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nilanyag · 1 day ago

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yeehaw. (1/2)

synopsis — save a horse, ride a cowboy or whatever it is that they're saying out there in the wild west. OR the l&ds boys as cowboys. (1/2)

contents — fem!reader, fluff, terrible attempts at writing crack ??????, weak attempts at banter el oh el, reader has a dad who runs a ranch and she works at the ranch alongside the l&ds boys, vague descriptions of ranch life (all source material i have for the ranch lifestyle are all from the cowboy romances i've read. sry), farmhand!xavier, livestock veterinarian!zayne, (brief descriptions of) riding instructor!rafayel, sweaty stinky and shirtless l&ds cowboys, swearing, suggestive content and language, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!

featuring — xavier, zayne, & rafayel (separate fics)

notes — if infold comes out with a cowboy AU multibanner best believe i'm spending half of my life savings just to get all of them 😍 but fr, this was rly fun to make!! i've been referring to the cowboy romances that i read during my hiatus to write this, so i apologize if this isn't an exact replica of the cowboy lifestyle. u can catch sylus and caleb in part 2 <3 i had to separate them bc their AUs are different from what i cooked up for xav zayne and raf (hint: they're bull-riders eheheheh). feedback is most appreciated and if u have any more requests (or jus want to scream abt l&ds with me), you can drop them down in my ask box - no matter how unhinged or wholeseome they may be <3

check out my other stuff here ❤️‍🔥

you stumbled out of your room yawning, startled awake by multiple loud crashes down at the ranch, which was conveniently right outside your window. laughter sounded outside, followed right after by something being dropped and some colorful swearing. you vaguely remembered snoring through your father telling you that he had hired some extra hands, three or so men he’d met at a bar in town. so you couldn’t really be mad at them for being rowdy so early in the morning – they were cowboys. plus it was so early in the morning, you didn't have the energy yet to be pissed. “looks like the princess is finally awake.” your father called from the dining table. he quickly poured orange juice in an empty glass for you. “i don’t wanna hear anything about how fuckin’ loud they are down at the ranch. you should’ve been used to waking up early by now anyway.” “i wasn’t going to.” you said with an eye roll, but thanked him for the orange juice anyway. you then stepped outside, haphazardly putting on shoes to go around the back to see what the new help were doing.

Xavier stuck out like a sore thumb at the ranch, with his light hair and youthful face, but he was definitely still a sight for sore eyes out on the field. when he wasn't handling the livestock, he was moving around bales of hay and other heavy equipment, his biceps bulging and his jaw tense from the effort.

you'd spot him out on the field wearing nothing but grimy jeans, a white hat, a pair of boots, and a pair of leather gloves as he moved a new shipment of hay. it was why you were grateful for a window by your bed; you had full free access to ogle at anything and everything he did out there.

but it was also why you hated it. xavier somehow knew when you'd be watching him, like it was instinctual for him (or you were just staring too much that it bordered on creepiness). he'd catch your eye through the window just as he hauled another bale into the back of his truck, and smile when you'd quickly turn away in embarrassment.

he was a hit with the kids and the chickens, handling them their milk and feed in record time and effectively shutting them up for the next five hours. the horses were a different story with xavier, though. you often had to help him out with them, as they sometimes get a bit picky on who gets to feed and generally care for them.

you couldn't help but find it hilarious that both xavier and the horses flinch whenever they see and come into any kind of contact with each other. he's had a few extremely close calls with their back legs, but they eventually managed to warm up enough for xavier to finally begin sensitivity training for them.

speaking of sensitivity training, you were surprised to spot him outside your home about to knock on your door.

"xavier?" you called, opening the door for him before he could rap his fist on the wood.

"hey, y/n." xavier greeted you as he placed his hand over at the top of your doorframe, leaning over you with his entire height. you gulped at how he was basically towering over you, his shadow covering most of your figure.

"do you think i can borrow your dresses for the horses?" he asked, in the same tone he would use when he would ask for a basket of eggs.

you blanched, taken aback from his request as your flustered state immediately broke. "um. i don't think my dresses will fit the horses." you replied with an eyebrow raised.

"no, it's for me." xavier quickly reassured you, pointing to himself, but it did little to actually reassure you. "i'm starting to do sensitivity training on the new horses we're fostering, and i forgot to bring my usual stuff from my apartment." he said.

you scoffed at his ridiculousness, and how serious he was taking his ridiculousness. "uh... i don't think my dresses will fit you either." you replied, this time with a chuckle you couldn't hold back. your eyes flitted over his figure subconsciously, and he caught you in the act with a smirk.

"how would you know that, y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his hat tilting along with the movement.

your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you turned away from him, avoiding his eyes that were suddenly very interested in you. "what color did you want that dress, xavier?" you asked instead, walking to your bedroom with him following behind with a chuckle.

xavier in a bright yellow dress over his jeans that barely zipped up his back still managed to look good. he also decided to ditch his hat for one of your ribbon headbands, and also snatched up your father's old new year's glasses from 2006. you held back a laugh behind the palm of your hand as you watched him, wanting to keep it professional for his sake at least.

armed with a folding umbrella, xavier stood by one of the brown horses, who refused to make eye contact with him. he quickly tightened his grip around the rope holding the horse, then clicked open the umbrella, to which the horse flinched back and pulling xavier with him.

you couldn't hold back your laugh when xavier stumbled at the force of the horse's movements. he looked back at you with a grin of his own.

"enjoying yourself, y/n?" he asked.

"very much so," you replied, still laughing.

it continued on for several hours, with xavier getting up to anything just to startle the poor horse. there truly was no wrong way to go about desensitizing a horse - dropping things accidentally and mixing up words managed to work anyway.

by the end of the session, the horse still flinched at the slightest of sudden sounds and movement, but it was less violent now - that's a win in xavier's book. you retired back to your front porch with a book and a pitcher of iced tea after xavier's antics got boring by the 30-minute mark.

you snorted when the cowboy walked up your porch still in your dress and other accessories in hand. he had his hat on this time instead of your headband, which contrasted greatly against the yellow dress he still had on. the dress had dirt on the edges of the skirt and mud splatters over the torso, which also splattered over the side of his neck.

it was infuriating how he still managed to look so fucking good.

"you're doing the laundry for that one." you told him instead, laughing loudly as he approached you. he took your half-empty glass of iced tea and drank all of it in one go.

"i think i managed to zip this thing up completely after i crawled in between shane's legs." xavier said as he poured himself another glass.

you snorted, "why'd you give the horse a human name?"

xavier shrugged, "he looked like a shane."

you laughed again, and xavier smiled to himself as he finished drinking up his second glass of iced tea. he set down the glass back on its coaster and turned his back to you, "can you unzip me? i cant reach the zipper now that it's zipped all the way up."

you laughed as your hands reach up to undo the zipper. it only zipped up to his lower back, right below where his hard chest couldn't be squeezed into the fabric. but miraculously it managed to zip all the way up.

"never thought i'd be the one unzipping my dress from another person." you joked. xavier turned his head to you with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

"oh? did you want me to unzip your dress for you, then?" he teased as the zipper finally opened up enough for him to take his arms out of the dress's sleeves.

"i- xavier!" you exclaimed, face slowly heating up again like he did earlier in the day.

you stared at his glistening back as he stepped out of the dress through the skirt. xavier turned to face you this time, folding your dress neatly into one hand. his head tilted to the side and a deceivingly innocent smile appeared on his face as he held out his hand for you to take.

"come on. show me where you do your laundry." he said, back to his innocent antics like he didn't just give you a heart attack.

Zayne looked like he should be the last person working at a ranch. he showed up like he stumbled upon the wrong place at the wrong time, his eyes unsure and uneasy.

but then your father quickly steered him to the heavily pregnant goat inside the barn, whose leg was sprained after it got knocked over during the night. zayne quickly got to work to bandaging up the poor mom, managing to get its leg healed and working in no time.

you often just stood by the veterinarian in astonishment, just watching zayne work his magic onto the other livestock. he was probably the only rancher you've seen who never gets plucked at by the chickens, or be head-butted by the goats, or have the horses flinch away from his touch. you've had your fair share of veterinarians at the ranch, but they were never as young and efficient (and honestly, handsome) as he was.

when he wasn't out checking up on the livestock, zayne was moving around bales of hay and heavy equipment. you didn't know why you were surprised that a man as handsome and capable as zayne had a toned body of his own - walking around the ranch with just a oil-stained wife-beater, muddy jeans, and a pair of worn down boots.

zayne was quiet, kept to himself most of the time, and did his job quickly and orderly. he was practically every rancher's wet dream in terms of being responsible. you had to give it to him for being passionate about his work; it was clear as day that your father loved having him out at the field.

safe to say, you had grown a little fond of the stoic doctor, despite his apparent disinterest in you. he only ever spared you hums and nods of acknowledgement whenever you'd assist him, and preferred to reply to you in monosyllabic sentences.

it was hilarious to think that this was literally all you had to gain your silly crush on him - just assisting him whenever he needed it and being at arm's length from him.

still, it was enough for you to have your cheeks flushing whenever you saw him, or stand beside him as he worked. because at least you had something to look forward to when waking up for another grueling day at the field. you've long accepted that he will never realistically be interested in you at all, and that everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but if you were being honest with yourself, a tiny bit of hope was still clinging onto the tendrils of your heart - that maybe, maybe he feels the same way as you do.

it was the little things he did; it might as well be a figment of your imagination with how seldom it happens. but you know that his eyes following you from across the barn means something, or that the way his hand guides you out of the way from a fussy horse isn't just a thing he does all the time. you know, deep down in your heart, there's something there.

however, each time it happens, as you lay down on your bed every night, staring up at your ceiling in the dark, you remind yourself once more - everything between the two of you was to be kept strictly professional.

but it was on a friday evening that you and zayne were alone out on the field. the little bonfire he made crackled and popped, mixing in with the sounds of the quiet night at the countryside. you walked out of the house with candied fruits and iced tea, a small reward for the hard work done for the day. zayne accepted the fruit enthusiastically - he seemed to have a sweet tooth.

"any plans for the weekend, dr. zayne?" you asked. zayne shook his head and sipped on his iced tea.

"no - i'd rather be here." he replied.

"ah..." you nodded, a little embarrassed at how quickly he shot down your attempt in small talk. "...well, me too. the bar down town's a little grungy, anyway." you said, a feeble crack at filling up the silence between the both of you.

zayne hummed and nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "i'd rather be here with you."

the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you tried to process his words, his voice, his everything. you turned to him, unsure of what to say - what to do, "wh- what?"

zayne, to your horror, looked completely serious. what a bad time to remember that he rarely ever joked around, especially with you. "i like your company, y/n." he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "i'd rather stay here in the quiet with you after a long day of work than to go anywhere else for the weekend."

your heartbeat quickening, you tried to think of something to say, something smart or witty to reply to his sudden confession. but you were helplessly blanking out. "o-oh. um... i wasn't expecting you to say that."

zayne cocked his head to the side, still keeping his gaze on you. "what did you expect me to say, y/n?"

you shrug with a singular shoulder, squirming helplessly underneath his gaze. "i dunno - that you're busy. or have to work overnight." literally anything else that doesn't make me hope that i have a chance for you.

"i managed to finish the day's work in record time, and i don't like working outside my work hours." zayne replied matter-of-factly, adjusting the watch on his wrist. "and that's because of your help. you help me maintain my work that i don't see the need to work overtime. at this rate, you must be sick of seeing me."

"what? no, i don't." you replied in shock.

"really?" zayne asked, his lips forming a wide smile this time. "you're by my side almost 24/7 down at the ranch at work. wouldn't you be appalled that i still want to spend my time with you after work?"

you scoffed in disbelief, frazzled by his sudden confessions coming at you from all sides. you avoid his eyes, still intently staring at you, burning holes into your skin at this point. "i'm more surprised that you want to see me all the time." you said softly.

"why, do you want to see me all the time?"

you hadn't noticed that zayne had moved to sit right beside you. you flinched at the warm shoulder that bumped against yours, rendering you breathless as you faced him, your eyes finally meeting his.

no words were exchanged. you hoped your your hammering heartbeat was enough of an answer for him. no words were actually exchanged, as you were too busy leaning in to kiss him while the bonfire slowly burned out into the starry night.

Rafayel liked to show up at the ranch early in the morning. while you were still busy catching up on sleep, he's already working on a few stuff around the barn. you were often not-so-rudely woken up by some drilling and hammering down at the ranch, and more often than not it was because rafayel saw something wrong with the equipment and thought that it needed some quick fixing.

it quickly became part of your routine to cuss him out through your window.

"can't you keep that shit down?! it's ass crack o'clock!" you yelled with your eyes still struggling to open all the way. rafayel paused from hammering at the fence he just fixed and turned to you with one eye closed and a delighted grin.

