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rafecameroninterlude · 20 days

Note

hii again ik i just sent one but what about rafey manhandling you out of a party when you get into an argument w some girl who was like trying to get all over him (he was clearly not into it and was telling her he had a girl) and then him eating her pussy in bed that night saying that shes the only one he wants cause he loves her and her pretty pussy so much -👛

warnings: arguing, oral (f receiving)

you were sitting next to rafe when the broad stumbled over to him, so high out of her mind that she didn’t notice your head resting on his shoulder. “hey rafeee!” your eyes shot to the source of the voice, your boyfriend immediately glancing over at you. “you got a line for me?” she smiled, tripping over her heels before falling right into his lap. “yo, come on!” he pushed her, “watch the fuck out, i got all this shit out right here.” you glared at her, annoyed with the way she was looking at your boyfriend.

“i don’t have any money on me, but i could pay you with something else..” rafe’s lip curled in disgust, physically cringing at her while you fought the urge to drag her out of the house by her hair. “go be a mess somewhere else, i got a girl.” rafe pulled you closer to his side, her eyes finally landing you. “all lines are fifty dollars, babe. sorry, no free plays around here!” you flashed her a smile, running your hand across rafe’s chest, “this is your girl? my god, i’d think you have higher standards, ray.. guess not.” you took a moment to examine her.

“then what does that make you?” you stood up. “the whole world could see where your hair extensions start, your lashes are hanging on by a thread, you desperately need a nail fill, and you could barely walk in those things called heels.. you’re as low as they come.” rafe was already packing his stuff, knowing how this would end if you two didn’t leave right now. surrounding partygoers were now looking at you two, your boyfriend tugging on one of the belt loops of your skirt. “my daddy is chief police, i’d watch out if i were you. i could shut your whole operation down.” at that, rafe cursed under his breath, dragging you away before anything could escalate.

“do it then! and make sure you tell him how you’re an easy coke whore while you’re at it!” rafe picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder while you tried to squirm out of his grip. “put me down!” it wasn’t until he made it to the truck that he placed you in the passenger seat, your hands shoving him away when he tried to talk to you. he groaned, making his way to the driver’s side. “you should’ve defended me.” rafe looked over at you with wide eyes. “i should’ve defended you? against what? the idiot that couldn’t tell left from right?” he laughed.

“it’s not funny.” you crossed your arms over your chest, scooting as close to the door as you could. “are you seriously mad at me right now?” you swatted his hand away when he reached over, making him shake his head. “just wait till we get home.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him for the rest of the ride. you were quick to get off the truck once he pulled in, slamming the door shut as you ran inside. rafe scoffed, “well that was a little dramatic.” he went up upstairs, groaning in frustration when the door knob to his bedroom didn’t budge. “you can’t lock me out of my own space!” you were naked, about to step into the shower before you shouted, “i just did!”

you took your time under the hot water, washing off all of the irritation and anger from tonight. you knew rafe did everything he could to establish himself as unavailable and uninterested to that girl, he even pushed her for crying out loud. the guilt for being mad at him was starting to seep through, making you open the bedroom door after you got out of the shower. once you changed into a pair of his boxers and a baby tee, you climbed underneath the sheets, waiting to hear his footsteps walk in. eventually he did, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, “i just get so mad when someone thinks they can just flirt their way into getting your attention.” he turned, rubbing your leg through the comforter. “no one, except you, has my attention, y/n. nothing else matters to me.” he uncovered you, fingers toying with the waistband of your, well his, bottoms. you sighed, pulling him to your chest where you cradled his head. “i promise i won’t be mad at you when it comes to other girls. i trust you.” he kissed you before pulling away, sliding his boxers down your legs.

you let him have his way with you, a gasp leaving your lips when he pulled your thighs on top of his shoulders. “you never have to worry about anyone else, no one even compares.” rafe left wet kisses on your folds, your back arching off the bed when his tongue met your clit. “i’ve never met someone so beautiful, ‘never seen a pussy this pretty.” he spread you apart with his thumbs, marveling at the sight of you. “you’re the only girl i need, ‘the only one for me.” you knew rafe had a mean head game, but one hour later and he was still making you cum until tears rolled down your cheeks. “please! it’s too much, rafe,” you sobbed, your body on fire as your legs trembled.

he finally pulled away, his lips shining with your slick. “i love you.” he rubbed circles into your skin. rafe waited until you were able to meet his eyes, your chest falling and rising with each breath. “i love you, too.” you blinked slowly.

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.”

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point.

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that?

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there.

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were.

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better.

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars.

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots.

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left.

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door.

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories.

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you.

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.”

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation.

“What do you plan to do with it?”

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.”

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.”

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder.

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you.

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.”

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.”

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room.

“Kid!”

“Seb?”

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were.

And they brought an assistant with them.

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you.

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!”

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you.

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.”

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room.

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you.

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.”

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.”

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you.

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head.

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?”

Another shake as a mouth dropped.

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?”

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.”

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman.

“House?”

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him.

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?”

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.”

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming.

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.”

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy.

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max.

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could.

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper.

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him.

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?)

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.”

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house.

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you.

“Kid?”

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.”

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you.

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”)

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms.

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.”

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage.

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?”

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop.

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly.

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next.

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again.

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.”

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car.

“What kind of car is that?”

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession.

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.)

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.”

Max looked down at the hyper car.

“What that a V12?”

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.”

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it.

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him.

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost.

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.”

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it.

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier.

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.”

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.”

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?”

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink.

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink.

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!”

“And the track?”

“You have a track!?”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

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tayytayy12 · 5 days

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Off to the races | CS55 x Reader

Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.

Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really

Requested - No - Yes

Type - Written

Not been proofread

You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.

He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.

Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.

He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.

You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.

You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.

You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.

“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.

You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.

You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”

“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.

“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”

You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”

You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.

“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”

You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.

—————

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walpu · 18 days

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Hello hello 🫂 how are you? I hope you're well! This is my first time request 🏃 feel free to ignore

I was thinking that reader just bought a house and now having troubles with paying the electric bill and water bill they couldn't even prepare a proper meal for themselves, so the reader decided to put on a website open one spot for a roommate with a condition of course. Here where Aventurine found the website and saw who it was.. the person who helped him once, would they remember him anyway? and Aventurine decided to sign up and meet the reader at reader place, discussing about the agreement and spilt who was paying the bill. not Aventurine mind he decided to pay full bill and buy groceries anyway stlas of course he got scolded

Eventually they got close,, close friends even.. reader started taking interest into Aventurine liking, well reader doesn't know he's a gambler ((or is he?)) Overtime,, Aventurine started to become more touchy, well reader doesn't mind it since they adore love affection,, well sometimes they got flustered when Aventurine touch becomes more bold ((yk what I mean?)) Not until they got pinned down OR Aventurine the one got pinned down?

This is too long hhh I love your HC Aventurine 🫂 (it's yummy) have a good day!

Hello!! Thank you so much, I hope I got it right since I wasn't sure if I should make in into a modern au or make it canon compliant (spoiler I've ended up with the second option)

being roommates with Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluffy, hurt/comfort (sort of?), no beta

Considering Aven's leaked story, it'd pretty much canon that Aventurine doesn't forger people who helped him at least once. Which is not that surprising, when you think of it. Not many people were kind enough to land him a hand without expecting something in return.

He found the website by pure coincidence. Another case of his luck working in mysterious ways.

He recognizes your face immediately. Like, almost embarrassingly fast.

But, you know, whatever, not like you remember him, right? He sends you a random sum of money as a thank you for helping him in the past, not elaborating on who he is and why he's paying you. Scared you shitless I bet. But other than that, he doesn't see any need to reach out.

Except he just can't stop thinking about this add.

He never had comfortable living conditions before he joined the IPC. It would be a huge luck for him and his sister to have something soft to sleep on. And after he lost her, after he was shackled, caged, stripped of his pride... Well, not the memories he likes to go back to.

Now he has a huge apartment and a comfortable bed, a privilege to sleep under a warm blanket. Yet he has no one who would be there for him to distract him after a nightmare, no one to make this place feel like a home. It's a beautiful golden cage, nothing more.

Meeting you to talk about your add was a whim. Something to do for fun, really. A way to distract himself. Maybe he'll just see how are you are doing. Maybe you'll remember him.

Well, you don't. He signs the arrangement anyway, mentally beating himself up for it. Stupid. Pathetic.

But... you really look the same. Like you didn't change one bit since the day you showed him that small amount of kindness.

He'll just pay off his debt. That what he tells himself. He doesn't even have to live with you, just pay his half of the bills for some time. He may be a cunning businessman but hey, he has a reputation to uphold (at least for his own sake, since you have no idea about the mental gymnastics he's doing), he can't just let his benefactor starve!

