalizing movements. You moan, louder than you intended and your hips rock up against her, you can't help it. They beg to drive up further, to bury yourself inside her, but you have to wait, wait until she is satisfied.

"What is it? Can't control yourself? Is my pussy making you excited?"

The voice is honey-laced and the heat between her legs, pressed down onto you is torture. This game she plays is nothing less than absolute arousal.

"Yes miss."

"If you can't control yourself..." Her voice trails off as she pulls herself away from you. "Close your eyes."

You nod in obedience, close your eyes as commanded and listen.

A low rumbling meets your ears. A familiar click follows, then a rustle. There are her footsteps next, soft and careful, coming closer to the side of the bed. Jiwoo's breathing is heavy, and so is your own, you still smell the lingering muskiness that lingers in the air. The clink of metal and then the cool sensation of the steel on your wrists causes your eyes to open and stare at the cuffs, binding each of your hands to the bed posts.

"Just in case you don't obey the rules." She smiles and her demeanour is playful, taunting, and seductive. It's her game now and you're just the toy.

"Now, where was I?" Her naked body slides over you. She takes your face in her hands and holds it in place for her mouth to meet yours again.

All you know is the dance of her tongue against yours and the movements of her hands as they run over you. Those long fingers travel from your face, to your jaw, neck and over your collarbone, descending to your chest. Once her hands make it there, she scratches them down along your torso to your stomach. Pain lingers where her nails mark you.

Then the rest of her body begins its motions. Hips roll. Her pussy grinds against you, slick and ready, again and again. Her motions are slow, precise, and calculated. Each kiss and each bite, each scratch of her nails over your body. In turn, your arms pull against the restraints and your cock aches with desire.

This is going to be a long night for you. You're bound, helpless, struggling, desperate. Watching the woman's body undulate above you is maddening. Feeling her on you, feeling her pussy grinding on you is heavenly. Her sharp groans and low moans in your ear make you even more desperate.

Jiwoo shivers, her skin prickles with goosebumps and the muscles in her core tense and relaxes again and again. All you can focus on is the intense and overwhelming feeling of her sex rubbing so eagerly against you. She bites her lip, furrows her brows and leans into her pleasure. Her breaths increase and her movements become erratic.

"I'm going to fuck you until I've had enough," she pants.

This woman can take whatever she wants, whenever she wants. You are no exception.

"Jiwoo..." You can't help it. Her name escapes.

"What did you call me?"

You still. Waiting. Heartbeat in your ears. Worry in your eyes.

Jiwoo shakes her head. She stops rocking her hips and grabs hold of your face, staring at you, almost searching for something as her gaze probes yours. There is a fire in those eyes, like the roaring blaze of a furnace, the blazing sun of a summer day. Fire is a destructive, uncompromising, beautiful, passionate force. The flame of passion burns, you have seen it. The flame consumes as Jiwoo does.

"Now I'm really going to need to punish you. Gonna ride you until it hurts."

"Please," you moan.

She reaches between her thighs to aim your cock towards her pussy and slowly presses down, guiding it through her soft, soaked folds before enveloping you in the absolute hotness and wetness of her cunt. Your eyes roll as she pulls her hips upwards a fraction and then down again, impaling herself, feeling her tighten with her motions.

Slow.

Hard.

She drives her hips down against yours. Your eyes lock again and the flames begin to spill forth. Your legs tremble. Your toes curl. Your back arches, your arms tense and tug against the bonds. The cuffs bite and the bed frame creaks. Each thrust and slam and wet pulse around your rock-hard cock elicits a sound, deep and involuntary, as you try to endure her punishment. Jiwoo knows this, she enjoys it, fucking you over and over, taking her pleasure, she needs this.

Her hips shift suddenly, changing the angle. Everything is better like this, she feels so good, moving, riding, panting. You growl in tortured ecstasy and she seems even more eager. Her grip is so hard on the sides of your body, her nails burying into your skin.

"Ah, right there, yes!"

Jiwoo slams her ass down against your hips and grinds, moving quickly, desperately. And you want her. Fuck, how you want her. But you can't, you're chained to this bed and she owns you now.

"Jiwoo, please!" You have no idea what you're begging for.

A hand reaches up and grasps the bars of the bed frame. Her face comes close. Mouth near your ear. Heavy breaths. Teeth on your jaw.

She releases the bar. The hand meets your face, smacking it. Hard. Pain explodes and your mind spins in agony and lust. Your hips drive up. You cum. Unprepared and powerful. An orgasm hits you so hard that you barely remember the words slipping past your lips—words of release, words of lust. Cum erupts from your dick, throbbing wildly into her. You're saying her name over and over. You're thankful.

You'd be a fool to think she would stop.

No.

In no way is Jiwoo finished with you, not yet. She keeps going, knowing what you can take. The whimpers of your sore cock within the walls of her hot, tight, wet cunt go ignored.

It doesn't matter if your cock is starting to go limp or your nerves are singing in pain, she keeps using you. Her hips bounce on yours, her breath and moans heavy and rough. Her body undulates in lust. Fuck, you're amazed by her beauty, her fire, her passion and her strength, even when you can no longer provide.

Then Jiwoo tosses her head back. Her back arches and tenses. Her skin prickles and her abs tighten. Through the stinging pain, you take pleasure in watching, watching her lose herself. Her sounds are guttural and grow louder as her fingers stroke her engorged clit in hurried, rough circles. Then it happens. She clenches and then nothing, there's no longer the need to move, to breathe or to live, only her orgasm courses through her, wave after wave as her screams and moans mix, you can't distinguish one from the other.

And when finally, the blissful agony has passed, her body collapses. Overheated skin rests against yours, slick with perspiration. For what feels like several minutes there are no words spoken. Nothing but rapid breaths and beating hearts. She doesn't let you slip out of her, not yet, she just lays upon you. Bodies and minds melt together.