"sorry that i'm trying to fix the squeaking fence you were complaining about the other day, cutie!" he replied sarcastically, then proceeded to ignore your demands to continue hammering on the wood.

it went on like that as he got around the ranch. you'd complain about how loud he was being, and he'd have a witty quip for you already locked and loaded. you did your best to have as little interaction with him at the ranch as possible, but with how often your tasks coincided with his, it was almost impossible not to run into him.

he always had that exasperating, devastatingly handsome smile on his face whenever you cross paths at the ranch. with your eyes downcast, you always tried to pretend you hadn't even noticed him, doing something on your phone or checking if you'd stepped on something as he passed by you. you'd let out a sigh of relief as he just leaves without saying anything else to you, but you don't miss the cheeky laugh that trails after you.

"honestly cutie, you're like, my favorite co-worker." rafayel declared after hauling the trash out on the back. you scoffed at his words, appalled that he'd even say that out loud. "i'm the only lunatic who's crazy enough to work the same shifts as you." you replied.

"exactly. great minds think alike, no?" rafayel winked at you, lurching your heart to your throat in surprise.

"you're a dumbass."

your father quickly got rafayel to do horseback riding lessons for visitors and tourists at the ranch - he was young and had a boyish charm to him that hollywood liked to give cowboys in their movies. children loved the friendly cowboy with the winning smile, who has a steady hand over their backs and another on the horse's reins.

but he was especially a hit with the women, who bat their eyelashes at the cowboy and squirm in delight when he tells them to hold onto the reins tighter with a firm voice. either rafayel was clueless to their blatant flirting, or he just didn't care. the amount of filth these women had spewing out their mouths was honestly laughable.

and you don't blame them at all. rafayel was indeed gorgeous, despite how infuriating he was to talk to most of the time. but you don't go around telling that kind of information to anybody else; he'd have a field day if he finds out that his "favorite co-worker" thought he had pretty eyes and soft hair that she'd like to touch.

nothing ever really comes out of the flirting, though. unlike the average cowboy, rafayel didn't care much about attracting the most amount of admirers. he's always hard at work, like he's got something to prove. he fixes leaking pipes, screws and unscrews things, and can paint murals on the back of barns like nothing. he has his eyes set on something else, it seemed.

"cutie! wait up!"

just as you were about to climb up into your truck, rafayel caught up with you. he was sweating all over, his clothes stained with oil and mud, and a part of his cheek covered in streaks of mud. he furiously wiped away the dirt on his face with a damp towel as he approached you. despite all the grime that covered him, he still managed to smell like expensive perfume.

"you stink, rafayel." you said despite that, moving away from him. rafayel gave you a little shrug and swept a hand through his hair, slicking it back with his sweat.

"some twin boys almost fell off a horse. somebody had to hold them away from the mud." he replied. he pointed to your truck with his thumb, grinning widely. "can i drive us to dinner?"

you raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious of his motives, to which he pouted and pulled out his ridiculous puppy-dog face at you. "please, y/n? i want that steak you told me to get last time i went with your dad." he pleaded.

"you want to go get steak without your boss?" you asked with a humorless laugh, turning away from him to open the door the driver's seat. "you asking me out on a date, rafayel?"

"duh." rafayel said, leaning on your truck with one arm against the side. he held out on hand and began listing down things with his fingers, "i'll pay for our meal, i'll be the best gentleman, and i'll take you home back home before 10. promise!"

you blanched at his insistence - you were truly only joking with him about the date, but whatever he's offering sounded really good. this was one of the many times he's tried to take you out somewhere, and you've only ever brushed him off every time he did so.

you glanced at rafayel's face, whose smile grew wider the more the silence stretched on. he leaned in closer, giving you a closer look at his handsome smile. you felt your resolve slowly crack away; you truly couldn't stand this cowboy...

"if you stop touching my radio, we'll get steak." you deadpanned.

"i'll skip only one song, cutie. just one, then i'll never judge your music taste again." rafayel bargained with his hands clasping together. you rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness, then tilted your head to your truck, signaling him to get in.

rafayel cheered as he quickly climbed up the driver's seat. you walked around to get to the front seat, shivering at the cold air gusting from the air-conditioning. rafayel slumped back into his seat, relieved to be away from the heat of the afternoon sun.

"your truck's soooo nice, y/n." he groaned in satisfaction, "you've got functioning air-conditioning, soft cushions, little to no scratches on the truck. you're a wonderful driver."

you snorted as you grabbed your box of CDs, looking through your selection. "if you actually know how to take care of your truck, you wouldn't be complimenting it like this." you said.

"but how else am i going to have a chance to be this close to you, cutie?" rafayel teased, sitting up straight this time and turning the truck on. dumbstruck at his response, you turned to him with your mouth agape. "are you dumb?" you asked.

rafayel shook his head. "nope, just think you're pretty."

you choked on a gasp. "rafayel!"

he laughed out loud as he put the truck in drive. "what?" he asked, pretending to look innocent.

you scoffed, "you're ridiculous."

"you like it."

you didn't respond, afraid that you'll say that you do.

taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!

@berrryparfait @lioria @babypetri @hyunlixwife @zuhaeri @c9tnoos @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @sixeyedgodswife @celestialforce @syxlx @dana-nite @lacejinnie @thearynn @feralkuromi @destinysrequiem @thesrtuggleisveryreal @orange-stars @mocha-the-muse @usertala @kpop-and-otome @serendididy @zephilyr @ywnzn @a-jynx @elitheidiot1 @almondtofuus @goldenroses @esspeon @froleineeeee

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nilanyag · 2 days ago

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Alphabet headcanons with Amphoreous men;

✰ Characters: Anaxa, Mydei, Phainon.

✰ Words: 4,8k+

✰ SFW ;

Warnings: none, gn!reader.

A/N: I hope i wrote anaxa at least okayish.. i like to think hes pretty extra with his so. lol. sobs. still confused ;w; some of Phainon stuff is assumed, since he isn’t out yet! Just a heads up!

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A = Affection (How affectionate are they with an s/o?)

Anaxa is quite moderate when it comes to affection, but does not want to deprive you of it. He values having private space for himself and would more often than not share affection with you behind closed doors; though, he does have a soft spot for you and some subtle touches here and there, like having his hand over yours hidden by his desk while he lectures his students, or giving you a quick hug when greeting you.

Mydei, on the other hand, has no problem with showing you affection anywhere, but has a reputation to uphold - that being said, he's absolutely proud to have you as his partner and his ways of showing you affection are graceful. He's fond of having his arm around your waist, holding your hand, and giving you tender kisses once in a while, but behind closed doors, the prince is all over you.

Phainon wants to drown you in affection anywhere, anytime, but unfortunately, he's an adult in the adult world, so he tries to control himself. He's very open about having a significant other and also wants to show that he too, is already taken. He's also very excited to be on the receiving end. Phainon cradles your face when you share your first kiss of the day, hugs you from behind when you least expect it, and loves when you take him by the hand. He just wants you close to him all the time.

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

If you manage to outsmart Anaxa, he'll be honestly frozen in shock for a good moment. Quite shocked that once he recovers, he lets himself laugh like a maniac, and then pulls you to dance in the middle of the room. He's proud. That's why he chose you out of everyone else, after all.

For the immortal warrior like Mydei - the more you fight him, the more he respects you, and the same includes you, even as his significant other. In fact, the more you beat his ass, the more he loves you. Once you manage to seriously wound him, better yet! Kill him! He'll be popping the question as soon as he's back.

You take Phainon's breath away by existing. In all seriousness, your compassion, courage, and empathy are what usually make Phainon stop in his tracks and admire you. Whether it is towards the citizens or his close friends, it matters not; his heart swells with pride when you fight for a good cause.

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Anaxa, again, is quite neutral about cuddling - he doesn't initiate it very often unless he notices your sour mood or if you had a bad day in general, but also doesn't push your clinging form away from him if and lets you do your thing if you're the one initiating cuddles. He prefers to cuddle whenever you both have some free time or when he grades (fails) his students' papers. Usually, he's fine by just having your body near each other - shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh; he might also sling his arm around your neck. As long as you keep him busy conversing about various topics, he's able to cuddle for quite a while.

The lion wants his mate safe, and so does Mydei. He's fond of cuddling, especially on his throne. He pulls you close on his lap and pushes you against his chest - and so, he's content staying just like that. His arm often finds itself around your waist, occasionally going all the way down to your thigh and back up - and if you turn your head around to look at him, Mydei will sneak in a kiss on your cheek. You're also welcome to sit a little bit to the side on his lap - allowing you to wrap your hands around his neck. For Mydei, cuddle time also means a long, nice make-out session - he wants you to remember who you belong to.

Phainon views cuddling as a ritual - and so, everything must be intact. Usually, he goes a little overboard - candles, sharing a bath together, while enjoying some light food. It's a bit cliche, but Phainon's enthusiasm matches the energy. He also likes to have you on his lap, but facing him instead; his hand will massage your hips, only to tickle you. His azure eyes gaze into yours once you're done laughing; his so intense, as if he was counting the sea of stars hidden in your eyes. He follows with a delicate kiss on your chin, moving to your shoulder and leaving a brief, warm mark of his lips there as well. As his forehead leans on your shoulder, he needs no other salvation, closing his eyes and taking in your presence.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

Anaxa would love to pursue the knowledge about the world with you, Mydei wants to fight by your side, and Phainon dreams of simply spending the rest of his life with you - in the end, they desire the same thing - to keep you by their side and to remain by yours, but just how much mercy does fate truly have for their only wish?

E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

Anaxa believes that in order for a relationship to work, one hundred percent should be split between the two of you. Of course, he does put effort into it, otherwise both of you would waste each other's precious time, but also expects you to do the same. For Anaxa, putting effort into communication and understanding from your side is the most important - he shall return the favor accordingly.

Mydei too, believes that both halves make a whole - and does everything in his power to make you the happiest, while also hoping for you to pull your weight. The prince shoulders a formidable burden - and so, he wants you to understand the price of accepting this responsibility by entering a relationship with him. Nonetheless, if agree to do so - he'll make sure to make your smile shine brighter than ever until his final breath.

Phainon - a man who's probably putting in effort for 3 more people than necessary. As the part of Chrysos Heir, he tries his best to be there for you, along with bearing the weight of the world; as long as you trust him, that's all he needs to repay for your kindness twice as much.

F = Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

Anaxa's first thought is to fight your fear with logic, though, not always - when his explanations are in vain, he brings you close, embracing you gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner. Usually, he handles it adequately - he means well with his words, but perhaps too much logic is also not good; still, he's open to learn - and later on, his words include a tinge of comfort, while also distracting you.

„There’s no need for you to fear, I won’t let you go that easily - not even death is saving you from this relationship.” (He’s trying)

Mydei takes your fears seriously, no matter how insignificant they might be. He takes you in his arms first in order to check your condition - once he ensures you're safe, whatever dared to scare his beloved is bound to suffer as horribly. It's a no-brainer that Mydei's go-to comfort is physical touch - he'll be there for you until you feel better, caging you in his arms comfortably and offering you solace with his calm voice.

„Shh, my love, I’m right here. I’ll bring the whole world to your feet at your wish. Save your tears for the beautiful moments that await us.”

Phainon on the other hand, jumps immediately to reassure you with speech - not with logic, but with a rather soothing lecture, letting you know that he's here for you. He kneels before you and takes your hands in his, smiling gently at you, familiar warmth in his eyes that no one else can see - his gaze softens as he guides you back to your cheerful you. He presses a single kiss on the knuckles of your right hand before standing up and opening his arms.

„Ah! There you are! I know you’re scared, but I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. Just listen to me - you’re already doing so good. The world is scary, so I’ll be your knight - ha, ha! I only lack white armor now… Either way, as silly as it sounds, I mean every word. And I’ll try doing everything, everything… so that you no longer remember what it’s like to feel fear. I promise.”

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

Anaxa finds himself gifting you mostly books - their contents vary, some of them simply piqued his interest enough that he wants to share them with you, some are deliberately harder to understand - so he’s able to explain them to you. If he finds a book of your favorite genre or author, this one is also landing on your desk. He doesn’t expect to get a gift back - „you don’t give others gifts to get one back,” or at least that’s what he always says. Also… dromases merch…

Mydei is a simple man - you’ll always see him with flowers in one hand, and a basket in another. The said basket is usually full of baked goods from the prince himself - after all, he’s put his whole heart into it, so it surely is going to taste even better. Mydei’s undeniable skill in cooking is truly something else, but the true reward is in your overjoyed expression once your tastebuds get hit with the intense combination of flavors. There aren’t many things that make Mydei flush red, except for your ecstatic praises about his gifts.

Phainon is a man of handmade gifts too! He loves commemorating your relationship through crafts such as albums, scrapbooks, or your favorite paper animals. He has once attempted to paint you, unfortunately it ended up horribly, but you still put it on your wall. What's even more unfortunate is that he has to see it every day. Due to his busy schedule, he prepares them slowly, nervously checking their contents to verify their quality. Phainon will never admit it, but would love to get a gift in return.