Also, it's a bit funny to look at your reactions. You may not knows he's one of the Ten Stonehearts but you're not stupid, it's obvious he's not the last person in the IPC. Why would a guy like him need a roommate??? Also, he lies to you that the money you received earlier were just a prepayment, he just forgot to elaborate when he sent it. Shady. How tf did he learn you card information to send you the money. What a weird guy. Up to no good, it seems.

He can't help but laugh in amusement, seeing you squirm. But hey, not like you have a lot of options, right? You gotta take him in~

At first he doesn't plan on staying at your place, like, at all. Maybe once or twice a month so you wouldn't freak out about his "suspicious" absents.

But... You're fun. Fun to be around, fun to tease. You recognize his Sigonian eyes but you don't say anything. You don't try to get into his personal space but you also seem to be sensitive to his subtle mood changes. You don't try to be overly nice and don't ask for his money, his luck, nothing of sorts. It's the bare minimum, even lower than the bare minimum, it's just basic human decency yet it makes him feel warm.

Like, look at his and Ratio's relationship in canon. Ratio may not be the nicest and the most polite person but he treats Aventurine with respect and look at how Aventurine behaves around him. He's more relaxed and playful, genuinely lookin for some kind friendly companionship. So like I'm 100% sure that despite his "ohhh you can use and betray me," approach this man is such a sucker for any sort of sincerity. He's just friendless and miserable let me bite him.

So anyway, he sticks around far more often than he planed. Even if he has every right to do so as your literal roommate, he still feels like compensating it by paying for all of your bills, just because he can. Maybe it will make you happy with him, maybe you'll start needing him, maybe you'll be happy with him staying by your side.

Well. He gets scolded. Apparently, being roommates doesn't work like that. He refuse your attempts to pay him off your part off the bills though.

"You can make it up to me some other way. For instance... Let's play a game, shall we?"

He is knows for making the situation favorable for himself, after all.

Just like that, you slowly get closer. He teaches you to play card games, even offers to take you to the casino with him. Jokingly, of course. There are a lot of dangerous people who want him gone there, after all.

His heart flatters every time when you take the initiative to know him better.

"Soon enough you'll master me in this, dear" he says playfully, his hand brushing against yours as he takes the cards from you.

Aeons, the touches. Touches! He never took a notice of how him and his sister would accidentally brush against each other when they were still by each other's side. It was natural, after all. After her death, he didn't have anyone to be close with, no one to relax around. And now he has you. You're not family, he's not even sure if he can call you a friend (what is friendship anyway?? he can playfully call you his friend here and there but if he would call you this with all seriousness, would you run? would you pull away? stupid, stupid, unreasonable thoughts). So with this unclear relationship, how can he handle the touches when there are so many of them? Most of them are casual, accidental. Yet he can't just simply ignore them. Even if you can... (local gambler finds out not everyone is as touch-starved as him more at eleven).

He does the only thing he knows. Tries to be bolder. It's a risk, sure, you may easily push him away. But we all know he's a gambler and a great one too.

Anyway, you don't push him away and he's lost because, apparently, you don't mind him clinging to your side and whining when he's tired. And you don't mind him hugging your arm when he teaches you another card game. And you don't mind him hugging you from behind when you cook something for both of you. Btw him discovering the comfort of living together with someone and sharing chores, getting used to each other's patterns and such is another huge thing but I'll run out of words soon so maybe I'll leave this for another time.

Okay back to the topic. You don't push him away even if he was secretly expecting just that. It's just too good to be true, no?

Well. You start being affectionate as well. Now what.

He can't just stop now, even if he feels like he should. It's all too new, to scarry. But it's so good. Leaning into your hand when you caress his hair, falling asleep on your shoulder. Your soft eyes on him. You waiting for him to come back home.

He gets even bolder, more touchy. You'll push him away soon enough and, at least, this sweet delusion will end. And before that, he at least can see your flustered expression when his cold fingers slide under your shirt, holding onto your waist.

"What exactly are you doing?" you ask him one day and he thinks that's it. You're fed up. You'll push him away now.

Instead you push him on the couch, pinning him down, looking at him with unreadable but intense gaze. Seems like it's his turn to get flustered.

"Oh? Did I cross a line, my dear?" he asks with a laugh that was supposed to be playful but ended up being shaky. Damn you and your charm, you make him too weak. And instead of being merciful, you just chuckle at his struggles!

Tease him back!!!!! Kiss his cheeks!!!! Or his lips!!! In this moment, he's all yours. You want to cuddle? He'll be happy to. You want something more intimate? He will oblige. Just let him know you want push him away no matter what.

#hsr #aventurine #honkai star rail #reader insert #hsr aventurine #walp's writing #aventurine x reader #run out of symbols again goddamn

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— SWEET KANSAS HONEY

SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx

“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.

“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously.

“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use.

She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look.

“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.

“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.

“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back.

“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.

“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink.

“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”

“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention.

“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it.

“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.

“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages.

dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((

She laughed softly.

dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me.

Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working.

dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.

She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message.

dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy.

She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face.

me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out.

me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute.

me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X

She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more.

She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.

Dean was in the shower.

Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

dean : I fig read what you seny

She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice.

“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.

“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock.

“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up.

“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal.

“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned.

“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly.

She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster.

“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.

He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself.

“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”

Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.

“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel.

“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.

“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated.

“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.

“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors.

“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up.

“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled.

“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.

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rrrrinmaru · 2 months

Text

bury me (raf x mc, nsfw)

wc: 3949 rating: E warning: pussy eating, strip tease

Up until the moment you’re sat in the entertainment room that’s apparently been renovated on emergency notice, you don’t quite believe the situation you’ve found yourself in.

It started as an off-handed comment you didn’t think much of. Frankly, you didn’t think anything of it—the two of you were watching a movie (ok, Magic Mike, it was Magic Mike) and you mentioned, casual as ever, that you’ve always wanted to see a lap dance up close.

Rafayel went still. But Rafayel goes still at the strangest things—he once froze up at the sight of you petting a cat on the sidewalk and fell to the ground right next to the fire hydrant, in broad view of everyone walking down that very pavement—so again, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he wanted to see a lap dance up close as well. Maybe, irrationally, he got a little jealous at the thought of you thinking of watching other men grind against flushed women, eyes bright as they watch the sheen of sweat on thick muscles centimetres away from their face.

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect—

“You spent how much on the lights?” You ask, bewildered. “You got these custom made?”

“I wasn’t about to install cheap LED lights in my house,” Rafayel replies, fiddling with something in the corner. “The cost doesn’t matter. The real expensive baby was the audio system, but I already owned that before I got the bright idea to remodel this place.”

“You spent money to turn a room in your house into a strip club?” You say, voice slightly hysterical on the last two words. You almost don’t want to know the answer to your next question, but things have already progressed far enough. There’s no coming back from this. “Where’s the stripping pole?”

Rafayel shrugs. He’s wearing this thin, sheer fabric; so pale it’s almost transparent. It clings to the width of his shoulders, dipping down between the slope of his shoulder blades and the top tapers off at his waist. When he turns around, you can’t help but stare at the (quite frankly) whorish cut at the front.

The front of the shirt has this deep plunge all the way down to his abdomen. It’s practically two strips of fabric loosely folded over each other, and if he bends over, you get a full view of the hard planes of his chest and the curve of his tits.

He’s also wearing leather pants. Did you mention that? They look like they were painted on. The material stretches tight over his thighs, making him look even taller than he already does.

His feet are bare, toes curling into the rug covered floor. Rafayel stands there, weight shifted to one leg as he always does, and he practically preens under your undivided attention. Under your greedy, hungry gaze as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Behind him, the stereo system flares to life. This persistent, thumping drum beat slowly starts to build.

“Can’t we just—you know?” You say without thinking, leaning forward instinctively at the thought of getting your mouth on Rafayel. Has he even looked in a mirror before he decided on this particular set of clothes?

Rafayel smirks. Fuck, you swear you can see the literal imprint of his cock through his pants.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice honeyed as he takes his sweet time to walk over to you, that casual, loping stride that you can’t look away from. “Be patient.”

“This is the first time you’ve turned down my offer,” you say petulantly. “Please?”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Rafayel says, eyes glittering as he leans over. His hands land on the back of the curved sofa you’re seated on—they frame you like a solid wall of muscle, caging you in his embrace. His legs are on either side of your thighs, close enough that you swear you can feel the kiss of leather against your skin, the sheer heat radiating off his body.

The beat is loud, now. It’s loud enough that it sounds like you’re at a club; it sinks through your chest, filling your body up like a balloon as it seizes your senses. Your heart pulses in time with the heavy, throbbing bass—you stare up, eyes wide as all you hear is the sound of your heart and all you see is Rafayel’s eyes.

You could drown in that gaze. You know you could.

“No touching,” Rafayel breathes out. When he bends over, cheek barely milimetres away from your own, your breath hitches at the view down his shirt. “First rule of the club, Miss. No touching the performers.”