Then there comes a whisper. A single word. While your cum begins to leak from her exhausted cunt. "Again."

You choke on your words, holding back your protest. She slowly rocks her hips, spurring your spent cock forcefully back to life and it's all you can do to obey. Hands bound and no choice left, you're forced to let her ride you to her heart's content. After all, everything she does is on her terms.

She keeps her movements slow, languid, barely moving above you. They're not as desperate. Jiwoo can see the way you grimace and takes twisted pleasure in watching the range of pained expressions as she teases. Maybe she will draw it out for another hour, maybe two, until finally she's finished with you, but you can never be certain, not until it ends.

She feels the way your body reacts. Through the oversensitivity of your soft cock re-awakening and regains stiffness as her wet cunt kneads up and down on it. Then Jiwoo sighs, low and heavy and her movements quicken. You know where this leads—more relentless fucking from her, more building up to another screaming orgasm, you tense in anticipation of the same torturous cycle all over again, ready for her to leave you sore and exhausted, only able to simply quiver and convulse under the continuing onslaught of her pleasure.

"Good boy."

#Jiwoo smut #TripleS smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Jiwoo x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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witchofhimring · 1 year ago

Text

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and claiming Cannibal

This is sort of an offshoot of my Being the Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen where Reader claims Cannibal instead of Tessarion. Thanks to @katiekatluvz for giving me the idea! Sorry for the long wait I finally have time to write after exams!

Minor Rhaenyra x Reader (platonic)

This happens before Aemond looses his eye.

This was dangerous, possibly suicidal. But after Aegon's comments earlier you could not take it anymore. It was another forced family gathering where Viserys tried to get his eldest child's family to sit with his second wive's. Things started out okay, there was eating and the occasional conversation. You were merely concentrating on just finishing your meal and getting the hell out. Everything fell apart, with it simple being an innocent comment made by Helaena. She had simply said; "When will you get a dragon Y/n?" Oh poor Helaena. She had meant well but of course Aegon had to stick his nose in matters not his own. "Maybe you would like a pig. Call it the pink dread." Aegon threw you a nasty look. Face heating, you shyly looked down, avoiding his gaze. Of course Aegon would find it funny to make fun of other peoples misfortune. "Shove off." Jaecery's snarled at Aegon. Aegon was not done, even when you had gone back to eating. "I guess one day you shall have a dragon. After all, you are a very strong girl." A thick blanket of tension blanketed the door. Everyone, even those at the other end, heard. Helaena's breath hitched, a low exasperated sound escaped Alicent. Aemond snorted. Your cheeks burned with hurt and shame. "Some of us burn hotter than others." Aemond added.

A fist slammed on the table. Visery's, despite being well past his prime, struck the table with enough force that it quivered. Even your mother, normally so vocal, had fallen silent. "You will not utter such slanders in this house." He snarled. At that moment Visery's did not remotely look like the loving grandfather you knew. Visery's glanced at his wife before ordering Aegon to his study. Hanging your head, you ran out of the room, ignoring your mother's cries.

Your door was locked, barring anyone from entering. Even your beloved mother. As the hour grew late there was silence outside. Night did nothing to calm the raging heat in your heart. Of course Aegon thought he was better, riding on oh-so-great Sunfyre and his silver Targaryen hair. And who was Aemond to laugh at you! He didn't have a dragon either!

Here you were, deprived of Targaryen looks and dragonless. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Outside a roar echoed across the water. Wiping the remaining tears you opened the window. A gust of wind nearly blew you back. Bellow the sea surrounding Driftmark thundered, crashing against rocks. Far ahead was a great black lump, so dark that even against the sky it was easily seen. You would have thought it was Vhaegar except that Laena and Daemon were in Pentos. Beyond a stretch of sand were the dragon caves. If one exited the gaves and ran across the sand they could reach the dragons. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were snoozing in their cave. Vermithor and Silverwing were back at Kingslanding. There were others, of course. You entertained the idea it might be Meyles until the dragon roared once more. It's screech was nothing like you had heard. It sounded like metal being scrapped together. Yet instead of being afraid, an idea came.

Any sane person would have thought twice. Then again, Targaryens were not exactly known for their sanity. Waiting till the early morning, you slipped out. When the sun was just pocking over the horizon that Driftmark was quietest. The guards would be tired and few would be up. Down the halls you slunk, nearing the exit. There was a small side door leading to stairs. These stairs took one right down to the courtyard. Passing a pair of sleepy guards you slipped behind a pair of barrels. Now it was just down the steps. That was when you heard a noise.

A familiar drawl could be heard. Great. Aegon was awake. Quickly you ducked behind a pair of barrels by the door. He stumbled inside and right past you. "I should have kicked him." Once he was gone you looked left and right. Then came the hard part.

The court yard was empty. Not even your father Laenor would be out training. Beyond was the gate, with two guards standing sentry. If you could slip past them, and across the sand, then you could take a small passage that lead to the dragon cave.

It was down to luck. The guards would need to be distracted for long enough. Fortunately, there was luck on your side. The walls supporting the gate were made of stone. And they just so happened to be uneven pieces of stone. Meaning all you had to do was climb up. The guards were so focused on the other side that you could get up without being spotted. Small hands grasped the rocks and you climbed. It occurred to you at that moment wearing a nightgown was likely not a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.

The salty air whipped your hair. Reaching the top you had a view of the caves beyond. There were soldiers guarding but none were looking up. There were four you could see. And now that you had reached the top there was yet another problem. You had no plan other than wait and hope. It was poor planning strategy. Though in your defense you were ten. The sun was rising higher in the sky. Would you even be able to sneak out!?