H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Anaxa’s hugs are brief, but meaningful - at least in the beginning. As time passes, he grows to like them, but will deny it when confronted - such is the nature of a stubborn man. Nonetheless, as your relationship progresses, Anaxa begins to think of them as a routine; at some point, his body automatically goes out to hug you. Sometimes he lingers longer than usual - but you never complain. His favorite hug is the classic one, where your arms wrap around his neck, while his embrace your waist. Psst, do it the other way around and he'll yelp.

Mydei is rather comfortable with physical contact, so hugs for him are an inseparable part of the relationship; even if the world forces him to bathe in blood, he still knows how to handle a fragile rose. He'll never get enough of how perfectly you fit in his arms, your scent, and radiating warmth. Usually, he holds you just right, with one exception - when he comes back post-battle; he holds you tightly, one arm around your lower back, the other tangling itself in your hair - while Mydei buries his face in your neck for a moment. His favorite casual hugs are side hugs and any allowing him to see your face.

Phainon is all about hugs! Your hugs remind him of a sanctuary that only he is allowed to enter; most of the time it's him who actually feels safer when you two hug - and due to this, he truly has no preference on which hugs are his favorite. Every single one is his favorite! As long as they're from you. When it's Phainon who hugs you first, it's usually from behind you - accompanied with his hands covering your eyes, his excited voice asking, “Guess who?” What a silly guy.

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Anaxa is a biiit constipated when it comes to romance, but knows and treasures the importance of intimacy, not necessarily the physical one, but emotional and intellectual. He wants to provide you with closeness and connection, but by the end of the day, Anaxa wants to see you grow and thrive.

Mydei is romantic. HE IS THE ROMANCE ITSELF. And this is the hill I'll die on. He expresses all the passion, love, and affection to you with no occasion needed; that's just how he is. In his eyes, you're far higher than a queen or king, a person unmatched that tends to his heart, and he pampers yours in return. Mydei is also on board with intimacy - of any kind. Anything that brings you closer to him, he'll want to cherish and try it out with you.

Phainon is a mix of both, trying to balance out the romance and intimacy. In his eyes, there's no romance without being truly intimate; romance is important as it nourishes further your relationship, but intimacy keeps it in check. He might keep a very good happy facade, but it's only a matter of time before it crumbles - and he's not going to vent that out to just anyone. Emotional intimacy matters to him quite a lot.

J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Ha! Do you truly think Anaxa would fall that low? Welll, maybe. He doesn't get jealous that easily, he trusts you - so it'd truly take a lot until he snaps. Depending on his mood, Anaxa either sends them an icy glare or begins his dramatic performance to humiliate them until they're crying from embarrassment. Who in the right mind dares to flirt with Professor Anaxagoras’ partner?! They shall regret their actions. Afterwards, he acts like nothing happened.

Mydei is probably least likely to be jealous - again, trust is vital for him. When he's jealous, well… all he has to do is stand behind you and silently glare at that person. I mean, look at him. I don't think anyone wants to mess with the Prince of Kremnos… either way, please give Mydei a reassuring hug. He'll be pouting until you do so. And probably make Phainon's food taste even worse.

Phainon tends to be the most jealous out of everyone, but it stems from him being worried he isn't enough for you. Someone truly has to break a boundary to make him jealous and thus, somewhat mad - but most of the time, his jealousy is just an annoying thing in his head that stays until that person goes away. He keeps stealing nervous glances at you, sighing in shame when he gets caught. Phainon obviously doesn't act up on it further than that, he knows it's irrational.

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

Anaxa is…surprisingly a very good kisser. He does like to kiss (duh), but mostly prefers to do it somewhere alone with you. In public, if he actually kisses you - he purposely leaves you on edge, wanting more. You definitely catch him giving you kisses more than hugging - it’s just more efficient and satisfying. Anaxa’s favorite place to kiss you is on the corners of your mouth - just to tease you a bit more, while he enjoys having his fingers kissed.

Mydei is a natural at kissing, and his kisses switch depending on the mood he currently has. Once they’re so tender, reminiscent of a falling feather, letting you know he’s there, embracing you like a warm blanket, or hungrily marking your neck, while your swollen lips are taking a break. He does enjoy when YOU mark him too, or at least attempt to - since they don’t stay on him very long; but if you dare, kiss all over his scarlet marks. Mydei likes to kiss your forehead and eyelids the most, but on himself - probably his collarbones.

Phainon too, is pretty good at kissing and does it quite everywhere, while adhering to the setting’s etiquette. He needs no occasion to do that, just seeing you is enough. He kisses you passionately, even if they don’t last long - he’s pouring all the love he has through them, accompanied by cradling one of your cheeks. His favorite places to kiss you are the apples of your cheeks and your chin, Phainon on the other hand - melts when you kiss him on his forehead (you probably have to stand on your tiptoes to reach him, which makes him like it even more. It’s just adorable). What a simp.

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Anaxa prefers to show his love rather than express it through words. He's very perceptive and it doesn't take him very long to figure out your favorite things, in fact - he actually likes showering you with gifts, even if some of them are as small as (dromas) keychains every day. But when things get serious and you end up injured - the words “I love you” roll off Anaxa’s tongue as soon as he has you in his arms.

Mydei reminds you of it pretty often, be it when you part ways for a few hours - he says a quick “love you” after giving you a kiss on the cheek, or before leaving for a longer mission - this time, he says the full phrase and seals it with a passionate kiss on your lips. He also does show it through gifts - probably something you've wanted for a while!

If Phainon could, he'd glue a piece of paper saying “I love you” to his forehead. He doesn't really need any occasion to do so, literally - he might be just watching you gulp down food like a hellish creature and sigh dreamily before saying “I love you so much.” Most of the time you insist that his verbal proof is just enough, but Phainon still shows up even with a flower in his hand anyway.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

Sure, Anaxa doesn’t mind getting married, if that’s what you want… except no one knows it even happened. Someone dares to ask a question about the ring on his finger like 5 years later and he straight-up answers like it’s common knowledge. He’d probably want a small ceremony with the most important people to you, the rest is for you to decide - not that he’s absent, he does participate, but only in the most important parts, like choosing vows. Probably writes them himself. Unless you want a wedding with 100 dromases, don't let him choose anything regarding decorations.

Mydei too would like to get married - it’s basically sealing a deal - he loves you, you love him. While it may not change that much on paper, there's a significant change in his psyche - he doesn't come back to his partner. He comes back home to see his spouse. The Kremnoan prince loves being referred to as your husband. The ceremony itself would most likely include all the Chrysos Heir (important: do not let anaxa be the priest) and people closest to you. Surprisingly, Mydei feels nervous waiting for you at the altar, but once he sees you walking down the aisle, glowing and almost tearing up - all the worries fade away; he can't wait any longer.

If you think Phainon wouldn't want to marry you, then you need to read it all over again. He's absolutely overjoyed when you accepted his proposal, and is very active when it comes to preparing for the wedding. Your wedding bands have each other's names on them, and there's a very high chance Phainon was present during the creation of the said rings. The ceremony would be pretty small, but very extravagant - and he's DEFINITELY ugly crying before it even starts. Mydei is his best man. And also probably holds a box of tissues for Phainon to blow his nose into. While it's true that the Chrysos Heir is his only family, if you decided to commemorate the people from Aedes Elysiae - the poor thing is genuinely sobbing from happiness and heartbreak in a separate room.

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

If you don’t mind getting your hands dirty, Anaxa would invite you to tinker with various things; it brings him back to his childhood, but it’s also the reason that brought him to the present day. If you’re in a hurry - a simple dinner is enough to satisfy him.

Mydei loves going on walks with you, his beloved by his side, while taking in the happiness of people around him, especially at night. When most sleep, he breathes in your beauty illuminated by the moon.

Phainon needs a little bit of rest from the important stuff once in a while - and honestly, anything domestic would be a good date for him. A shopping date, picking out new furniture, or giving him a massage. Yeah, a massage would be good…

O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

Anaxa is truly ready to sacrifice himself - he'd read romance books and recommend the best ones for you.

Mydei would attempt to make you something involving arts and crafts, but… maybe he should just stick to cooking…

Phainon would probably agree to a horror movie marathon. Unfortunately, that also includes him yelping and moving closer to you until he's clinging to your arm the whole night.

P = Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

Anaxa likes to banter with you - and the more clever your comebacks are, the more determined he is to make his own even better. If you manage to shut him up, he'll probably take you on that god-damned desk and no one will stop him.

“Haha.. Ahahaha! You rendered me speechless! Finally, there is hope for this world! MORE!”

Mydei never turns down your special game of hide and seek - you've mentioned it once before for fun and offered that the winner can wish for anything, but the idea of chasing his little prey piqued his interest more than the reward. Ever since then, when time allows him to - he chases you around Castrum Kremnos, but you always end up with his shadow looming over you.

“Ah… the lion caught you once again.”

Curse Phainon and his long limbs! His tickling is ruthless and he knows it - by the time he's done with you, he has you in tears on the couch. But… you also have a weapon against him - faking your pain and getting your revenge. Did I mention he's ABSURDLY ticklish?

“Haha, look at you! I won't let you get away now! Hey, are you alright? Why are you holding your stomach like this? Hey, hey, answer me, did I hu— HAHAHAHA! No, I— hahaha, FELL FOR THIS AG-HAHAHAIN!” You only touched his knee..

Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

YES. Anaxa wants to know what's on your mind and how your mind works (for science of course) ((he's the science)). Especially if he finds something controversial - he's immediately sending you a text, unless it's something so intriguing that he needs to see your reaction. Conversations are probably the most important and impressive parts of your relationship.

Mydei also values your opinion! He often asks you about the quality of his cooking, but doesn't limit himself only to that. He's very open to discussions - it allows him to possibly change his trajectory of thinking and pondering about his other options, especially if your opinions differ.

Once you unleash Phainon's curiosity, he'll keep questioning you until your mouth becomes dry. He wants to know everything! Your favorite color, flowers, the color of that flower! This serial yapper shares his opinions and hopes you're going to further expand on the topic.

R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Considering they're all Chrysos Heir, their life is almost all the time spontaneous and they don't plan that much ahead in the future. But if they could choose: Anaxa would love to plan things more than let fate decide. Mydei - is fine with both planning and letting things happen by themselves. Phainon would plan things - but usually end up completing them spontaneously.

S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

Done here by accident lol

T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

I’d love to write them separately, but all three trust you with their own life. Entering a relationship with them means helping them shoulder their burden, but they offer you unconditional trust in return. They have no other choice.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

You and Anaxa complement each other like yin and yang - what’s his weakness, it’s your strength, and the opposite. While it may seem like a flaw, Anaxa strives to understand the world from your eyes, only to realize that beauty too, lies in things perceived as illogical. Likewise, he tests your limits and boundaries, but solely because he wants you to be prepared for many outcomes; perhaps, when one day he’s reduced to ash, having to watch over you in a form of spirit, he wants you to live on, succeed and surpass him. He shall be the guiding star in the vast, clouded sky.

Mydei is a gentle giant, whose heart is destined to bleed; even if death was his companion longer than anybody else, he’s still willing to let you put a protective bandaid on it and nurture it back to health. In return, Mydei serves as a shield around your heart, not allowing anyone past his unbreakable barrier, preserving your devotion. Bloodied his hands may be, but his love is that of the purest, reminiscent of a pearl lost long ago, yet glimmering just the same beyond the damaged shell.

Phainon as your significant other becomes the driving force to change the world; when you fall, he’s offering you his hand to help you stand back up. His unwavering loyalty transcends the shadows, the touch of his fingertips brings back the colors and patterns to the world painted in black and white. If your body dares to fall numb to the reaper’s scythe, his tears shall act as sprouts leading for a better tomorrow, granting him your warm embrace yet again.

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

Anaxa takes the most time out of them all to be vulnerable; there's nothing personal here - he's just aware of all people having their own agendas. Slowly but steadily, his trust for you grows, and his walls disappear one by one - it's a long process, but worth it. During that state, he's speaking in a monotone voice, avoiding eye contact and by the end, he offers you only a bittersweet smile.

Mydei is a tough cookie. He handles being vulnerable well, but it takes him a bit until he says what's on his mind - everything depends on how much he's able to trust you in this moment; pretty much as soon as he breaks the ice for the first time, he won't hesitate to speak what's on his mind next time. During that state, he's face falls, eyebrows draw together in heartache and occasionally, tears well up in his golden eyes.

I feel like Phainon is very emotionally available, so it's only a matter of time before he says what's inside his head; he doesn't need any more time nor proof. During that state, Phainon's hands curl into fists, his jaw tightens, and his cerulean eyes become glossy - only for his lips to quiver, letting the first tear run down his cheek.

W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

Anaxa is surprisingly a very good housewife. Actually, he kinda likes cleaning, changing the bedsheets, dusting, watering the plants, all that jazz. For some reason, he also looks very ethereal doing it? You know, the sun rays hugging his face like he owns it, sparkling with beauty. And then he kicks you off the bed along with the sheet…

Most of the time Mydei has no other choice to wake up very early, which means you're still asleep - but ever since both of you share a home together, he hasn't failed to not give you a sweet kiss on your temples on your sleeping form. He cooks up a quick breakfast if possible before leaving, but ideally, he'd want to serve you breakfast in bed.