“Raf,” you whine, fingers curling desperately into fists by your side as you trace your eyes over the curve of his Adam’s Apple, the crook of his shallow collarbone, the slope of his tits and the fucking sight of his nipples, pebbling from the cold. You want to flick them. You want to put your hands on his abdomen and cup his tits and you want to mess him up.

“It’s better when you wait for it,” Rafayel murmurs. His breath is hot against the crook of your ear, and you can feel the break in his breathing when he laughs. “Do you like this?”

“Do something,” you whine, tilting your head back just to get a better look at the lithe line of Rafayel’s body hovering over yours. It’s driving you insane, having him this close but not touching—you’ve been conditioned to expect skin contact from Rafayel, his little absent-minded touches as he grazes his shoulder against yours, a hand curving around your waist to gently nudge you aside when he walks by, fingers wrapping around yours.

When he exhales, you swear you can see it. The shadow of smoke in the dim light, swooping down in the empty space between both of your lips. It’s maddening having him here, having this sliver of space between you two. You could reach up around his waist and drag him down; you could wrap one hand around the base of his neck and pull and he would go, sweetly, obediently, and he would make the most delicious sounds into your mouth.

You know this. You know it like you know the back of your hand, because he’s done it a million times before. You think you’ve never known anyone as well as you know Rafayel—like looking into a deep pool of still water and finding your reflection looking back.

Rafayel hums, the heat of his breath scattering over your collarbones as he rolls his hips. You swallow, mind spinning from the slightest scrape of tight leather against your thighs. He does it again, hips grinding in this slow, torturous move right above your core.

“Your muscles,” you say weakly, eyes riveted to the tension in his abdomen. His muscles are taut, pale skin clearly visible through the dip in his shirt. A bead of sweat drips down, tracing a path between his pectorals and down, down, down—

Your eyes follow it greedily, wishing you could chase after it with your tongue.

“You look delirious,” Rafayel whispers, his voice low and hoarse. There’s a husk to his words, and you can’t help the way you swallow, fingers tightening further into fists. You’re familiar with that voice. That’s how he sounds after he’s been worked up beyond belief, until all he can think of is laying you out and eating you clean.

This is clearly doing it for him too, just as much as it’s working on you. The lights flicker, bleeding from one color into the next. It’s crazy how Rafayel looks bewitching in every color; the neon red light looks like crimson splashed across his face, highlighting the cut of his cheekbone and the glint of his teeth when he smirks at you. The blue light casts his face into darkness, smoothing his features out and the shadow stretches over him, the color melting into his hair. He looks like a siren rising out of a water surface, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted, fingers itching to steal your soul away.

You’re possessed by the sudden desire to dump a glass of water on him. This look would be greatly improved if he was drenched to the bone, you think dizzily, with crystal droplets hanging off his eyelashes, dipping in the crook of his lips, pooling in his clavicle. His shirt, translucent as it is, would turn completely transparent. It would cling to his skin even more than it already does.

“Please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re begging for. His hands on you. His mouth on you. His weight on you, pressing you down, holding you in place as he does whatever he wants to your body.

His smirk is so self-satisfied that you want to kiss it off his lips.

“Patience,” he murmurs. Rafayel braces his knees against the seat of the couch and leans back, wearing a brazen look as he looks at you. His smile spreads as he crooks his fingers at you—you bend forward, lips parting as if ready to use your tongue to trace the grooves on his abdomen.

Rafayel laughs. It’s a smug sound, but you can’t even fault him. He cuts a stunning figure like this, thighs spread and framed in shining leather, shirt so low and open that you don’t know where to look; the light drips over his skin like someone poured liquid gold all over him, drenching him in a moving pattern of red and blue lights.

He holds a hand out. “Your hand,” he says, and you quickly put your palm in his like you’re no better than a dog.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel teases, flipping your hand over to press a kiss to your fingertips before he pulls it to his jaw. You flex your fingers, trying to swallow past the sudden thudding of your heart as he presses your hand to the slant of his jaw, down to the line of his neck.

You’re not given any time to linger on the heat radiating off his body. He pulls your hand further down, your fingers grasping uselessly at the meat of his chest, trembling as your palm flattens against his skin.

And then, as if he’s been doing this all his life, Rafayel arches his back. His muscles roll in this slow, sinuous movement as he drags your hand down his abdomen.

You can feel it in aching clarity. The expanding of his rib cage as he breathes, the tension in his muscles as he clenches his abdomen to even out the grind of his hips. The heat, that absurd, blistering heat that you’re certain will melt your fingerprints clean off your fingers.

He does it again. Leans forward, eyes glittering in the flickering lights as he arches his back, letting you feel the way his muscles move under his skin as he rolls his hips.

Without thinking, you reach forward with your other hand. You’re not even sure where you’re aiming at—you just want to get your hand on him. The details can be handled later.

But Rafayel catches your wrist before your fingers even scrape past the loose material of his shirt. “No touching the merchandise,” he chides, holding you in place.

Your fingernails scratch pointedly at his abdomen. It makes him huff out a laugh—a surprised, breathy sound that for some reason gives you the urge to get your mouth on him now.

“I’m already touching you,” you breathe out, eyes glazing over when Rafayel clenches his abs just to watch the way you lose focus.

“I let you touch me,” Rafayel shoots back, smug as ever. “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”

“Raf—”

“Just enjoy it, Miss,” he murmurs, nudging one knee in between yours to slide your thighs apart. “I’m putting on a show. Don’t you like it?”

You like it a bit too much. All of a sudden, you realise why people like to keep pretty things in cages. Rafayel would look entrancing like that, you think, eyes wandering over his body. Lounging in a long column of water with transparent walls, like a fish tank in an aquarium large enough to store a whole pod of dolphins. Stuck with no where to go.

But your breath catches in your throat before you can reply with something intelligent. Rafayel presses his lips to the underside of your neck, at the spot where your jaw meets your throat—featherlight, so quickly that you almost miss it.

While you’re frozen, breath trapped under your tongue, he hums and traces a faint path down your body. His lips on your neck, your collarbones, the dip between your tits—he leans down, switching to your bare arm when the fabric of your slip dress gets in the way.

Surely he can feel it. The pulse of your heartbeat under your skin, a mile a minute, fluttering at the sight of his half-crescent lips trailing against the sensitive underside of your forearm.

And then he gets on his knees. He’s right there, eyes bright and glittering like jewels under the dancing lights as he leans forward to press the side of his cheek against your thigh.

You can feel the way his breath heats up against your knee. It feels like he’s burning a mark into you, etching the shape of his lips into your skin. You won’t ever be able to remove it. It’ll be branded into your inner thigh, the crimson half-moon stains that mark you as his.

“Spread your legs for me,” Rafayel whispers, lips curving into a smile. “Open up, baby.”

The flush in your cheeks feels absurd. You must look drunk, inebriated after one too many shots as your thighs spread instinctively to frame Rafayel in between them. He reaches up, each hand wrapping around the outside of your knees, fingers dipping into the crook at the back.

His grip is light, barely any pressure on your legs, but you feel like his hands may as well be two shackles against your knees, holding you in place.

“Wider,” he says, eyes brilliant in the flickering lights. You could drown in that gaze, if the heat in your core didn’t kill you first. “Come on, gorgeous.”

“Raf,” you groan, thighs spreading even further. It makes you slip from your position on the sofa, inching further down just to make space for your legs to open wider.

The fabric of your dress rucks up around your hips. It folds messily, and Rafayel holds your gaze in this heartstopping, torturous moment as his fingers creep up and under your dress.

There’s something about it. Something you can’t explain, not even with an entire dictionary at your disposal. There is something about the way you can’t see his fingers, his palms as he slides them further up your thighs, below the crease of silk. The way the back of his hands and his wrists slowly, gradually disappear under your dress. While he keeps his gaze on you, eyes burning with such intent and desire it makes you breathless.

His fingers bump up against your underwear, the way the fabric digs into your thighs. The shock of it all makes you yelp a little, hands flying forward to feel blindly for Rafayel’s hands under your dress.

You’re not sure what purpose you want to achieve. You’re just—it’s just—it’s just a lot, okay, and the way he looks at you is so—

Rafayel doesn’t do anything. His fingers go still, frozen under your grip, but you can feel the bracing heat of them through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your damp underwear. If his fingers were to slip, you know he would be able to press his thumb against the wet spot right at your slit, or slide higher to press at your throbbing clit.

You make this low, reedy noise, and let go of his hands. You shift even lower on the sofa, back curved as you lean your head back against the headrest. Your thighs spread just a little bit wider.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes finally lowering as he lifts the skirt of your dress. “Look at how pretty you are.”

“Get on with it,” you bite out, voice shaky from arousal. The music is getting to you—the deep, pulsing bass throbs at your temples, holding your heart in a vice grip. The singer is crooning something; his deep, low voice rumbling on and on about sex and you’re too out of it to properly register the lyrics.

Rafayel pays you no mind. He takes his own sweet time to push your dress further up your hips, exposing the line of your thighs and your underwear to his hungry gaze.