"Change!" A call nearly caused you to jump up. Looking over the side you saw the guards marching away. Taking the chance you jumped down. The force in which your feet hit the ground made them sting. "Hey!" To your horror you saw guards rushing toward. Shit. Taking a deep breath you plucked up the courage and ran. Having a head start helped. But these were full grown men, and running in sand was hard. The only thing on your side was that they were covered in armor. It meant you were able to reach the dragon cave that remained unguarded. It was was left unguarded for a reason. Because none would ever dream of challenging The Cannibal. For a moment you looked at the dark passage, and then looked back. You could hear them calling out. "I've come this far." And with that, you headed in.

The first few steps plunged you into pitch black. The air tasted stale and the rocks threatened to rip open your feet. Most dragon caves were well maintained, but even dragon-keepers would not dare go near this one. A few steps later and a few crack in the walls gave light. Step by step you walked forward. Now you could smell it and it nearly made you gag. But you had come so far that to turn back now was not an option. You heard a deep rumbling and stopped. Even the foundations of this cave seemed to hum. When the noise stopped you proceeded. Ahead you saw the tunnel end. Finally you met The Cannibal.

Despite the dragons infamy few could describe it. In fact many did not survive such an encounter. And it was enormous. Only slightly smaller that Vhagar, The Cannibal turned his head and mad poisonous green eyes met yours. Dragon eyes had always fascinated you. They held this terrifying imperious gaze. But when you looked into The Cannibal's all you saw was a wild raging fire. You had heard of Wildfire, created by the lords of Old Valyria to mimic dragon fire. While you had never seen wild fire, you thought his eyes might be close enough. Dragon scales came in all colours, but black was rare. The only other dragon known to possess such a colour was Balerion the Black Dread. Smooth pitch black scales glistened in the sunlight. His great jaw had uncountable razor sharp teeth larger than you. The large tale swung around and The Cannibals body was facing you. Then he opened his mouth and fire curled at the throat.

"I will die." In that moment you felt fear and rage. You were as good as the rest of them. Why should you not have a dragon! “Dohaerās, Cannibal! Lykirī!” Those were the only words you could say. Something akin to fire swelled within you at that moment. A defiance bordering on madness. The fire in The Cannibal's seemed ready to burst forward. "Lykirī!" You thought those would be your last words. It was not fear you felt in that moment, but the desire to prove something "At least I tried, like a true Targaryen." The blast of white hot flame which would encase and disintegrate your body never came. Your eyes met his. The Cannibal was looking down at you with his imperious glance. Was he not going to burn you?

That was when you heard voices. It seemed the guards had decided to go in. Better to perish in dragon fire than whatever your mother might do to them for failing to protect her only daughter. Then you stepped forward. Now was not the time to be afraid. Already you had braved possible dragon fire. Over rock and bits of bone you stepped, ignoring the stinging in your feet. From The Cannibal was a ladder attached to a harness. "So The Cannibal once had a rider." At that moment you did not ponder too much. They said The Cannibal had never been ridden before. But since his very being was a mystery you supposed it was possible.

Scrambling up the rough ropes you desperately hurried to the top. "There she is! She's...she's on the dragon!" The Cannibal jerked back nearly sending you flying off. "Daor!" You ordered loud as possible. To your astonishment the dragon listened. Reaching the top you fastened the harness, securing you in place. The Cannibal seemed to know what you wanted, for the moment you were settled the dragon gave a great huff and speed down the corridor. Every jut of his muscle sent you roughly inching forward. "This is much more uncomfortable than I thought." You always imagined dragon riding as a smooth ride. But now you realized that was untrue. Then what would flying be like? You barely had any time to comprehend anything before sunlight was visible. The Cannibal then picked up speed. Suddenly The Cannibal launched into the air with a great jerk. Had you not been harnessed in you would have fallen. His leathery wing beat the air as the ground became smaller.

You would have smiled if it had not been for the fact your voice has disappeared. The thrill, terror and excitement nearly paralyzed you. The Cannibal was not going up smoothly. The dragon seemed to be doing his best in order to shake you off. Despite this the harness was well made, and thank the gods. You had just enough sense to seize the reins and pull at them. It did nothing to slow The Cannibal down but you were suddenly possessed with a renewal in courage. Sitting straight in your saddle there was suddenly a level of control you felt. The Cannibal must have felt it, for he leveled himself. Soaring above the clouds you finally looked down. "We really are close to the Gods." You muttered.

You flew several laps in the sky. It was less about commands and more about the connection between dragon and rider. You had to remain in control of your emotions. Not being used to dragon riding, your legs started to cramp. Deciding it was time to descend you ordered The Cannibal down. Surprisingly graceful, The Cannibal started to climb down. His cave became more clear. A crowd was gathering outside of the cave. You were not too surprised since they probably thought you dead. With a great thud The Cannibal landed sending sand into the air.

"Y/n!" You had never heard your mother scream like that. Practically leaping off the rope ladder you flew into your mothers arms. "Oh Gods Y/n!" Rhaenyra clutched you close with shaking arms. You mother who was usually so indomitable and strong was shaking and weeping. Her arms held you in a vise grip. "Y/n...never do that again!" Rhaenyra had broken apart, gripping you by the arms. Normally you would bust into tears and apologize. But a fire was ablaze in your chest was burning bright. Taking your mother by the hand you lead her to The Cannibal. Rhaenyra looked hesitant but seeing your determination encouraged her. Reaching out you placed a hand on The Cannibals warm scales. "Touch him." Rhaenyra's fingertips grazed the dragon. Then she steadied and placed her hand directly on the dragon. The Cannibal crooned and for the first time seemed something close to calm.