Phainon is the most groggy person in the morning that exists. He also refuses to talk, and answers you by whining in a different tone. He thinks of himself as a good person, but… maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that he won't get up until you pepper his face in kisses…

X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Anaxa is not a fool - he brings you to a doctor as soon as possible, unless the situation doesn't allow him to - resorting to alchemy if that’s his last option.

Mydei uses parts of his clothing to tame your bleeding, defending your body from taking even more damage while waiting for healers - he wishes he could do more than that.

Phainon’s emotions get the best of him at the worst time - leaving him with doing the necessary things before wanting to break down, but knowing he can’t let that happen until help arrives.

Y = Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

It's A-NAK-SA-GO-RAS.

Mydei can't stand dirty dishes on the kitchen counter. Please put them in the sink! Poor wife.

Phainon and you both share the same pet peeve for each other: sacrificing yourself.

Z = Zzz (What’s a sleeping habit of theirs?)

Not really a sleeping habit I think? But Anaxa will NOT sleep in a bed with crumbs and nasty bedsheets.

Mydei puts on silly pajamas you buy for him… and still looks like he was carved by Michaelangelo himself...

Phainon is a terrible snorer, but stops when you kick him. It’s okay, he doesn’t mind. Would probably thank you, even.

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nilanyag · 2 days ago

Text

How they sleep with you - HSR Edition!

✰ Characters: Anaxa, Phainon, Mydei, Sunday, Aventurine, Boothill, Jiaoqiu.

✰ Words: 1,3k.

✰ SFW ; a tiny bit sug/gestive in aven's part.

Warnings: none, gn!reader.

A/N: first time writing for anaxa, phainon, aven and sunday. pls spare me if theyre too ooc :( i tried pensive emoji

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Anaxa:

Religiously sticks to his half of the bed and expects you to do the same as well. Be aware that if you don't behave, he'll poke you intensely with a pointer until you return to your side. It's not that he is uncomfortable with physical contact per se, but he appreciates his personal space; he's not completely heartless though, as he finishes off his day with a kiss that leaves you both breathless. What you may not expect this for the first few times is that when the sun rises ever so slowly, the professor is the one desperately clinging to you, making his lengthy battle the night prior dissipate within mere hours.

"No such things happened," Anaxa answers swiftly, "however, this does not surprise me. This isn't the first time you've devised a ridiculous statement."

You would've believed his words if Anaxa wasn't currently nuzzling into your shoulder blades, searching for your warmth.

Phainon:

If Anaxa at least attempts to keep his distance, Phainon knows nothing of sorts. He's quite shamelessly glued to you as soon as you enter your bedroom, let alone the bed itself. Though, you're not exactly sleeping as soon as you crawl under the covers - Phainon tends to have a cuddle session before finally succumbing to sleep. He wants to talk to you about his day and hear about yours - only then he's satisfied enough. Bedtime might also act as a rare, vulnerable time for Phainon, where no filter exists; he says everything that keeps him restless.

"Will you be there when I wake up?" Phainon only hopes his voice is not as broken as it is inside his head.

"Silly, of course. I'll be by your side every time you wake up." Your tender tone is enough to fade some of the somber clouds above his head.

Phainon laughs, but it comes out as bittersweet; he brings you closer and wraps his arm tightly around your side, hiding his face in your neck. He'll do everything to make it happen - even if it means fighting the fate itself.

Mydei:

The Kremnoan prince insists he doesn't require sleep, but falls victim to your puppy eyes. He makes sure you have the best quality of sheets, pajamas, and pillows; your comfort comes first to him, no matter how many times you insist that he brings you the said comfort the most, and the rest is insignificant. Mydei holds you close to his chest, playing softly with your hair to help you fall asleep - only then he's able to rest, knowing your soul is peacefully in repose. If plagued by nightmares, featherlight kisses on your eyelids wreak the foes away.

"Sleep well, my love," Mydei cradles your cheek for a moment, before adjusting himself; his lips are resting against your forehead, as he himself, begins to doze off.

You, on the other hand, watch Mydei sleep in the morning. A wide smile spreads on your face as you observe his chest fall and rise, a moment of interrupted serenity on his handsome face.

"Looking at me again?" The male questions, his deep voice dripping with honey, watching you with one eye open; perhaps not yet ready for the bright light.

"No...?"

Mydei pinches your nose lightheartedly.

"You're a bad liar."

Sunday:

Poor thing trying to break the habit. Being used to having everything in perfect state, Sunday needs a reminder that it's okay for bedsheets to have a few wrinkles here and there. He'll apologize nervously, but you can't stop him from fluffing up your pillows and readjusting the covers. He tries to stay on his half but desperately wants to stay close to you, so don't hesitate to pull him close - he'll freak out for a bit, and then slowly, but steadily give in to your touch. There's one thing you too, cannot resist - watching his innocent image crumble away in your very hands.

"Quit smushing my face against your—" Sunday's words die in his throat as you push his face further into your chest, the redness of his cheeks so bright, it could rival Himeko's scarlet hair.

"This is— this is inappropriate! How humiliating..."

You only laugh at your boyfriend's despair. Sometimes it's nice to be a villain.

"What, you're not gonna fight me? Are you chickening out?" You poke his side. He groans and bends in half for a second.

"Atrocious joke."

Be prepared for his wing accidentally hitting your face tomorrow when you kiss...

Himeko: lmfaoo robin you wont believe they actually did this *sends a video*

Aventurine:

Gambling who sleeps on the floor. You don't play that game anymore. The blonde finds great pleasure in aggravating you before sleep hits in, gambling with his own life to get a reaction out of you. He cackles mischievously if you try to suffocate him with a pillow for tickling you for at least 15 minutes prior, but even so, it's not enough for him to let you go to the dreamland, yet. By the time you're done, your bed needs to be made again and your shared panting could possibly give bystanders a very different idea...

"Aven, enough, I think my diaphragm might actually explode," a remnant of giggles still exits your mouth, unfortunately, Aventurine does not share your sentiment and snakes his arm against your belly, while kissing your neck a bit too enthusiastically.

"Stopping, now? Where's the fun in that?" His fingers play with the waistband of your pajamas, "Why not raise the stakes a bit more?" Your skin turns into goosebumps as you feel a grin painting itself on Aventurine's face against your neck.

Boothill:

Well, he doesn't sleep really, he has to get recharged with electricity to get the energy back... So there might be a problem. Hopefully, your bed is also able to support some heavy weight, since laying down with a man whose body is almost a full machine, can be quite challenging. Either way, Boothill is actually pretty excited to accompany you, even if he'll spend most of the time watching you sleep instead; he'll hum you a song to help you fall asleep, card through your hair with his hand - it's... Reminding him of the peace he used to have on his home planet. You being the only survivor besides Boothill made him much more protective than before, but seeing you sleep so blissfully curled up to him... You still trust him. That's all it matters, after so many sleepless nights you've had.

"Shh, sleep," Boothill urges you gently, pulling up the bedding to cover you further.

"I wish you could sleep with me."

Boothill chuckles, caressing your cheek with his robotic finger, "I might not sleep with ya anymore, but I'm still here. And will be, until yer sick of me."

Jiaoqiu:

This man. He wraps his whole body around you like a snake and doesn't let go until morning. If it's possible for him to entangle his tail somewhere - expect that too. If you try to escape his grasp, he'll accuse you of not loving him anymore and might bite you (in a teasing way, of course). The sly foxian tends to sneak his hands under your clothes to rest them over your bare skin; sometimes, if need be, instead of teasing you furthermore, he gives you a soothing massage before drifting off. In fact, he'd prefer to sleep bare - skin to skin, but respects it if you're not interested; not that a mere layer will stop him from being a menace.

"Jiaoqiu," you sigh, looking over your shoulder, "your tail is reaching places that the sun cannot."

"Oh, really?" His voice dripping with fake surprise, but he only adjusts his head against the pillow behind you, "A checkup is necessary in order to ensure your health is in good condition."

Despite his silvery voice and elegant words, don't be fooled - mischief is laced through the tiny gaps.

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nilanyag · 2 days ago

Note

HII I saw you asking for requests so here I am!

I love your worrrkssss sm btw!

hsr men (mostly maybe Sunday, phainon, mydei, aventurine, Anaxa) feeling cuteness aggression towards reader? fluff I think!

take your time and thank you! 🙏

cuteness aggression

ft. sunday, phainon, mydei, aventurine, anaxa

tags : biting (with love), pda, physical touch, squeezing/tugging/tickling reader, FLUFF!

a/n : hii anon! this is my first ever request on this acc so i hope you enjoy it 🫶 i haven't written tooth rotting fluff like this in a long time so i hope it turns out fine 😭

SUNDAY

he usually expresses his affection in more subtle ways, no outward physical touch or pda

but there are moments when the aggression completely consumes him

you can tell he wants to touch you, or at the least do something to release the tension in his heart

but knowing sunday, he would never voice his desires out loud in fear of making you uncomfortable, so he just sits there, trying to keep his hands to himself

you have to admit, he looks so cute when he’s internally squealing over your cuteness like some teenage girl

often, you would give him the push he needs, encouraging him to show his affection to you as he pleases

and he takes the chance, despite still being shy

“you should try some, it’s really good!” you point to the mochi laid out on the table. after another one of the astral express’ expeditions, march 7th had brought back some desserts for the crew to share. you’re sitting across sunday, enjoying the delicacies after a fulfilling lunch.

sunday nods, moving his fork to prod at the food. but his gaze is zoned in on your cheeks that are currently stuffed due to your lack of self control when it came to sweets. you notice his fingers tighten on the end of the utensil as he bites his lips, as if he was trying to hold himself back.

“if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just asked, y’know?” you say.

“n-no, it’s okay—” sunday stutters, flustered having been caught red-handed.

“i insist,” you lean across the table, offering your round cheeks to him.

your boyfriend sighs as he puts the fork down. his hand hesitates mid-air for a split second before he cups the side of your face. his fingers give your face a light squeeze before he admits, “you’re very adorable, (name).”

you smile dreamily and nuzzle your face deeper into his hand, satisfied at the affection your lover is showering you with.

PHAINON

he already has cuteness aggression towards you on a daily basis

he practically kisses every single part of your face every morning without fail. it’s become a routine at this point

fun fact : his favorite thing to do is squish your cheeks together and kiss your puckered lips

phainon usually has some degree of self control and keeps his aggression mild

but when you act particularly adorable, things get a bit…intense

you’ve witnessed him have to stop himself by screaming into his fist and physically suppress his desire

sometimes he fully loses control and takes ACTION. the furthest he’s gone is biting you either on your cheeks or a part of your hand

yes, he’s absolutely SHAMELESS

he doesn’t know why, the feeling just overtakes him and he can’t stop when it comes to you, even in public (run.)

“…what are you doing?” you ask. phainon stays silent next to you, his eyes zoning in on the cute jewelry you sported on your hand. the jewelry the he gifted you. “hello? earth to phainon??” you wave a hand in front of his face but it was no use.

“so pretty…” he murmurs, entranced by the shiny silver and gold. phainon intertwines your fingers with his and squeezes (affectionately).

“babe, stop,” you hiss, trying to pull your hand away from his grasp.

he pulls it right back, gently kissing your knuckles. his kisses move up your body, to your neck, then face. “muah!” he smooches your cheeks dramatically, leaning in subtly again before biting you.

“phainon,” you gasp turning to him in disbelief, “we’re in public!”

“so?” he drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

you can only sigh, letting him do as he wishes. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his display of affection, even when it can get embarrassing at times. and who are you to stop his advances anyway?

MYDEI

despite being aggressive on the front lines, mydei is gentle when it comes to you

he’s known the battlefield all his life, so mydei’s still pretty hesitant when it comes to physical affection

that doesn’t make him immune to cuteness aggression though ❤️‍🔥

it’s a brand new feeling for him—feeling aggression not with malice but with love instead

at first, he physically restrains himself because he’s afraid he might hurt you (he could never tho) and resorts to straying away from physical touch altogether

you watch him with a look of concern when he sits as still as stone and reassure him : “mydei, you can squeeze me i won’t die i promise!!”

you take his arms and wrap them around your body, squeezing yourself, “see? im fine!”

when he finally realizes he can touch you as he pleases without hurting you, all hell breaks loose

you two are lazing on the couch, ready to take an afternoon nap after another tiring fight against the black tide. mydei has you seated on his lap as he observes your sleepy face. he thinks you look cute like this, getting comfortable in his arms. your boyfriend slowly wraps his arms around you, drawing circles on your hips before squeezing your waist tightly.

“i can’t breathe!” you cough, trying to squirm out of his grasp. he loosens his grip on your waist, yet his hands never leave your body.

