#happy birthday to my favorite artist ever! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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cosmicanakin · 3 months

Text

more than just an interview.

pairing. hayden christensen x female reader.

outline. your nerves are everywhere for your first big interview with hayden christensen himself, but things take an exciting turn when he asks for your number.

contains. fluff, reader being a fan girl, tattoos mentioned, workplace romance, anxiety nerves.

authors note. i've only ever written for hayden's characters but never for him :( so here's a little hayden fic!

your heart races as you smooth down your skirt for what feels like the hundredth time, nerves wracking your body while pacing the length of the small room. today marked your first big interview covering the much anticipated release of ahsoka, and the lucky subject chosen was none other than hayden christensen himself.

ever since the prequels first captured your imagination as a young teen, you've harbored a hopeless crush on the actor behind anakin skywalker. his smoldering screen presence and talent at bringing such depth to a complex character left you wholly enamored, fueling artistic pursuits like drawing and even getting a tattoo tribute on your 18th birthday.

glancing down at the familiar lines inked below your left wrist, fingers tracing over them brought both comfort and fresh butterflies. would hayden appreciate the sentiment behind such a permanent mark of fandom, or find it odd and off-putting? you couldn't decide which terrified you more in that moment, the impending interview or potentially showing him such an intimate secret.

before anxiety could mount further, a light knock sounded at the door. "they're ready for you y/n." with a final calming breath you nodded, steeling nerves as best able while trailing your guide down bustling halls. rounds of cameras and crew zipped to and fro in organized chaos, only serving to heighten your jittery state.

entering the room, bright lights and microphones came into view alongside your subject for the day. hayden sat relaxed in an armchair, striking features gently illuminated while conversing easily with staff. at your approach he glanced up, meeting your eyes with a warm smile that set butterflies aflutter once more.

"hayden, this is y/n l/n, she'll be conducting your interview today. make yourselves comfortable and we'll begin filming in 5." with that your guide slipped away, leaving you alone under his keen gaze that seemed to assess every minute detail.

stumbling through introductions you both settled into adjacent seats, closing the small distance between as a PA adjusted lighting and levels. "it's truly an honor hayden, i've been a huge fan of your work for so long. thank you for taking the time today."

he graced you with another genuous smile feeling heat rush your cheeks. "the pleasure is all mine y/n, i'm always happy to chat with fellow star wars enthusiasts."

you then launched into prepared questions relying heavily on note cards to steady shaking hands. hayden spoke eloquently of the joys in revisiting ahsoka and anakin's dynamic through animation, the creative challenges of lending voice without physical presence, as well as hints of where future stories may lead the beloved character.

absorbed in the discussion, you almost missed the lull signaling a natural break between topics. glancing down to reorder cards, hayden's eyes caught a glimpse of your inked tribute.

"is that...?" trailing off inquisitively, his gaze held yours in silent permission to explain. heart thundering in your ribs, you extended your arm stiffly for closer inspection with a sheepish smile.

"oh yeah, it's a little silly. but i got this on my 18th birthday as a sort of tribute to anakin. he's my favorite character in star wars thanks to you." chuckling nervously, you shrugged awaiting judgment on such a bold permanent choice.

instead, hayden gently cradled your wrist to examine lines tracing each curve with a focus that sent shivers through your veins. his thumb rubbed absent circles causing thoughts to short circuit, breath hitching slightly at the contact.

"not silly at all, i'm truly flattered. it's not often i come across such devoted fans, let alone marks of appreciation so meaningful. thank you for sharing this with me, it will certainly remain a treasured memory."

releasing your now flaming skin, hayden graced you with a look loaded with warmth that threatened composure. frantically you shifted topics back to the interview, desperate to regain threads of coherency spinning out of control under his gaze. thankfully he indulged without further comment, captivating the audience once more.

all too soon your allotted time came to an end, both of you graciously thanking one another while crew prepped for the next guest. hayden bid farewell with a lingering handshake, flashing one last smile that left you lightheaded long after exiting the stage.

leaning against the nearest wall, you attempted to regulate your breathing and pounding heart. had you truly just conducted that interview, seen that sweet genuine reaction to a silly fangirl choice that meant the world? pinching yourself proved no dreams, only solid reality awaiting further processing back at home with friends.

giddiness prevented focus for the remainder of promotional rounds, drifting through subsequent interviews on autopilot buzzing with endorphins. by late afternoon you found solace beside a refreshments table, quietly replaying treasured memories while nibbling on a giant cookie.

"y/n!" whirling at the call of your name, disbelief flooded as none other than hayden christensen hurriedly approached with a beaming smile. had he mistaken you for another, or somehow recalled you despite a packed schedule? politeness held your tongue awaiting clarification.

"i'm glad i caught you before leaving, this day has been a whirlwind. i hope i'm not being too forward, but i was wondering if i could maybe take you out for a drink sometime? get to know one another outside of work and such. only if you're interested of course."

heart ceased functioning at the implication, mind reeling to comprehend such an opportunity unfolding before your very eyes. hayden christensen, long-time crush and the subject of your teenage fantasies, was genuinely interested in you beyond surface-level small talk of the press circuit.

"i-i would love that hayden. um just give me a second," you said fumbling for your phone with shaky hands, exchanging numbers felt surreal akin to glimpsing behind intricate hollywood veils so seldom witnessed up close.

"wonderful, it's a date then. i'll text you later this week to discuss plans further. see you then y/n, take care." with a final radiant smile hayden turned on his heel, disappearing behind heavy doors towards whatever awaited beyond this magical day.

plopping onto a chair legs feeling like they might give out at any second, you simply stared bewildered at open phone grasped tightly in palm. had any of this truly happened, or had stress and fangirl aspirations finally sent imagination into overdrive? only time would tell where genuine connection may blossom if given proper chance to take root. for now, replaying treasured snapshots on a loop would have to suffice to quell your pounding heart until destiny worked her mysterious ways.

true to word, your phone lit up later that week with an unknown number. unlocking brought a message reading simply "hey, it's hayden. are you free saturday night?" giddy butterflies exploded anew seeing his name, fingers rushing to confirm eagerly while coordinating logistics.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fluff #anakin angst #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen angst #hayden christensen x you

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neil-gaiman · 9 months

Note

Hello Mr. Gaiman! Hope you are well! I recently started drawing everyday with most of my drawings being for my best friend. It has really helped with my depression, to be creative. I recently drew her Mervyn Pumpkinhead because she loves all of your work and especially Sandman! We even saw season 1 together when it came out. I’m no professional artist but she said she really thought this drawing stood out from my work and it made me feel happy. I wanted to ask you if you would ever create an account on Cameo since their birthday is coming up and I think she would love to have one of her favorite writers/artists/dreamers wish her a “Happy Birthday” in video form!

I am very unlikely ever to create a Cameo account, but happy birthday, best friend of @houndoffoggynotions .

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forever-rogue · 7 months

Note

Could I request some Eddie. It’s the readers birthday and Eddie gives her a mix tape of all her favorite songs. But instead of it being the original artist’s versions is Corroded Coffin doing covers?

AN | No but this is the sweetest idea?! Imagine getting this from Eddie! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey there birthday girl,” you playfully huffed as you walked into Eddie’s shop, finding at the counter, pouring over some spreadsheets. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest by your response, pushing everything away in order to give you his full attention, “you look pretty.”