And then, right under your eyes, he leans in and presses a kiss to your stiff clit.

“Raf!” You try to shut your thighs on instinct, hips jerking at the sudden pressure against your clit, but Rafayel’s hands are firm against the inside of your thighs and he holds you open. He forces your legs wider, and he looks up at you as he fits his mouth to the middle of your panties, tongue flat against where your core burns the hottest.

Fuck, you think, mouth open as you try to gasp for air. Rafayel is good at this—too good, you think, to the point where you flush when you catch yourself staring at his mouth for too long sometimes—and he breathes out on your cunt, relishing in the way your clit twitches in your panties.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Rafayel murmurs, pulling the fabric taut over your pussy so he can see your swollen clit straining through your panties. He gives it another kiss, and you arch your back at the electricity that lights your body up when he does that. Rafayel knows what you like, and he wields that knowledge like a weapon.

You gaze at him, eyes half-lidded as you try to reach for his hair. Rafayel ducks away from your searching fingers, giving you a smile when you scowl at him.

“No touching the merchandise,” he reminds you.

A disgruntled noise leaves your mouth. How are you supposed to hold him in place when he won’t let you touch him? “Take them off, Raf, please—”

It’s as if Rafayel was put on this Earth specifically to raise your blood pressure. Even when he has his mouth on your cunt, face between your legs, he’s still possessed by the overpowering urge to do something that goes against what you say.

“Not yet,” he says, nonplussed, and drags your underwear to the side to expose your dripping center. “Look at how wet you are.”

Rafayel’s voice is gravelly, hoarse as he stares at you. Your pussy clenches instinctively—his gaze feels heavy, like a physical weight bearing into you. You’d really like a physical weight bearing into you right now, actually, and you know exactly where you can find one.

He presses his tongue to your clit. Your hips spasm, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he closes his lips around your swollen bud and sucks. It feels like fire burning through your entire body, pleasure sparking in your veins when he laps at your clit. You could cum like this, his clever tongue working your clit over and over in the soft wetness of his mouth.

“So pretty,” Rafayel murmurs to himself, not even caring if you hear. He drags his tongue down, licking along the length of your cunt, spit mixing with the wetness dripping from your pussy. He rearranges his grip on your inner thigh—his palm frames the vee of your hips now, thumb pulling at the side of your cunt to open you up for his taking.

Rafayel eats you out like a man possessed. There’s this wild, desperate hunger in him, in the way he moves his mouth, the way he surfaces to gasp for air before going back to dip his tongue into your pussy and lick at your insides. He eats you out so greedily that you can truly believe he would be happy here, trapped between your legs and buried in your cunt for so long he goes breathless while you go cross-eyed with pleasure so overwhelming it makes you dizzy.

“Fuck,” Rafayel groans, panting against your cunt. His breath feels like he’s blowing hot smoke against your clit, making it twitch uncontrollably with every gust of air over it. You’re so worked up that just this is enough to make your hips jerk forward, chasing the ghost of his mouth to try to get it back on your cunt. “You taste so fucking good, Miss—”

“More,” you beg, straining against the sofa to try to get leverage, any kind of leverage to tilt your hips up. “Please, Raf, I’m close—fuck, I’m—”

This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves his head, tongue curling as he fucks it into your throbbing pussy. You’re so close, right on the precipice—it’s like your entire body is a livewire, hips jerking uncontrollably whenever his tongue hits that sweet spot and making your nerves light up with pleasure. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open; you want to keep your eyes on Rafayel, to see the way his curls bounce as he mouths hungrily at your cunt. But the pleasure is so devastating, so mind-numbing that you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, your body unable to concentrate on more than one sensation at once.

Your clit is so stiff that it aches. And when Rafayel licks at it, flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and relishing in the desperate, needy sounds falling from your mouth—

It crescendos like a tsunami wave rising to its peak. Your body freezes, mouth falling open as you arch your back, pushing up, up, up against Rafayel’s tongue. It spreads through you like a wildfire, burning you up from the inside out. Your mind is blank, you can’t think, you can’t even make a sound.

You just gasp, silent as the orgasm crashes over you like the tide, taking you under and drowning you beneath the water. Rafayel keeps fucking going, sucking at your clit to keep you right on that knife’s edge, pleasure melting into overstimulation because he knows you like it when it aches. When it becomes a little biting, when it starts to hurt just a little.

He laps at your clit until you shiver, hands weakly pressing against his forehead. Rafayel gives your cunt one last lick, sucking at the lips of your pussy and licking his lips when he catches your gaze.

“All done?” He asks, reaching up to wipe the visible remnants of your orgasm from his jaw. “Another one?”

“I want to suck your cock,” you say, the breath still mostly fucked out of you. “Come—come here.”

“Nuh-uh,” Rafayel tells you, rising back to his feet. The music is still thumping through the walls, resounding in the room as you tilt your head back and stare up at him. “I’m not done. It isn’t a strip show until I’ve gotten naked.”

You blink at him. He still—

“Okay,” you say uselessly. You can see the thick outline of his cock through his pants, so visible that you’re almost certain the leather will burst. “Go on.”

He gives you this smug, confident smile, and you politely don’t mention how the bottom half of his mouth is still wet from your cum.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #恋与深空 #祁煜 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空

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aceandersonn · 4 months

Text

The Older Sibling-PART ONE

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist

(Anakin Skywalker x GN!reader)

Word Count: 4377 words

Outline: Reader is desperate to find a job and lands one babysitting one of the richest kids in town. Excited to start, reader eventually meets the older brother of the kid they're babysitting, and finds out he's the biggest jerk (and most handsome) man in town

Warning(s): MATURE CONTENT: Swearing, kissing without consent, Anakin being a jerk for no reason, enemies to lovers trope ig

Story below the cut

You were doing anything to get a job. All your debts from college were building up quicker than you liked and you were overwhelmed with the idea of being sent to jail for having too much money due.

So you found yourself getting a job as a nanny. Yes, a nanny. You were to look after a young girl around the age of 7 all day and prepare all meals for her. The job was simple enough. Now being a graduate from University, you no longer have to worry about studying for things and getting good grades.

What made this job hard was you weren’t working for some random family that you found online that needed a job. You were working for the incredibly wealthy family that seemed to ‘rule’ the small town you lived in. The Skywalkers.

They owned just about every successful business. And, they were also related to the Mayor of the town. Which is quite a big deal.

So, when you pulled up to the Skywalker residence almost five minutes late, you were worried that you were going to get fired immediately. But, you still held your breath and prayed to the Maker that your day would go just fine and you wouldn't have to worry about job hunting for at least a few years now.

When the door was opened, you were confused to see someone you didn’t even recognise. He was at least 6 feet, and he looked like he was about to just slam the door back into your face when he made eye contact with you.

“Um. . .” You trailed off.

“Who are you and what do you want?” The man asked you.

“I-” You began but were interrupted when an older lady walked up behind and practically shoved him out of the way.

“Hello dear! You must be Y/N! I am so glad you came, I hope Mr. Windu didn’t frighten you off. He’s just our home's security guard since we have had a few break-ins over the years. He might look scary but I promise you he’s a big teddy bear (Mr. Windu huffed at that, to which the Lady smiled to) Well, nevermind that! Come in, come in! Ahsoka can’t wait to meet her new caretaker. And did I mention how grateful I am for your help? I can go on and on all day about it.”

She waved you into the house and you followed in, the door being slammed behind you.

You smiled when you made eye-contact with the woman and immediately recognised her. Shmi Skywalker.

“Mother, who is this?” You heard a small voice call out from behind you. You turned around and noticed a small, young girl standing straight. She wore a pretty red dress that flowed off her waist elegantly and her hair was tied up into two french braids that went past her shoulders. She had bright blue eyes and she had small freckles dotting her face. You had to admit: She was one adorable little girl.

“Hello there,” You smiled. “You must be Ahsoka. I am your new caretaker, Y/N.”

The young girl grinned and ran up to you and gave you a tight hug.

“Hi! I am so so happy you are finally here! My older brother left for work and I was gonna die of boredom.”

You giggled at the young girl’s dramatic speech and grasped her hand firmly.

“Why don’t you show me where you usually play?” You asked her with a twinkle of mischief in your voice.

“I’m so glad to see you both are getting along just fine.” Shmi interrupts you with a happy tone of voice. You turned your head to meet her gaze and gave her a small smile.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mrs. Skywalker.”

“Not a problem dear. Now I have some work to do. I won’t be back till at least 12 tonight. So feel free to take the spare room near Ahsoka’s room. Since I often am out late, you can expect to find yourself there quite often if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Ma’am. I brought enough things for one night.” You politely replied.

“Splendid! Well, Ahsoka darling, I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early, hopefully.”

Shmi opened her arms for a hug and Ahsoka broke from your grasp and ran to her mother.