“just a little longer,” mydei settles his face onto your shoulder, placing gentle kisses on your skin. you relax after a while after he makes no other attempt to cut off your airway. and just when you feel like dozing off in the warmth of your lover, he bites you.

“OW!” you exclaim, shoving his face away. mydei remains nonchalant as though nothing happened when you turn to glare at him. the moment you turn away though, the tiniest smirk appears on his face.

he’s prepared to bite you again.

AVENTURINE

aventurine definitely loves physical touch, but he only showers you with affection in private

his touches are usually gentle and soothing, with the purpose of finding comfort in you after a long day at work

it’s rare for him to feel cuteness aggression, but when it happens, it unleashes something inside him he didn’t know existed

he’ll shyly squeeze you by the waist and kiss you just a bit more dramatically (with the muah! and all)

when you catch his actions and tease him for it, he suddenly gets shy and hides his face in your neck

“you can keep going, i don’t mind”

“hmmm i don’t know what you’re talking about”

once he gets more comfortable with these feelings, his sly nature comes out when you let your guard down

he usually takes the opportunity to rush in and tickle you, tackling you and trapping you between his arms

“stop it!!” you laugh uncontrollably as aventurine tickles your weak spots. your boyfriend has you trapped on the couch under him. “hmmm stop what exactly?” aventurine feigns innocence as he continues his actions.

“let go!” you squirm, holding onto his arms in an attempt to stop him. aventurine halts his tickles yet his warm hands still remain on your skin. “but you look so cute,” he gushes affectionately as he squeezes your waist. the blond flops his entire body onto yours, nearly suffocating you with his weight.

aventurine had spotted pictures of you and him doing cute poses stuck on the fridge when he came home from work. seeing you with your cheeks puffed out and lips smiling definitely awakened something in him.

“get off meee,” you whine. “noo, let’s stay like this for a bit” he nuzzles himself into your neck. and just when aventurine was about to fall asleep on top of you, you grab his waist and flip him over, smiling cheekily when he opens his eyes in surprise. your boyfriend is about to get a taste of his own medicine.

ANAXA

to be honest, no one knew that anaxa was even capable of cuteness aggression, not even anaxa himself

anaxa knows he loves you, but physical touch was never a major thing for him. he just wanted your company, and that was it. or so the thought

the first few times he feels cuteness aggression, anaxa thought there was something was wrong with him, either mentally or physically. but the feeling keeps coming back and so he has to experiment

at first, he tries all sorts of remedies to get rid of such feelings : drowning himself in research, teaching more classes, getting in even more debates (arguments)

but none of it worked, and anaxa realizes that he wasn’t feeling angry, he was feeling affection

and well, there’s no other way to relieve that besides…you

he's not very obvious about it when he randomly approaches you and shows physical touch once before walking away as if nothing happened

you’re confused at first but eventually catch on, assuming it's just his strange way of expressing love

and now you just let him do whatever he wants LOL

you’re minding your own business, making anaxa a drink before he has to leave for work this morning. the scholar walks out from your shared bedroom, properly dressed and ready to go. he observes as you hum to yourself in the droma pajamas you stole from him. the outfit looks adorable on you and anaxa senses the strange feeling in his heart again.

so when you finally give him the drink, your lover ignores your outstretched hand and instead pulls on your cheeks. hard. you’re stunned into silence staring at him as if he’d committed some kind of offense.

“what was that?” you ask after a long pause. the professor ignores you, plucking the drink out of your grasp as his feet quickly stride towards the doorway. “hey! you can’t just do that and walk away—” the door slams shut as he walks out.

you’re frozen in place, mouth agape at his sudden gesture of affection(??).

the audacity of this man.

masterlist

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nilanyag · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 !

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — bsd men and their favourite part of you

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut and fluff

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai, ranpo, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, fyodor, nikolai, sigma x reader

𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 loves your thighs. he loves to lay his head on them and rest, drowning himself in your soft skin, away from kunikida's screams and his piling work. they are his comfort, sometimes he catches himself squeezing them when he's thinking of a new plan or contemplating his existence. he likes the feeling of your clothed thigh, and how you shake his hands away when he does it in the middle of an important meeting. but dazai is dazai, and he reminds you of that by burying his face in between your thighs for two hours straight. poor you.

𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗣𝗢 likes to slide his fingers along the curvature of your waist in his pastime. it feels awfully nice to grab you by it when you're least expecting it, and even nicer to hike your shirt higher when you're not looking. ranpo is usually an unimpressed man because he correctly guesses his way out of everything, but his pupils dilate whenever you wear tops that show your waist. it's as if you're asking him to kiss you all over the magnificent curve. keep going and he might reward you with it :)

𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗜𝗗𝗔 has been in a dilemma for long. although his ideals called for liking conventional body parts in his lover like the eyes or the lips, he is very much inclined towards the movement of your hands. just watching your fingers flex around your pen while you filled in paperwork, or the back of your hand resting on your table lazily leaves him stiff in his seat. he can't keep his eyes off your fancy nails, and he likes to pepper kisses around your knuckles when the two of you are alone.

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 thinks he can spend eternity staring at your ass. it's perfect from all angles, and even better to touch. the way his fingers dig into the plush skin make his throat go dry, and he wishes nothing more than to eat you out every single time he catches sight of your butt. he's not the best at controlling himself, but sometimes circumstances force him to, such as in battles, when you're fighting an enemy, chuuya decides to take a break and check out your ass for a few moments for good luck.

𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗪𝗔 fell for you the hardest when he saw the love you held for him in your eyes. they are of the prettiest shade, he thinks. he stares into your eyes whenever you're alone, they bring tranquility to him. he feels he can be lost in them forever. there's something about watching them scrunch up when you laugh, or roll back when he's rutting into you. akutagawa likes that he can tell how you feel just by looking into your eyes. he believes it enhances trust in your relationship.

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 won't admit it, but all he ever wants to do to you in his free time is mark your neck. he's a busy man, and it's not always you two end up in bed, so nipping at your neck is one of the few things that seems as intimate to him. he loves it when you recoil under his kisses, and he loves it even more when you have to walk around with the bruises he made because you were unable to hide them. fyodor might have been a vampire in one of his lives, but you're not complaining, are you?

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 buries his face into your boobs at every chance he gets. he enjoys watching your nipples harden at the slightest provocation, and he gets off watching your boobs bounce when he shakes his head into your chest. he always gives you back hugs and leaves his hands suspiciously close to them. nikolai likes to squeeze your boob and pinch your bud, cackling at the frown on your face and kissing it. he has a hand on your chest even in non-sexual moments. the feeling of your skin so vulnerable under his touch makes him high.

𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 thought he was in heaven when he kissed you for the time. the taste of your lips was a luxury to him, and he might have melted had you not held onto him so tightly. he wants to cherish that feeling forever, so he always gives you kisses and quick pecks whenever you're nearby. when he's stressed, he gives you a long kiss to ease it and forget. when you're stressed, he coddles you and gives you small kisses. your lips have become comfort to him. he thinks it will be nice if you were his last kiss too, just as you were his first.

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nilanyag · 2 days ago

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thinking abt bsd men after u leave a lipstick mark on their faceedd

this is an ages old ask but it really struck me today… anon you’re so right….

I know CHUUYA buys you the most expensive lipstick. He knows you don’t mind a decent drugstore lip if it means he doesn’t have to break the bank, but sometimes he can’t help himself—he loves to spoil you. He loves an autumny shade on you, one that almost matches his hair, but his favorite is that rich garnet Guerlain Rouge G, and he wears your $80 lipstick kisses all day like badges of honor. (He might even hairspray it a little so it doesn't sweat or rub off.) The last thing an enemy will see before Chuuya empties a clip in their skull is the deep red kiss mark you left on his jaw that morning before work <3

ANGO is not a shallow man, but I think he loves the old-money feel of having your lipstick marks all over him, especially near the corners of his mouth. Another one who won't hesitate to open up his wallet, I can see him seeking out velvety vintage lipsticks for you to smudge all over his shirt collar. He does hope that the pigment distracts from the blush dusting his face, though—no matter how many times you stain his pretty face, and no matter how hardnened of a gangster he is, he still gets all giddy and hot when you shower him in such affection. Might have to pull you into the nearest bathroom to see where the color looks stained elsewhere. . .

Your ever-enthusiastic NIKOLAI already thinks of your kisses as rewards, but this—oh, god, seeing the true red creme lipstick, the one you let him pick out, decorating the corners of his cheeks makes him absolutely glow. The gentle dot where you pecked the tip of his nose matches his aesthetic so well; he thinks he should go out like this all the time, you should do this every day, and he'll beg you for more, more lipstick kisses! Until you can hardly see an inch of his pale skin from the neck up. You'll just have to move to his hands next! It might look ridiculous, but he never feels more beautiful. How wonderful it is, he thinks, to be adored by you.

Now, BEASTZAI and his mental gymnastics. . .he'll flip the script in his mind and puff himself up with the notion that your lipstick kiss on his cheek is somehow another token of his ownership over you. After all, you're the only one he'd ever, ever, in a million years, allow close enough to his person to leave such a mark. He'll protest emptily about how it'll diminish his prestige in front of his subordinates, but it's not like they don't already know he's just as whipped for you as you are for him—and he knows this too deep down, so he won't move to wipe it off. In fact, he finds himself going out of his way to preserve it all day until evening when he's home and you can cover him in the other kind of kiss mark <3

And finally, I think canon timeline DAZAI would eat it up for the purest reasons of any of these men. Of course he'll tease you about it, lecture you playfully about how insatiable you are—you just have to let everyone know he's yours, huh? But, really, when he shuffles off to the bathroom and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror with your tender kiss preserved on the arch of his cheekbone, tears threaten his lashline. He can't pull his eyes away from it. He won't cry, he can't fuck it up—but he lets his fingers hover over it, amazed at such concrete evidence of your love for him. He tries not to think about it too hard while he barges back out into the office where you've brought him lunch, half-singing, half-begging for more lipstick kisses on the beautiful face of your beloved boyfriend, please!

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nilanyag · 3 days ago

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▵▿— Hold Me Close

— Jing Yuan, Boothill, Gepard, Sunday, Phainon, Mydei, Anaxa, Jiaoqiu x gn!reader

Category: Actually tooth rotting fluff

Synopsis: what is it like cuddling them?

CW: none :D

A/N: when u don’t know which one character to write for... also pls let me know if past or present tense would work better for drabbles like these I genuinely don’t know AAAA

JING YUAN —▵▿

Be prepared to not be able to breathe for the next few hours.

The Luofu General would lay on top of you, with all the weight and muscles he had, cling onto you like a massive cat. How could he not? You were just so comfortable, a perfect mattress for his afternoon nap.

“Jing Yuan- darling you’re crushing me…”

The man would only hum in response as he shifted on top of you to get a bit more comfortable, pressing the last puff of air from your lungs as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His arms looped around your waist as if you’re a pillow. No matter how many times you tried to peel yourself away from him, it was futile.

“Just let me sleep…” He murmured. His voice was deep and gravelly.

You look down to see the man peacefully asleep. His lashes fluttered against his cheek. It was just part of his charm to be able to have you give in to him so easily. You could only sigh in defeat before bringing your hand up to comb through the General’s wild silvery mane, eliciting another content hum from him.

BOOTHILL —▵▿

Despite being 90% metal, the cowboy was oddly comfortable to cuddle with. Boothill enjoyed having you lay on his chest as he gently combed his metal fingers through your hair. One of the best parts about cuddling with you was being about to yap just about anything with you. What he did on the day… how fun it was to gun down IPC guards… how that secret stash of bullets in his pocket always tasted better with you on his mind.

Boothill loved nuzzling his face against you. It was the one way he could feel you, your body heat, and the smoothness of your skin. Somehow, it all made him feel so human.

“Darlin’… yer’s so soft. Wish I could feel ya all over.”

Often times, Boothill would nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and kiss all the skin he could come in contact with before parting his lips and just gently bite on your skin with his teeth. Nothing sexual, he just wanted to feel and taste you. You were the one who made him feel whole, after all.

GEPARD —▵▿

Great at cuddling, especially after one long, tiring day of work.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards would just haphazardly remove his armour, not even bothering to change out of his uniform before flopping into bed and cuddling you. With his face buried in your chest and arms wrapped around your waist, the man was finally able to let himself relax in your embrace.

Stroke his hair, pepper him with kisses, whisper sweet nothings to his ear, he’d let you do anything to him while cuddling. No words were needed to be exchanged either. He loved the peaceful silence shared between the two of you. But of course, if you wanted to talk, he would listen. If you asked him how his day went, Gepard would undoubtedly share all the wonderful and not so wonderful things with you.

SUNDAY —▵▿

Although being together for so long, Sunday still couldn’t help but feel flustered and giddy all over whenever receiving attention form you. Cuddling wasn’t an exception.

Sunday would be blushing and everything as you hold him close. His legs were tangled with yours and his face was buried in your chest as you idly groomed his wings. He could feel your fingers gingerly fixing every individual feather. He couldn’t help but let it flinch in your hands, and every time it did, he could hear you snicker softly. It was such a lovely melody, he would listen to your laugh for the rest of his life.