“It’s not my birthday, Eddie,” you hopped onto the counter without a second thought and Eddie leaned in to kiss you, lips lingering against yours, “hi.”

“Hi almost birthday girl,” he hand setted on the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead to yours. You groaned softly; your heart was both so happy at how sweet he was and heavy because you didn’t want him to make a big deal of your birthday. You’d never really been a fan of celebrations or parties, but Eddie insisted on doing something to celebrate you. You knew that he would listen and respect your wishes, which was one of the many things you loved about him. He always saw you, even when you felt invisible, “missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” you promised, putting your hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, "are you almost done here?"

"Yes ma'am," he tossed everything off the counter and onto the floor, causing you to laugh at his dramatics, "anything for you."

"Such a dork," you slid off the counter and held out your hand for him. He eagerly took your hand and brought it to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles, “my dork.”

“And you’re mine too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Hey," you couldn't sleep and had spent almost an hour staring at the ceiling. You weren't sure if Eddie was awake but figured it was worth a try, "Ed?"

"Hmm?" He rolled over so he was facing you, eyes closed and a sleepy smile on his face, "what's wrong baby?"

"Nothing," you sighed lightly, relaxing when you felt him reach for your hand, "its just…its dumb."

"Tell me."

"You don't have anything planned for my birthday right? I don't want a big celebration or anything," you exhaled slowly as he squeezed your hand, "I just don't want anything big. I'd rather just have it be another day."

“I know baby,” he scooted closer to you and nuzzled his face next to yours on the pillow. You felt his lips kiss the tip of your nose, “it’ll be just like any other day. If that’s what my baby wants for her birthday, that’s what she’ll get.”

“Thank you,” you closed your eyes and snuggled up to him; he instantly wrapped his arm around your waist, “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you,” and with that, you allowed yourself to relax and give into sleep, “so much.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day at work had gone by without anything noteworthy happening. That would definitely have everything to do with the fact that you hadn’t told your coworkers or boss that it was your birthday. You knew that it was your personnel file somewhere, but you doubted anyone ever checked them. It still didn’t stop you from startling a few times and bracing yourself for the worst when your coworkers came up to you. But if anyone actually knew that it was your birthday, they didn’t comment on it.

Which was exactly what you wanted.

It wasn’t that you were vehemently against birthdays or celebrating them - you loved helping friends celebrate. You just didn’t want to celebrate your own. At first it seemed like Eddie had been upset when you told him you didn’t want to do anything, almost like it was some sort of slight, but he quickly came around and realized that it wasn’t personal. It was just your preference, and he always wanted to respect your wishes.

The only issue you’d experienced all day was the fact that Eddie seemed to be almost completely radio silent. You knew that some days he was extra busy and didn’t have a lot of time to text, but it was strange to hear nothing from him. You’d seen him when he left for work as you were getting ready, and he’d seemed fine. But now you were almost worried with how quiet he was being; you hoped he was okay.

When you pulled up to the house, not a single light was on. Only the porch light flipped on as you walked up to the front door. But Eddie’s truck was parked in his usual spot which didn’t do anything to reassure you. You almost ran inside, almost dropping your key in your haste to open the door.

“Eddie!?” you made your way into the kitchen and flicked on the lights to have some sort of balance.

“Surprise!” As soon as you flicked on the light, Eddie jumped out from the other side of the counter, blowing on a noisemaker with a little happy birthday hat on his mop of curls. You yelped in surprise and jumped back, clutching at your wildly beating heart.

“What the hell, Edward?” you took a moment to catch your breath as you looked around to see if anyone else was in your house. But you didn’t see any movement or anything to suggest anyone was there. He came around the counter and threw his arms around you, pulling you into a big, warm hug. You relaxed into his touch and hugged him back just as tightly, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry baby,” he peppered kisses to the side of your head, rubbing your back soothingly, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought it would be a fun surprise.”

“Oh Eddie,” you pulled back and kissed him softly, “it’s definitely a surprise. I was starting to get worried since I hadn’t heard from you all day. I was hoping nothing happened, and then you had to go and give me a heart attack!”

“I was…I had to finish a few things up today on top of work so it was just a long day,” you could tell that he was being honest…but giving you all of the story. But you didn’t want to push him either - he always came around and told you the entire story, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to be so absent today.”

“It’s okay - I’m glad you’re okay,” you took the noisemaker from his hand and blew into it loudly. That caused him to laugh, shaking his head fondly at you, “what’s all this for?”

“First of all, let me just say that I haven’t gone and planned a huge surprise party or anything. It’s just me and you,” his promise allowed you to relax, “I have a few things planned for tonight, if that sounds good to you.”

“Just you and me?” your voice was small as he beamed at you, big brown eyes bright and shining.

“Just you and me.”

“That sounds perfect,” the idea of spending some time along with your love sounded like the best thing in the world, “what’ve you got planned then? Should I be concerned?”

“Not at all,” but yeah, there was still that little mischievous glint in his eye, “but first things first.”

He ran into the living room before coming back with another party hat and putting on your head. You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up as Eddie snapped a few pictures of the two of you.

“I’ve ordered dinner from your favorite place - it’s on the way and should be here soon,” as if on cue your stomach started to rumble, “I didn’t think about asking if you wanted to eat at the restaurant, fuck! But I figured it might be nice if it’s just here with the two of us.”

“That sounds perfect,” you promised, “can we also change into pajamas and eat on the couch?”

“Blankets are already on the couch and I already put out the clean pajamas," he was such a sweetheart, always thinking of the things you liked. Your expression softened as he slowly started to usher you toward the bedroom, "but I think we have just enough time to take a hot shower before the food is here and we get comfortable."

"Eddie…I - this is wonderful," the way your face lit up was enough to make it all worth it. Truthfully he would have done anything for you, but then again, you would have done the same for him, "you didn't have to do all this though. Seriously."

"It's your birthday," he reminded you, "and even if you don't want a big celebration or want to make a big deal of it or anything, I want to do something special for my girl. I want to celebrate you. I love you, you know.”

“Yeah,” you blinked back a few tears that his sweet words had caused to spring up as you took one of his hands in both of yours and held it gently, “I love you too, Eddie. Thank you for all of this, it’s…wonderful. This is perfect. Are you going to join me in this shower?”

“Only if you want me to…”

“Of course I do,” this time you were pulling him to the bathroom, already trying to pull off your clothes in your haste to get into the shower. The two of you were fumbling around as you turned on the shower and tried to pull off his and your clothes. Hasty kisses were exchanged along with soft smiles and laughter; the two of you were just so…meant to be. That’s what Eddie always said and you didn’t disagree with him. It was all true.

“C’mon,” Eddie pulled back the curtain to make sure the water was warm enough for the two of you, “let me take care of you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the two of you were on the couch, clean and in fresh pajamas with the remnants of dinner spread on the coffee table, you were already growing tired. The shower had been so warm and comforting, along with Eddie going down on you which he insisted was part of celebrating you, and the food was delicious. It all led to you feeling the tiredness in your bones as you cuddled with him on the couch, with warm and soft blankets covering the two of you.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me, pretty girl,” your head was resting on his chest, lulled by the steady beating of his heart. You mumbled something in response as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m not,” you insisted softly, badly stifling a yawn as you pulled back and blinked up at him with heavy, sleepy eyes, “just resting my eyes for a moment.”

