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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

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*goes on my knees* THANK YOU

☾ .⭒˚ your fragrance ♡ rafayel x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: rafayel x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.4k (how?????)

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, 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

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: absolutely not necessary to watch this to enjoy the fic/smut but it gives a lot of context and also a visual for the fic <3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaxo4sxm0rc

☾ .⭒˚ 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.

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

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 cheels.

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.

taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

Text

AYO

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

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

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

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

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

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

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

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

“bruschetta, miss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“rafayel!” you reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, “what are you doing?!”

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

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

you feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, “what am i doing?”

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

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

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

he grumbles, thoroughly unamused, “you know that’s not what i mean.”

you sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, “i know, i’m sorry raf. this was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. it got out of control so fast.”

he continues with his pouty tirade. “it’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, “and i don’t even get to enjoy the only thing i want.”

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

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

“m’sorry raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, “i missed you too.”

he sighs dramatically, “i don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. especially when you look like this right across the room.”

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

“i knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, “but i thought i would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. and off you.”

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

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

sighing deeply and theatrically again, “how will you make it up to me? i only get one birthday a year, you know?”

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

“h-hey! what are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, “you feel so g-good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“m’gonna cum baby,” he warns, “you can take it all right? you can, you will.”

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

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

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

“that was incredible, you are incredible. i wasn’t too rough was i?” he inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you can feel rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. “raf?” you whisper, breathless with anticipation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his palm gently strikes your rear again, “i must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. in this galaxy.” he reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“r-raf,” you pant, “m’so close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, “sh-shit y/n, if you keep s-squeezing like that i’m gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you satisfied?” you tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs.

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

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

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

“you’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

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

–

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

he grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. and when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day.

tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

Text

ME LIKE MYSELF SOME MERMAID DI-

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun.

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side.

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?"

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?"

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean.

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?"

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me."

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny."

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?"

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze.

"Shut up and answer the question."

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts.

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?"

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it."

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?"

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done.

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—"

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it."

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce.

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel.

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious."

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?"

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?"

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips.

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours.

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?"

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land.

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence.

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence.

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?"

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat.

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way.

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him.

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest.

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks.

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart.

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him.

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail.

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch.

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard."

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me."

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier.

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling.

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in.

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out.

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you?

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you?

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first.

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is.

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you.

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists.

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.”

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew.

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.”

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation.

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed.

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down.

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!”

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves.

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close.

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence.

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock.

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?”

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.”

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!”

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?”

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones.

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home.

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?”

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water.

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave?

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.”

Wait… babies?

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back.

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need.

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch.

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.”

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds.

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue.

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body.

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—”

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt.

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!”

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.”

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen.

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw.

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on.

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open.

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted.

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?”

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?”

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!”

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.”

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love.

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment.

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one.

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water.

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia.

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?”

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength.

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.”

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear.

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips.

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would.

Rafayel… you whisper into the water.

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in.

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison.

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion.

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue.

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—”

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum.

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time.

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision.

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears.

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you.

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word.

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you.

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt.

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him.

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you.

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!”

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman.

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you.

“I want to… try it… here.”

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure.

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist.

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat.

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love.

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you.

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit.

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries.

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs.

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you.

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?”

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth.

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver.

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive.

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back.

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately.

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up.

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment.

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now?

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see.

That’s it. That’s my good girl.

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix.

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess.

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try.

All yours. Rafayel was all yours.

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin.

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him.

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close.

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?”

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock.

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail.

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan.

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?”

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in.

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever.

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness.

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales.

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again.

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean.

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth.

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again.

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded.

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb.

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot.

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast.

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows.

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly.

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you.

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean.

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?”

You fight back a smile.

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?”

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?”

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.”

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?”

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.”

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home.

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you.

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

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RAFAYEL BOYFRIEND TEXTS AND TWEETS

rafayel x gender neutral reader

established relationship, canon compliant setting

random texts and tweets

notes; in lightmode for once,, anyway my new obsession is this man so here y’all go

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

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REAL NA GUYS IM BACK FR

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

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SH 💫 [240306] Instagram Update #In-starhwa-gram "TOWORDS THE LIGHT 2"

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ms-indifferwnt · 1 month

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SH 💫 [240306] Instagram Update #In-starhwa-gram "TOWORDS THE LIGHT 2"

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ms-indifferwnt · 5 months

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Moonlight

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ms-indifferwnt · 5 months

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"Good morning, darling"

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ms-indifferwnt · 6 months

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To Shape a Home (6)

Autumn

Last chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bakugo x reader

Warnings: bad jokes lol

WC: 3.5K

a/n: openly exposing my fear of corn mazes. Or mazes in general actually. Anywhoo enjoy the fall activities. 💖

As it turns out you’re not that bad and accepting the fact that Katsuki is going to run into you every fucking where he goes in this town makes every day life a little more bearable. He’s been less on edge since the fishing incident, finding it much easier to speak to you without frustration boiling in his gut.

He’s even able to tolerate Denki’s whining about “not hearing from him in like a century dude!” Katsuki rolls his eyes, it was only a few months he avoided his other friends but only because they were so obsessed with you.

Still, you don’t seem to be plotting against him, or shoving your city life bullshit down everyone’s throat. In fact, you barely speak about yourself.

In conversation with the others, you're quiet and listening and when Eiji or Hanta try to ask you about your opinion, you quickly shift the attention back to them. So Katsuki learns things about you by watching you. Not that he’s trying to learn shit about you. But it’s hard not to notice.

Like how you have a thing for dumb ass jokes. You tell them to some of the kids in town and they laugh like it’s the funniest fucking thing they’ve ever heard. They’re really not. The jokes are stupid.

When Jodi, one of Katsuki’s most loyal customers who adores his tomatoes, stops by her son, Vincent bombards him with the jokes he’s heard from you.

“Hey Mr. Bakugo! Why did the tomato blush?” he asks excitedly. Katsuki raises an eyebrow as he loads a basket full of tomatoes for Jodi to take home.

“Hmm? Uhh I don’t know kid, why?” He says a little distracted.

“Because it saw the salad dressing!” he screams and laughs so hard he’s holding his belly.

Jodi only gives him an apologetic smile and mentions something about you telling him a new joke every time you come by to babysit. Katsuki frowns, you’re already so embedded in a lot of things in the town, he’s kind of envious. He didn’t know you were babysitting for Jodi, though he guesses it makes sense since you’re neighbors.

You’re also not bad at this painting thing. He’s picked up a lot of new skills in listening and watching you when you’re teaching. You’ve got weird little quirks, like how you write with your right hand but you paint with your left. Your shoulders are more relaxed and your sassy comments slip out on more than one occasion when the two of you are casually chatting.

Katsuki noticed that while attending one of the painting classes alone for once. Eiji was sick and had to cancel and Katsuki usually only goes to these things because Ei drags him along. The stupid painting shit does actually calm him. It feels the same as when he’s making new fishing lures, letting his thoughts turn off and focusing on his masterpiece. Plus, the shit is free and he doesn’t have to justify doing something he wants to do, especially to you.

He glares at you when he strolls into the room and sees the surprised “o” on your face fall into a smug grin.

“What? Just because Eiji gets sick and can’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t show up. I fucking signed up for this shit,” he pouts.

“I didn’t say anything!” you say in a squeaky high pitched tone.

“Ya didn’t have to. That dumb ass grin said it all,” he grumbles back.

You chuckle and hand him one of the brushes you know he likes. When he’s sitting on a stool toward the back of the room, he watches you glide around, smiling at people and reassuring them they’re doing great. While you work on your own painting, you squint and poke your tongue out like a toddler trying to tie his own shoe.

Something about trying to figure you out is amusing to him. It’s like he’s trying to find some reason to dislike you. That may make it easier not to get too attached. But the more he searches, the more he can’t find anything.