Looking back you saw your brothers, aunt and uncles. There was pride such as you had never seen on your brother's faces. Your eyes met Aegon's and Aemond's, for the first time you did not look away. This time it was them who looked away from your defiant eyes. You were Y/n Velaryon. Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rider of Cannibal. And fire dwelt within your veins like any blood of the dragon.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Taglist:

@katiekatluvz

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader imagine #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader

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lokigodofmyheart · 9 months ago

Text

DATE NIGHT

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Summary: Y/N and Tony go out on a date night and he has a little surpise for her.

Warning/Content: smut, toys, public vibrator.

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Tony looked at his watch while he sat in the living room waiting for his girlfriend. Y/N was getting ready for their date night. It had been almost and hours and he got ready in less than 20 minutes. He looked at his wristwatch again with a little annoyance "C'mon, Y/N. How much longer do you need?"

From the bedroom, she heard his complaining and rolled her eyes as she had just finished applying the red lipstick. She gave a last check in the mirror, seeing the little black dress hugging her body, she was happy with the image and left the bedroom, walking to where Tony was waiting her.

Stark’s jaw slightly dropped, his eyes trailing up and down his girlfriend. He was practically drooling at the sight of her in the new outfit. He stood up from the couch and walked to her "You look... absolutely stunning, babe..."

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled and looked at him, dressed in a nice suit and gave him light kiss to not ruin her lipstick “You’re not so bad yourself. Ready to go?”

"Absolutely. But I have something for you first." Tony said cheeky smile.

She knew pretty well that expression on his face and it made her suspicious “What is it?”

He grins, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little box, opening and taking out a small pink vibrator. Y/N raises an eyebrow, looking at the toy and back at him. Stark chuckled lightly at the confused look on her face "It's a remote-controlled toy."

Oh. She finally understood “And you want me to wear this tonight...?”

Tony smirks while he nodding slowly, leaning in to whisper in her ear "I want to see you try to keep a straight face during dinner, darling."

A shiver run down her spine at his words and as the image that went through her head. Stark noticed the reaction she had and he was more than pleasured "Are you up to this, baby?"

Y/N gave a slow nod. Tony reach under her dress, pulling her panties aside and rubbing the toy on her folds, before slowly inserting into her. A small gasp left her lips at the feeling of the toy inside her. Tony fixed her panties back on, slipping the control on his pocked “All good, sweetheart. Let's go."

They headed out to the car and got in, Tony starting it and pulling out into the road, a devilish smile on his face as he drove them to the restaurant. He helped her out, opening the door for her like a true gentleman and lead her inside to a table in the corner.

Tony took the menu, ordering her favorite and the best wine from the restaurant. The waiter was quick to bring them the wine and serve the couple. Tony and Y/N took a sip of it, enjoying the taste.

While they were waiting for their food, Tony's hand went to his pocket, fiddling with the remote and turning the toy on a low setting. Y/N gasp as the toy started to vibrate inside of her, almost chocking on the wine.

“A little warning would’ve been good.” She says, trying to keep her voice down and act naturally.

Stark chuckled, shrugging with a smirk "Where's the fun in that?" He turned the toy up a bit more, glancing at her to see her reaction. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This would not be an easy dinner. He kept the toy on the medium setting as they wait for a minute more while Y/N struggles to keep a composed face.

Soon the waiter brought out their food at the table. Stark thanked the waiter, Y/N gave a small smile, still trying to keep a neutral face, before Tony turned his attention back to Y/N, who was noticeably fidgeting in her chair. He turned the toy off while they eat.

The couple talked a little, Y/N a little relieved from the break, but now she could feel how her panties was starting to wet.

When they finished, the waiters took the plates off the table and Tony ordered desert. Stark gave Y/N a wink as the waiter walked away, turning the toy on again, this time on the highest setting.

A small gasp escaped her lips, not expecting that. He smirked, reaching for his wine glass and taking a drink to cover up the little smirk on his lips. “Are you okay, babe? You seem a little...hot."

Her mouth felt dry when she swallowed, trying to prevent a moan “I'm...fine...”

Tony hummed, turning the toy on and off a few times to tease her as he leaned in a bit and placed his chin on his hand “You sure? You look like you're about to come apart."

Y/N nods, closing her eyes to concentrated before opening it again to look at him. Stark chuckled, setting the toy on a low, constant vibration as he kept staring at her, enjoying her trying to keep it all together "You're doing so well, babe... I'm so proud of you..."

The waiter brings them their dessert, and Tony thanks him, his hand in his pocket, turning the toy up to a different setting. This time he didn’t turned off the little pink toy "Go on, baby...eat something. Wouldn't want you to lose your strength."

“Tony...” Her voice almost sounded like a low moan “I can’t...”

Stark grins, enjoying the whine as he looks at her, still playing with the toy. He motions to the food in front of her with his hand. "Eat something, babe. C’mon.."

Y/N struggled to eat the small desert in front of her. She was sure she was squirming in the chair, rubbing her legs together as the thing kept vibrating on her. Stark had that damn smirk on his face the whole time, enjoying the way she was struggling to eat and to keep quiet. By the time they had finished dessert he decided to turn off the toy, wanting to make her wait a bit longer before he brought it back on.

A complaining whine left her lips as she was too close to her orgasm, but she was also relieved “I think we can go home now...”

Tony shakes her head and chuckles slight “Not yet, baby...I still want to finish the wine.” Stark motions for the waiter to refill his glass. A few moments later the glasses are refilled and the waiter leaves them alone. Again, he turned on the toy.

A small moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. Y/N was too worked up now and she was sure her panties were drenched.

Stark heard the small moan and grinned “Be careful, sweetheart...wouldn't want you to make a scene...”

“Tony...” She didn’t know if she was complaining or moaning his name anymore, everything feeling too much after being tease with that vibrator for almost an hour now with no release and no possibility to moan.

He smirked, looking around to see the other patrons in the restaurant were too busy with their own meals to pay them any mind. He leaned in close to her again, the toy still vibrating against her "Are you close, babe? You look close..."