“Mhmm,” he tenderly took your chin in his hand and turned your face up to his, “is that why you were snoring?”

“Was not!” your lips pulled in a playful little pout as you looked at him. He raised an eye but didn’t say anything, “I was just heavily breathing as I watched the movie.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright then, what’s happened in the movie so far?” judging from the surprised look on your face, Eddie knew that he had you trapped. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning up and kissing him. You figured if there was one way to shut him up it was through a kiss. He leaned into you, your lips still sugary sweet from dessert, “it’s not really an answer but I’m willing to accept that.”

“As you should, my love,” you managed to work your into his lap, snuggling up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “thank you for tonight - everything. It means the world to me - you mean the world to me.”

“Well, if you’re amenable, I have a little something for you - another little thing. But it’s actually tangible,” your eyes widened in curiosity as he nodded, “so…yeah.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” you loved him. You really loved him, “ugh, stop, you’re so disgustingly amazing.”

“Anything for you,” he pressed kisses to your cheeks, forehead, nose and stopped at your lips, “and I’m really excited for you to have it. It’s - can I go and grab it?”

“And just who would I be to say no?” you slid off his lap and cuddled up in the corner of the couch under both blankets, “I’ll allow it.”

“Be right back!” he almost jumped off the couch as he ran into the bedroom. You heard him rummaging around for a few minutes before he came back out, his arms behind his back, “close your eyes.”

You eagerly complied and made a show of squeezing your eyes closed and draping one arm over your eyes. Eddie snorted in amusement as he reached for your free hand and set something small and square into it.

“Alright - you can go ahead and open your eyes,” as soon as you did, he watched your face go through several different expressions as you tried to figure out what the small wrapped item was. You pulled off the big, golden bow and looked at him, “go on - open it.”

You slid your finger under the messily wrapped paper - you loved that about him - and pulled out the item inside. Your face turned into a huge grin as you realized what you were holding - a mixtape. An actual, real life, mixtape. You weren't sure if you'd ever seen held one before.

“Eddie. Y-you made me a mixtape?” you felt the tears prick up again as he nodded excitedly, biting on his bottom lip.

“It’s not just any old mixtape either,” he watched as you turned it around and looked at the label, “it’s your favorite songs but umm, well, it’s all Corroded Coffin covers. I think it’d be neat you know to have something just your own, so yeah. I-I hope you like it.”

“Edward Munson,” you jumped up and quickly closed the small distance between your bodies, almost throwing yourself into his arms. He let out a nervous laugh, relieved at your reaction. It had been an idea he’d had for a long time, but it was never anything he’d actually planned on doing. Then one day, he realized just how much he wanted to do this for you. He felt your tears soak into the thin fabric of his t-shirt and gently rubbed your back, “this is the nicest and most special thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it. So much.”

“You haven’t even listened to it yet baby,” every nerve and worry he’d had about sharing this was relieved, “can’t judge it just yet.”

“I can and I will,” you took his face in your hands and kissed him sweetly, “I can’t wait to listen to it. I love this so much. Thank you.”

“Happy birthday baby,” he put his hand on your face and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “to this one and to many more. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you looked towards the old radio that was next to the vintage record player; Eddie followed your line of sight as his smile grew, “you’ve made this one of the best and most special birthdays ever. Can we give this a listen?”

“Oh, you don’t have to…are you sure?”

“Of course!” you bounced over and popped the cassette in, “and it’s still my birthday and this is one of my few requests. And that you dance with me.”

“What if it’s not danceable?” he took your hand that was already outstretched to him, as you pulled him closer.

“Then we’ll make it danceable,” you sighed softly as he kissed you, reaching behind you and hitting play, “you’re going to have a lot to live up to next year.”

“Don’t worry, I plan on surpassing even your biggest expectations,” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, “was this okay then? Nothing too much or not enough?”

“This was perfect,” you promised, “I couldn’t think of anything better. Best birthday ever.”

The new mixtape became a part of your regular rotation.

It was your favorite gift ever.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

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vendetta-ari · 2 months

Note

Your fav anon is backkkkk! Hey Love! May I request a Vox (and you can include Lucifer too) x Artist (f!) reader headcannons? As I’ve said before, take your time! ♡ ♡

UGHH OH MY FUCKIN GOD IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO YOUR ASK BRO ILYSM ANON TYSM FOR YOU PATIENCE UR FRFR MY FAV ANON ♡♡♡

anyways, here Luci + Vox x artist reader

Lucifer

~ Lucifer and you always create and paint things together, he loves your creativity and he adores your art

~ You and Luci exchange ducks on special days, like valentine's day, Christmas, and birthdays.

~ You always exchange art tips with each other, bother being artists and your own unique ways.

~ Many times you have painted Lucifer's ducks for him when he's feeling down.

~ You two took a picture on your anniversary and you printed it out and painted it, he hangs it up on his wall and he always says its “The best thing I've ever, ever owned my dear!” he always gets all cheery and smiles when he sees it

~ You paint lucifers nails for him, last time you made a lil duck design on them

~ People can always tell when you two have been hanging out because the two of you are all giggly and smiling covered in paint

~ You painted a mural in his room, an apple using both his and your favorite colors

~ you give all your art pieces to Luci, you tried to sell one of them and the poor guy almost cried

~ he's basically drowning in your paintings and all your artwork, he doesn't mind at all though. although he is running out of space…

~ whatever he'll just expand his room to fit more of your work.

~ you have forced Lucifer to let you do makeup on him, he wasn't too happy but you laughed your ass off at his annoyance and makeup covered face

~ He cant stay mad at you for too long though, when your mad at luci you'll grab one of his ducks and paint them a different color completely and rub paint off some off his other ducks

~ when you finally calm down you repaint all for them with him though, as an apology.

~ the two of you often take walks through the rings of hell for inspiration

~ surprisingly, the screams of everyone being tortured is great to get those creative juices flowing

Vox

☆ Now let's be for real here guys, Vox can't draw for shit, so him being with an artist reader is kinda cute and unique and funny

☆ But you on the other hand, “your art is beautiful! n’ it should be hung up in a museum or something like that doll, I seriously dunno how you do it”

☆ During certain shows where they need sets, props, or anything related to that, you'll be the one painting them being the first to volunteer you totally didn't draw a dick kn one of the sets and embarrass him on live television pft- noo psh- hah why would you ever do such a thing? it must've been val!

☆ You couldn't keep your laughter when Vox drew that picture of Alastor when be was throwing his hissy fit on live television

☆ you redraw a picture of Alastor for Vox to tear up crumble and kick around as a stress reliever

☆ Vox realized that you drew a picture of Alastor, didn't matter what it was for you still drew him, just then he got angry again and demanded that you draw a picture of him

☆ just one more thing to stroke his ego I suppose

☆ You and velvette are besties, she often steals you away from Vox so you two can draw up outfits

☆ and he totally doesn't ever never get mad at her because of that

☆ You often draw in a red and blue journal Vox gave you as a gift once, it was in a whim but you still love it dearly

☆ you draw pictures of him and you together with little hearts around them, but vox doesn't need to know that

☆ but one time he did look through your journal, out of curiosity. trying to hide the blush that spread across his face, he grabbed a pen and wrote little messages on a few of your doodles "Didn't know she was that obsessed with me" he mumbled under his breath while flipping through the pages

☆ “We're gonna recreate this photo tomorrow, meet me at my office in 4:00 dollface” -Vox

☆ when you noticed the note you almost lost your mind fangirling over this TV man

☆So you did as you were told and met him at his office, getting there a little bit early

☆ And just like that he picked you up and carried you bridal style to his chair, kissing you softly all over, with you giggling and blushing, creating your drawing perfectly.