You would sometimes tease him for his adorable blush while you were cuddling, peppering his cheeks and making his cheeks heat up even more until the Oak Family head was all putty in your arms.

“Must you tease me so much? Ah… dear, please, this is so humiliating…”

PHAINON —▵▿

Phainon patiently waited for you on the bed. His armour was already removed. Upon seeing you enter the bedroom, he outstretched his arms, an adorably wide smile hung on his face as he gave you the puppy eyes.

“Cuddle?”

You swore he was going to be the death of your poor heart.

The moment you get into bed, he would cling onto your waist and bury his face in your stomach. You didn’t even get the chance to properly lay down yet and the man would be shamelessly attached to you, molding his body with yours. The feeling of you against him was everything that he could ask for.

The cheeky man would sometimes tease you out of nowhere, pinching your side or tickling you, just to make you flinch and giggle. You weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. A cuddle session would all of a sudden turn into the two of you rolling around the bed, trying to tickle the living daylights out of one another.

By the time you two laid panting, Phainon would pull you close and bury his face at the crook of your neck before finally letting you fall asleep.

MYDEI—▵▿

Mydei was perfect to lay on top of. His body was broad and warm, your perfect heater. Not to mention, he would let you rest your head against his ‘pillows’ (ahem ahem).

Mydei gently traced random shapes on your back as he felt your chest rise and fall against him with every breath you took. The feeling grounded him. It reminded him of your comforting presence. Mydei let you trace his red markings as you cuddled. Your feather-light touch would send tingles down his spine.

You would sometimes prop you chin in your palm as you silently admire the Kremnoan prince. Your gaze would trace every feature of his handsome face, a smile gracing your lips, until Mydei adverted his gaze to hide his blushing cheeks.

“HKS…” He mumbled.

You could only giggle at his reaction before leaning down to pepper kisses all over his face.

ANAXA —▵▿

Anaxa was never the first to cuddle you, but he would always wait for you.

The moment he felt the mattress dip and your arms wrap around him, he would put away the scroll he had been reading and reciprocate, slipping his arms around your torso, letting you tangle your legs with his, and bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Anaxa lived for the feeling of your hands gingerly combing through his hair. It calmed him from one long day of dealing with his annoying students. The professor would rant on about his new theories, or how his students wouldn’t stop calling him atrociously ridiculous names.

“’Prof ‘Nax?’ Tsk. The sheer audacity of those children.”

Anaxa could feel your chest moving against his as you laughed, and he hugged you closer. The feeling of you by his side grounded him. He let his eyes droop as he relaxed against you. You were his solace, his sanctuary, the only deity he would devote himself to.

JIAOQIU —▵▿

The purpose of a fox’s tail was to keep itself warm. Jiaoqiu’s tail was for letting you hug like a pillow. He didn’t mind as long as he could feel your warmth around him. The two of you would lay side by side, you back against his front and his tail could curl to the front of you for you to hold.

Jiaoqiu wrapped his arms securely around your torso. He tended to slip his hands beneath your clothes to gently trace your skin as you cuddled. He loved how you soft you felt, and he’ll be damned if he wasn’t able to feel you for even a second. He would trace invisible shapes and rub gentle circles on your stomach or waist, or gently massage the muscles of your body.

“Your muscles are too tense… may I help you, my dear?”

The foxian would brush your hair to the side and litter your neck and nape with tender kisses and teasing bites, leaving little red marks over your skin. Every sensation of his lips and fangs on your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Jiaoqiu… people are gonna see those marks…”

“Hmm…? Was that not the idea?”

OH GOD MY HANDS

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nilanyag · 3 days ago

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WHAT THEY LOVE DOING WITH/TO YOU ft. love and deepspace

as the title says — sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, caleb x fem!reader

notes: very fluffy, no stressy, no cws just love and affection, slightly suggestive in sylus's part

a/n: yup, another comforting piece. at first i only thought of writing xavier's part, but then it just came to me... i can write FIVE. so uh, enjoy <3. wc: 900 . rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

if xavier could, he’d live with his head on your lap.

yes, exactly. especially after coming back home from being outside all day, your lap is his safe haven.

and you, you love seeing his tired form appear through the door, as he walks groggily towards you, flashing you a sheepish smile.

“how was your day baby?” you ask him, while he plops down on the sofa right next to you.

“‘twas good,” he answers simply, pecking your lips before laying down, his head resting on your lap.

you then start stroking his hair, gently, then hear soft snores coming from him. you love seeing his relaxed features and gentle sleeping face, you wish he could rest more.

sometimes as he’s resting on your lap, his arms would wrap around your abdomen, to bring you even closer, occasionally tickling you when he’s still awake, before slowly drifting to a peaceful sleep, your slow hums lulling him until his consciousness fades.

zayne holds your hand at any given chance. if he could, your fingers would stay entangled to his, forever.

yes, it’s that serious.

especially whenever the two of you go on walks, his hand will never leave yours, unless you’re the first to let go.

“wait zayne, i dropped my tissues,” you say while your hand momentarily leaves his.

those three seconds are for zayne like an eternity.

he doesn’t like how something feels amiss right away, but the emptiness is filled right away when your fingers find his again.

zayne loves your hands, the warmth of them, and just smothering the back with kisses, slowly and gently, all without averting his haze from yours.

and the simple hand holding escalates quickly into something more.

zayne peppers your hand in kisses, then your wrist, then your arm all the way up to your neck and chin. then, he presses gentle kisses against your lips.

most of the time, the two of you end up going further and further, craving each other like you are the missing part he needs, and vice versa. oh, and of course his hold on your hand is still safely tight.

it is now an essential activity in sylus’s life to lay in bed next to you and rest his face against your chest, his head cushioned by the softness of your breasts and lulled by your calm heartbeat.

yes, sylus couldn’t ask for more. if he could, he’d never leave that position.

you often remind him to let you breathe for a couple of minutes, but after that, he’s back at it again.

“you knew what you were getting into when you accepted to be with me, sweetie,” he teases you, pushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear while looking at you, amused, as you slap back his hand, offended.

“the girls didn’t sign up to be pillows though,” you mutter, looking elsewhere. and sylus would just chuckle, closing his eyes while feeling your skin under his palm.

“sylus where are you touching!?” you yell startled, but he just ignores you, and keeps doing what he wants.

“i’m putting the girls to good use since they refuse to be just ‘pillows’, clearly,” and you just can’t stop him, no matter what. not that you mind, you’ll just see it as a free massage.

caleb is constantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sometimes both of them, while peppering kisses at your nape and neck. causing you to shiver as you gently attempt to move away.

yes, he loves having you in his arms, only then he’ll be 100% sure you are safe.

sometimes, he’d even bear-hug you while you’re laying down and just fall asleep in that position, causing you to giggle at his childishness.

“c’mon caleb, you’re pressing my rib,” you try to reason with him, but he’d just muffle some inaudible words and get back at snoring.

so, you resort to tickling his sides so that his strong hold mellows, and you just move his arm, feeling his strong bicep under your fingertips.

“please, just a bit more,” he groans and proceeds to hold you even closer.

well, the battle was already lost at the start.

you just leave him be and stay there, cradled by the big bear that is your boyfriend.

what rafayel enjoys most is pressing his hands against your cheeks and just causing your expression to scrunch, only to laugh at your funny look as your eyes shoot him daggers.

besides being a prankster, his hands cup your cheeks every time the two of you are kissing.

he believes it brings you even closer than you are.

sometimes, it just starts as something innocent.

his firm and focused gaze is locked into your eyes as he rests both hands at the sides of your cheeks, feeling the softness of your skin, as he causes you to look funny, yet again.

“rafahyl s-shtop…” you try to say while clutching his fingers

then, his eyes drop down, at your puckered lips and he just can’t stop himself from leaving a peck. then another one. then another.

until the two of you are slowly making out, his tongue swirling in search of yours while his hands gently bring your face closer.

“oh you’re so done,” and you start running around as he flees from you, noticing how enraged you are but still giggling like a five-year old boy.

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nilanyag · 3 days ago

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Ayato loves being doted on. Where he can come home to you after a long day of work and shed his clothes in your presence, having you hold him and praise him for doing such a good job today. The best feeling in the world is your gentle hands holding his face, tracing his features. On particularly stressful nights, he’ll bite at the fat of your palm, his eyes trained on your face as he responds to your tender caress with his teeth. Ayato definitely suffers from the love biting urges, you see the evidence of this as he practically gnaws on your thumb. When you take your hand away to smooth the hair out of his eyes, he relents, his face resting as he feels the care in your touch.

“You want a bath?” You ask him, pushing his hair away from his forehead. Even such a casual bit of skin feels so special to see when it’s him. So covered and prim and proper, always careful to keep modest. Even if there is no immodesty in a bare forehead, he looks much cuter like this. You take the ribbon wrapped around from your wrist (for just in case scenarios) and tie his bangs up for your own enjoyment. He lets you.

In the bath, he’s already lounging in the tub, his knees poking out from the water, his cheeks and forehead flushed pink from the warm water. When you step in, he guides you to sit on his lap, pulling you to lay against him, cherishing the weight of you against his chest. All he wants in these moments is to hold and be held. To remember that he is more than just a machine for the Yashiro Commission, he’s Kamisato Ayato, a beloved brother, friend, and your lover. He’ll brush the hair from your face so he can rest his bare forehead against yours again and it’ll take no time at all before he falls asleep like that, leaving you to finish washing him up before you both get pruny and shake him lucid enough to stand up and walk to bed. Whether he puts on clothes or not depends on whether you’re able to put them on him. Usually he’ll wake up during the process and whine at you, insisting he doesn’t need clothes, just you. And so you’ll lay down and sleep through the night.

Yes, the Commissioner has his sadistic tendencies, but at the end of the day, he’s just tired. Sometimes, even the most wicked under the roof of the Kamisato Estate have their soft days.

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nilanyag · 3 days ago

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something about evenings with ayato. the evening is deep violet and the spring breeze is the only sound. he stands in the doorway to the kamisato estate, partially blocking your way back in.

he isn’t preventing you — not really. his yukata is looser than it is during the day, his lavender eyes hazier from the drink in his hand. when he leans his arm on the door above your head, the sleeve slides down his shoulder somewhat.

“commissioner —”

“ayato,” he corrects.

he smiles slowly, sensually, and you focus on his mouth. the saké on his breath. the beauty mark just under the curve of his lower lip.

“ayato,” you try again, “please let me in.”

“am I in the way?”

he is. it seems foolish to acknowledge that, though. his eyes twinkle slyly when you don’t take the bait. he starts to lean toward you and you reflexively close your eyes, overwhelmed by the scent of liquor and violets and —

thoma’s voice calls from within the house. muffled as he seeks his missing lord, whose game of cat-and-mouse ends prematurely. ayato sighs, but looks no less amused.

he gives you one last look before he turns away. “join me for a drink tomorrow night, too, won’t you, darling? I’ll be waiting.”

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nilanyag · 3 days ago

Note

river what are your thoughts on husband ayato guiding you through giving him a blowjob for the first time… 🎤

me and my (darling) husband — ft. kamisato ayato

ayato is happy to show you how to please him. you are happy to take care of your darling husband. the gods themselves are not powerful enough to come between you both and your desires

before you read: 2.4k words of pure cock sucking i’m sorry ; fem wife reader ; obsessive, morally gray husband ayato ; slight, slight corruption kink in you squint ; blow jobs ; reader doesn’t have a gag reflex in this ; teasing ; praise ; orgasm delay ; cock worship ; throat fucking ; cum eating ; reader straddles his waist ; implied vaginal sex at the end

notes: risu this ask sent me into cardiac arrest. i would say i need to lay down but i have been laying down since i read this ask (help ive fallen and i cant get up)

Sometimes Ayato wonders if you want to kill him. It wouldn’t be the first assassination attempt he’s faced—but it would be the hardest to escape. He could never deny you of anything.

“Teach me how to please you,” you pout, “just like you always do me. It’s only fair, wouldn’t you agree?”

You’re inexperienced. Innocent. Ayato likes tainting that sense of purity about you—and he’s extra delighted that it means he’s the first one to see you like this.

(He’ll be the only one, actually—he’s not letting you go. Ever. If anyone else were to even think about how you’d look on your knees, knelt between their thighs, he’d slice through their neck with his own blade.)

But you look so beautiful like this, it’s unearthly. His cock is thick, erect between his bare thighs as they spread enough to allow you a space between them. You gently trace along the vein at the underside, curious from seeing it so up close for the first time. You’ve seen him before, of course, but never near enough to properly appreciate the details.

The hair he trims neatly. The mole he has at his v-line. The slight curve to the left of his girth. The way he twitches from any delicate touch on reflex.

That last part is your favorite—you trace a finger around his tip, circling it in awe as he lets out a soft gasp. The way his cock jumps at the touch makes you eye him hungrily.