“Good-bye Mother! I love you.” Ahsoka whispered. Shmi gave her a small peck on her cheek before she rushed out the door. When the door closed behind her, you faced Ahsoka and gave her a small and cheeky smile.

“So, what do you want to do?” You asked her.

“I want to dress up! And also, can we bake some cookies?” Ahsoka asked with puppy dog eyes. You giggled at her interesting combo of activities.

“Sure, but you have to choose which one you want to do first.”

Ahsoka stood completely still for a moment before she grins.

“How about we dress up AND bake at the same time? We could pretend we are in the 1800’s and we sell baked goods for a living!” Ahsoka beamed over her idea and your heart just about melted. The way a child’s imagination works always fascinated you. You for one never had much of a childhood since you came from a poorer family and worked to help as long as you could remember. But you never let that stop you from supporting children who are fortunate to do what they want and when they wanted.

“Sure.” You grabbed Ahsoka’s hand before deciding to pick her up. “Now, how about you show me where your room is so we can get changed?”

+++

About two hours later, you both were dressed in robes that Ahsoka found in her dress up closet and had completed a nice batch of chocolate-chip cookies. By the time lunch came around, Ahsoka had almost four cookies and was high from the sugar and was (literally) bouncing off of walls.

You then decided it was best for the both of you to go outside to the backyard and play out there for a while to get rid of some of her built up energy. Ahsoka was of course running around the whole time. It wasn’t until about an hour later that she was completely drained of sugar and with heavy feet walked back to where you had seated on the porch overlooking the large yard.

“Hello Ahsoka, are you okay?” You asked when you noticed her attitude had changed from her usual cheery self. She nodded and sat beside you before she leant her head onto your shoulder.

“I am okay.I just miss my older brother, Y/N.” She whimpered as tears began to fill her eyes. You hugged her from the side and rested your chin on her small head.

“It’s alright, I’m pretty sure he misses you too.”

“I don’t think so. He is an adult now and he’s never ever home to play with me.” Ahsoka said with a pout. “I believe that big brother has replaced me with his job and loves his job more than me.”

“What’s your older brother's name?” You asked her with a gentle tone. Ahsoka’s facial expression changed from one of anger to one of joy within a few seconds. And from that observation, you realised that she seemed to love talking about her older brother.

“His name is Kinny. Or at least that’s what I call him. I don’t ever call him by his real name because he thinks it’s stupid. Also, some of his friends call him Vader. But I personally believe that name is dumber” Ahsoka shrugged. You hummed at the new information before you pulled out your phone to get an idea about the time.

“Well, it’s around supper time now. Are you hungry for anything in particular?” You asked the young girl. Ahsoka nodded slowly before a familiar mischievous grin graced her features.

“Can we have cookies for dinner?”

You let out a small laugh at the response before you shook your head.

“You have had way too many cookies for today, young one. I think we should save some for your older brother when he gets home.”

Ahsoka seemed pleased with the arrangement and agreed.

+++

After about an hour or so you had Ahsoka go to bed. After she fell asleep, you decided to go downstairs to read a book that you brought with you to entertain yourself until you decided that it was your bedtime. You sighed quietly and continued to flip through the book, but your ears perked up when you heard the front door open. You sat up straight when you remembered that Mrs. Skywalker said she wouldn’t be home as early as 12, and it currently was around 9pm. You peered over the top of your book and noticed someone was standing in front of you.

“Um. . .hi?” you cringed at the question. The stranger, (being a young man of at least older than 20 years of age) gave you a questioning look. From the looks of it, he was at least 6 foot 2 and had an even scarier appearance than the guy you met this morning at the door. He had ocean blue eyes and a scar ran down the left side of his cheek.

You gulped quietly when you noticed he began to walk over to you slowly.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?” he asked you. That was when you realised who this man was. It was the other Skywalker; Ahsoka’s older brother. Kinny? Was that his name?

“I’m Y/N. Who are you?” You asked with the most confidence you could muster. The man raised a brow at the question.

“You don’t know who I am?” He asked you with amusement in his eyes. You nodded way too quickly for your own liking. But he was making you nervous and you didn’t exactly want to respond with words at the moment. You feared you would accidentally say something wrong and get kicked out of the house before your brain could even process it.

“Seriously?”

You made eye-contact with the stranger again and raised your brow this time.

“Seriously what?”

“You really have no idea who I am?”

“No? Am I supposed to?” You sheepishly answered and nearly squealed when the stranger took another step closer to you.

“I am Anakin Skywalker. How the heck do you not know that? I like-run multiple businesses that are scattered across this town. Including The Order? You know, the biggest arcade and restaurant in town?”

You stood there dumb-found when you realised who he really was. Anakin Skywalker. The Anakin Skywalker. You had heard about him from your group of girl friends who all simp over him like love-sick animals. But you never paid much attention to those sorts of things. You didn’t even have any social media accounts since you used a crappy flip-phone. Even though the Skywalker’s were basically the rulers of the small town of Coruscant, you never cared much to find out who they really were and what they looked like.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never been to an arcade.” You told him with a shy smile when you saw his face go from one of curiosity to bewilderment.

“What?! What rock have you been hiding under?” he rudely replied to the new information.

You rolled your eyes at his response before you continued to read the book you sat down before the conversation began. It was quite obvious that this small action added fuel to the fire; and it took a second for you to realise that your book was snatched out of your hands and thrown onto the floor.

“Hey, why did you do that?” you calmly asked him. You weren’t someone who often looked for trouble, it went against all the things your beloved parents ever taught you.

“Why do you think?! I was talking to you and you decided to ignore me!” He shouted. In his fit of rage he brought his hand up to his hair and pulled on it. You watched the scene he was making unravel with a straight face. It was incredibly difficult seeing a grown man act like a five year old child.

“Umm for the record Mr. Skywalker, you were basically scrutinising how I live my life. I don’t care what you think, and I don’t do what every other person in this town does. So leave me be and get on with your evening. Good-night.” At those words, you stood up from where you were seated and walked to the book Anakin had earlier grabbed and thrown to the floor. But as you began to walk away, your arm was grabbed and you were pulled into the very strong chest of Anakin Skywalker.

“I wasn’t done talking to you.” Anakin said calmer than before. You tried to pull away from his grip but it was no use. He was incredibly strong. You sighed in frustration.

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry you're such a Hobbit and don’t search for adventure.” Anakin grinned at his stupid joke. You however dryly laughed before you kicked him in the shins and began to walk to the room you were given.

“Why you fucking-I’LL TELL MY MOTHER!” He yelled before he practically bounded up the stairs to what you assume was his room and heard a door slam shut.

“What a prick.” you said to yourself calmly before closing the doors to your own room.

+++

You woke up early the next morning and got dressed into comfortable clothing for the day. You wore a nice pair of jeans and a large sweater since it was a bit chilly outside.

You decided to start up breakfast for Ahsoka since it was part of your job to do so. There was a small decision between pancakes and porridge. Eventually, you decided to make some pancakes and began to look around the kitchen for the ingredients.

After about ten minutes or so, you jumped at the sound of a coffee machine turning on. You looked up from what you were doing and noticed a very-much grumpy Anakin Skywalker. His arms were folded and his hair was matted to his face. You sheepishly smiled at him before turning around and continuing on with what you were doing before.

“What are you doing?” you heard a groggy voice. You turned back around and noticed Anakin was standing directly behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you attempted to shove him back a ways. He smirked at your failure before he stepped up closer to you. He could feel him breathing down your neck and you shivered. You turned around and your face was mere millimetres away from his. You gulped and attempted to move away from him but found you were stuck between the counter and him.

“What do you mean? I’m just standing here.” He grinned when he realised he’s struck a tick that bothers you.

“You're way too close to me. Can you move back a few steps? Actually, a few feet?” You once more attempted to push him back but he just stood his ground and didn’t even move a centimetre. You groaned aloud in annoyance and just turned around and attempted to ignore his presence.

Meanwhile, Anakin was having the thrill of his life. He wanted to watch what you were doing and wanted to be as close as possible. Y/N (and whatever your last name was) was interesting to him. He never met someone so young who lived in a way you did. You couldn’t have been much younger than he was, and he was about to turn 24 in a few months. He decided to test dangerous waters and stept even closer to you. His body pressed against your own; he let out a nervous breath when he noticed you continued to do what you were doing and completely ignored his existence.

Meanwhile, you were having a literal heart attack. Like what the actual fuck is this man doing? Isn’t this illegal?

Your head swarmed with many questions and before you realised it, the pancake batter was done. The only problem being Anakin standing literally behind you.

“You may as well fuse with my body, Skywalker,” you told him when you realised he still wouldn’t let you move.

“I wouldn't mind that.” He said to himself.

“What?” You asked, confused on what he was mumbling about.

“You know,” he began, a smirk growing across his handsome face. “Instead of sitting on babies, maybe you should sit on my lap?” Anakin flirted.

You just about froze at what you heard. Who does he think he is? Sitting on babies?

“Bloody hell? What are you on about?” you paled.