-xoxo, Ari

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #fluff #romantic #hazbin hotel romantic #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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mayearies · 9 months

Text

✰ RECORD BOY

miles morales loves music but he loves you more. genre: fluff

warnings: rio and me are married (correction: every person with the last name 'morales' is married to me) a/n: dont come at me yes i know his birthday was a week ago but i had this idea and i just 😭 i had to write it plus i didnt give him a proper happy birthday so 😢 pretend i posted this on his actual birthday ALSO RIO CONTENT YAYAAYAYAY

one of maye's personal favorites :D

e1610 miles had been your boyfriend for a while, and today was his special day. you contemplated for a while what your gift would be for him. he was the best you've ever had. of course he deserved the best gift ever. sooner or later, the answer was given to you.

—you politely knocked on the door of the morales household with a box wrapped in wrapping paper and tied with a bow. specifically black and red, cause y'know. rio opened the door and a smile lit up on her face. not like the sarcastic one she had when she first met you.

"hi, hun. you here for miles?"

as you stepped in, the room smelled of vanilla and ink? weird combo, yeah? "mhm, just wanted to swing by and say a quick 'happy birthday' to him."

"oh, that's sweet. he's in his room. ¿quieres un cupcake?" "oh! n-no, gracias."

considering how often you visited miles, you tended to pick up some spanish from his mom, which she gladly taught you. rio treated you like you were a close friend, which made miles happy to say the least. "i see your spanish has improved."

"yeah, thanks ms. morales." "of course! you're special person in my son's life, i owe it to you."

♡ well, you thought that was a little too high of a praise. it felt like the morales' were givers. like if someone were to do something for them which they said was small or no big deal, they would take it to an extent. it's something you would think about time to time. nonetheless, they were grateful of how trusting you were.

you pushed the cracked door of miles' room and found him where he always was—at his desk drawing in his sketchbook with his headphones on, humming along. you wonder how hard you fell for him when you first met.

you tapped his shoulder lightly, disturbing his quote on quote singing, he smiled brightly when he saw you. "hey, love."

he engulfed you into a big hug. his shirt was cozy and he smelled sweet. "baby! you came!"

"of course i did! how could i miss your birthday?" "you missed valentines day-" "hush."

miles clearly eyed the box as you asked him how he was doing. he gave short answers and sometimes ask you to repeat what you said. you sighed with a playful smile, "you wanna know what's in the present, don't you?"

"yes pleaseee."

you two sat on his bed and miles gently untied the bow and ripped the wrapping paper. the look on his face once he saw what was inside was nothing short of surprise. you smiled as he looked over to you with a shocked face. "you're serious?"

"uh huh. happy birthday, spidey."

♡ you went down to the record store and bought roughly around half a hundred worth of albums. of course knowing miles loves music basically to death, you knew all of his favorite artists. tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, pinkpantheress, bryson tiller, sza, to name a few. you had to get him albums for his record player.

miles sighed and changed his tone into somewhat more whiney as he put his head on you lap. "noo, don't do this to me, amor. i can't accept these."

"too bad, accept them." "but i don't even use my record player anymore! i know you are not out here buying me $20 albums on vinyl, ma." "it's fine, i'll make back the money. and let's put that record player to good use, yeah?" "... god, i love you and your persistence. makes you hotter in my opinion." "that's cause i know what you like."

♡ you took him to the rooftop and danced with him until sunset where you just sang songs together. it was the best birthday miles had so far, spending it with his favorite person. that person used to be a stranger.

"happy birthday, my record boy♡"

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 #miles 1610 #miles morales imagine #miles morales spider man #miles morales fic

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 3 months

Text

Sweet Like Sugar (Tattoo Artist!Geto x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto gets paid a pleasant surprise at his tattoo shop when his favorite, cute little bimbo client comes to visit one night on his birthday to cover her ex's tattoo.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Geto; sub!Reader; Bimbo!Reader; Reader is Black & Fem; Sexual Tension; Stripping; Oral; Deepthroat; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Fucking Standing Up; One Leg Up; Cowgirl); Body Worship; Dick Piercing; Mild Pain Kink; Unprotected PIV; Cum on Ass

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: A very happy birthday to my BABYYYYY!! I wrote this as a quick something to celebrate the special day & because tattoo artist!Geto has been burning a hole in my head AND my p*ssy. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

It’s his birthday and he’s working late.

Not that he would’ve chosen differently. Geto doesn’t mind working late. Anything he can do to increase the popularity of his beloved tattoo shop, he’ll do it. He’s had this shop for over six years now ever since he graduated from art school and claims it as the reason for his career. Plus, celebrity popularity.

Ever since he tattooed Rihanna on one of her world tours, he’s tattooed many other popular figures in music which gained him more traction. He can’t be happier with the booming business, even when it is on his birthday. He’s never been the type to make a big deal about the day he was born, so working on inking up people’s bodies and scheduling appointments never bothered him. It does, however, bother Gojo.

“C’mooon, Sugu,” he whines, using the nickname he’s called Geto since high school. “You’ve been in this sad little shop since 8 in the morning! Let’s go out for drinks. It’s your birthday, after all.”

Geto, currently bent over his station cleaning off his ink needles and machinery in time for the next appointment at 8 PM (the shop closes at 9, but he lets the guy squeeze since it means more money), rolls his eyes. “7, actually,” he says. “And you know that the bars are packed tonight, Satoru. It’s Saturday. We can go during the week though.”

Gojo whines again as he shrugs on his coat and pops on his glasses that Geto thinks make him look like one of the three blind mice. “You’re so boring,” he sighs. “Why do I hang out with you?”

Shoko exits her post at the front desk, putting on her leather trench to hide one of her arms roped in ink. “Because he gave you a job out of college and lets you smoke weed on your breaks,” she mumbles as she pops an unlit cigarette into her mouth. Gojo glares at her while Geto laughs. He gave Gojo a job as a tattooer, along with Shoko (who is also the receptionist), because of how good their skills are. However, he would do it anyway because of their work ethic and the fact that they’re such good friends.

“I’ll go with you ‘cause I need a drink,” Shoko huffs as she shimmies between the tattoo stations to the front door.” “We’ll drink in honor of you, Sugu.” Before she leaves, she bends over and pecks Geto on the cheek, leaving a ring of red lipgloss. “Happy birthday,” she chuckles.

“Thanks,” he chuckles, wiping off her lipstick stain. “Have fun.” Shoko heads out into the chilly night, holding the door so Gojo can hurry up and join her outside. His blue-eyed friend stops and pats Geto on the shoulder, nearly knocking Geto’s cleaning rag and his ink machine out of his hands. “Don’t stay too long, alright? You need to sleep.”

He gives Geto a serious look as he says this. It’s no secret that his friends think that Geto overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, but when you’re a business owner, you have to make sacrifices. “Satoru, my appointment is only askin’ for an outline,” he chuckles. “Those only take me twenty to thirty minutes, tops. But I appreciate your concern.” He puts a hand on Geto’s, giving him a smile. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll hop on my motorcycle and head out of here, okay?”

