I must formally request nobody ever look at me like this and then ask me for anything. I can't be held responsible for emptying my entire bank account and changing my life because you pouted at me like this.
"Art didn't do anything wrong; he's the good guy." Like, be so fucking for real, I'm going to need you to watch this movie again. Art can be your fav; he can be the character you relate to the most. But please, let's not lie. At the very least, he fucked over his childhood best friend out of jealousy. He saw an opportunity when Tashi got injured, and he took it, the people around him be damned. And I say the least because Art is manipulative throughout the movie. Just because he covers it up with this timid nice guy persona doesn't mean that's not what he was doing. I worry about the fact that people can't seem to enjoy a character unless they try to erase all the wrongdoing of the character.
I feel like it's easy to miss how manipulative Art is because he isn't as aggressive as Tashi or Patrick. He's sneaky and underhanded. Him asking Patrick to lose the Junior Open match for his sick grandma was crazy.
He knew exactly what buttons to push to get Tashi and Patrick to implode, because he knew both of them well enough to know that they're too allergic to mush to be able to disprove him saying they're not serious about each other. It's very tricky business for him to slip in that he's in love with Tashi in that conversation. It was twice as wild for him to say at dinner with Tashi that when he thinks about her injury, he wonders what would have happened if he was the one that got her number.
Another master class on manipulation from Art is the hotel scene, really. He knows full well that the night before a big match after a troubled season is not the time to come to his coach talking about retirement, but he backs her into a corner as his wife on the subject. She appropriately bounces that question back to him, and he alternates pouting and seducing until he gets her to say what he wants to hear in that moment. He wanted her to say their relationship was on the line, so she said it. He also made the purposeful choice of getting her wound up and then making absolutely no effort to satisfy her. Almost like he was trying to give her motivation to booty call Patrick so that he could use his feelings about that (or Patrick's guilt about banging his wife) to win the match.
Aaand finally closing the series, a complete line up of my Rogue Trader CRPG romance cards in the style of Dragon Age: Keep tapestry tiles, with all the romanceable companions! Was really delighted to give it a try making them all in this style ^^
Links to my previous posts: [1/ Yrliet] [2/ Jae] [3/ Marazhai] [4/ Heinrix] [5/ Cassia] [6/ Kibellah]
All of the individual pics here under the cut. A whole bundle for personal use♥ (icons, avatars etc):
When the time is right, and my power is assured, I will slaughter Gortash upon your altar, where I myself hope to die when the world itself is gasping it’s last.
...
Father, you made me to be the last soul alive.
there's just something about mutually assured destruction, you know?
I opened a new procreate canvas to do a silly cute meme redraw and that is not what this is! oops!
I was rewatching Bridgerton and I didn't know that this scene existed. AHHH and Anthony had a scent kink for Kate throughout this season~ very ripe for omegaverse plot line AU
Xavier was your senior at the academy and he helped you a lot while you were still a cadet. Now, you have been assigned in the same police precinct and as Xavier's junior partner. To keep you on your toes, Xavier keeps a scoreboard on the cases you were solving and depending on your performance, you would get a reward or punishment. At first the rewards were something like an extra hour of lunch or the punishments were more duty hours… but something changed and it became a different kind of carrot and stick.
N/A: Originally published in a LAD fan server; and this is unedited and just PWP ish IDK I haven't written anything in 10 years that's not work related so everything is wonky but if you do enjoy this, YAY <3 happy reading. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
You wiped the sweat running down your brows. It was the worst time to go on a patrol with your partner, with the weather has being unusually hot today.
"Damnit; it's only January but the heat is insane!" You complain and unbutton a portion of your uniform, exposing your neck and just a bit of your chest. Relief momentarily washes over you.
In the corner of your eye, you see your partner, Xavier, bringing with him refreshments. Wordlessly, he hands a bottle of soda to you. You put the cool tin on your face and let it dissipate some of the heat.
"Are you okay?"
"No; it's just too hot today to go on a patrol."
"I agree. Should we go to a different area now? Nothing much happens in this neighborhood."
You agree with a nod and follow Xavier. You notice that his uniform was also soaking with sweat; you can faintly make out the muscles of his back and his neck was also turning red, maybe from the heat.
"Let's take a break."
You stopped and took a look at the surroundings. You were at an alley that people rarely pass-by.
"Huh?"
Suddenly Xavier turns at you, his hands clasping at the collar of your uniform.
"You know this is very dangerous, right?" Xavier said, in a raspy voice.
Xavier's pale face was blushing hard. You were centimeters away from each other. You could hear his breathing.
"Are --"
"I am perfectly sane but I think you should be punished for improperly wearing your uniform."
"Excuse me?" You had an incredulous look on your face. "The weather is fucking--"
Before you could finish the sentence, you feel something warm on your lips. Xavier closed the distance between you. You taste something sweet and sour -- two different soda flavors in your mouth. This wasn't the punishment you thought he would be giving.