“Watching me won’t help you finish your painting,” you tease, appearing next to him seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yer the damn teacher right? Ain’t I supposed to be watchin’ what you do?” he mutters back, trying to hide the embarrassment he feels from being caught staring at you.

“You’re supposed to be creating your own experience and artwork with a little guidance from me.”

You lean down next to him to inspect his canvas. He can feel the heat radiating from you and can smell your sweet fragrance. This may be the closest you've ever been to him. Should he scoot away? Should he tell you to back off?

He does neither, instead he turns his head ever so slightly to look at the side of your face. He watches your eyes flit up and down the canvas, your eyelashes dust your cheeks when you blink. You’re so focused, but he can tell you’re completely enamored with your task.

“Your mountains are really nice. You’re good at seeing where the light will hit objects you’re painting,” you praise. The tips of his ears grow hot and he clears his throat loudly.

“Yeah well, turns out it ain’t so hard once ya get the hang of it,” he shakes off your compliment, shrugging a shoulder as if it’s no big deal. It isn’t a big deal, you praise everyone in the class, you’re just doing your job.

So his heart needs to quit goin’ nuts and fuckin’ relax.

The moon climbs overhead as a herd of townspeople make their way to townsquare. It’s a full moon, the moonbeams shine down brilliantly. The chill in the air sends a shiver up your spine and if not for the warm atmosphere of your friends surrounding you as you follow the crowd, you’d be freezing.

Eijirou, Denki, Hanta, and surprisingly Katsuki are with you, joking and talking excitedly about the events of the night. Well, all but one of them are laughing and joking. Katsuki stays quiet, as he always is when you’re with them.

He walks slightly behind you, hands shoved in his pockets and glaring at the ground. You'd thought the relationship— if you could even call it that—was getting better between the two of you. Apparently not as well as you thought. He’s always so tough to read. You never know if he’s in his normal grumpy mood or if he’s in the “grumpy but I’ll be cute and play fetch with your dog” mood. You sigh as something Eijirou says catches your attention.

“Yeah, there’s a new Haunted Maze at the Spirit’s Eve festival this year,“ he chats excitedly with Denki and Hanta.

You gulp, a haunted maze? That...does not sound like fun.

“A umm… a haunted maze?” you ask, falling in step with Eiji. He wraps an arm around your shoulder when he hears the nervousness in your tone.

“Don’t worry Darlin’. It ain’t that scary,” he says smiling.

Behind you, there’s stifling laughter and if you weren’t extremely nervous about the maze, you would’ve turned around and said something to the blonde. You press your lips in a tight line and continue toward town square.

The decorations are beautiful. There are pumpkins everywhere and it smells like freshly baked pies and cider. Gaslit lanterns hang from the poles in the square and cast a creepy yet comforting glow amongst the cobblestone.

Scarecrows and Jack-o-Lanterns hang from the trees and sit along the walkways as the bustling townsfolk saunter around in the cool night. The maze is straight ahead, a large hedge of grass that looks like a dark menacing wall. Stalks of corn peak over the top if it. Great, hedges and corn. You take a deep breath.

Immediately, you teeter on the edge of an anxiety attack. You could bite the bullet and tell the others you don’t want to go in the maze, but then you’re labeled a killjoy. Plus, it’s the first festival you’re attending since moving back. They were nice enough to invite you, you shouldn’t back out. Still the idea of being trapped and lost in the maze really makes your knees knock together in fright.

You’re humming a bit to yourself in line while Eiji and the others make bets about who will get out of the maze first. No, you got this. You’ll be fine. You’ve braved the subway at 1 Am and during rush hour. This will be a piece of cake. Everyone enters the maze one at a time. First, Denki, then Hanta, Eiji is in front of you and right before he enters he gives you a little wave and wink.

“See ya on the other side!”

That doesn’t sound foreboding. It can’t be that bad. A small town corn maze? Nothing to be worried about. You close your eyes and right as you’re about to take a shaky step into the maze, a deep grouchy voice behind you makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“S’matter with you?”

Katsuki. You’d completely forgotten he was there. When you whip around he’s staring at you with his arms crossed over his chest, a shit eating grin twitching at the corner of his lips.

You blink then frown and roll your eyes. “Nothing. Nothing, I'm just…getting ready…” you stammer gazing down the dark path again.

“You look scared shitless,” Katsuki scoffs and there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

“I’m not scared,” you fire back immediately. You’re almost afraid this will cause another argument like the one the two of you had in front of Toshi’s. All that progress trying to be friendly with him, down the drain.

“Sure look scared to me,” he huffs, turning away as if you aren’t his problem.

Shit. Why’s he watching you like this? He raises an eyebrow when you spin back around to glare at him.

“Well looks can be deceiving. I’m just… trying to think of a game plan,” you snap back.

He snorts and mutters “whatever” under his breath.

You stand at the entrance again, contemplating whether you should just call it quits. The “I told you so” grin that would plaster itself onto Katsuki’s face if you did leave, keeps your feet firmly planted in front of the entrance.

“Yer holdin’ up the line, idjit! I’ll just go in with ya.” He grasps your wrist and pulls you with him as he stomps into the maze. There’s no time to argue or pull out of his grasp before most of the light is hidden by the large stalks of corn and you both are only illuminated by the light from the moon.

You trip a bit over your feet as he drags you along, his grip on your wrist isn’t tight so you snatch away from him.

“What the hell, Katsuki!? I was gonna go in myse-”

A rustle in the stalks of corn stops your statement cold. You scan where the noise came from, peering into the night and praying for your eyes to adjust and make out whatever is making that rustling noise.

You scream and almost pee your pants when a bird flies out from the corn stalks, wings flapping loudly in your ears as it passes closely overhead. You don’t even notice you’re grasping or more so wrapping yourself around his side until he clears his throat and you quickly take three huge steps away from him and blush.

“Heh, still not scared?” And there it is, that “I told ya so” grin you were dreading.

You dust yourself off, smoothing your jeans and playing with one of the braids in your hair nervously.

“No. Just…corn just freaks me out,” you explain. It’s a stupid excuse and you curse yourself for not finding a wittier comeback.

“Corn…freaks you out? Bull shit, sweetheart.”

This is the second time he’s called you that. You’re not sure if you like it or not, but when he says it now, it’s exceptionally softer than when he said it back in front of Toshi’s. Your heart does a flip, why does it sound so different and comforting now?

“Shut-“ A scream in the distance makes you jump and again you grab his arm and close your eyes.

To your complete surprise and shock, he doesn’t pull away from you in disgust. He looks down at you clutching his arm, gives you a smug smile then mutters “Heh, I gotcha.”

Why’s he being so...nice? Should you ask him? Will that set him off? Maybe it’s best not to. Especially considering you have to get through this stupid maze now and he has forcibly made you his partner.

You gaze up at him blinking quickly, then pout your lips and look at your feet. “You lead the way,” you reply.

For a long time the two of you walk in complete silence, You still hold tight to his arm and he slows his pace to walk with you as you slowly make your way through it. There are scarecrows hanging ominously around each corner and the wind sometimes blows through the leaves of the crops and makes you think someone is walking through them. Katsuki stares straight ahead as he walks, every once in a while he’ll stop when you jump or tighten your grip on his arm and mutter a quick “S’alright, just the wind.”

He hasn’t led you into a dead end and soon you’re relaxed enough to trust that he’ll get you out of the maze. He’s walking slightly ahead of you and you’re grasping the back of his shirt while walking when he finally breaks the silence.

“Kinda makes sense that a city girl would be afraid of corn.”

Is he...trying to make a joke? He doesn’t chuckle or change his tone into a light hearted joking manner like any other person would. Though you think it’s a joke, there’s no harshness behind the words, you don’t even think he’s teasing you. He says it nonchalantly, as if you both talk like this on the regular.

“I’m not actually afraid of corn. It’s loud noises and the whole ‘getting lost and never being able to escape’ part of the maze that freaks me out,” you reply shrugging. If he’s gonna be nonchalant, you should match it. It’s the quickest way to move past this awkward phase you’ve been in.