Gojo nods, looking satisfied with that. “And let us know if a hot girl comes in,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe even that sweetheart you’ve got your head in a tizzy over.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Geto who rolls his eyes, but his body tingles at the mention of you, the “sweetheart” in question.

“Not head’s not in a tizzy,” he scoffs, standing up from his leather seat to get a drink, but mostly to escape his friend’s teasing. “Whatever the fuck that means. And she hasn’t been here in over two weeks.” Gojo watches Geto’s muscular back as he walks away, the dragon tatted on his back flexing along with his muscles. “You miiiiiss her,” he teasingly sings.

Geto cuts his eyes sharply at his friend, about to tell him off, but Shoko peeks her head through the front door. “Cut it out,” she criticizes Gojo. “Now let’s go before we can’t find a seat.” She nods at Geto with a smile, giving him a wink. “Take it easy, Suguru.” Geto hums in agreement and waves as he moves behind the front desk to their mini fridge.

“Remember what I said!” Geto calls as he heads out the door. “Let me know if she comes! I want details!” Then he’s off with Shoko into the city, leaving Geto alone in his shop. “Lock the door on your way out!” Geto calls, but they leave before his order reaches them. Sighing, he takes an ice-cold water bottle out of the fridge and takes a gulp of it before walking over to lock the door.

Though he loves his friends, he was counting on them leaving tonight since they’re heavy drinkers and Gojo is a partier. It gives him time to be alone with his thoughts and, though he will never admit it, he is hoping to see you tonight. He’s been staying late for just that reason, making the excuse to ink people for later appointments, count cash, and clean up shop. He’s been hoping one day that you’d pop up on his schedule or that you’d call so he can hear your sweet, sexy voice, but to his utter disappointment, you haven’t.

Ever since you entered his shop a month ago to get your belly button pierced, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind. It was a chilly but sunny day when he met you and he had just returned from lunch to get started with his next appointment. Gojo and Choso, one of his other skilled yet young tattooers, were working that day. Geto had walked in, positively pissed, in his wool trench after parking, locking, and hopping off of his motorcycle.

The bell above the door rang as he stomped in wearing his boots, wanting to stomp someone. “You won’t believe this shit,” he scoffed to no one in particular but knew that his coworkers would listen. “I almost ran over this guy’s dog who ran out into the street without a leash. The dude tried to blame me for it even though he’s an irresponsible dog owner! Then, the idiot was threatening to sue for…”

He immediately stopped complaining the moment he got a look at you checking in at the front desk along with your friend.

You turned around at the same time as his coworkers when he stomped through the door, giving him an eyeful of your pretty, brown skin and eyes highlighted by the pink you wore: a pink trench with flurry sleeves and neckline; a pink cropped sweater that exposed your tummy and juicy cleavage held up by your push-up bra; pink nails he wanted to feel wrapped around him; juicy, glossy, pink lips that chewed on some strawberry mint gum he could smell from the door.

The only things that weren’t pink on you were the black boots that didn’t make him any taller than you and your hip-hugging, low-waist jeans that flared out at the bottom of your ankles and hugged your waist and thighs something wicked. Geto was silenced, his heart thundering in his ears and blood immediately rushing to his cock. He was disgusted at that, but he couldn’t help it! It was like you stepped out of a man’s wettest dream. You were the perfect mix of adorable and sexy.

Shoko smirked at Gojo from across the room before clearing her throat to fill the awkward silence. “Your 3 PM is here, Geto,” she announced. You gave him a big, blinding, warm smile and he wore he nearly popped a nosebleed. “Hi!” you greeted him. “That’s me! I booked it online on your website.”

Realizing he looked like an idiot just standing there, Geto quickly recovered and cleared his throat, ignoring Gojo’s soft sniggers. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yes, my 3 o’clock. I’m Suguru.” He stuck out his hand to you which you took, your hand so much smaller and softer than his. “I’m Y/N,” you said in that sweet voice. “This is my friend. She introduced me to your shop ‘cause Ariana Grande got her tattoo done here.”

“Oh, yeah, Ms. Grande!” he chuckled. He had to take a moment to think about that because his brain was too busy focusing on how good you smelled and your pretty smile. “Yeah, she was very nice. Are you here for some ink? I don’t think you said anything about what you wanted for your appointment.”

You giggled, sheepishly so. “You guys do piercings, right?” you asked, blinking those big, doe-like eyes and doll-like lashes up at him. He nodded, afraid to speak. “I was hoping if maybe I could get a belly button ring. A pink one, please! Or one shaped like a heart!”

Your friend nudged you the wider and more excited your gorgeous eyes got. “Y/N,” she whined. “Don’t be so pushy.” But Geto chortled to himself, thinking it was adorable. “It’s cool,” he chuckled. “Well, follow me to my station and I can show you what we have.”

While your friend waited in the waiting area where snacks and drinks sat, you followed Geto to his workstation where a stool for himself, a retractable chair for his clients, and a large mirror plastered against the wall sat. He presented you with a glass case of rings to choose from, each one becoming more expensive due to the kind of metal used and whether the diamond in it is real. “Oooh, I’ll take this one!” you cooed, pointing at the fuschia pink diamond stud with a butterfly charm hanging off of it. “It’s so pretty!” Geto smirked, knowing that you’d pick that. “Lemme just sit up real quick,” he told you and you nodded before shedding your coat.

When you did, he watched as you bent over to toss the coat over your chair, getting an eyeful of your back and your ass in your jeans. He has never had a client make it so hard to work before. His cock practically became his head, throbbing intensely. He tried to distract himself by putting on his latex clothes and cleaning the piercing needle. Once done, he took out the earring and dangled it in front of you. “You like pink?” he asked, smirking.

You gave him a sheepish, shy smile. “Is it that obvious?” you giggled. “I just love the color. I think it makes me look cuter.” He didn’t tell you that he agreed. You then began to look around the store aimlessly, gaping at the sketches hanging up behind him. “Wow, did you draw that?” you gasped, pointing at a blue dragon emerging from a bed of water lilies. “That’s sooo beautiful! You design your own stuff?”

He nodded, flushing at the compliment. “Thank you, and yes, I do. I’m a tattoo artist who just so happens to own their own shop.” He patted the chair, giving you a warm, comforting smile. “Go ahead and get comfortable. Lie back for me.” You did so, sitting down and lying back against the leather cushion, but you looked tense. “How long have you owned your shop for?” you asked. “That’s gotta be hard. I’m going to college now, so I know how it feels to be so overwhelmed. Classes are cool. I hate math classes though. I mean, what do we need to learn calculus for? It’s pointless! I wanna be a teacher, not…”

You stopped, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.” He raised an eyebrow at you as he set out some anti-bacterial wipes and soothing cream. “Nervous?” he asked. “I can see you’ve gotten piercings before though.” He nodded at your ears and diamond nose ring.

“Yeah, but those weren’t for my body!” you argued. “But then again, I do wanna get my nipples done too, so I guess I’ll have to get used to needles.”

Geto didn’t tell you how much the idea of you having nipple rings turned him on. Maybe they would be pink too. “I have tattoos too,” you added. He once again quirked an eyebrow at you, happy to get to know you more to ease your nerves…and also because he was so intrigued by you. “Do you now?” he prompted, curious. “Lemme see.”