She could only nods while she bites her lower lip, preventing any sound from coming out of her mouth. Tony noticed how much she was trying to hold it together and he could also tell it was getting harder and more difficult for her "Are you gonna come for me, babe?"

Her eyes started to roll back and she closes it. Stark smirked again while he turned the toy up the slightest bit more, while his hand moves up her thigh "That's it, baby... come for me, right here in the middle of this restaurant."

The way her breathing was becoming more and more labored showed him she was close. Y/N's face contorted in pleasure and she was thankful she had her back to most people in there. A small moan leaving her lips as the toy finally made her reach her orgasm while in the restaurant.

Stark was satisfied, and also somewhat hard, seeing her face as she came and hearing the moan she let out. He turned the toy off after the fact, just watching her with a grin as the wave of her orgasm passed through her in the middle of the restaurant. He finally signed to the waiter to brings them the check.

While Tony was paying, she almost drank her glass at once after her orgasm subside. Stark set the money down and thanked the waiter, standing up and holding his hand out to her "C'mon, baby. Let's go home."

Once they were out of the restaurant and at the car, Tony opened the door for her and let her sit down before he went around and got in on the driver's side. He started the car up and started driving, keeping one of his hands on her thigh as he did so.

Y/N watches as he drove, a comfortable silence settling between them. She wanted to get back at him somehow, just a small tease, so her hand went to the bulge on his pants, rubbing her hand against him through the fabric of his pants.

Tony was surprised when he felt her hand on his bulge, letting out a small gasp at the feeling of her touching him “Y-Y/N...we're still in the car...”

“So?” She looks at him innocently while she still teased him slowly.

A quiet moan was heard from Tony, his gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tried to focus on driving while she continued teasing him "F-Fuck... baby... we're almost at the penthouse..." Stark was struggling to focus, trying to drive as fast he safely could to get them to his penthouse. He bit his lip every time he felt her hand move and he almost let out moan every time she gave a squeeze.

After what feels like forever to the billionaire, finally he pulled up to the penthouse and parked, shifting his legs to adjust his now-noticeably-tighter-pants. He glanced at her, noticing the smirk on her face and the way her hand was still on his bulge. He groaned when she rubbed it again before he spoke "Inside. Now."

This time, she didn’t wait for him to open the door. They exit his car and Stark practically shoved her into the elevator and slammed the button to the top floor, barely able to wait the few seconds it went up.

Once they were at the penthouse, he didn't waste any time before pulling her body to him and kissed her. She kissed him back, the kiss being messy and full of lust. Soon she was pushing his suit jacket off him, throwing somewhere in the ground. His hands went down to the hem of her dress, lifting it up above her hips as he walked her to his room, without breaking the kiss.

There was a trail of clothes from the living room to his bedroom: jacked, shirt, dress, pants, shoes, heels, socks. Until they finally hit the bed, with only their underwear on their bodies.

Stark breaks the kiss and takes in the view of her in her black set of lingerie, his breath getting caught in his throat as he sees her "God, you look absolutely perfect, babe." He pushes her back gently onto the bed, crawling on top of her and beginning to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her bare body, tracing the lace on her bra.

Y/N’s hands were on his hair and his neck, teasing him with her nails. Stark continues to leave kisses down her neck, moving down to her chest. He opened her bra before he slides the straps off her shoulders, moving to kiss her breasts.

She moans slightly feeling his tongue circling her nipple and his mouth sucking it, before he did the same with the other. He kept kissing down her body while his fingers traced the lace of her panties. She lifts her hips to help him take it off, eager for more.

Tony chuckled at the eagerness, moving off her for a moment so he could slide the panties off, removing them and throwing them somewhere in the room. He spread her legs, the pink toy still there.

He pulled the toy slightly off her before pushing in again, making Y/N moan. Stark grins, doing it again, pulling the toy in and out painfully slow.

“Tony...” She moans his name, as he did it again.

He chuckles, looking at her as he continued his slow pace with the toy "Yeah, baby? What is it?" moans his name,

"Stop...teasing...”

Stark stop, but he kept holding the toy still inside of her "It's not even on..."

Another moan came from her lips “Please...I need you...”

He pulled the toy out completely, pulling his boxers down and moving his body above her, settling between her legs. His hands roam over her body, feeling her soft skin under his touch. He looks into her eyes with a smirk, and she can feel his hard cock pressed up against her "Is this what you need, baby?"

“Yes.” The work came out as a breathless whisper from her lips. He leans down to kiss her, his body resting on top of hers.

One of his hands moves down to position himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip against her wetness, making her moan against his lips. He smirked hearing it. After a moment of teasing her, he slowly slid himself inside her, his hands on either side of her head to support his height.

She moans, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open, because the look on his face was too hot. Stark closed his eyes when he bottomed out inside her, letting out a low groan while his lips were parted.

He opens his eyes, looking down at her face with a smirk. He slowly pulled all the way out, before pushing back in, starting a slow pace. Y/N moaned at each thrusting, their eyes locked.

Tony started to speed up his pace, wanting to hear her more and more. One of his hands moved to grip her thigh, giving it a squeeze as he adjusted to go faster. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her as he did so.

Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, making him reach deeper in this new position. It felt so good as his cock was going faster and hard on her. It didn’t take long for her to start tightening slightly around him, feeling her orgasm approaching.

“Tony...”

The way she clenched around him almost made his eyes roll to the back of his head, a groan escaping his lips at the feeling and at the sound of his name on her lips "Fuck..."

His thrusts started to get sloppy and harder. He was close too. It barely took Y/N a few more seconds before she came, her walls clenching around his cock as his name came out of her lips in the most sinful way.