“Teasing, are we, my love?” He drawls through grit teeth, holding himself back from burying the aching length down your throat, “do you wish to torture your poor husband?”

“No,” you breathe, giggling as you press a sweet kiss to the tip, “of course not. Just…show me how, Ayato.”

You’ve never done this before. Ayato is fine with being the one busy buried between the other’s legs. He doesn’t mind being the one to taste the sweet, dripping proof of pleasure lingering at the apex of your thighs. But if you insist that you’d like to switch places for once…well, he can’t lie and say he hasn’t pictured your beautiful lips struggling to take all of him.

With a gentle hand cupping the back of your head, he pulls you closer, closer, closer—until the head of his cock is tapping against your lips.

“Open, my love,” he whispers—you do. Instantly, your tongue darts out, swirling around his tip and licking a stripe along his slit. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as he tenses.

“Sensitive?” You hum, teasingly.

“Is that a surprise?” He grins down at you, sweat collecting at his forehead as his skin flushes, “have I not always shown I am far too sensitive to my wife’s touches?”

“I suppose that’s true,” you bite back a smile.

Slowly, you part your lips and take him in, staring up at him for his reactions, as if trying to see if you’re doing things right. He groans at the wetness of your mouth surrounding him, head falling back as he grips the sheets tightly with tense fists.

“That’s it, darling,” he says, voice a strained choke as he guides you down his length, “hollow your cheeks. I’m…I’m more sensitive here—pay close attention there, won’t you?”

He guides you his cock, stopping you just at his tip. You suck around him, swirling your tongue again as he lets out a loud moan and shudders under your hand as it rubs his thigh soothingly.

“Like that?” You pop off, blinking up at him with innocent eyes—they’re anything but innocent. There’s an amused twinkle in them at the way he barely bites back a whimper at the loss of you.

“Evil,” he huffs, “you’re most evil, dear wife.”

“I’m only trying to make you feel good, my darling husband,” you gasp. Your hand trails up his thigh to his taut abs, rubbing more soothing circles into the skin as you eye the moles that little his skin. “Did it feel good, Ayato?”

“Yes,” he nods, swallowing thickly.

“Did I do well?” You press, eyes hopeful.

He groans at that, letting out a shaky breath as he whispers, “you are always perfect, my dear. Unfairly so. Now please, give me more—I want more.”

“Then tell me how you want it,” you rub a thumb over a mole just under his belly button, admiring the flex of his abs as he breathes raggedly. “Surely the Yashiro commissioner is an effective communicator.”

“Such dedicated efforts to tease me,” he chuckles hoarsely, “very well. I shall indulge my wife in her wicked desires, then. Take me deep, my love, and swallow around my cock until I can spill my release down your throat. Do have mercy on me, will you my darling? I am feeling rather impatient.”

“Anything for my precious husband,” you say sweetly, giving his tip one last kiss, smearing the pre cum against your lips before you take him in your mouth.

Ayato, true to his word, has always shown you how sensitive he is to your touch. Now is no different, his fists fighting their grip around the sheets, knuckles turning a ghostly pale white from the pressure. He moans—it’s a beautiful sound. Low and just a tad bit whiny as your tongue traces his thick vein as he travels down his length.

You manage to take him almost down to the base, refraining from gagging as he hits the back of your throat. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so dizzy with pleasure, the friction of your tongue and the walls of your mouth rubbing against the sensitive skin of his cock.

You bob your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks as you swallow around his tip. Just as he said, he’s sensitive there. Almost too sensitive, whimpering as you tease the tip of your tongue along his slit and taste the beads of pre cum that dribble from the head of his girth.

“Th-that’s it, my love,” he stutters, “fuck, yes—you spoil me with that precious mouth.”

Your hand trails down from his abs, slowly rubbing up and down his inner thigh, still as comforting and grounding as earlier. Ayato has other desires, however—far more insatiable desires as he grabs your hand and laces your fingers for a moment, squeezing slightly around you with a shaky grasp.

“You’d like me to show you what I want, yes?” He looks down at you, eyes hazy and mouth slightly swollen from the way he’s bitten down on the swell of his bottom lip.

You nod around his cock, jaw loose and tongue flat as you bob along his length skillfully. He’s almost scared this isn’t your first time from how good you take him down your throat—but the eager look you give him from his question assures him enough to relax.

“Then here,” he grunts, guiding your hand to his balls as he spreads his legs wider, hand encompassing yours as he murmurs, “be sure not to neglect me here, either.”

You fondle his balls delicately, teasing them with a light tough before you apply more pressure. They’re heavy, aching for your attention, and the gentle way you massage them as you suck around his tip once more pulls a jolt through his entire body. He whines at the feeling—a sweet, melodic sound that makes you fall in love deeper with your husband.

Your needy, filthy husband who adores you so.

You work your mouth along his cock a few more times before you pop off again, earning a whimper he can’t hold back this time as he stares down at you with a crestfallen expression.

He was close. You could tell—whether he’s in your mouth or your cunt, you can always tell when Ayato is just at the precipice of his pleasure. The slight twitch of his girth and the breathiness of his pants as they get more labored will always give him away.

You kiss up the underside of him, from base to tip. “Such a pretty cock,” you marvel, “and it’s all mine, isn’t it?”

“Surely you didn’t stop just to ask something you already know?” He clenches his jaw as the throb between his leg intensifies, the near-orgasm you deny him of serving as a painful reminder of how much power you hold over him.

You continue kissing the expanse of his girth, admiring him as you murmur, “don’t give me that look, you insatiable man. You’ll get what you wish for soon enough.”

“Why must you insist on being so cruel? I am a most doting husband, am I not? Surely I don’t deserve this,” he stares down at you miserably, making you roll your eyes.

“I merely meant to ask you where you’d like to cum, you impatient fool,” you click your teeth. But you love him—so much so, that your fist slowly strokes him so his poor, throbbing length isn’t neglected as his earlier orgasm slowly dies back down. “Down my throat? On my face? Perhaps on my tits? You’ve always paid close attention to those, you know. Anything my darling husband wants, he shall get.”

“Anything?” He hums, shivering as you tighten your fist around the base of his cock before stroking upwards, rolling your palm along the head.

“Anything,” you confirm. “It is my turn to spoil you, my sweet love.”

Ayato is vocal. He is, perhaps, shameless in that regard. When he takes you in the back of the gardens, when he takes you in the shadowy corners of the estate, when he takes you in his office without the door locked, he is vocal. You are usually horrified by it even if a little—not a lot when you’re so drunk on his cock, but still enough to know his voice could raise suspicion from anyone who happens to pass by.

Such a shameful, disgusting act it would be, to be caught by someone. The clan head and his wife, incapable of having any sense of respect and dignity.

But here, in the safety of your chambers, in the private quarters meant for just you and your husband, you appreciate how vocal Ayato is. How utterly sincere he is with letting you hear just how good you make him feel.

The term of endearment on your tongue and the tightened stroke of your fist makes him whimper softly, panting erratically as he murmurs, “your mouth. Your mouth—please, I need to feel your mouth, my love. I’m…I’m close. So close. Let me feel you swallow every drop, please. Please.”

Mercifully, your lips are wrapped around the pulsing length of his erection, taking him down your throat generously once more. A union as sacred as the one of your wedding, as blessed as the day you became his.

Ayato bucks his hips up, fucking into your throat as he finally becomes too impatient to be gentle anymore. You let him. Like a good, doting wife, you slack your jaw and let him use you, hand bracing yourself against his thigh as he chases his orgasm.

“F-fuck, my darling wife,” he curses, “you have no idea. You could not fathom how ardently I desire you. Take me, take every part of me.”

He spills down your throat with one last thrust of his hips, a soft, desperate moan tearing from his lips as he chants your name like a prayer. Ayato does not pray to his own God, the very one he serves every living day. But you—you are the only one who can answer his prayers. Who can bless him with his desires. Who can bring him to his knees and make him a believer of any and all that you say.

It’s why he says your name like that, like he’s calling out to divinity and not his wife who’s sat between his legs, swallowing around his cock as though it’s not the unholiest of activities. You make even sin feel holy. Blessed. Divine.

He spills thick, hot ropes of cum. It spills from the corners of your mouth, dribbling along your chin slightly as you try your best to swallow what you can.

“Good,” you hear him pant above you. He looks utterly wrecked. “You…you always feel so good. You have possessed me,” he breathes.

Finally, when the last drops of cum have finished spilling from his twitching cock, he collapses back against the mattress, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

You slowly pull away from his softening length, earning a small sound from him as the cool air hits his wet, spent cock.

“Was it alright?” You ask softly, resting your cheek against his thigh as you rub your hand along the other. He groans faintly, one last shuddering breath before he slowly rises to sit up again.

“Was my performance lacking?” He raises a brow, “did I not make clear enough how blissful your mouth feels?”

You giggle, biting your lip as you murmur, “is it a crime to ask my husband if I please him properly?”

“Of course,” he gasps in mock offense, “it means your husband is not doing his due diligence of praising his wife’s generosity. Shall we try again?”

“You are utterly insatiable, Ayato,” you say in exasperation.

He chuckles. He looks beautiful—sweat clinging to his soft, porcelain skin, eyes crinkled in a warm smile, and a rosy flush that almost urges you to move up to kiss the swells of his cheeks.

“It is only natural, my dear. I hardly believe any man could get enough of such a treasure that is you.”

“We would never know. I have my suspicions that no man would ever survive even thinking about me with you around.”

“A most correct assumption,” he agrees, cupping your cheek, bringing his thumb to collect the sticky, lingering remnants of his release from the corners of your lips before pushing the finger into your mouth.

You swallow around his thumb obediently, humming as you savor the taste of him on your tongue once more.

His expression grows dark. Your core burns with arousal at the sight.

“My darling husband,” you sing sweetly, “I do hope you’re not too exhausted. There is much more I’d like to enjoy with you.”

“Of course not,” he grins, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up to straddle his hips as he lays back once more. You rub your clothed cunt against his once-more growing erection. “I’ve hardly had my way with you yet, sweet wife.”

If it were up to me, I’d stay attached to his dick all day every day. Sucking on that thing would help calm me 🙏

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nilanyag · 5 days ago

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desperate kisser rafayel

intertidal zone rafayel im dizzy

theres nothing in this world he loves more than to simply kiss you. that motor mouth of his falling silent the moment his lips meet yours, his mind blanking as soon as he tastes your sweet lips, plush and plump—oh, how it drives him wild.

your back against the cold wall, his fingers intertwine with yours, pinning your hand beside your head as he deepens the kiss. the dimly lit room, hot air between each kiss contrasting against the chill room, the only thing he cares about right now is tasting every corner of your lips.

guilty, you’re not one to decline him when hes at this state. all desprate and needy for you as muffled whines threaten to come out. the kiss starting to become open mouthed and sloppy, tounges barely fighting for dominance as you happily let him devour you.

the lewd sounds of your lips meeting only drive his brain to short-circuit even further, his hand releasing yours to caress your cheek as he pushes himself deeper into the kiss.

your hands instinctively wrap around his neck as you give him what he so desperately craves.

“thought you had business to attend?” you tease during the brief moment he pulls away to catch his breath. his fingers hook beneath your jaw, pulling you back in, barely managing to say a word before he's kissing you again.

“mmnha… mdunno-“ he quickly retorts. brain foggy and utterly needy, hardly breaking off the kiss before diving back in

you chuckle, your fingers trailing up to his nape before tugging at his hair, pulling him away from your lips. a string of saliva connects to his glossy lips as he whines, almost letting out a sob at the loss of contact.

“do you like kisses this much?” you say just below a whisper, faces still inches apart, hot breathes between you.

“yes... please” he breathes one last time before his lips crash back into yours.

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nilanyag · 5 days ago

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rafayel is the quiet storm kind of alpha. his scent is cool and grounding with something darker beneath it, like ozone before a lightning strike.

he doesn’t speak often, but when he does, his voice drops when he says your name. like he’s tasting it, claiming it.

has perfect control of his instincts until he doesn’t. he’s hyperaware of you. doesn’t show it, but he catalogs every change in your scent, every tremble, every soft sigh.

if you’re in heat, he knows before you do. and he keeps his distance until you ask.

“say it,” he murmurs, eyes burning. “tell me what you want.”

once you do? he’s on his knees before you like a knight to his queen.

scenting you is almost spiritual for him. slow drags of his nose along your neck. long, reverent exhales. eyes fluttered shut like he’s praying.

“you ground me,” he whispers. “you’re the only thing that ever has.”

never raises his voice, but his possessiveness is deadly calm. if another alpha so much as looks at you wrong, rafayel will pin them down with this certain look in his eyes.

deeply protective, deeply physical. during your heat, his hands never leave your skin. even after knotting you, he keeps a slow rhythm, not for pleasure, but to stay inside you.

“don’t pull away,” he says when you twitch. “let me finish. let me fill you.”

his praise is raw and sparse, but it means everything.

“you were made for me.”

“no one else gets to have you like this.”