He stops and peers at you over his shoulder. You stare at him, a bit guarded and on the defense. If he snaps at you, you’re ready. He stares for what seems like way too long, then swallows and turns away. There was something unrecognizable in his expression, his brows furrowed ever so slightly and you could’ve swore he looked a little sad.

“Makes sense,” he replies and continues walking.

“You’re good at these,” you offer, trying to steer the conversation in a new direction. However, when you trip slightly over your own feet and run face first into his back with an oof, you succeed in continuing to look like a damn doofus in front of him.

“Pft, and you ain’t,” he chuckles and again your heart does a little flip. He sounds relaxed and you don’t know why but that makes you happy. In the light of the moon, you see the hints of a smile on his face and it gives you pause. It really is dumb how handsome he is.

“Which means we make the perfect team,” you beam at him and wink, then wonder if maybe that might’ve been too much.

“Team? I’m the one leadin’ us through the damn thing. What are you doin’?” he snorts, pointing a finger at you. It’s close to the tip of your nose and for a second you think he’s going to playfully boop you.

You put a hand to your chest in mock offense. “I’m the cautious one! The one who pays attention to our surroundings and warns you of the danger!’

You pout again and this time he actually laughs. It’s not a long winded one and it only lasts about five seconds but still it makes you feel like you’ve won a prize for the night.

“Yeah cause a bird flying outta the corn is dangerous,” he teases, leaning his nose down to mock you.

You turn away from him, crossing your arms with your nose in the air. “Birds are little assholes. Plenty of people have been pecked to death.”

“That sounds like a fucked up story they’d put on the news to scare all the people in the city from comin’ out to the country,” Katsuki says laughing again and this time you laugh with him.

Your laughs die down as you both catch your breath and the silence is awkwardly filled with the crickets chirping. Katsuki clears his throat then.

“We should keep goin’ if ya wanna get outta this shit hole,” he says. You smile a little to yourself when he lifts his arm out for you to grab.

As you stroll with him, you’re extremely aware of how warm he is. He’s wearing a long sleeve shirt but you can still feel warmth radiating through it. He’s like your own personal space heater, cozy and—dare you say— safe. The muscles in his arm are hard and sometimes when walking he tenses up and then relaxes when you unconsciously squeeze his arm.

There’s a question you want to ask him but you’re afraid you’ll ruin this nice moment between the two of you. Before you can overthink it, the words come tumbling from your mouth like word vomit.

“So what are you afraid of?” you try to ask it casually like he did before, keeping your eyes straight ahead and hoping that it won’t upset him.

He doesn’t sound upset when he grunts back “nothin,” but you do feel his whole body tense up and the muscles in his arm harden under your grip.

Taking the non-explosion of his anger as a good sign, you press him a bit more.

“Well you just tensed up like you saw a ghost when I asked so it’s gotta be something,” you reply.

He keeps walking but his body doesn’t relax. He stays rigid and uncomfortable as he walks, glaring straight ahead without looking at you. You’re thankful for that because now you can analyze him.

His brows are knitted together in frustration, but for some reason you can tell he’s not frustrated with you. He’s far away from here, thinking about something, perhaps whatever it is he’s afraid of and whatever it is you can tell he’s seeing it clearly projected in his head.

You bite your lip nervously, this wasn’t what you wanted. You thought that maybe he’d say spiders or something. Maybe snakes, like Indiana Jones. Shit, it’s no wonder he thinks you’re annoying.

Desperate to help, you tug the sleeve of his shirt lightly. “Hey Katsuki, can you do me a favor?” you ask in a small voice.

“Hah?” He blinks quickly like he’s being broken out of a spell cast on him and looks down into your eyes in confusion.

“Squeeze my hand,” you request, pulling your arm out from under his and holding your hand out to him.

His eyes flicker between your hand and your eyes, as if he thinks you’ll play a trick on him. “What why?” he grumbles.

You smile warmly, hoping that the warmth in your eyes reaches him and he knows, he doesn’t have to be afraid if you’re here.

“So I know you’re still here with me,” you say simply.

He hesitates and stares into your eyes for a long time before he finally wraps his hand around yours and squeezes, not too hard. His hands are rough and calloused and slightly sweaty, but it’s so big around yours it almost covers it completely. He stares with an eyebrow raised as he continues to squeeze and when you squeeze twice he relaxes and his hand goes limp in your grasp.

Under the light of the full moon drifting across the sky, you and Katsuki stare into each other’s eyes. You can tell he’s thinking, maybe searching for something in your expression. You instead enjoy how the moon shines through his hair and how his eyes look a bit softer than they did when you first entered the maze.

When you don’t let go of his hand and intertwine your fingers with his, he intakes a sharp breath that you choose to ignore. He continues leading the way, hand-in-hand with you and very soon you’re at the end and can see the low lamp light of the exit. Right before you drop your hands at the exit you give his a little squeeze.

“Thanks for helping me through it.”

You flutter your lashes at him, warmth coursing through you and heating your cheeks. You don’t miss the way the tips of his ears go red when he turns and walks away from you, throwing a “yeah yeah” over his shoulder.

Thanks for reading!

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ms-indifferwnt · 6 months

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REREADING TIME

To Shape A Home (1)

Summer- Chapter 1

" Every summer has a story"

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: Talk of Grief, EraserMic, Nightmares,

WC: 6.2k

a/n: Hi hello. Ok so chapter 1 is here because I’m literally so fucking stupid and don’t know how to work Ao3 apparently. I accidentally posted a draft instead of saving it so here ya go ya get chapter one early haha. ANYWHOO this fic was a complete labor of love. I hope y’all enjoy the journey, that you fall hard for Katsu and that you can find a lil piece of yourself in reader! Please enjoy! 🥰

The bus ride is…bumpy. That’s a good word for it. No doubt the bumps are from the large tires crushing the gravel beneath them as the bus careens down the crop-bordered road. Your head knocks against the cool glass window and the soothing sounds of an acoustic guitar plays in the headphones jammed in your ears.

The note with extremely neat scrawled handwriting—he’s always had beautiful handwriting—sits tight in your grip. Your perfectly manicured fingers run over the words again trying to pull them from the page and hear them in your mind.

I leave it all, my pride and joy, to you, my little mouse.

The scenery is too green. There’s no variance of color, no flowers, just the light green leaves of random stalks of corn, and as the bus drives closer to its destination, the dark green of the trees in the forest. You suppose green is better than the dull gray of the buildings and concrete in the city. Still the green does seem particularly hopeless.

But so does everything right now. Your life, your job, your home. That’s what grief does to you. It runs cold through your veins, freezing everything you used to find warmth and comfort in.

You click the volume button on the side of your phone, trying to tune out your thoughts with the steady beats of the tambourine. It’ll be better when you see the farm. Everything always felt better when you were there.

The sun stretches across the sky, weaving a tapestry in ribbons of pink, purple,and gold. There’s a welcome committee when the bus finally pulls into the station, around sunset. Two of your grandfather’s oldest friends, Shouta Aizawa and his husband Hizashi Yamada are standing at the bus stop. Hizashi is waving frantically, while his less than enthusiastic partner blinks sleepily at you while you descend the bus steps.

“Well hey there little Minnie!” Hizashi shouts excitedly as he runs to grab you in a tight hug. You smirk a little as he squeezes you so tight you feel your back crack. Shouta frowns in disappointment.

“Hizashi, don’t call her that. Be respectful, she may not like you calling her the nickname her grand—“

Shouta is cut off by you clearing your throat loudly. “It’s ok Mr. Aizawa. I don’t mind. Besides, he only called me ‘mouse’, so it’s not technically the same,” you say smiling.

Hizashi sticks his tongue out at Shouta and he rolls his eyes. The two of them grab hold of your huge suitcases and put them in the bed of their large pick up truck. It’s not a long drive to your grandfather’s old house from the bus station but it seems prolonged as you sit squished in the middle of the couple, answering all their questions and reminiscing about when you were a kid.