“You're my sister's babysitter are you not?” He asked.

“I-yes?” you were still confused. That was until you thought about the fact that he said ‘babysitter’. You sighed heavily when you realised you are practically gonna look after two children instead of just one that was already pretty mature for such a young age.

“Skywalker, I am trying to make breakfast. I would appreciate it if you would get out of my bloody way.”

“Woah, chill out. I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”

You just about tackled him to the ground when you heard that. You made eye contact with him and tried to look threatening. But to no avail, you found yourself immediately looking away. His face was angelic. His bright blue eyes, curly dirty-blonde hair; and the grin he sent you made him look even more handsome.

You decided to just once again ignore him and began to cook the pancakes on the stove. You were glad when you didn’t feel him standing behind you anymore. But when you turned around to serve plates, you ran right into him once more.

You were about to yell at him when you felt him grab a hold of your waist and you felt lips connect with yours. It took you a few seconds to realise you were kissing him; and completely by accident. You didn’t kiss back as you were frozen in complete and utter shock. You looked up and noticed Anakin was looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

But one thing for sure you did know, was how pissed you were about the situation.

“Huh, that’s never happened to me before. And it took, what, only a few hours for you to try and make out with me?” Anakin said with a cocky tone of voice. Your head nearly blew up in rage when he said that. Make out with him? Mate, you must be mental. You took steady breaths to try and calm yourself down.

“You-” you paused when you got a hold of yourself. “You just stole my first kiss, you bastard.”

Much to your surprise you watched Anakin smile at you.

“That makes it even better then, can I kiss you again? And what do you even mean by ‘steal’? You kissed me, not the other way around.”

You could feel tears begin to settle in your eyes but you held them back.

“I didn’t even want to kiss you the first time, you sorry excuse of a human.” You said with a shaky voice. As your mother had always said, it’s usually the men that were incredibly handsome that caused a lot of anger and heartbreak. And she was right. You always thought it was a joke to protect you from doing dumb things, but now, you realised she wasn’t that wrong. Your first kiss was stolen, by a stuck up, rude prick.

Anakin looked taken aback at your statement.

“What do you mean you didn’t want to kiss me? Everyone wants to kiss me.” That was all it took for you to confirm that Anakin Skywalker was a hot-headed, self-centred, arrogant man.

You huffed at him and finished serving plates. After you made the last plate you saw a familiar face walk up to you in the large kitchen.

“Good-morning Ahsoka, did you sleep well?” you asked her with a cheery voice. Anakin raised his brow when he noticed your change in attitude.

Ahsoka nodded and walked up to stand next to you. She reached up to grab a plate for herself and you helped her. She giggled in thanks and ran towards the dinning room to eat her food.

“Little prick didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me.” you heard a very grumpy Anakin complain.

“Maybe if you were a ‘good big brother that spent time with her often,’ she’d say ‘hi’ to you.” You smirked before grabbing your own plate and walked to the dining room to find Ahsoka.

+++

Breakfast was over quickly and you began to clean up the mess from it. Anakin had left shortly after he snatched a couple of pancakes to do who knows what. You were quite glad he was no longer there to mope around and cause trouble.

“Y/N! Can we go to the aquarium today? I want to see mermaids and fishes!” Ahsoka practically screamed when you finished putting the last plate into the dishwasher.

“The aquarium? Which one? There are many here.”

“Kamino Aquarium, obviously.”

You gulped. Of course the young Skywalker has been to the most extravagant aquarium Coruscant had to offer.

“How about we go somewhere else? Like the park or the public pool? It’s a far drive to Kamino and back.”

Ahsoka hummed in thought. She made a face that uncannily looked like the one Anakin made when he was teasing you-wait, why are you thinking about Anakin?

You shook your head at your thoughts and looked back at Ahsoka who seemed to know what she wanted to do.

“Can we go to the Park? It’s close to where Kinny works and he might stop by and say hello.”

Your smile dropped and you felt like frowning. Of course that insolent pup is going to be there. You brought your hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Sure, ‘Soka, we can go to the park.” You sighed through your nose and began to head up to your temporary room to grab your things. Ahsoka jumped up and down in excitement and ran to her room to get herself ready.

+++

“Y/n! Looky! Kinny is here!” Ahsoka shouted at the top of her lungs. You watched her jump off the swings she was on and bound towards the entrance of the small playground. You didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the presence of the other adult. Instead, you crossed your arms and legs and sat with gritted teeth on the small bench that overlooked the park.

“And hello to you too, Y/n/n.” you heard a familiar voice. You rolled your eyes and turned to face the culprit of all your troubles of the past 24 hours.

“Y/n/n? Really? Already on nicknames?” you huffed in annoyance.

“Yup. And you can call me anything you want as well.”

“How about dumbarse?” You said through clenched teeth.

Anakin chuckled and shook his head.

“Careful, Y/n/n, we have a pair of young ears listening.”

“Kinny, what is dumb arms?” Ahsoka asked innocently. Anakin snorted and you choked on the air you were breathing.

“Umm. . .he isn’t able to control his arms.” you said, hoping she would accept the answer. Anakin raised a brow at that, and was about to argue before Ahsoka bursted into a fit of giggles.

“Kinny, is that why you have people at your workshop help you? You can’t lift weights? I thought you were a strong person.”

“Wha-? I am! Y/n doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Nuh uh, she went to adult school and you only went to teen school. She is, therefore, smarter than you.” Ahsoka stuck her tongue out at Anakin, before getting bored with the conversation and scurried off towards the play set where other kids her age were playing.

“Really? That was the best you could think of?”

“Well, I’m so sorry, but you weren’t gonna talk so I did.”

“Now my sister thinks I am incapable of doing things.”

“From what I’ve seen of you? You’re not totally incapable.” you said, suddenly interested in picking the skin around your nails.

“Really? Like what?” You smirked at his reply. He was a compliment seeker. How convenient, time to hurt his pathetically large ego.

“You’re exceptionally good at making a terrible first impression. Your flirting skills are mediocre, and you throw more tantrums than a four year old.”

You looked back up to see his reaction, and was confused to see him grinning ear-to-ear.

“You don’t like the way I flirt? Tell me, what do you like then?”

Your jaw dropped to the ground. What the heck is this man on? You basically just degraded him and he wasn’t even going to acknowledge it? You felt something touch your knee and noticed it was his hand. You didn’t even see him sit down next to you, that and the fact he’s basically trying to sit on you.

“S-Skywalker, can you please move? You're in my personal space.” You tried to push him back.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I already gave you a reason.”

“No, not that.”

“Then what, Skywalker?” You groaned in annoyance. You felt his hand begin to move up to your thigh and your breath got caught in your throat. This was definitely illegal.

“Why do you hate me so much? Why don’t you like me?” He whispered.

“I don’t hate you. I just really despise you and how you act. You were rather rude to me last night, and you kissed me without my consent.”

“I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter ‘who kissed who’, it still happened and you tried to make a joke out of it.”

“I was just teasing you-”

“No, Anakin. You shouldn’t do that to people. It ninety-nine percent of the time rubs them the wrong way.” With that, you stood up from the bench and walked to where Ahsoka was playing.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

PART TWO OUT SOON

#x reader #star wars #anakin #fanfic #x y/n #clone wars #modern au #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #modern!anakin

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beenbaanbuun · 6 months

Text

domestic bliss - jeon wonwoo

words - 0.9k

genre - …fluff

warnings - mentions of gambling

A/N - I was in my wonwoo feels so I wrote this… I hope you enjoy!!

You weren’t really one for gambling, but you’d buy 100 lottery tickets if you thought it would give you even the slightest chance to quit your job.

Honestly, you were considering it for a moment or two. It seemed like such a good idea at that moment in time, but you somehow managed to pull yourself away, happy in the knowledge that you wouldn’t have spent a bunch of money that you’d never get back. Besides, you needed that money to live on and you were much too proud to ask anyone else for a loan if you didn’t win.

With a sigh, you walked past the convenience store and carried on your walk home. You’d just had a hard day, you told yourself, that’s all it was. You just needed to take a deep breath and get over it. Work was sure to be better in the morning…

Not even you believed that much of a lie.

Your house was almost silent when you got home, the only sign of life being the rapid clicking on your boyfriend's gaming mouse coming from his home office, which was more of a gaming room than anything. The door was swung wide open, the blue of his LED lights leaking out into the hallway. It was inviting, but you’d hate to ruin Wonwoo’s fun with your miserable mood.

You took your coat off, hanging it up on one of the hooks by the door, before slipping your shoes off and kicking them in the vague direction of the shoe rack. Tidying was an issue for later, for now, all you wanted was to get into your warm bed and tuck yourself away for the remainder of the evening.

Your foot touched the first step and then…

“Babe, is that you?” A deep voice sounded through the apartment halting your steps.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you responded, making no effort to go to him. Surely he’d understand that you were tired, right?

“Were you not going to come and say hello?”