Feeling her tighten around him, combined with the way she was saying his name...it’s all it took for Tony to finally cum, spilling his warm seed inside of her.

Y/N looked at him, with a tired and satisfied smile as she tried to catch her breath back. Tony smiled down at her, before pulling out of her and rolling over to the side, pulling her into his arms.

Stark pulled the sheets up over them to cover their bodies as he held her close and kissed the top of her head, his hand rubbing up and down her back "I love you."

“I love you more.” She smiles, looking at him as her body relaxed even more.

He smiled back, moving his hand to brush some of her hair out of her face "That's not possible. I pretty sure I win at loving you more." Y/N chuckled softly, knowing it was no use to argue over this, he would always win. He chuckled back, enjoying the way she laughed as he ran his hand through her hair. It was quiet for a few moments, both of them just enjoying each other's presence before he spoke again "Did you like the toy? At the restaurant?"

She nods “It was...interesting.”

"That's a good way to describe it...” He paused, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms for a moment and tracing figures on her back with his fingers before speaking again. "Would you...want to do it again in public sometime?"

“Yeah, why not?” She smirks slightly “Maybe next time I’ll tease you.”

Tony chuckled at that, liking the idea of her teasing him in a public place "Sounds like a plan, darling."

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark smut #tony stark imagine #anthony stark #iron man x reader #iron man #iron man x you #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #smut #iron man smut #avengers smut

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dumbbbg · 3 months ago

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F O R Y O U 3

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!reader (Later will turn into Unburnt Vader x rebel! reader)

Full series

Previous chapter - 2

Next Chapter - 4

Warnings (For the whole series): noncon, dubcon, dom/sub dynamics (basically filth)

Warnings (for this chapter): Noncon spanking. Anakin being scary. Anakin being possessive.

Anakin's eyes dragged over your body. You were wearing tiny pyjamas. Your nipples were poking through the white cloth. Anakin clenched his jaw to stop himself from bending you over instantly. No. He was going to take his sweet time. He was going to ease you into his depravity.

He walked closer. You were frozen in shock, but flinched away as he moved. You ran to the door, your terror not allowing you to stand still, but his one large arm wrapped around your waist and turned you, pressing your back to his front. You were facing the mirror, and you gasped in horror as you saw the giant man behind you, his arm wrapped like a statue's, and his eyes yellow.

Completely yellow.

A groan went through his body as you struggled, unconsciously rubbing his hard cock on your back. "You're so weak, little one. It fucking kills me."

"Wait, master- w-what are you doing-"

He chuckled and let you go, turning you around. "Calm down, padawan. I'm your master, not a Sith lord who is here to corrupt a pure little Jedi."

He sat on the edge of your bed, a smile still on his face. "I told you I was going to come get you for dinner, did I not?"

"Y-yes, but you didn't knock-"

"I am your Master," he interrupted. "Were you doing something a padawan shouldn't?"

"No, not at all-"

"Then you should not have a problem with this." He stood, looking down at you. "You knew I was coming, yet you're dressed like this." He sighed, as if disappointed. His large hand grabbed your shoulder, and before you knew it, he was sitting down on a chair with you bent over his lap.

You frozen, head spinning for a moment. Wait, what was happening?

"M-master-"

"If you're going to act like a brat who can't even dress herself, I am going to treat you like one." Calm voice. Dark voice. It had deepened, and he chuckled as your body jerked with panic, struggling in his hold. He was not even using his hands to keep you still, he was using the Force. And your Force could never counter with his, not matter how much you tried.

Before you knew it, his hand (thankfully the human one), raised and slapped against your half naked ass. You screamed, biting into your fingers, tears instantly spilling out. "S-stop-"

"Take your punishment," he ordered, voice booming in your room - your safe heaven distroyed by his presence.

Your small hands grabbed his thighs, trying to lift yourself up.

But every bit of strength left you and his hand came down again, redenning your flesh, making it burn with pain. Maker, you could feel the handprint. You sobbed, hands trembling, legs sluggishly kicking.

He chuckled. You felt something hard pocking your stomach. You gasped for breath, now desperate.

"P-please," you begged. "M-master-" You couldn't stop whimpering. "I-it hurts-"

"I know it does." He petted your head, so condescending. "You should be happy you have such an...involved master, padawan. I will give you just ten. You can cry all you want, but under my care, I will do whatever the fuck I want to you. You chose this, remember."

Your cries echoed in the room as his hand rained down again and again, sometimes stopping to shush you gently, other times just petting your head and ass as if you were a pet. When he was done, he let you lay there, crying, as he rubbed your back.

You felt lightheaded. You couldn't belive he did this. You'd tell someone. You had to. But who? Obi-Wan? Would he listen?

Would anyone listen to anything against the Chosen One? Would anyone listen to a little Padawan going against her master?

Anakin picked you up and sat you down on his lap, chuckling again as you cried out.

His mechanical hand cupped your face and wiped your tears. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, and his yellow eyes looks into your teary, red ones.

"Are you sorry?"

You stay quiet, gasping for breath.

"Well, I suppose you have'nt had enough."

Tears spilled out instantly. "N-no, please, m-master. I am sorry! I-I am so sorry f-for being a bad p-padawan-"

Anakin smirked and his lips pressed against your cheek. "Good girl." He picked you up and set you on your bed. "Stay here. I will bring us something to eat. Dare leave the bed and I was make what happened just now a fuckinf fairytale, yes?"

All you could do was fearfully nod.

. . .

It was a nightmare. To go to the cafeteria, to sit down with the other padawans, to eat, all while your ass burned with the pain your master had given you. The master who was sitting with Obi-Wan and smirking like he had done nothing wrong. He hadn't looked at you even once, and that somehow intensified the humiliation.