“I still remember the big pigtails you used to wear! It’s why I always called you Minnie,” Hizashi says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. A half smile plays on your lips, the memory playing effortlessly in your mind.

Seven-year-old you, in colorful overalls and huge curly pigtails, barefoot and covered in whatever the woods had to offer is in stark contrast to 27-year-old you, with fancy designer clothes that probably cost more than the rusty truck you’re sitting in and sleek straightened hair you had to burn all of your curls out of.

You sigh to yourself, there’s no use beating yourself up. At least not right now, in the presence of others.

You’re grateful that neither of them have given you the “how you holding up?” line, still you’re itching to get out of the car and be alone again. You grin politely and Hizashi starts a monologue about all that you’ve missed since you’ve been away.

“It’s been how many years since you came to visit us?” he prodes.

“About 10 years,” you reply sheepishly. He repeats it in exaggerated exasperation, in turn you sigh.

“Too long,” Shouta replies in a deep voice from across the cab. It surprises you, the underlying hint of disappointment in his tone and your chest tightens before you’re asking Hizashi if he can roll the window down for some fresh air.

The night air is just as you remember, fresh and piney. It swirls around the cab, mixing the scent of salon burnt hair with the citrusy linen musk of Shouta and Hizashi. If your shortness of breath and hyperventilation starts now, you’ll only worry them, which is the last thing you want.

The moment passes as quickly as it came, and you’re squashing the bubbling energy in your belly back down and hiding it behind a stiff grin as the couple turns off of the road into the long driveway to your grandparents' old farmhouse.

The house is dark and a welcomed sight despite how old and decrepit it looks. There are a few holes in the wooden floor boards, a suspicious scattering of tiny little feet in the darkness, and dust covering every square inch of the covered furniture. It smells muggy, like mothballs and stale air and you risk inhaling the cloudy dusty air into your lungs for the lingering scent of tobacco and eucalyptus that used to surround you whenever you ran into your grandfather’s arms.

Shouta places your suitcase right next to the coat rack near the front door and you rub your arms to warm yourself in the cool night air. The fancy sheer shirt over the overly expensive bralette you’re wearing does nothing to keep out the cool country air. Despite it being the beginning of summer, the nights here are always cooler since you’re near a large lake. A chill runs up your spine as you watch a loose cobweb flow in the breeze.

Shouta notices you shivering and nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the gas was turned off so there’s no heat yet, but there’s a fireplace you can light in the meantime. You’ll need some firewood, Hizashi and I can bring some by tomorrow. Should be enough to keep the house warm for two nights. On Monday, you’ll need to call to have it switched back on,” he says matter of factly.

“Thanks,” you reply as you stroll carefully through the darkness. You whip out your phone to click the flashlight on and both Hizashi and Shouta gaze at it in amusement, as if they’ve never seen a smartphone before.

“Huh, should’ve known you’d have one of those state of the art phone things. We only use landlines out here. Not a lot of signal out in the sticks,” Hizashi reports, studying it from across the room. It becomes increasingly clear how much you stand out and it only drives the festering splinter in your heart deeper.

“Oh…I’m sorry. I can put it away if it bothers you,” you say nervously. The screen lights up with a message and you roll your eyes quickly as you fumble with it to turn it off. Hizashi waves off your apology, reassuring you that he’s fine.

Another shiver shakes you but you’re not entirely sure if it’s from the cold or if it’s the crushing reality that you no longer belong here. You’re not the kid you used to be, visiting your grandfather’s farm without a care in the world and exploring all it had to offer. Now you’re a stuck up city girl, the artsy type; who wears designer clothes, knows the latest fashion, and ignores her grandfather’s calls….

“Anyway, the electricity should be working. I made sure to start up the generator before you got in. The plumbing should be working also though hot water isn’t going to be available until the gas is on but you can always boil water in the fireplace.” Hizashi explains as he flicks on a light. His voice breaks through your mind babble and you nod to acknowledge you heard him.

“Thank you both so much for all of your help today,” you say bowing to them with gratitude.

Surprisingly Shouta is the one to speak up. He sighs deeply then gives you a look that matches your grandfather’s caring expression so much, it knocks the wind from you.

“You don’t have to thank us. We promised Teddy we’d take care of you,” he says gently.

You bite back tears, you’ve become a master at holding them back the past few days. Shouta thankfully doesn’t move toward you to pat your shoulder or hug you like the others have done. He only gives you a knowing look, a quick nod and then gathers Hizashi to pull him back toward the door. Shouta has always been your favorite out of your grandfather’s friends. This is exactly why.

“Alright let’s leave her to it. She probably has a lot to unpack and it’s getting dark. We’ll need to get the girls in for the night,” Shouta complains in a gravelly annoyed tone as Hizashi resists his pulls toward the door.

“The chickens will be fiiiinnneee. I wanna sit and talk moreeee,” Hizashi whines.

When Shouta doesn’t budge and grabs his collar to pull him out the door, he quickly shouts, “We’ll be back later tomorrow to check on you! And let us know if you need anything! We’ll be happy to help!” before Shouta slams the door behind him.

It’s quiet now.

A light breeze billows through the area and makes the limbs of the big tree outside the window dance and sway. They rustle noisily against the glass, the squeaking echoing through the empty hallways. There are some loose roof panels the wind slips through to add its whistling tune to the cacophony of night noises.

The sounds only put you more at ease though. They’re exceptionally different from the bustling night life of the city. You take a deep breath and finish the tour of your castle of childhood memories. The floorboards squeak with every step you take and you’re immediately thrown back to when you and your grandfather attempted to sneak out to watch the stars without your grandmother catching you. It didn’t work; she caught you both because you couldn’t stop giggling.

You twist the stiff handle of the sink in the kitchen, thankfully Hizashi was telling the truth about the running water. Your grandparents used to have to pump all the water from the pump out back. You’re not sure when they upgraded to the town's plumbing system but you’re eternally grateful. The water runs yellow, unused and smelly before it changes slowly to a nice transparent flow and you shut it off.

Everything in the kitchen is exactly where it used to be. It’s untouched and ancient, which is quite a shame. It’s a beautiful old kitchen, all the appliances sturdy and old, but still carrying out their duties as the first day they were dragged into this place. A huge window above the sink always lets the morning sun shine through and warm the room.

You and your grandfather used to cook the fish you caught for the day in this kitchen and your grandmother would spend all day making fruit pies and lemonade. The ache however, makes its way back into your chest and you quickly shove the thought back into your mind’s vault.

It’s late, you’re beat. A long day of sitting on a bus tortured by your own thoughts is enough to make all of your limbs feel heavy. You’ll unpack and survey all the things that need to be done tomorrow. For now, you grab the small bag with your toiletries and drag yourself up the rickety stairs to the bedroom.

The grand bedroom, complete with a fireplace, a huge four post king bed and a wooden rocking chair looks exactly the way you remember it. Fragments of memories piece themselves together in the emptiness of the room.

The ghost of your grandpa rocking in the chair by the window, watching the sun rise, the fire crackling in the fireplace for the cool mornings as your grandmother stepped out of the bathroom with dripping wet hair, the pitter patter of feet as a five year old you runs into the room to hop on his lap and watch the sun as he hums the tune to Big Rock Candy Mountain. You sing along to yourself:

So come with me,

We’ll go and see

The Big Rock Candy Mountain

You don’t notice the tears flowing down your cheeks until you’re sniffing loudly and it echoes throughout the room. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Looking at your reflection in the bathroom and studying your tired red eyes, the way your hair is starting to frizz in the country air, your sheer shirt with the strap of your bralette slipping down your shoulder, you come to the conclusion. You’re a mess. Why do you do this to yourself? Because it’s what you deserve.