With a sigh, you retreated your foot from the step and began walking down the corridor to the room where Wonwoo was.

“Sorry, Wonu,” you grumbled as you turned the corner, your tired eyes landing on his pretty face. His bright eyes twinkled behind his glasses as they met yours, and you noticed the corners of his mouth tip up in a smile. “I’m just tired.”

“Were you going to bed, then?” He asked.

You nodded.

“It’s been a rough day,” was all you said in return.

Wonwoo didn’t need you to say anything else before he was beckoning you towards him. You complied, your tired feet guiding you to where he sat on his gaming chair. Warm hands made their way to your hips and before you knew it, you were being dragged onto your boyfriend's warm lap to straddle him. He let out a hum as you let yourself go limp in his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, voice gentle as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Later,” you replied, enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend's warm torso pressed against your own. You let your arms snake around his neck in a tight hug which Wonwoo responded to with an airy chuckle.

“Just want me close, huh?” You nodded, “I can do that.”

And he did. He held onto you with a tight grip as if you were going to get up and leave if he didn’t. One hand sat on your lower back, holding your body close to his, whilst the other sat at the back of your head. It was leant upon his shoulder, your face pressed into his neck. Not once did he make the move to go back to his game, or check his phone. He was completely fine as he was; with you in his lap, eyes getting heavier with every second that passed.

If you wanted to sleep, Wonwoo would let you. He was more than happy to keep you safe and sound in his arms as you slipped away from reality, the stress of the day melting away from you. When the time came, he’d carry you up to bed and change you out of your work clothes. He’d tuck you in before getting himself ready and slipping in beside you, just so he could continue to hold you close.

He smiled at the thought of getting to take care of you, it was why he’d asked you to move in, after all. It was a mystery how he’d survived so long without seeing your face every day as you came home from work. Without holding you close like he was right then, or cooking together on the nights you weren’t working late. It just felt so natural, like that’s the way it should’ve been.

Like you were always meant to be there, slipping away into a dreamland on his lap.

With one final flutter of your lashes against his neck, your breathing finally evened out. You became a dead weight on his lap, but he didn’t mind. It was comforting to have your body pressing up against his like a warm blanket on a winter's day. So he closed his eyes and relished the feeling, hoping that it would never end and the two of you could stay in that moment forever.

He knew that eventually, he would have to take the two of you up to bed, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy what he had. You, the love of his life, sleeping in his lap.

If this was what the present with you was like, God, Wonwoo couldn’t wait to see the future…

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo oneshot

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year

Note

Ooo hello! Can I please request a Tangerine x fem!civilian!reader where Tan and Lemon taught her how to defend herself just Incase, because Tan & Lemon have made a lot of enemies that could go after Y/n since she’s Tangerine’s gf. Then one day, one of their enemies did target Y/n, but she was able to free herself and defend herself before Tangerine and Lemon even arrived at the location she was being held

Self defense

Warnings- Guns, blood, angst and comfort

Tangerine hoped it wouldn’t have come to this, he really hoped. But with how busy he was and how much enemies he made everyday it was nearly impossible.

“Mate, honestly, I think if it’s bothering you so much just reach her how to fight.” Lemon suggested when Tangerine expressed his concerns.

Tangerine did a lot of thinking, and as soon as he got back he told you. He always kept a gun in the house just in case, but what if you couldn’t reach it in time? What if you didn’t know how to use it? What if- he had to teach you. There was no other way.

You hesitantly agreed.

So after days and days of you training, Tangerine had to leave again. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, and said goodbye quickly. Lemon also said hi to you, as he waited at the door.

But they didn’t notice the man who was watching them from around the corner of your guys house.

“I see him. He’s with his partner. And there’s a girl inside too, I think it’s his wife.” He said, judging it based off the ring that tangerine had when he opened the car door.

“Oh, that’s even better. Check their call messages and texts every day and wait until he says he’s coming back, then before he gets there hold her hostage and wait for him. She probably doesn’t know where the money is.” His boss explained. This plan has worked way too many times.

“You got it, boss.” He said, walking away from the house and going back to his base.

—————————-

After a few days, the man had been checking the messages every day, hacking into your phone while you slept.

“Be back soon, love. 30 minutes away.” He texted, but you didn’t see it.

Perfect timing, the man thought. Unlocking your window with a knife and wedging it open. He quietly crawled inside, and landed in a bed.

This seemed to your guys bedroom, he thought. He looked around for a moment, but didn’t see anything. He opened up some drawers, to find clothes. There was also loads of books on the shelves.

He opened the door and quietly walked over to you, he stood over to where you were sleeping and had his hand on his gun.

But when he looked on the couch, you weren’t there. Instead, you were behind him. You held your own gun to his head instead.

“Fuck me.” He muttered, as you pushed it against his head.

“Put it down.” You said.

He slowly put the gun down on the floor, and put his hands up, he faced you now.

“What do you want?” You asked him.

“Ah, well you see, sweetheart, your husband owes my boss a shit ton of money. Half a million, to be exact. So, love, do you by any chance know where it is? Just tell me, because if you do kill me, my men are gonna be here in 20 minutes and they’ll blow your brains out and then your husbands.”

“I- I don’t.” You said.

“Well, that’s a shame. Hopefully your husband says so, otherwise I have to kill such a pretty face-“

You pulled the trigger, your hands shaking as you dropped the gun. He fell to the ground and his blood looked next to him, some of it getting on your shoes.

You started to shake, and cry. And then practically wailing as you held your face in your hands.

The door unlocked, and tangerine and Lemon entered.

“Hey, lo-“ he stopped as soon as he saw you and the man across from you.

He immediately dropped the key and went down next to you.

He hugged you as you cried, your tears hitting his back.

“T-T-Tan, I- he tried to kill me.I had to. I had to.” You sobbed. Lemon went over to the man and hit his head with his shoe, making sure he was dead. He picked him up, groaning and grabbing a garbage bag. He stuffed him into the garbage bag (not before spitting on his face) and opened the back door and threw him outside.

“It’s okay. You had to do it. It’s okay. It’s okay. He didn’t hurt you, right?” He muttered, he took the gun away from your shaking hands and set it aside.

“No. But that doesn’t matter.” You sobbed.

“Hey- Hey, look at me. Look at me.” He said firmly.

You looked at him.

“You had to do it. And I’m sorry. This is all my fault, alright? You saved me. You saved yourself. You did it because you had to. He was going to kill you.”

“H- He said t-that- that he was going to kill me and then kill you if you didn’t tell him where- where the money is!” You cried.

“He’s gone now. You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re safe, okay?” He said, hugging you again and rubbing patterns on your back. He picked you up and placed you into your bed. He noticed some drawers open, and the window open, he closed them both.

His eyes watered to at the possibility that you could’ve been hurt, all because of him. He cuddled with you and tried to calm you down until you eventually fell asleep.

He felt guilty. He got up, slowly, and made sure to not wake you up. He sighed as he left the room and saw lemon cleaning up some blood.

“Story of our life’s, right?” Lemon joked, trying to cheer up the mood.

Tangerine just sent him a look. And he saw that he’d been genuinely upset and nervous about this whole thing

“Mate, it isn’t your fault, alright? She’s safe now, that’s all that matters.”

“Who was he?”

“You remember that one guy from the Wales job? The boss? I think he worked for him. I remember seeing him.”

“We stole half a million, I think, right?” He said.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Fuck. This is my goddamn fault.” He muttered, and kicked a chair.

Lemon sighed “No it’s not. Stop beatin’ yourself up. She’s safe, okay? She doesn’t care that he came for you, she only cares that you’re safe. That’s the best you can do for her. Just.. be there for her.” He said.

“You’re right.. thanks Lemon.” He said.

“Always, man.” He patted his shoulder, and Tangerine went back into the room.

#tangerine x reader #bullet train #bullet train x reader #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson x reader #bullet train imagine

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

Text

CoD Western AU and Mail Order Spouse Trope

Howdy!

Welcome to my version of a Wild West AU & Mail-Order Spouse Trope. Introduction of the reader scenario will be down below and a little digital art will be added in to show our lovely options of spouses. This is Gender Neutral.

This was my first Au and trope project I’ve worked on. While I learn and decide how I want to upload this, I hope everyone enjoys or just gets a kick out of this!

Introduction & Backstory

Your life wasn’t awful, per se, but sometimes you wonder if you say that to yourself to cope with what you’ve been through. Simply put, you were your family's breadwinner, caretaker, and damage controller. You were poor-ish, where you had to use scraps of fabrics to make your clothes, but yet your father could always afford a bottle to be in his hand, and your mother out on the porch smoking whatever she needed that day to cope and try to be a mom and wife.

Coat of many colors indeed.

You worked, and you have worked from a young age to continuously support your family as you didn't have a choice if you wanted to keep the roof over your head. Although, you were thankful that your mother was adamant you went to the schoolhouse and got at least a good amount of education.