You first showed him one––a tiny purple butterfly on your right arm. “I got this one two years ago for my birthday,” you explained. You then rolled down your pants slightly, making Geto blush and think very naughty thoughts, to show him the name inked on your left thigh. “And this one is my boyfriend’s name.” You stated this so proudly.

Geto tried not to wither at the fact that you were taken. Of course, you would be! You were too damn cute to not be with someone. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked. “How’d you meet him?” He hated how bitter he sounded, but you didn’t seem to notice. “We go to the same school together. Funny enough, he was my weed plug and he asked me out. We’ve been together for two years now.”

You gave him a crooked smirk as you pulled your pants back up. “I know it’s silly,” you sighed. “That’s what my friend said: to get a guy’s name tattooed on your body.” Geto felt a pang of guilt because he was thinking it. “I didn’t say that,” he protested. “You’d be surprised how many people come in here wantin’ their significant other’s name tatted on them.”

“Well, there’s the whole logic behind it that if you break up, you’ll have their name on you forever!” you stated. “But I know that’s not gonna happen. We’re doing great and he’s got my name tatted on him in the same spot!” you sounded so certain that Geto couldn’t dare argue.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, giving you a smile before fetching an alcohol swap. “I’m just gonna clean your belly button first and then you’ll feel a pinch. There will be blood, but not a lot.”

You nodded and braced yourself by squeezing the chair before he began to wipe at your belly button. “That tickles!” you laughed, endearing, hysterical giggles leaving your mouth as Geto did his thing. He smiled, loving the sound. He wanted to make you laugh always. Once done, he took the needle and gave you a soothing smile. “So tell me what you go to school for.”

You were happy to tell him and he found that the more he talked to you, the less tense and nervous you were. You talked the whole time he took the needle and pierced your belly button, trying not to laugh at your squeal of pain. You were just the sweetest thing ever. He also found that the more he talked to you, the more he wanted to know you. Once finished and your stomach was clean, you admired your piercing in the mirror. “Thank you so, so much, Suguru!” you squealed. “It’s so, so cute!”

Geto watched you shake your hips in the mirror, agreeing that the tiny charm looked so damn cute hanging from your belly. He tried not to stare too much, instead, spraying and sanitizing the chair for the next client. “Do you have an IG that I can tag you in?” you asked, taking out your phone with a Hello Kitty case. God, how cuter could you possibly get?! He just wanted to scoop you up and put you in his pocket!

“Yeah, and I’ll give it to you when I ring you up,” he stated, loving how sweet you were. Once he finished cleaning up and giving you the solution to clean your piercing with, he walked you to the front desk to pay and totaled it, telling you something completely lower than the actual price. “Oh…but that’s not the price on your website,” you stated, confused.

“I know,” he chuckled, looking down at you adoringly. “A college girl like you needs to save.” Realization flickered in your eyes. “That’s so sweet!” you cooed and, after you finished paying, surprised him by putting $20 in the tip jar. “For doing such a good job on me,” you giggled. “I’ll make sure I visit here again for a tattoo.”

Geto shared your smile, feeling his heart thud at the thought of you coming back. He wanted you to come back. “I look forward to it, Y/N,” he said, not realizing how deep and sultry your voice sounded. But you did and your friend had to come get you because your legs suddenly forgot how to function. You looked back at him over your shoulder before you finally left, making Geto wonder if he’d see you again. Gojo was more than excited to be nosey and leaned against the front desk while Geto counted change. “What?” he grumbled, not even looking up.

“Dude, you should’ve copped that,” Gojo sighed. “I would’ve definitely slid that cutie my digits.”

Geto glared at him as he dropped the coins in the register. “She said she has a boyfriend, in case you’re hard at hearing,” he pointedly said.

Gojo clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That don’t matter! You could’ve given her your card for…business purposes.” He smirked suggestively, ever the perv. “Why would I need to do that if she has my IG?” Geto scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Da fuck I look like givin’ this girl my card with my number on it? She would’ve thought I was trying to pick her up. And besides, she’s probably not even gonna show up again.”

But you did. You showed up the whole month of January to pick up new solution or to get a cleanup on your butterfly tattoo. Geto always took you and if he wasn’t there to do so, you came back when he was on his shifts which made his heart flutter. You learned more about him and he about you during all of your sessions which became his favorites. You had become his favorite client because of how sweet you were to everyone. Your personality and presence seemed to brighten his shop a little more. He looked forward to the days you’d come in.

Until suddenly, you stopped. He hasn’t seen you in over a week and though he had your number in the system, he refused to call you. He didn’t want to overstep boundaries, so he just left it be, but he can’t deny that his heart aches every time the bell above the door rings and you’re not standing there.

After fifteen minutes of cleaning up and humming to the music blasting from his phone, it begins to drizzle outside which means that his appointment may be cancelled. Many clients cancel or don’t show up when the weather is nasty. No more than five minutes later, he gets a call on the shop’s phone which goes right to voicemail. “Hi there!” his appointment, an older man, says. “This message is for Geto Suguru. I apologize, but I have to cancel because of my work hours. I’ll reschedule for an opening next week. Have a good night!”

“Shit,” Geto cusses, not happy to have wasted his time, but also glad that he’ll be able to go home early and chill on a rainy night. So he busies himself with putting up the closed sign on the door before taking a Clorox wipe and wiping down the front desk. With his back to the door, he hears the bell make its tinkling sound behind him.

“Hey, sorry, but we’re closed,” he announces without looking behind him. “Oh, sorry!” your sweet, familiar voice says. “I wanted to…” Geto immediately stops cleaning to turn to face you. You stand there frozen with an umbrella dripping in water and wearing a cropped pink tracksuit and matching pants bedazzled with your name on them. You both stare at each other for a minute, completely silent and transfixed, before you manage to smile at him. “Hi,” you greet him.

God, how he’s missed that smile. “Hi,” he parrots, still in awe. “What brings you here tonight, stranger?”

Your smile grows wider, a little brighter than before but still slightly…off. You don’t have that light to them. “I had come to get something, but I can come back. I thought y’all closed at 10 PM.”

“We do,” Geto replies, already putting away the cleaning products, “but my client cancelled, so I was gonna shut down shop early…but I can still take you depending on what you need.” You look relieved at that and he wants to know why. “Thank you, Suguru,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your night.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckles, walking you over to his work station. “My night was gettin’ boring anyway, so I’m glad you walked in. Hop up.” He pats the seat to which you hop up on, your legs dangling from the seat. The sound of SZA swells around the shop, filling the silence. Usually, you’re so chipper and singing along to the tunes, but tonight, you’re completely quiet.

“So I’ve got ask,” Geto says, giving you a warm smile. “Where have you been at all this time? I haven’t seen you around the shop lately.” He begins to take the cleaning products for piercings and tattoos out to make it the conversation seem casual, but in reality, he is dying to know where you disappeared to. You shrug, looking everywhere but at him. “Just dealin’ with classes, you know,” you answer softly. “Exams, tests, papers…” He nodded understandably and rolled towards you on his stool. “So what are you lookin’ for tonight?” he asks.

And he doesn’t know what in that question gets to you, but you immediately burst into tears. A sob-like exhale breaks through that chest and sobs begin to escape those pretty lips as you weep into your hands. Geto is taken aback, not sure what to do. “Uh…did I say something wrong?” he asks.