Exhaustion takes over, and as you finish brushing your teeth and pulling your hair into a sloppy ponytail, you shimmy out of your black skinny jeans and collapse down on the bed. Sinking into its comfort, you pull the heavy warm blanket over your legs and lie down with a relieved sigh. The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re asleep and lost in a dream bathed in green.

You’re seven again, in the woods stomping over dead leaves and detritus in big waders that stretch up your thighs. A fishing pole twice your size is tight in your little fist and swatting away bugs buzzing around your face is your own personal little game. Your grandpa is in front of you whistling his favorite tune as you both traipse through the trees. You can almost smell the natural fishy scent of the lake so you know you’re close.

“Look Mouse! There it is! The perfect fishin’ spot,'' your grandpa points to a sunlit spot through the trees.

You sprint for it, tripping over a few logs and branches before gazing out at the lake in wonder. Your grandpa catches up to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. It’s peaceful, nothing but the sound of the water rippling from fish splashing and cicadas singing. The sun's rays warm the entire area, birds fly close to the water picking up bugs on the surface. It’s a perfect day.

“Think we’ll catch a lot today Papaw?” you ask, trembling with excitement.

You can feel his deep laugh shake his entire body as he holds your shoulder. It’s comforting, it sounds like home and you close your eyes and revel in it. “Depends, little mouse,” he grunts.

Your eyes are still closed but you tilt your head in confusion and ask. “Depends on what Papaw?”

His grip suddenly tightens on your shoulder, so tight it starts to hurt. You reach a hand up to grab his hand and try to pull it away from you.

“Papaw that hurts,” you say struggling, but he only tightens his grip.

You open your eyes now and look up at him, but what you see isn’t your Papaw. This man is bald, with pale fragile skin, yellow teeth and yellow eyes. He looks sick, on the brink of death and he smells awful, like cigarette smoke and decay. Your heart beats fast as you try to pull away from him but he doesn’t let you go. He only laughs again, but this time it’s wheezy and bleeds into a cough that sounds like it’ll be his last.

Your heart feels as if it’s plunging into a dark abyss, fear swallowing you. You try to scream but the sound dies in your throat. What’s going on? Where is Papaw? Who is this and why won’t he let you go?

“Depends on if you leave me here to rot away and die again little mouse,” he cackles and this time your scream bellows and echoes across the murky green lake, a constant thumping you think may be your heart, beats loudly in your ears.

“No!”

You scream and shoot up in bed. It’s morning, the sun spills into the room as you look around the bedroom. You’re covered in sweat, the sheer shirt sticking to your torso as your chest heaves up and down. It was just a dream.The thumping doesn’t subside and you rub your temples as it gets louder.

It takes you a few minutes to realize the thumping isn’t just in your dream. Someone’s knocking on the door, now your door, and it sounds urgent. You throw the blanket off and shimmy your black skinny jeans up your legs, clamoring down the stairs as you button them clumsily.

The person outside is clearly annoyed, judging by the additional bang on the door before you open it. You’re eighty percent sure it isn’t Shouta or Hizashi.

You’re met with a broad chest and the humid summer morning air when you open the door. It’s a large man, towering over you with golden sun kissed skin and hair the color of hay. His arms are large and his muscles flex as he crosses them over his chest. Huge pecs peak over the neckline of the white tank top he wears and it clings to his lithe slim waist. He looks like some sort of athlete. He’s very handsome standing there in jeans hanging on his hips. They hang low despite his belt cinching them and showcasing a sliver of skin that hints at abs under his shirt.

Why is he here?

He’s snarling at you, looking down with the tip of his nose pointed in the air. His teeth and gums under his furled lip glisten in the morning sun. He looks like an angry giant with furrowed brows and piercing red eyes as he bores down on you. If you didn’t know any better, you could swear you see smoke come out of his nose when he huffs impatiently.

He studies you closely; his eyes scan over your body slowly, moving up and down your frame and as they do his lip only curls up in more disgust. It’s like he’s looking at vermin and it instantly makes you self conscious. With your bed head and puffy sleep filled eyes, you’re ready to slam the door shut and hide under a rock forever.

When he doesn’t speak, you lean forward and ask, “Hi, can I… umm help you with something?” The statement is polite but it holds the confusion and annoyance from being awakened by the banging on your door.

“You the new owner?” he grunts at you and his voice is rough and growley, almost like an animal.

You blink and take a step back at his intensity. Why is he asking you this? Is he going to hurt you? Do you need to grab a weapon or something? He looks so angry and disgusted with you that you wrack your brain for if you’ve ever seen or wronged this man. Maybe you cut him off in traffic one day?

“Umm...I guess you can say that. Sorry, who’d you say you were?” you stammer.

He looks offended, like he knows you know he didn’t say who he was before showing up randomly at your house and banging on your door like a crazed lunatic.

He rolls his eyes and sucks a scoff through his teeth. “Tsk, Well yer nothin’ to go nuts over.”

What the fuck is that about? Is he being serious? I thought people from the country were supposed to be nice with manners, you think. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your heart thumps nervously in your chest, bile rises in your throat, but you swallow it down.

“W...what?”

“Everybody’s losin’ their shit and talkin’ bout the new city girl who just moved in. You ain’t nothin’ special. You’ll be just like the others,” he continues, gesturing to you and waving an unbothered hand.

What you thought was bile in your throat turns out to be burning anger but you stifle the flames growing inside your belly. First impressions are everything, even if this guy sucks.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about but-”

Hot breath whooshing out from his flared nostrils interrupts you. He leans down to get close to your face. You can smell mint on his breath, can see the hints of glistening sweat on his brow and the intensity in his eyes. He looks you up and down again, staring at your tits in the bralette and sheer shirt, then smacks his lips in disgust again.

“Tsk, I give you a month. You’ll be gone in a month.” He says it more to himself than to you, almost as if he’s reassuring himself of something.

Before you can say anything in response, he spins around on his heel and stomps across your yard to his dark green truck. He slams the door shut, starts it, and drives away, leaving you standing in the doorway dumbfounded.

Wha the fuck was that? The first townsperson you meet after moving back home and it’s him? You don’t even know his name. This doesn’t bode well. You slam the door shut and stomp up the stairs back to the bedroom.

He doesn’t know you. Who is he to tell you you’ll be gone in a month? How was he able to tap directly into the one thing you’re self conscious about?

You think about the dream, no, the nightmare again. How your grandpa’s dying corpse held you, the sinister way he’d talked about how you left him. You shut your eyes and take deep breaths. Again your chest feels heavy, it feels like trying to intake breath through a thin straw. You bend down to drop your head between your knees, your eyes shut tight as the green of the forest from your dreams blend together with reality.

Before the pressure crushes you beneath its weight, your own humming breaks through the barrier. This song always works, his song, the one Gramps always sang to you when you felt this way.

As I went down to the river to pray

Studying about that good old way

The lyrics never made any sense to you as a kid, but his voice never failed to break through the panic. The song becomes your comfort; humming it to yourself is the only thing you think to do when you’re feeling this way and it works every time. You crawl over to your backpack and pull the letter out of the pocket. Seeing his handwriting again, I leave it all, my pride and joy, to you, my little mouse, it lights the flame in you. You owe it to him to take care of this place, especially after…

You fold the note and slip it back into your bag. Fuck that rude guy from this morning. You’re not going to let him stop you from keeping this promise to your grandpa. You’ll avoid him, it’s not that small of a town, it should be easy.

A cold shower helps you shake off this morning's events. With your hair dripping in waves and no longer sleek and plastered to your head, it’s the first of your city persona to go. Already it feels like you can see the remnants of your past coming back to you.

You twist your hair into two braids and go to the wardrobe in the bedroom to don country appropriate attire. It’s best not to stick out any more than you already do. The last thing you do is tie a bandana over your hair and gaze at yourself in the mirror. You look like your grandmother or rather an imposter wearing a costume, considering you’re wearing her clothes.

Gramps always said you were her spitting image. You sigh, it makes you feel all tingly. Stepping into her boots—and having them fit perfectly—assures you that you can do this, you will do this, no matter how hard it gets.