"Hah, hah," Xavier breaks the kiss and slowly, goes to your neck, you feel ticklish at his breath. He then nibbles on your collarbone. You whimpered when his nibbling became more forceful, as if he wanted to peel the flesh of your neck.
You were sure that this would leave a mark.
"Now you won't be carelessly showing your neck," Xavier said, slightly grinning, after he was done with his handiwork. He also blew on it, as if wishing the pain to go away.
"Let's go back now," He devilishly smiles at you. But you wouldn't allow it to end like this. You were wanting with need. You needed him.
You grabbed his hand, tightly, and lead him to an abandoned building.
#
Xavier remains silent as you opened the fire exit of the building.
Without as much as a warning, you pushed him to the wall, kissed him deep, exploring his mouth. When you ran out of breath, you slightly moved away, taking shallow breaths while your hands then went to his torso.Your fingers trailed slowly on his abs until you were finally on his belt. He allowed you, without any resistance, to slowly unclasp his belt.
Your movements were deliberately slow. You could feel his cock tenting on his pants. This was your vengeance for earlier.
Xavier's breathing was now more uneven than earlier. You could feel his heartbeat going faster. You could not find any trace of the calm exterior that he usually had. His eyes were clouded with desire and greed. He was having none of your teasing.
In one swift motion, he has pinned you on the floor. Dust then swirled around you both. Xavier coughed a bit and you chuckled. This calculating man miscalculated that he would be inhaling dust. You smiled and admired the man who was above you.
"I did say that you always have permission to touch me but--"
He lowered himself to kiss you again while grinding his hips on top of you. You moaned. You didn't care if your voice echoed.
Xavier was always good with what he does to you.
He then took your hand and guided it to his pants and you then slip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.
"Ah!" You gasped when you feel the heat of his cock. Your fingers curl around it, giving it a light squeeze.
Xavier exhaled into your ear.
"Tighter," he begs you as he moves again to your neck, nibbling the other side.
You curled your fingers more, strenghtening your grip, then continued to stroke him, up and down, and his precum started dripping. You also feel your panties getting wet and your pussy was clenching. You wanted Xavier inside of you. Now.
In the distance, both of you hear some noise. It pulled you both back to reality.
"Xavier, we--"
"Shh," He whispers into your ear. "If you stay still, they won't know we are here."
The minutes that ticked felt like an eternity. Neither of you moved; you remain pinned underneath Xavier while he buried himself on your neck.
"I think they're gone," Xavier says after a while and then started to unbutton your uniform.
You were getting impatient; so you directed Xavier to help you with your pants and you were now in a state of undress. Xavier had deft fingers and easily unbuttoned his uniform and he has now fully removed his pants.
His head then went between your legs, he savored every bit of juice that was leaking from you.
"Fuck."
Your hand fisted so much of his hair.
Xavier licked your clit, you were on edge. You felt yourself almost coming but he didn't allow you.
"Not yet," Xavier said, holding his own cock and teased it on your entrance.
The sound of your breaths filled the silence between you.
You lifted your hips, urging him to enter you.
"Xavier," your voice filled with desperation. "Please."
Xavier smiled. That damned smile.
He then buried himself into you, he thrusted so deep into you. You could feel his every movement.
Xavier then kissed you before he went to your breasts, cupping one while sucking your other nipple.
"AH!" You moaned louder. The stimulation was too much. You knew that you couldn't hold your climax anymore.
With one last thrust, Xavier came inside you, and you welcomed every drop of it. You could feel the walls of your pussy tightening around his cock.
Xavier blew into your ear before he took out his cock.
"Next time, please don't unbutton your uniform when you are on duty." He smiled at you while saying the warning.
Xavier helped you dress before he dressed himself.
When both you went back to the precinct, before anyone could say anything at how you both were disheveled and had dirty uniforms, Xavier said noncholantly, "There was some scuffle but it was resolved."
There were no questions asked, even by the Chief of Police.
summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).
word count: 3450
warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp
You weren’t exactly an artistic person.
You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.
Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.
What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.
Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.
After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.
You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.
Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.
As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.
“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.
“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.
“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.
You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.
“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.
The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.
Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.
He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.
“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.
Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.
Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.
Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.
“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.
He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.
“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.
His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.
“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.
“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.
“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.
“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”
The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.
His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.
And oh, did you receive it.
Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.
“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.
(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)
“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.
“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”
He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.
His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.
He was a vision.
“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.
“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.
You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.
Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.
“Stop me if you can’t take it.”
You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.
“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.
“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.
Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.
You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.
You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.
Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.
Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.
“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.
“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.
You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.
“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”
Aaaaaand the urge was gone.
You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Not more than you.”
He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.
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