You vigorously shake your head, your cheeks now coated in tears. “No, no,” you sniffle. "I’m so sorry, Suguru. I just…” You sigh, shaking your head. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” you confess. “The one whose name I got tattooed on my fucking thigh! TMI, but I caught him fucking another girl in his dorm when I went over to celebrate his birthday with a cake I made.”

Geto crumbles at the sight of you looking so low; so down; so insecure. He hates seeing you like that and he hates that your bitch ass ex caused this. “I came to get his name covered,” you admit. “Maybe with a flower or another butterfly. Something pretty to cover this ugliness. I’m sorry to spring this on you so late, but–“

You abruptly stop because Geto is looking at you in a way that he has never looked at a client. His gaze his hooded but fierce and serious, one of his hands gripping the chair arm and nearly brushing against your arm. “You don’t have to be sorry about a thing, Y/N,” he says in a gentle, sweet voice that soothes you and makes you feel safe. “I’d be happy to do this for you. And if it’s any consolation, a girl as sweet as you deserves much more than someone that hurts you.”

You stare at him for a moment, your eyes big and glassy from crying. He gives you a smile that you mirror, flashing him something he has been aching to see. “And plus, my birthday couldn’t get more exciting,” he chuckles. At this, you gasp. “It’s your birthday?” you coo. “Oh, that makes me feel even worse!”

Geto laughs, patting your hand comfortingly, ignoring the sparks that fly as he does. “It’s cool, really. I don’t celebrate my birthday like that.” He goes to roll away so he can get some designs for you, but you stop him by placing a hand on his arm. He turns, finding you staring him down with an unreadable, hot expression. “Well…is there any way I can repay you?” you ask, but there is a purr to it. It is soft and low, but Geto hears it. And suddenly, he feels as if you aren’t just here for the ink.

The air shifts to something less than professional and friendly. Though Geto should ignore it, he doesn’t, too distracted by your lips and thick thighs in those track pants. “Well, what did you have in mind?” he asks, his voice dipping an octave. To you, it sounds like dripping honey and makes you feel a way that your ex never did.

You suddenly slip off of the chair and stand in front of him while he sits. He wheels closer to you so you stand between his thick, muscular thighs in his jeans, looking up into your eyes. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you say, your tone sultry and sweet. "I don’t want you to think you’re rebound ‘cause you’re not. I’ve always liked you, Suguru, but I didn’t want to ruin things with my ex...but now that we’re done, I’d like to take our relationship somewhere else.” You give him a shy smile that nearly makes him bust. “If you’re down for it,” you add, batting those pretty lashes at him.

Seconds later, his control flying out the fucking window, Geto finds himself snatching you down to kiss him, causing you to fall into his lap. He swallows your surprised mewls and soft moans as he kissed your lips, making his sticky with your gloss. He gives you those moans right back, desperate and yearning, as you straddle him. He can feel how warm you are the more he kisses and touches you, especially between your thighs. You grind against his crotch as your hands stroke up his chest and his squeeze and mold the thick, soft globes of your ass in your tracksuit pants.

“Finally,” he murmurs through your kiss. “I’ve been wanting you…wanting you for so fuckin’ long.” One hand trails up your back to caress your spine while the other rests on your ass, coaxing you to continue to grind your hips into him. “Me too,” you whimper as he nipples gently on your plump, pillowy-soft bottom lip. “I have too.”

He smiles through the kiss, happy to know that you’ve been aching for him even when you were with someone already. This is insane! He was so sure he would go home after locking up the shop, take a ride on his motorcycle, and smoke a blunt to end the night off. He doesn’t expect anything that happens tonight to go the way that it does.

He doesn’t expect to find himself stripping for you while you strip for him, laughing as you help each other with your clothes and steal hot, breathless kisses in between. He snatches down the zipper to your tracksuit while you snatch down your pants, leaving you in just your pink Hello Kitty bra and panties. He laughs at your undies, making you smack his arm. “I think they’re cute,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You strip off his baggy, black sweatshirt while he takes off his tank top underneath, revealing his toned body and tatted arms to you. He never likes to brag about himself, but the way you’re looking at him like he’s a long-haired Adonis makes him want to.

“You’re so, so pretty, Sugu,” you mewl, dragging your long, pink, pretty nails across his skin. You run your hands over every part of him: his arms; his hips; his chest and pecs; his toned stomach that leads down to his V-line smooth with skin and inked with a lipstick mark. You giggle at the tattoo, running your thumb over it. “It ain’t someone’s lips in particular,” he explains, shivering at your touch. “But I wouldn’t mind if they were yours.”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t,” you purr before bending down to press your lips to the tattoo, leaving a stain of your gloss there. He returns the same action when he takes down your bra straps to expose your pretty titties and hard, tight, brown nipples to him that he pepper in kisses and suckles that make you moan and toss your head back.

He doesn't expect you to bend over the chair for him when he demands it: “Bend over for me,” he says in his deep, smooth voice that makes you shiver. You look back at him, presenting your ass to him to take for himself. Geto feels like a wild animal the way he moves your panties down to your knees and stuffs his face in your pussy. His hands mold and smack your ass, loving the way it jiggles and how you gasp every single time his hand comes down to hit one of your jiggly, soft asscheeks.

He doesn’t expect his lips and tongue to be in your pussy, licking, sucking, and lapping up your juices which you allow by pressing your ass further into him. “Fuck, Sugu!” you moan, moving one arm back to run your fingers through his long, black locks. “You’re so, so good at this!” You make sounds and move in a way that makes him feel as if your ex hasn’t been treating you right.

He wants to make up for all of it, so he continues to lap at your sweet, pretty little cunt and moan as he does it, drunk off of the taste of you. He’s drunk in love with the way your skin contrasts with his, wanting to see his cum dripping down it; the way your sobs and whines of pleasure bounce off of the walls; the way your nails massaging his scalp as you grip his hair; the way your ass and hips whine and grind into his mouth like a little slut in heat.

“You’re so good to me, mama,” he murmurs against your clit. “So sweet…like sugar.” You whimper at his words, sneaking your hand down to rub your clit while he tongue-fucks you against the leather chair.

He doesn’t expect to switch with you and have his long, thick cock wrapped in your soft lips, your tongue lapping at the pre-cum bubbling from the head. He loves the way you ogle his dick once you get his pants off, letting the appendage spring to life. He is thick, veiny, girthy, and has a stud piercing in the bulbous head that makes him blush.

"Aw, baby!" you coo happily, gently poking at the studded earring. "You have a dick piercing! That's so fucking hot." You settle on your knees, naked, your pretty eyes and doll-like lashes staring up at him while you stroke and gag on his cock like it’s your profession.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, tossing his head back at the sensations. He wants so desperately to keep looking at you, but the sight and the feeling is almost too much.

Your mouth is just so wet and your throat is so tight. When you release him, your mouth and lips are coated in spit and pre-cum, your lash line slightly glittering in tears. “You taste so good, Sugu,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you watch your hand stroke his wet cock up and down. He’s just as hypnotized, loving how your nails look wrapped around his thick, veiny dick.

“Am I doin’ a good job?” you teasingly ask. “Am I makin’ you feel good?” You dip back down to take him deeper down your throat, gagging and choking along his length. Geto grunts, one hand gripping your hair while the other digs into the leather cushion beneath him. “God, yes!” he moans. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sugar. Such a good girl for me.”