The rest of the morning is spent surveying the house in detail and making a list of things you need to do today. It’s still in good shape which is great considering the few years it sat empty. Some deep cleaning and loving is all it really needs.

There are a few holes in the wooden floors, a few in the roof that need to be patched, and the dried out garden out back needs to be weeded. Not to mention, filling your fridge with groceries and buying clothes since all you brought with you was art supplies. It also wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few books on gardening as well.

This all means, you need to go into town. How you’ll get into town though, that’s a different story. It was stupid to come here with no plan for transportation. When you lived in the city, there was no need for a car. Public transportation was everywhere, but here? A car is a necessity. You gnaw on your lip. Should you call and ask Shouta for a ride? The last thing you want is to have to depend on them for everything.

Stress about it later. Right now, you’re focused on riding the productivity high, so you go out to inspect the barn out back. It’s a beautiful day when you step out onto the porch, the morning sun grows warmer as it lifts higher into the sky, birds are tweeting and hovering over the crops of corn across the road. The grass on your property is high and needs to be mowed but it’s a healthy looking green that gives you hope that the garden will be easier to revive than you thought.

Something catches your attention across the yard. A big red truck you’re sure wasn’t there this morning sits in your driveway. You would’ve noticed it when that asshole drove off in his truck, even if you were still in shock. You saunter over to it warily, checking to see if there’s anyone lurking around your home. You peer into the window of the cab and there’s a folded piece of paper sitting on the seat. The keys are in the ignition and you’re puzzled. That definitely wouldn’t fly in the city.

You try the handle and the door swings open easily. Immediately, the smell of tobacco and eucalyptus hits you in the face and tears burn the rim of your eyes again. This was your grandpa’s truck and you know it as soon as you smell it. But how did it get here? You reach for the note and unfold it.

Teddy told us to take care of his truck while he was in the hospital. Just makes sense to give it to you. Take care of her. There’s firewood in the back. I figured you’d want a little more time to yourself so I snuck out while Zashi was in the shower.

Call if you need anything. I’m serious. Don’t be stubborn. We can help.

-Shouta

Shouta may be your favorite person in the entire town. You make a mental note to thank them both with a meal, then take the firewood into the house. With the truck, you can make it to town and visit a few shops to get what you need to clean and fix the floors.

Should you introduce yourself to people? What if they’re like the asshole you saw this morning? Maybe you shouldn't. You're left weighing the pros and cons of introducing yourself as you hop up into the truck, start the engine, and head towards town.

Shit.

Katsuki swerves a bit in the road, his hands sweat on the steering wheel as he drives. He’s shaking, from anger or relief he doesn’t truly know. All he knows is she’s not back. She’s not fucking back.

Her face pops into his mind again and he winces and shuts his eyes before opening them again and narrowly missing someone’s mailbox. He needs to calm the hell down. There’s no use gettin’ all worked up, you ain’t her. He should’ve listened more when Ei told him about you moving in, but he’d only focused on “moving back from the city,” and that was enough to put him on edge.

Your confusion as you stared up at him replays in his mind. You’d looked rough, like you didn’t get enough sleep with your wild puffy eyes and… something else he couldn’t really pinpoint. Was it fear? Doesn’t matter and it’s not his fucking problem. You were confused when you saw him and that’s the only reason he was so sure you had nothing to do with her.

Still there’s something that bothers him about you, something that rubs him the wrong way. It has to be because you’re from that disgustin’ place. Of course you’re rotten, living there poisons people’s minds with all the smog and dirty bullshit they breathe in from factories. Katsuki rolls down the window of his truck, the fresh morning air, full of fertilizer and grass is a comfort. He inhales deeply, this is the life.

Ain’t no way he’s gonna let some city brat like you ruin his tranquility. He turns off of the road to drive up the long driveway to his home. His barn is in the distance and it instantly soothes him. The girls are out grazing and he makes a mental note to cut up a few apples as a treat in exchange for leaving ‘em hanging this morning.

Katsuki pulls next to Eijirou’s truck in the driveway. He’s sitting on the front porch in the rocking chair, waving brightly at him. He stands when Katsuki hops out of his truck and saunters over to him with his hands jammed in his pockets.

“You’re out and about early. Thought you’d be feedin’ the cows and stuff when I got here,'' Eiji chuckles heartily.

Katsuki huffs. Eiji’s always too cheery in the morning and Katsuki’s definitely not in the mood for it. Especially not after the fucked up morning he just had with you.

“Had to run an errand,” he grunts as he stomps up the stairs of the porch.

Eijirou looks befuddled. “What errand? None of the shops are open this early,” he replies with a hint of suspicion in his tone.

Katsuki’s shoulders tense as he jams the key into the lock, swings the door open, and steps inside.

Fuck, he knows.

“Who are ya, my damn ma?” It’s not any of his goddamn business where he’s been this morning. He doesn’t owe him an answer. Katsuki rolls his eyes as he kicks off his boots and walks toward the kitchen.

He’s stopped in his tracks when Eiji puts a hulking hand on his shoulder and holds him back.

“Tell me you didn’t go to her house, man.”

He looks way too serious and his eyes burn into the side of Katsuki’s face. He already knows the answer but he seems like he’s holding out hope Katsuki will say no instead of affirming it.

Katsuki doesn’t say either, instead he shrugs out of his grasp and growls, “Fuck off.”

Eiji throws his hands up in frustration. “You did! What’s yer problem man? You can’t just go to people’s houses and start insultin’ them!”

Eijirou scolds him like a disappointed parent. If it were anyone but him, Katsuki would’ve told him to shut the fuck up and get out of his house. But Eiji’s been too good of a friend to push away, especially after she left. So instead he pouts.

“I was sick of everybody in this goddamn town talking about her! Had to see for myself and like I said, she ain’t nothing to sneeze at.”

“You don’t even know her,” Eijirou counters.

“Don’t care to either. She’s got no clue what she's getting herself into. She should just go back to the trash city she came from,” Katsuki tuts, turning to walk back into the kitchen.

Eiji kicks off his shoes and follows his friend into the kitchen. Clearly, this is far from over. Katsuki grabs a pitcher of tea from the fridge and pours two glasses. He knows what’s coming, some stupid fucking lecture about moving on and what not. He should know it ain’t that simple.

Eiji sighs and Katsuki takes a deep breath to prepare himself. His scarlet eyes flick up to his friend’s disappointed grimace.

“Kats...what’s this really about man?” he asks in an exasperated voice.

“The fuck are you talkin’ bout?” It’s too fucking early for this conversation, he’s already worked up and has to get caught up on the work he missed out on doing this morning. He scoots the glass across the island, a clear attempt to shut him up.

Eijirou squints but takes the glass and puts it to his lips to take a sip. Clearly it doesn't help. “When I mentioned a new woman movin’ in from the city who used to live here you looked like ya saw a ghost. I know you don’t talk about—”

“Shut it.”

Katsuki shuts his eyes, curls his fist tightly and takes a deep breath in and out before he opens his eyes and sees Eiji’s pity filled frown. He hates when he looks at him like that. It makes him want to spit fire.

Katsuki growls low and speaks through clenched teeth. “We ain’t talkin’ bout that. This is different. I know she ain’t her.”

Eiji looks unbothered and takes another gulp of his iced tea. “Fine, we don’t gotta talk about it. But will you at least try to be cordial with the new girl? Since you got no other reason to hate her other than the fact that she’s from the city,” he scolds, pouting his lips.

Katsuki gulps down the remaining tea in his glass then turns his back and places it down as hard as he can without breaking it, into the sink. “Tsk, whatever. I’ll just stay away from her,” he grunts as he turns on the water to rinse out his cup.

“Her grandpa just died dude. Give her a break.” Eijirou shakes his head, the pitiful frown still on his face as he speaks.

Oh shit. He didn't know about your grandpa. He knew you were moving into the home where the old guy used to live, but he didn’t know he died. It clicks then, why you looked so rough when you answered the door and why you look like you didn’t get much sleep.