You knew with certainty that this could not be normal. No masted did this, much less to a grown-up Padawan. Your utensils shook in your hand, and you avoided everyone's eyes, even when they tried to talk to you. Most of them probably figured you must have had a hard mission. So many of them were jealous of you, continuously asking what Anakin was teaching you.

After the breakfast, Master Kenobi approached you with his gentle smile. "Are you feeling alright, padawan? You looked a bit tired. I hope Anakin is not being cruel to you."

You hesitated. He is, you wanted to say. Please stop him. I am terrified. He has everyone fooled. He has you fooled!

But Anakin, for the first time that day, looked at you. His smile stayed in place, and only his head titled slightly as he stared from the corner of the cafeteria where he was talking to some of the other masters. That was enough for you to freeze and nod rapidly towards Master Kenobi.

"I-I am fine, master. Just didn't get much sleep."

He smiled again, putting a hand on your shoulder. You'd didn't see, but Anakin's eyes burned at the sight.

"Take care. You know where to find me if you need me, yes?"

You nodded and he walked away, squeezing your shoulder gently.

Your master approached you, taking his long, casual steps, his hands in the pockets of his robes. He tilted his head down, looking you in the eye. "We have a mission, little one. Let go."

"W-where?"

He just smirked. "No unnecessary questions, padawan."

. . .

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader #darth vader #darth vader smut #star wars anakin #unburnt vader #yandere smut #star wars #star wars smut

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

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Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy Characters: Toffee of Septarsis, Bill Cipher, and Lord Hater Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: Much like with my Vivziepop pieces, I will have the species of the reader underneath their header images. I had no ideas for HIM since I couldn't find a good connection for a reader and him in the relation to the girls context. I hope you do like this first creation of mine! Have great rests of your nights/days!

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Mewman! Reader ; Big Sibling of Moon Butterfly and Aunt of Star Butterfly

☄️ As the eldest child of Queen Comet Butterfly and Count Lazlo Marmalade of Lushreach, you were always held into high regards when it came to political affairs

☄️ While your parents mainly handled the more detailed affairs, you would watch over Moon as she aged. From looking over her when she was a toddler till when she grew old enough to organize herself into the many issues your kingdom faced

☄️ During those many years, you had held her hand throughout every single hardship that came her way. And you planned to hold her hand throughout this war that the Mewmans and Monsters faced

☄️ And even during these kind of dire situations, you always stayed strong to your family. But, when your mother and father decided to pass you up for your sister, saying she would fit better as the ruler, you snapped

☄️ You knew the only reason they chose her was because she was more like them; close minded on Monsters and Mewmans regaining trust in one another. While you were far more accepting and willing to work with the Monsters

☄️ Jumbling up all your stuff and jumped down from your room's window before sliding and sneaking outside with expect parkour practice, you landed by the woods and looked back at your sister's window, seeing the light turn off

" I am so sorry, Moon... but I cannot stay in such a corrupted land any longer... "

☄️ During your expedition to find some kind of Monster civilization, you had dodged many forced from your kingdom, each speaking of how your family needed you back home, much to your annoyance

☄️ It was during this travel that you came across an injured Septarsis, one that you learned the name of, Toffee. And, during your many years of living alongside one another, you shared your life stories, from your childhoods to your wishes, it was all out in the open to show your trust

☄️ Toffee wasn't very big on the royal family, viewing the abuse of power they held as illogical, and eventually viewing the magic they hold as overkill. But, for some weird reason, you didn't bother him

☄️ And he had to admit, watching the little offspring of his enemy Moon Butterfly look at you in shock as she tried fighting her blood made him smirk

" Uhm- Toffee? Why are you smiling at this? Isn't Y/N supposed to be just grabbing the wand and coming back here? " " Oh, you'll understand in a few seconds... "

☄️ Star was trying not to harm you, sending minor spells at you, trying to just knock you on your butt so she could just ask you why you had left and why you were siding with Ludo and the rest of his gang

☄️ Once she did, she was shocked to see that the markings on your cheeks, the ones that matched your mother's, but they were faded and covered with thin-lined x's

☄️ You then burst up and kicked the young girl away, bidding farewell as you pocked your cheek and stuck your tongue out mockingly before winking at where the camera laid for Toffee and the forces to see

" I-Is she...? " " I told you. You would find out soon... now! Y/N, I would like to congratulate you on retrieving such an important tool; Star's mistrust of her mother. Good job, my royal. "

☄️ Smirking at your husband, you pecked his cheek and looked at the boys as you handed Ludo a small portion of magic sealed from Star's wand, and just this amount would be good for now

☄️ Toffee then looked at your marks, which slightly glowed with magic... how troublesome could it be if that little brat got to your mind? He didn't want to even think of that...

Human! Reader ; Older Cousin of Dipper and Mabel Pines (Early-30s)

👁️ Being only a baby when the incident occurred between your father, Stanford Pines, and your uncle, Stanley Pines, you had often questioned the point of why there were so many weird things happening in your small town

👁️ Gravity Falls always had small details that made no sense to you, and as you grew up being raised by your money-obsessed uncle, you had written these things down in a journal that you had numbered 4 with a hand-print that, by what your uncle said, was your father's

👁️ You always had these small visions growing up, from seeing some kind of weird gnomes around the woods to seeing a kind of large minotaurs (which were supposedly called 'MAN-otaurs for some reason?)