You giggle, drunk off of him, and continue to eagerly take him, your soft lips sliding along his shaft as your mouth goes up and down, up and down, giving him throat like he has never experienced in his life…and in his place of business, no less!

And he certainly doesn’t expect you to be bent over the chair again and him behind you, his hands on your ass and his cock sliding inside of you. Of course, he pauses to ask if this is still okay and that you can say no at any time. But you look back at him with a giddy smile and a need in your eyes that almost makes him cum. “I want this, Sugu,” you softly say, your hand pressing against his stomach just to feel him up. “Please fuck me.”

And when you toss that ass back into him, he just about loses it. He grips your hips and begins slowly rocking his hips into your wet heat, letting you get used to the feeling. He pays attention to your sounds and the way your body moves, your knees wobbly and body shaking. “You okay?” he asks, comfortingly stroking your back. You nod, panting heavily as his cock internally strokes your clit as it slides in and out of you. “You’re bigger than my ex, is all,” you shakily say. “But I can take it.”

Geto doesn’t tell you how happy that makes him. It gives him the chance to really fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. “You’re so tight for me, sugar,” he moans, continuing to give himself to you nice and slow. “So wet too. You must be feening for this dick, aren’t you?” He takes you by the back of the neck and angles himself in a way that makes your moans grow louder when he fucks you.

“Faster, Sugu!” you beg. “Please fuck this pussy faster! Harder!” He can’t deny the way his cock swells and twitches inside you at the sound of your pleas.

He grabs your hips and gives you exactly what you want, fucking you so roughly that your knees begin to buckle and your moans echo with the music playing on his phone. His own sounds of pleasure mingle with yours, mixing with the sound of his cock lewdly swirling in your squelching, wet pussy that grips him tighter than a vice. “Take it,” he demands. “Take it like a good girl. You wanted this shit, right?”

He smacks your ass in time with his thrusts, causing sharp sounds of his hand connecting with your cheeks and your moans to bounce off of the shop’s walls. Your ass is just too perfect and he can't get enough of the way it bounces and jiggles so enticingly against his stomach as he drills you. He wouldn’t mind seeing his name tatted on one of your delectable cheeks or as a tramp stamp across your lower back or even on your thigh. He sees you now as his own. You are his.

“That feel good, hm?” he teasingly asks, continue to hold your neck as he pistons into you. “You like that, sugar? Y’know, this pussy is almost sweeter than you.” He pauses and slowly holds your leg up, waiting for your consent to continue. You nod, pushing back into him as if you can’t get enough of his cock.

For a while, he fucks you just like that with one hand holding your leg up and the other gripping your neck, holding you steady as he strokes that G-spot again and again, his heavy balls hitting that clit and making you tingle all over. But he doesn’t just fuck you from behind. He does it in any way you want and are comfortable with doing.

He turns you around, picks you up, and fucks you stand up, you dangling from his waist. You just about scream and sob with pleasure as his cock pounds into you like a jackhammer, your arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala bear. “F-Fuck, Sugu!” you babble into his neck and hair. “Oh, my God, you’re so fuckin’ good!” He pulls you away to stare at the pleasure in your eyes and then kiss you, moaning hotly into your mouth. It only makes him fuck you harder, making you bounce against his cock.

When you finally cum is when he lies on his back on the floor and has you ride him. You do so with vigor and eagerness, bouncing up and down on his dick like the cutest little rabbit. He lies under you, his big hands gripping your hips and ass as you do your thing. “God, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.”

He can feel his balls tightening and that knot in his stomach threatening to snap the more your pussy slams down onto him and the more those precious titties jiggle and bounce in front of him. “Cum with me, Sugu!” you beg in that sweet voice, your nails digging into his pecs. “Give it to me please! I’m so close!” Ever the vixen, you randomly slow down and begin to giggle like a damn villain when Geto groans at the edging, your wet walls just too much to not fuck up into.

And that’s what he does. He takes a hold of you and grips you to him before slamming himself up into you again and again, his moans and grunts of pleasure mixing with yours as your mixed juices drip down his balls, making your cunt wet enough to fuck with vigor. “Cum with me,” he demands as you whine into his ear, his cock too much. “Cum on this dick, baby. Do it! Give it to me!”

It doesn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock, your pussy squeezing him tight enough where he can hardly move. When you do, it triggers his own orgasm. He quickly pulls out of you and fucks his fist until his cum spurts all over your ass and pussy, drenching you in it. His lips find yours, his moans and heavy pants mixing with yours as your tongues swirl with one another. You giggle into the kiss, causing him to laugh too. “Fuck,” you sigh against his mouth. “That was so good.”

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. Exhausted, you roll off of him and onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. Beads of sweat roll down Geto’s toned body and forehead as he heavily pants, recovering from the sex. Feeling your hand sneak into his, he smiles and interlaces your fingers.

“I expect you to be comin’ back regularly now,” he chuckles.

“If I can look forward to this, sure,” you hum. “That was fantastic! Way better than my bitch ass ex!” Geto turns over to look at you, loving how you look in the afterglow after getting your gorgeous brains fucked out. “Speakin’ of which, you wanna get back to the tattoo or just continue this?” he asks, nodding down at your thigh where your ex’s name still sits. “I'm with either, sugar. It’s all up to you.”

You look up at him with those eyes and inch closer to his body to wrap your arms around him. “In a bit,” you sigh, making him laugh as you squeeze him to you like a teddy bear. He embraces you back, pressing a kiss to your forehead and breathing in the scents of your sweet-smelling body spray and sex on your skin. He loves how small you are, how warm and soft you feel against him. He feels like you belong there with him and he with you.

After a couple of minutes of soft kisses and drawing shapes on each other’s naked bodies, you each get dressed and get back to business. After Geto fetches you some water and a snack, yu sit up in the chair and lay back while he puts on some gloves and moves your pants down to show the flesh of your thigh. When he fetches the tattoo gun, your eyes grow wide like a cartoon character’s.

He snorts at your reaction as he dips the needle in some red for your new tattoo. You chose a nice rose to cover your ex’s name. “Still scared of needles?” he chortles. You nod, focusing on the needle. “Just grab my hand and breathe, okay?” He puts out his hand for you to take, but you stop him from plugging in the gun.

“Oh, wait!” you exclaim and begin digging in your purse. You then pull out a bedazzled weed pen and take a hit, the smoke billowing from your soft, glossy lips that he wants to kiss again. The way they form an O makes his cock twitch. “Want some?” you ask and he leans in to take a hit. The smoke fills his lungs and he holds it as you lean in, prompting him to blow the smoke into your mouth.

Once relaxed, you nod, silently telling him to continue. “Here we go, sugar,” he gently announces. He plugs in the gun and it begins to muzzle. “Just breathe.” You do so, holding his hand and looking away as the needle gets closer to your skin. Once the first pricks come, you tense and squeeze his hand, but you still breathe. “Good girl,” he coos. “You're doin’ so, so well for me.”

You give him a wobbly smile, but the fear in your eyes has wained…mostly because he starts rubbing your clit. “S-Sugu,” you whimper, closing your trembling thighs around his hand.

“Just focus,” he instructs you as his thick fingers stroke your needy clit. “Focus on my fingers, sugar, okay?” You nod, giving him a cute expression that makes him want to fuck you all over again.

You do and all that is heard throughout the shop are the buzzing of the tattoo gun, the music, and your sweet moans.

THE END.

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