He swallows the lump in his throat before he turns back to Eiji and gives him a teasing smirk.

“Then why don’t you go talk yerself into her pants. Be her lil angel.”

Eiji blushes, he knew that would fucking get him. “Maybe I will. She’ll need a proper welcome to the town since you ruined it,” he stammers.

Of course he already has it in his mind to go and greet you. Good lookin’ new girl in town? He’s probably hoping to be the helpful country boy who teaches the city girl the ropes.

“You’re so pussy whipped,” he sighs, motioning for Eiji’s empty glass.

“I’m just tryin’ to be nice!”

“And get pussy,” Katsuki snorts.

He cackles when Eiji looks at his feet shyly and mutters under his breath. “If it happens, it happens.”

When Eijirou finally changes the subject of why he’s here in the first place—his tomatoes are being attacked by caterpillars again even though Katsuki just gave him a remedy to keep them away—he takes another deep breath. He’s glad to have this conversation behind him.

He’ll admit it—only to himself—he thought you might be her. Back for some reason, a fresh start to torture him, who the fuck knows, but he had to check for himself. He needed reassurance. Even the thought of you being the old guy’s granddaughter hadn’t occurred to him.

It coulda been a cover story, maybe she’d be too ashamed to show her face here after up and leaving. Maybe she’d need a cover story and use the old guy bein’ sick to come back and start over. He hadn’t seen the old man a lot. Something about him living at the hospital or some kind of cancer clinic. It’d be a good cover for her.

It doesn’t fucking matter because she’s not back. You ain’t her and that’s all that matters. Although… you may not be her but you probably think just like her. You probably act just like her. Her face pops into his mind and his hand immediately itches for a cold beer. He wishes he was holding a drink, one tiny little sip to calm his nerves. It wouldn’t be much, just—

No. No. He’s been clean for a year and a half. Like hell if he’ll let some nobody like you remind him of all the shit that happened or cause him to fall back off the wagon.

He should keep his distance from you. You’re nothing but trouble. It shouldn’t be hard to stay away from you. Not like you’ll seek him out after what happened this morning anyway. He walks to the back door as Eiji continues complaining about the chewed up stalks of his tomato plants.

He’s decided. He’ll make his number one task staying as far from you as possible

taglist: @bakugotrashpanda ,@atribecalledkatt , @dienamights, @planets-bookshelf, @pureofheartaudio, @unlogical-ella, @b-matcha, @senaraphoenix, @charlotteplsdosth, @ventini, @abadbitchthatcantbekilled, @axhpax, @koubul, @keishinsuke, @savorthesalt, @dabilove27, @sageyrage, @thatpeachybandgirl, @indigoraen, @vxnusinlove, @immonole, @kaitshimaeijiro, @chickenandlimesoup, @dynamightyriot, @zombiewarprincess, @hufflefluffwh0re, @violinbetty, @carribeanwifey19, @distractionforyourthoughts, @miakms, @bunseren-burner @gixxie

Strikethrough means I couldn't tag for some reason very very sorry!

Thanks for reading!

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ms-indifferwnt · 6 months

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To Shape a Home Masterlist-COMPLETE

Farmer!Bakugo x reader (Stardew Valley AU)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: slow burn enemies to lovers, few descriptions of reader, Reader is referred to as a nickname throughout, talk of grief, smut (specific warnings for this will be on the labeled chapter), talk of alcoholism and rehab, talk of cancer, talk of the negative effects of smoking

Total WC: 71,898

Summary: When your grandfather leaves you the deed to his small farm in your old hometown, you decide to leave your city life behind and care for it in his memory. The town holds potential for reopening old wounds and forcing you to face all your regrets. With one grumpy farmer who seems to have a personal vendetta against you and the bustling metropolis you used to call home behind you, you’re ready to delve into whatever it takes to have a successful farm and find somewhere you can truly call home.

Taglist | Playlist | Ao3

Note: Uploads will be every Wednesday and Saturday! starting Feb 5th!

Summer

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Autumn

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Winter

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Spring

Epilogue

Meet Minnie!: art by @bluebellhairpin

Meet the Farmer:

character sheet by @bakugotrashpanda

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ms-indifferwnt · 7 months

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𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚑, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚍𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊, 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚘𝚖/𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌, 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕(𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚒-𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 𝟻.𝟺𝙺

𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂: 𝚒’𝚖 𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚜, 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙾𝙻𝚅𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝙳 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝚄𝙰. 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙷 𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝟷𝟾+, 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙽𝙸. 𝟷𝟾+ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃.

Keep reading

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ms-indifferwnt · 7 months

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Party Favours | k. eijiro/ reader/ k. bakugo

Summary: Perhaps the situation you are in hasn't been entirely unforeseeable. But you never thought your Kirishima and his best friend would be fighting for dominance between your legs

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader/ Bakugo

Warnings: 18+ MDNI dom (and kinda mean and kinda asshole) Kiri, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), threesome (mfm), kinda drunk kinda fwb (?) All characters are aged in their 20s

Word Count: 2k

You suppose, you never thought it'd come to this -laying on your back with your feet pried open in the basement in Kirishima's house- when Kirishima told you he wanted to make his ex jealous, or when you agreed to let him film a snippet of him drilling his cock into you so he could accidentally send it to her, or when he dragged you to a club because he saw she was there in a story and fucked you in the toilets while she was waiting in the line outside or when-

Wait-

Perhaps the situation you are in hasn't been entirely unforeseeable. Because you don't really say no to anything Kirishima says.

There's music thudding in the background from upstairs and your head is hazy by the previous game of beer pong -or cups, you don't really remember- you played back upstairs at the party, the smoke that was almost littering every wall in the house, the dim, strobe lighting that kept flickering to the best of the sound of music.

In all the times you've been here, you've never thought the basement has been soundproof anyway, but at least it's held back your screams as Kirishima splits you on his cock better than the thin walls of his room would.

And that has been efficient enough, and it still proves to be sufficient enough when Kirishima tags you down into the room, his best friend being dragged along with you, begrudgingly at it, but that doesn't stop you from feeling excitement non the less.

The buzzing in your head might have put you on a trance but still, that does nothing but add to the fire in your stomach, your groin; in fact the more you feel yourself lean into the rundown couch further when the redhead hooks his elbow under your knee and spreads you open, your skirt riding up your thighs and bundling over your hips.

You really would have thought that Kirishima wouldn't run his mouth all over Bakugo about how you had expressed that before him and you got tangled up that you had your eyes on his best friend, but you should have known better.

Best friends don't keep secrets

And best friends share.

Still, you shy away the second Bakugo drops to his knees next to Kirishima, the thugs of his knees on the floor sending vibrations to your chest. And Kirishima is mean, so so mean when he sees you hide your face inside your palms, legs struggling to close.

"Oh don't shy away now sweetheart" He says but he chuckles when your thighs start shaking and he grabs the intimate plush flesh of the inside of them with both of his with rough palms. Next to him Bakugo watches the interaction with his breath stuck in his throat and when he eyesight say a word your legs start shaking again.

And duck, Kirishima knows he had to mellow you both, judging by the blush on his best friend's face, by the way he's biting his lip but doesn't make another move forward and towards you. "fuck bro, I promise you've never seen such a pretty pussy" He says and hooks his finger under your panties, his middle finger daring to push them to the side just one bit, he's pushing the back of his finger onto your skit. "If you don't touch her, then I won't either"

The euphoria that's gathered in your groins from that simple touch is quickly taken away when Kirishima pulls his finger out of your panties and gives your heat a playful slap. You moan and writhe under him once again. "Give her a sec and she'll be soaked bro" He groans at Bakugo and the blond leans closer in between your thighs, his own hand digging into your skin for leverage.

He might not be talking much, you guess he's in the same state as you are, buzzed out of his head and not used to sharing such a moment with an extra person in addition, but that thought alone sends shivers down your core.