👁️ But none of those compared to the small triangle man that appeared in your dreams and would mess around with you from time to time as you grew older

👁️ And, when your little cousins, Dipper and Mabel Pines, had come by to spend the summer at the Mystery Shack with you and your uncle, these visions seemed to happen more often and get more and more vivid

👁️ This 'demon' has you labeled him, had been caught by you staring at your cousins as they slept for weeks, and because of the worry you felt for the two, you began to lose sleep, alarming your family and friends

👁️ Eventually, after being scolded by Stanley and having been forced by Mabel and Wendy to lay down for at least a couple hours, you had fallen into a deep rest as Mabel's pig, Waddles, laid beside you

👁️ You had awoken inside of a dark field, one that you had been in multiple times beforehand, and hearing the very light-sounding maniacal laughter of a triangle demon you called a 'friend', you turned around

👁️ A flaming yellow triangle appeared and allowed the 'one-eyed Dorito' as you called him to be summoned

👁️ He adjusted his bowtie and floated with his cane leaning against literal air as you groaned and motioned for him to come nearby, making him laugh and ask if you missed him

" Oh, I didn't miss you par say... I just missed doing THIS! "

👁️ Wrapping your arms around his frame you wrestled the three-sided demon into the grass and made him laugh at your actions, his arms and legs flaying about to try swatting you away without any use of his powers

👁️ Once you finally stopped wrestling the demon, or rather, stopped wrestling Bill, he had popped his hat of his head and began to ask you the questions you always said you had no comment on

" So, about the two flesh-bags your related too. " " You mean my cousins? Dipper and Mabel? " " Yeah! Pine Tree and Shooting Star! They've been getting far too close to my plans, and you know what happens to those who get too close. They go- "

👁️ Holding his palm up to the sky, he made a small figurine of an unknown man before lifting his opposite hand and smashing it, making a paint-like substance flay onto yours and his 'faces'

" SPLAT! And, I know how much you care about those life-forms. Now, since your father and uncle aren't in my reach anymore, I figured that you could talk to them about maybe taking a couple days off from monster-hunting, y'know, and allow me to work on this more~ " " Bill. We've talked about this once and we've talked about it a million times- " " Actually more like 7, but go on... " " A million times. Anyone with a somewhat functioning brain like Old Man McGucket's can notice how stubborn they- well, Dipper is on unraveling this town. It'd take a miracle to show him enough to get him to back away from his mission. " " Yeah, a miracle. Interesting point, human. "

👁️ Cocking an eyebrow and holding your hand out as if to grab something, Bill narrowed and widened his one eye largely as a small cat with silver hair and yellow highlights appeared in your hands, obviously with one eye that's colors were opposite (white <--> black)

👁️ Smiling and petting the demonic-looking feline, you looked back at Bill and held the cat as he made a ball of yarn to play with the animal, underneath his eye a small pink flush growing

👁️ You were by-far the most entertaining human he had ever met- even if you were related to that traitorous man you had to call your father

Alien / Star-Nomad! Reader ; Wander's Older Sibling and Main Guardian

⚡ Your younger brother is a very energetic being, and if you were for certain, you'd call him the most energetic being in the whole Universe

⚡ You had spent most of your life watching over your brother as he and his friend, Sylvia, spread themselves around the many different worlds during their travels. With you being the one who had to get them out of many bad situations

⚡ But, a few years prior, you had given the two permission to travel on their own, meaning they could not afford to get into massive trouble since you wouldn't be there

⚡ They had been doing well as you traveled on your own, and during one of your more random leaps to another world, you had met a small eyeball with a tiny body who called himself 'Commander Peepers'

⚡ You had stared at the guy and cocked an eyebrow and heard a yell of Peeper's name, making you both look up in shock, though yours was hidden far better

" L-Lord Hater! To what do I owe the pleasure? " " You owe everything to this pleasure! Also, we're out of cheese dip. "

⚡ The cloaked man had looked up at you and lightly tilted his head before looking down at you and furrowing his eyebrows in both frustration and confusion

" Who is this, Peepers? " " I'm not sure myself, Sir. They had just appeared out of nowhere. " " You! Who are you?! " " I'm Y/N. Intergalactic Traveler. "

⚡ Lord Hater looked at you up and down, you looked like what the average Star-Nomad would appear, but you had a height advantage, maybe being a couple heads shorter than the Lord himself

⚡ You looked right back at him and scoffed lightly before asking him such a bold and broad question that not many would dare ask on that planet

" Why do you look like some kind of rock-emo with a deep voice? "

⚡ Commander Peepers looked at you in shock and back at Lord Hater, fear consuming his soul as he wondered one thing and one thing alone; How in the name of everything did you just ASK him that?!

⚡ Lord Hater began to chuckle and smirk at you, his skeleton eye glaring at you as they glowed lighter green in irritation

" Why do you look like some kind of wannabe villain? "

⚡ So, to sum it up, your first meeting wasn't the best one...

⚡ But, after a few more attempts to be civil to one another landed you a part as a new member of the Hater Army, your spot laying alongside Commander Peepers, though you were more of a spy than anything

⚡ And life was doing pretty well, you and Lord Hater had begun to court and try getting your traits to collide and mix well with your new lives together as Peepers had to keep you from snapping the hot-head's neck every week

⚡ When Wander, the brother that you had sent away, came back and found you alongside Lord Hater, his eyes sparkled; had you found someone that you loved like him?!

⚡ Sylvia and Hater do not get along at all, only putting up with one another for you and Wander, since they both knew how dear you guys were to one another

⚡ Commander Peepers and you always have to keep Hater from jumping up and trying to kill Wander for his antics, such as trying to play tag with him, resulting in you taking the day off and heading to a nearby planet

⚡ He and Wander see each other far differently

⚡ Wander adores your lover, whenever you ask him what he thinks of the Lord, he always laughs and gives you an honest and optimistic opinion as you smile and laugh at his small story of his last game with him

⚡ Hater on the other hand, does not share well things. Instead, it results in him whining about how annoying your younger brother was, and that turns into a sob story of a failed accomplishment, which led to him being curled in your lap with a large pink blanket around his frame

⚡ While they may not have the best bond, Hater can put up with your brother if it means you'll stay by his side. You're the best thing he had ever held to himself, alongside his planetary conquers of course!

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