Smut Book | Various Characters |

Rafael Barba: Sugar, Sugar

❌I do not take credit for this imagine, all credit goes to (raulism) from Tumblr❌

Request: Imagine Rafael becoming your Sugar Daddy.

Warnings: Smut, Slight daddy kink

"Is this seat taken?"
He looked up from the second glass of scotch that he was nursing and into the face of the most gorgeous woman he had even seen. Motioning her to the barstool next to him, he tried his best not to stare but he knew he was failing.
And he knew that she knew. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she smirked before turning towards the bartender, "I'll have whatever he's having." The bartender moved away to pour her liquor as she crossed her legs, her dress moving farther up her incredible legs.
"It's scotch."
She swiveled her chair towards him, her knee brushing his and sending a jolt of electricity throughout his body. Leaning in, his nostrils were flooded by her perfume, her shampoo, her own unique scent.

"You don't think I can handle scotch?"
He thought she could probably handle anything.
But he only shrugged, deferring to her judgement on her choice of drink. She laughed; a light, airy sound that made him feel young again. Had he ever laughed like that? So carefree, and happy, and buoyant? He doubted it.

She relaxed against the back of her chair, her eyes slowly traveling down his body as she took in the sight of him. It made him feel naked. But a delicious sort of naked, the naked that ends in the best fuck of your life.

She must have liked what she saw because the smile on her face grew larger, almost predatory in it's intensity. If he was her prey, he didn't stand a chance. Extending her hand toward him, she offered her name and took his in return.
"Rafael." She repeated it back to him, her tongue feeling it out, saying his name slowly and seductively.
He wanted her mouth to feel something else of his.

Unsure of what exactly was happening right now - he never had thoughts about random women like this - his mind struggled to focus.
The bartender finally returned with her drink, and she raised it towards him, "To new friends."
Is that what they were? Is that where they were going? It wouldn't be enough, he knew that already, felt it with an instinct that was borderline primal.
But he clinked her glass, before knocking back the rest of his scotch in one shot. She seemed delighted, laughing her incredible laugh again and quickly following his suit.
He took control this time, tapping his glass on the bar before ordering the bartender, "Keep 'em coming."
And he did. Glass after glass was poured, and glass after glass was emptied into their stomachs.
Rafael could sense the underlying current of danger that dripped from the air around her. And he knew he shouldn't be drinking this much, shouldn't be getting drunk when he already felt so unstable because of her.
And yet, he also couldn't stop. He felt drawn to her and her demands like a moth to a flame. And it never ends well for the moth, but he wondered if it was truly such a horrible way to go? At least the bug's last moments were filled entirely by the light that they sought.

It was an accurate enough description. Every time she touched him, every time she giggled and said his name, he could feel his entire body warming up with bliss.

They might as well have been on a single barstool by now, their limbs entirely overlapped, their hands working to familiarize themselves's with the other's skin. Everyone else left them alone, left them secluded in their small world of temptation at the end of the bar.
She was a bad idea, a future mistake, a dead-end with no chance of his continued survival. But he didn't care, figured he might even cut his own heart out of his chest if she requested it.
"I need you." He confessed to her.
"I know."
And she did. She had known how this game would end since before it even began. She had targeted him, like a hunter with a prized deer in her scope. But he'd be damned if he didn't get to taste her before he died.
He stood to take her home, watching as her grin turned wicked at the transparency of his desire. It was a long taxi ride and an even longer elevator ride. As he turned the keys to his apartment, he felt shy, nervous about sex for the first time since high school.
But she was entirely rare, wholly different already and they hadn't even fucked yet. She was going to destroy his life.