And Kirishima knows, when he lays his hand flat against you, the tips of his fingers toying with your underwear when he presses it onto you, the pad of his thumb pressing the seam that runs across the lace of your panties painfully onto your clit. He rubs a circle around it once, twice and you forget to not peak down when you feel one hand warm up against your skin, groans filling the room much louder than whatever weekend song is playing in the background.

"You said you wouldn't touch her if I didn't fucking shitty hair" Your hands leave your face when you listen to skin slapping on skin and you whine when the tingling pressure of Kirishima's hand leaves you.

"Come on bro don't be mean"

Bakugo grunts at him, then nods in your direction "fuck show me how wet she is" He says and Kirishima places a kiss on your forehead, lips dry but eyes slanted and foxy, he keeps kissing down your face, cupping it, twirling his tongue onto your cheek, to the top of your mouth while his hand runs down your body teasingly, purposely avoiding your nipples, that soft spot in to your navel, past your skirt and finally, when his tongue has seeped into your mouth he pulls your panties to the side.

Your eyes widen into his when you feel his best friend's hot breath ghost over you, your head starts rising in short breaths, your throat barely keeping down and inside lewd high pitched moans.

"Damn, he was your first choice babe?" Kirishima says onto your lips and you're sure Bakugo swears at him from over you, but the way the red head plants delicious kisses across your chin and your neck you're not sure you can pay attention to whatever he says "with the way he's staring at you like he's never seen pussy before?" He chuckles and the sound of his tongue clicking against his palette fills the room.

"Fuck you, you're an asshole" The blonde groans and Kirishima grabs your chin, he tilts it down so you can watch as Bakugo finally closes the distance between his face and your dripping cunt. You can't help but moan when he wraps his lips around your clit and lightly sucks, before laying his tongue flat against you, running it along your slit. Your breasts are finally spilled from your chest when your redhead wiggles his hand under your shirt, you moan loudly when both Bakugo's and Kirishima's fingers latch onto your nipples, ready to tag at them with equal force

And the competitive look they give each other as they try to snap each other's hand away perhaps, is hotter than you thought it would initially be. You wonder when did this become a fight for dominance, when did this, along the lines of a high state and a sober mind stopped being an act of sharing

Kirishima, as if he reads the filthy thoughts inside your head, runs a hand through the blond's hair and pulls him even closer into you and when he moans against you, his nose nuzzling over your clit, you go crazy, your cunt burning with desire and your legs shaking even more than before.

"Eiji, eiji fuck" You whine and Kirishima's assault on your neck stops abruptly, his hand.

"I'm not the one salivating over your cunt sweetheart, you better call out to your Katsu" He says, his teeth digging into your bottom lip "isn't this what you wanted? And didn't I make it happen for you?"

"Mmhm"

"Use your words baby, didn't I"

"Yes, yes you did" You choke as Bakugo gives you another flick with the tip of his tongue on your clit

"Is he any good?" Kirishima prompts and Bakugo once again moans against you. Your stomach flutters this time and you nod while looking into Kirishima's eyes. "Not as good as me huh?" He asks and you shake your head, the cockiness in his tone back, this time consuming every piece of confidence in this room, just to revive his "yeah thought so. Katsuki come up here bro, gimme a taste"

Fuck, even the way he taps his finger on his mouth to ask for a kiss is hot and fuck he can probably see the fucked out look you're giving to him, almost obliterating any thought of yours that isn't him. But Katsuki doesn't seem to like the way you stay quiet, staring at Kirishima's finger with gooey eyes.

Red eyes squint from behind your crotch and the blond's thick fingers refuse to loosen their grip on your thighs. He dives deeper into you, pulling back with a loud pop before diving in again, his lips working against you. You choke on the angry huff Kirishima lets out once he realizes he's being dismissed "oh okay, I see how it is"

"If you want something, come and get it shitty hair" The blond speaks against your clit, and your stomach is weak at the sight of your sleek connecting your cunt to his mouth, shining over his cheeks.

Kirishima eyes darken at the challenge, the fingers that are toying with your nipple rolling it harshly again and again until he feels you twitch. He gets up from his position right next to you and groans when he chips your breasts and kisses each nipple individually, then the middle the of your chest, with wet, soft and swollen lips.

You watch as he trails the path of his hands across your body, placing kisses anywhere his mouth can reach and before you even know it he's kneeling right next to Bakugo, sucking bruises across the sought skin of your thighs

"Fuck" He stretches the word, his eagerness rushing to his own cock at the sight of you this wet, dripping in delicious in streams of sweetness into your ass "this fucking pussy, you're so swollen babe, I'm gonna fuck you so good after this, you don't even need me to prep you"

"Oh don't worry, I'll stretch her for you" Bakugo says against you once again and Kirishima tilts his head to the side, like a confused puppy and your heart combusts into your chest, how can he look like this when he's so big, with his brows furrowed as he's eyeing his best friend with greater cockiness than the first is known for, kissing a dangerous path closer and closer to your core, blowing hot air in all the soft parts of your skin that he knows drive you crazy.

At your responses, at the way your legs shake and tremble for the thousandth time tonight, he knows he'll get it just right when his head pushes against his friend's and swipes his tongue against you

You shriek. You moan. And you close your eyes because if you're not able to deal with having to look at one set of carmine eyes between your legs you surely and most definitely cannot handle two.

But your abdomen tightens at the feeling; both their mouths running onto you, hungrily sucking, biting, and your cunt is burning st the sensation of it, you're clenching around nothing and you don't feel like you can hold back for any longer, but the waves of over stimulation and over sensitivity are prolonging the release you're chasing.

Or perhaps, you find your chest tightens and your mind indulging in thoughts you've never even known you had before, how youre panting that you want "more" or "please, please don't stop"

"Fuck open your eyes at me" Kirishima commands, and his shoulder bumps against Bakugo's and you wonder, how, how can two men this big, this good make a mess of themselves just for you.

And they are set on non stopping their ministrations until they've gotten it right. They feel so good against you, each lingering onto their own pace as they circle their tongues all over your clit, you jump when their wet muscles meet or when either of them dips his tongue into your velvety entrance. You writhe and you cry out when Kirishima wraps his lips around your clit and sucks but Bakugo's tongue finds its way between the redheads lips and licks softly, his own bottom lip rubbing against you getting coated in the sleek that's dripping out of you.

Your chest jolts when Kirishima bucks away and sucks your folds into his mouth and Bakugo almost tries to push him away, shoving his whole face between your thighs and licking fast at your clit with his soft tongue -Kirishima decides he doesn't like that, he doesn't like the cockiness in which he's thrown onto your thigh with, his teeth left to dig onto the puffy skin between your thigh and your folds. He dives back in, his tongue clashing with Bakugo's and you fail to understand if the purpose of this is to make you come or to assert dominance against each other, but either way you enjoy it.

Palms sleek, chest heavy, nipples perking and hardening even with the simplest huff over air that blows against them you place your hands in both their heads and pull them against you, your hips bucking into the air your voice loud and sweet as it scratches your throat and just before the fire in your abdomen combust Kirishima sticks a finger in you, accompanied by a very Bakugo and your vision goes white when they drill their fingers inside of you, your velvety walls clenching all around them as they both go for that one spot that will send you over the edge.

And they do, and you bite your lip so hard to think you've drawn blood, the metallic taste that floods into your mouth doing nothing to spoil the never ending feeling of your orgasm, your body jerking and snapping as you're holding off to both men to stay grounded and not fall off the couch and your core, it's clenching, you feel like you have a second pulse growing rapidly.

"Fuck, Kirishima said you had the best pussy but fuck princess, it's even better then I thought" Bakugo says and he plants kisses in the spread of your legs, despite your body visibly twitching "has she ever squirted like that before shitty hair?"

"I've never- I've" You breathe, eyes still shut, vision still white "I've never done that"

"Well I'll make her do it again"

"Only if you get to it first" Kirishima says in a dark tone and when you open your eyes again, you come to realise, this is going to be a very long night.

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