“i’ll destroy anything that tries to take you from me.”

aftercare is silent, intense, gentle. he runs you a bath. carries you. feeds you. watches you with an expression so tender it aches.

if you fall asleep still knotted to him, he’ll whisper it then (when he thinks you can’t hear).

“i love you.”

“you’re mine.”

“i won’t survive losing you.”

his first rut with you:

rafayel always thought he’d go through rut alone. sterile. controlled. locked away in a room with nothing but silence and and his paintings.

but then there’s you.

your scent clings to the corners of his world. soft. warm. his. he tries to distance himself as the rut creeps in, but when you press your palms to his chest and whisper, “i want to stay,” something in him fractures.

his knees buckle. his hands shake. for the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to control it. he wants to feel it.

“you don’t understand,” he says through gritted teeth. “i’ve never… i won’t be gentle. not this time.”

but you cup his jaw, scent blooming like a balm. “then don’t be gentle. just be mine.”

and then the storm hits.

rafayel claims you with his whole body, dragging his tongue along your scent gland, kissing you so deeply your breath catches in your throat.

every movement is desperate and slow, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish between his fingers. like he’s trying to memorize you through every thrust, every kiss, every low growl in your ear.

“you make me lose control,” he breathes. “and i don’t care anymore.”

he knots you with a deep, trembling groan, holding you down with shaking hands as your body tightens around him.

and then? he stills. buries his face in your neck and just breathes. like your scent is the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“i wanted my first rut to be forgettable,” he murmurs, voice cracking. “but now… now i’ll never forget it.”

you thread your fingers through his hair and whisper, “good.”

he knots you again, slower this time. this time, it’s not need. it’s worship.

“i’ll never take another omega,” he promises into your skin. “not in this life. not in any.”

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nilanyag · 5 days ago

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caleb isn’t the type of alpha who demands. he asks. soft voice, patient hands, eyes that never leave yours. but his scent? it wraps around you like velvet, thick and grounding, impossible to ignore.

deeply controlled rut cycles. he’s trained to suppress them with medication if needed, but that doesn’t mean the instincts disappear. when he’s around you during your heat, he gets quiet, still, too focused.

“do you need me?” he asks, knuckles brushing your wrist. “you don’t have to say yes. just nod.” you do. every time.

he’s a nurturer at heart. loves scenting you before bed, especially when you’re anxious. presses his face into your neck and murmurs things like:

“i’m here.”

“you’re safe with me.”

“let me carry it for you.”

but there’s possession under that gentleness. he doesn’t want to own you. he wants to devote himself to you, body and soul.

during your heat, he’s focused on your comfort first. pain meds, soft blankets, heated scentscapes, and then, if you want him, he’ll ruin you slowly.

so gentle at first. fingers between your thighs, soft kisses along your scent gland. “tell me if it’s too much,” he says, even as his knot starts to swell.

and when you whimper for him? the control frays. “omega,” he groans, voice breaking. “you feel so—fuck, you’re perfect. you were made for me.”

knots you with careful reverence. murmurs praise as you tremble beneath him. cleans you up gently afterward.

very quiet aftercare. strokes your hair. kisses your forehead. laces your fingers together and holds you tight until you fall asleep knotted to him, safe and claimed.

he doesn’t see rut or heat as shameful. he sees them as intimate and sacred. the most vulnerable, instinctive parts of you being entrusted to him.

and he never, ever forgets what a gift that is.

his first rut with you:

caleb thought he could handle it. he’d prepared, like he always does. meditated, dosed early, made contingency plans. but he didn’t account for you.

your scent was everywhere in his space, lingering on his bed, his clothes, in the air. it curled around his thoughts like smoke, like static.

he didn’t even realize he was going into rut until it was too late. the meds failed. his body burned, his skin itched, and his thoughts all narrowed down to you.

“you shouldn’t be here,” he said when you stepped into the room. but his pupils were already blown, voice thick with strain, jaw locked like he was holding himself back from lunging.

you whispered, “i want to stay.”

he broke.

the moment you moved toward him, caleb caught you in his arms and buried his face in your neck with a low, aching growl. he inhaled like your scent could save him. like he’d die without it.

“omega,” he rasped, voice full of awe and desperation. “you’re really here. you want me?”

the rut took hold then, hot and primal, but even while trembling with need, he was still caleb.

so gentle. so reverent. stripping you slowly, kissing every inch of skin like he was memorizing you. letting you climb into his lap and guide his hands with little whimpers and needy sighs.

“let me take care of you,” he begged, lips trembling against your mating gland. “please. i’ll be good. i’ll make it good for you.”

and god, he did.

every thrust came with soft gasps and low growls, your name whispered over and over like a prayer. he held you tight as his knot swelled, moaning your name like it was the only word he remembered.

“gonna fill you up,” he gasped. “mark you. keep you safe. no one else can have you. not now. not ever.”

but then you cupped his cheek. and his voice softened again. “does it hurt?” he asked, eyes full of worry even as you pulsed around his knot. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you shook your head, smiling through the haze. “you feel perfect.”

and caleb, sweet, kind alpha caleb, broke down. kissed you like it meant everything. like you were the only thing anchoring him through the heat.

when you both finally stilled, tied together and drenched in heat-slick and love, he held you against his chest and whispered, “thank you for trusting me.”

his voice was hoarse, cracked, shaking. “i’ll never forget it.”

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nilanyag · 5 days ago

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is there a place i can go?

꒰ you're so used to hiding when it's hard, and xavier loves you too much to let you go. ꒱

𖥔 ݁ 1.5k. semi-canon. established relationship. depressed/anxious/avoidant reader/mc who's having a hard time with her stress and grief x understanding n tender boyfriend xavier. hurt/comfort. angst. some fluff at the end. ❀ ݁ this is for all my fellow anxious-avoidants trying their best not to let the horrors stop them from being loved.

mdni.

two days ago.

xavier ⋮ 2:01 pm. my bunny is missing. have you seen her?

yesterday.

xavier ⋮ 3:04 pm. pretty eyes. pretty smile. pretty laugh. light of my life. if seen, please give me a call. xavier ⋮ 3:38 pm. i’ve asked all the neighbors and they say they haven’t seen my bunny at all. can you help me find her? i think i’ll be sad if she doesn’t come home to me soon.

today.

xavier ⋮ 3:51 pm. it’s been days since i last saw or talked to you. xavier ⋮ 4:09 pm. i tried coming by your apartment but it seemed like you weren’t there. praying my bunny didn’t leave home for good. xavier ⋮ 4:11 pm. are you okay? i’m worried about you.

it feels like no one loves you, but you know it’s not true.

you don’t understand why you’re like this, why at the foundation of your heart is a hurt little girl shaking in fear and always in a hurry to hide from the world or disprove its intentions. nothing feels as safe as isolation but nothing feels as awful as loneliness. you’re safe from the potentiality of harm but there’s no one to turn to for joy. so you sit and sulk in the security of your separation. your world is filled with empty rooms and stretched sighs. the worst part is that it’s entirely your own fault. it feels like no one loves you. and it’s because you won’t let them even if they do. it’s not xavier’s fault that you’re avoiding him, but it is. this blooming fear and odd sensation of coming loss is all because lately he’s perceiving you all too closely. it’s getting to the point where he’s learning your habits so thoroughly, he’s able to anticipate your needs.

it terrifies you because unearned kindness from a lover or a friend has only ever been followed by some kind of violence. some kind of resounding loss that fills you with emptiness. the image of your grandma and caleb surrounds your mind from all sides; your heart fills itself with grief until it overflows. and now you don’t know if you can trust him. or rather, trust him to love you back and be allowed to stay. so you run. you slink into shadows to avoid the pain of being known ( and it is painful to feel elation you can’t control because one day it’ll reshape itself into a monster of sorrow that swallows you ). but the best and worst thing about xavier is that he doesn’t give up. he’s always been relentless in even his gentle and quiet pursuits. it starts with a soft knocking at your door. you haven’t left your apartment much in days aside to clear your trash and it’s the third time he’s come by. you know it’s him because a creature of habit in his own right, xavier knocks in the same pattern each time he comes. the only difference is the sense of urgency has disappeared. it’s become hesitant, fearful almost. you could probably choke on your guilt if you weren’t so pre-occupied with the tears lodged in your throat. because everything hurts even when it shouldn’t. “baby?” you hear him call from behind the door. you don’t answer but your heart screams inside itself.

i’m here i’m here i’m here! nothing feels good; nothing feels right! i think i need you! please please please!

you lie in bed covering your head with your pillows like a frightened child trying to drown out the sound of a raging storm, pathetic as can be in your desperate need to escape your own desires to be with him. your thoughts are in calamity, trapped somewhere between 'it’s not safe for me like this’ and ‘he’s the only thing that feels safe for me when i’m like this.’ truthfully, all you want is to tell him plainly that you’re struggling with your perception of yourself and him, but you can’t face him right now. not when your heart is up in the air like this, not when your eyes are puffy and red from the nonstop bouts of tears. not when you feel like you don’t deserve it. not when you feel like you haven’t felt enough shame for surviving to experience elation. silence falls but only momentarily before your phone vibrates beside you and the soft knocking continues.

xavier ⋮ 4:49 pm. i know you’re home. either something is wrong and you’re pushing me away or you’re severely injured. xavier ⋮ 4:52 pm. i think it’s the first thing because i saw you sneaking out of the building to take your trash out and you seemed physically well. please. i’m here. xavier ⋮ 5:00 pm. i’ll give you until 5:05 to open up on your own, but if you don’t, i have to come in and check on you okay? i just need to know you’re truly okay. if you need space, i need you to come tell me that please.

it’s a shame you never looked at your messages. maybe it would have been enough to get through to you. maybe his soft reassurance that he knows what’s happening and still wants the best for you would have been enough to drag you out of bed and send your feet padding across the floor in all fairness. but true to your avoidant nature, you keep yourself tucked away. “aha,” you hear his ever-velvet voice suddenly in the center of your room despite not feeling his presence at all. “i think i found my missing bunny.” your heart jolts in your chest, scrambling to clamber up your throat in the form of a relieved sob. your shoulders shake from the strength of it forcing its way out of you. with no hesitation, the addition of xavier’s weight causes your bed to dip as he crawls to be at your side. he doesn’t pull the quilts back or try to coax you out. he just holds you, pulls your blanketed form closer to his own. his arms tighten their hold. “if i had known it was this bad i would have come sooner. i’m sorry.” but you think maybe he shouldn’t be sorry. you should. because you’re the one who sees the world as a threat despite dedicating yourself to saving it. the contradiction of it all leaves you rivaling with a cognitive dissonance that feels impossible to resolve. “it’s not…it’s not you.” your voice cracks even as you whisper. “it’s me. it’s just me. it just…i can’t…all of it…” “shh,” he soothes. “you don’t have to explain yourself. it’s okay. right now, let’s just rest. isn’t that what you need? don’t worry about anything else.” it is. you need rest. comfort. love. the capacity to let yourself experience those things as they’re offered. and xavier. he’ll be there but you know he won’t force you to accept his love. it’ll be up to you to take what you need from him and have the strength to admit when you need even more. sniffling, you slowly poke your head out of your blankets, letting your pillows fall to the side and looking up to finally face him. that’s your act of courage today, to be met with his gentle, welcoming smile and not punish yourself for wanting to keep something close to you, for not wanting it stolen again. he kisses your forehead tenderly. “i knew my bunny would come home. i just had to be patient.” “i’m sorry.” “i’m not in need of apologies at the moment, but i’ll graciously accept approximately three days worth of missing kisses.” in the pale blue of his eyes, there’s not even a drop of malice, resentment, or contempt to be found. if anything, there’s relief and fondness there. the tears well up in your eyes all over again. tentatively, you lean forward and offer his supple lips a ginger kiss. “i really am sorry.” “don’t be. not today. let’s just rest. all the other things can come later. there’s no hurry. i’m here, okay?” and he is. sometimes his patience and grace is a mercy you can’t even offer to yourself. it’s hard to forgive yourself for causing so many problems for others. it’s hard to forgive yourself for even things you can’t control: losing everything you know, everything that was left from losing everything once already. warm tears fall and you don’t try to stop them or shield them from sight. “you are here. aren’t you?” it’s more of a soft reminder for you, for these thoughts that crowd your mind and make you feel like a ghost in your own life: invisible and haunting everything, the source of everyone’s mourning when you go missing inside yourself. xavier nods, leaning his forehead against your own. “and i plan to keep it that way. i want to; i have to. i love you. so…you don’t need to worry about being alone anymore.” it won’t be perfect, but you’ll try your hardest to remember.

479 notes · View notes

nilanyag · 5 days ago

Text

your fragrance

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

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

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.4k (how?????)

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

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your suit! It’ll get wrinkled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And neither are you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when you realize what he meant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Rafayel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Raf-Rafayel,” you gasp out, "I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Need me to carry you baby?”

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

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

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

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

"You love me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"R-Rafayel!”

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

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

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

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