After attending school for a few years until puberty, you were in the working class; your job as a domestic servant included the taste of farmhand, tailoring, and working to cann fruits that were grown on the farm. After a long shift on the warm and humid spring day, you walked back home to hear your father yelling as usual but stopped when you heard your name being spoken.

“As soon as we sell that damn nuisance, we’ll be rolling in dough. I can’t believe that damn bastard politician wants our kin. Said once he’s back from his campaign up north he’ll come meet ‘em.” He laughs before taking another swig of his drink, your mother laughing along with him as she has a lit pipe in the house for the first time in a long time.

Now, you to truly understand the depravity of this; the seriousness of her celebrating with a lit drug inside the house.

Your stomach drops, nausea rolling over you at the thought of them selling you off to the old and decrepit wealthy politician for marriage to get money. Money that they’ll blow through, having never learned to control their vices turned addictions.

A cold sweat breaks out on you as you swallow down the urge to expel the minimal amount of food in your worn-out body, and promptly turn around and walk back into town.

Walking the dark streets, you navigate quietly and hide behind the shadows of the night with only a few dimly lit light posts flickering their oil flame light. While walking the edge of the closed shops, you see a dirty newspaper thrown on the ground and almost step over it until a small headline catches your eye.

“FRONTIER MEN, LOOKING FOR CAPABLE SPOUSE”

Your eyes scan quickly over the matrimony company advertising for men located in the frontier lands, each searching for promising spouses and wanting to marry soon. You read over the information, seeing that the listed men below are located in newly booming towns out west, a few even located in mining towns or having their own company.

Your body zings with a chill of adrenaline at the thought of diving head first into chance and change, but you knew something much better could be awaiting you…

Should you do it?

looking around, the humid and small town looks back at you as you enter a hardened state of mind; What would become if you stayed here? The disgusting politician's new toy just to break? Your parents are already planning on how to drain their funds dry within a month of letting their addictions take over? You don't have friends, your boss is the closest thing to one just because you spend hours each and every day working.

Yeah.

You're gonna fucking do it.

Taking a seat, your eyes quickly scan down the page of advertisements, looking over the small blurbs of descriptions offered. The correspondence cost would be 10 cents, meaning you have one chance to get his attention and get the new life you need.

Simon Riley Biography, Meeting Simon,

John Price Biography, Meeting John

Kyle Garrick Biography, Meeting Kyle

John MacTavish Biography, Meeting Johnny

Phillip Graves Biography, Meeting Phillip

Alejandro Vargas Biography, Meeting Alejandro

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vide0-nasties · 10 months

Text

Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher’s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare ii #ghost cod #call of duty #mw2 #ghost #I’m mentally ill and I love that he is also mentally ill and probably looks at the monarchy with disgust #if he can vote depending on whether he’s legally dead or not he voted no on brexit #some rando at base is like ‘how can you make a joke like that think about the children they lost their nan’#and he just goes ‘I’ll hunt those little shits for sport’

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lilacfiresoul · 24 days

Text

cheat, april 2 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 1,144 words

kind of went a little over here lol because this was so fun to write! anyways, enjoy <3

-----

“That’ll be 850, please,” Regulus says smugly.

Lily, rolling her eyes, reluctantly hands over a sheaf of brightly coloured Monopoly money. “And now I’m basically broke. Regulus takes my money yet again.”

Glancing over at his boyfriend, James watches Regulus add the notes to his bank, all of them arranged neatly from highest to lowest in a line next to his properties. They’re already quite far into the game, with several houses on the board and the odd few hotels, mainly on Regulus’ properties. He’s the banker, and James is unsure if that’s the reason for his success, or if he’s genuinely just a good player.

Sirius seems to think the former, as he angrily tosses the dice onto the board and lands, surprise, surprise, on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

“No!” he howls, slapping his hands on his forehead, earning a bemused look from Remus. “I swear he’s rigged the dice!”

“Sirius, how I can rig dice?” Regulus responds brusquely. “That’s 330.”

“Lily, you shouldn’t have let him be the banker,” Sirius accuses, glaring at Lily. “Whenever he’s the banker, I lose!”

James leans over to Regulus, resting his arm on the back of the chair, mumbling, “Sirius seems to think you’re a cheat, Reg.”

“He’s just a sore loser,” Regulus informs him matter-of-factly. “Every time I’m the banker, he says—”

“—It’s bad luck, Lily, he rigs it—”

“That I’m a liar,” Regulus begins.

“He lies, he schemes, he plots, he—”

“—Plans.” Regulus nods. Sirius flashes him an irritated look, but Regulus doesn’t even sound upset about it, just amused, as if he’s heard all of this before. His fingers are laced together in front of him, a businessman about to suggest a proposal. “You need to get more creative at your insults, Sirius.”

“Oh, shut up,” his brother growls, flinging the money at Regulus in a shower of coloured paper.

James can’t help chuckling, leading to Sirius narrowing his eyes at him. Caught, James drops his arm, straightening in his seat.

“I see how it is,” Sirius announces. “James is helping him.”

There’s a beat, and Regulus laughs. “I don’t need help. I build my Monopoly empire with my own blood, sweat, and tears.”

The game continues. Sirius stews in silence as Remus rolls the dice, missing Regulus’ properties completely and landing safe on an unclaimed plant. Then Mary rolls, grinning as she gives Lily 100.

“I don’t mind giving you my money,” she tells Lily, who swoons.

Regulus goes, where he lands on one of Sirius’ properties. He has to hand over 200 through gritted teeth, like it pains him to part with his fake money, much to Sirius’ delight.

And then it’s James’ turn.

It honestly couldn’t have worked out better. James rolls six, putting his figurine right on one of Regulus’ properties.

With a hotel.

“Ha!” Sirius crows, jabbing a finger at it.

Defeatedly, James asks Regulus, “How much do I owe you?”

Regulus looks at his cards, though James and everyone else at the table knows Regulus is doing it just for show, pretending as if he doesn’t know exactly how much James owes him.

“1150.”

Even though he’s played Monopoly so many times, James has never won at it. One time a few years ago, he’d played with his parents and Regulus. It had gone on for hours, and both him and Effie had lost, leaving it a tense battle between Regulus and Fleamont. James’ dad had won by the skin of his teeth, and has never let Regulus live it down.

James can’t help comparing that time to now, how he only has 500 left, majorly under the rent due, and how the same thing had happened last time. Regulus had let him lose then, hellbent on beating Fleamont, but now he has a mischievous gleam in his eye as James presents him with the last of his money.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Regulus continues. “It’s a hotel. I’ll let you stay there for free, if you give me a kiss to make up for it.”

“What?” Sirius explodes. “That’s not— You can’t do that— Lily—”

Lily holds up her hands. “It’s just my game, I can’t control what he does.”

Scrabbling for the box, Sirius finds the rulebook and flicks it open. “It’s against the rules.”

“I’m the banker.”

“That means nothing—”

Remus and Mary are silently laughing behind their hands, tears in Mary’s eyes as she tries to keep quiet. Lily’s eyes dart between the two of them, pressing her lips together.

“Are you calling my boyfriend a cheat, Sirius?” James asks innocently. “I don’t think it’s in the rulebook.”

“He’s also my bloody brother, James—”

“It’s not in the book,” Remus confirms.

A charged silence falls over the table. Regulus, grinning, hooks a finger under James’ chin to tug him closer. Entranced, James follows, like a dog with a bone, the tide to the moon, the planets to the sun.

The kiss is chaste, sweet, as people are watching, but underneath the table, Regulus squeezes James’ thigh, the promise of more to come later.

They part, and it’s an effort for James not to grab him by the neck and kiss him senseless, but he refrains, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering at the wink Regulus sends his way.

“Cheaters,” Sirius huffs. “Thought you did this alone, Reggie. If you’re doing that, I’m also doing it.”

“Be my guest. You don’t have to hotel yet,” Regulus quips.

The game continues for another few rounds. Mary goes out first, after divvying out her savings to Sirius, of all people. Remus goes out second, unable to pay his debt to Regulus. Lily is soon to follow, tossing her leftover bits of money to Regulus as well. Sirius is the fourth out, coming dangerously close to flipping the board as he also hands all of his money over to Regulus.

It’s just him and James left.

And James, in a cruel, or rather predictable, twist of fate, lands on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

It’s laughable, honestly.

Sirius puts his head in his hands and wails because his brother has won. Mary, bursting into laughter again, excuses herself to get a glass of wine, and Lily and Remus try to smother their laughter at Sirius’ dramatic reaction.

“You going to steal all of my money?” James whispers. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

“Don’t need to. I’ve already won anyway.”

Regulus kisses him again, and Sirius, mumbling something about cheaters, best friends kissing brothers, and how shitty this game is, flips the Monopoly board.

#frost's microfics #more fluff? what's gotten into me?#i suck so bad at monopoly ngl #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #james potter x regulus black #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus x james #the black brothers #marauders era #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #mary macdonald #lily evans

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