When I Say I Want Caleb And Evelyn To Have Luz And Hunter's Dynamic I Mean All Of It. Word For Word Bar

Iris van Herpen | Fall/Winter 2023 Couture

My Hunter sketches

"the writer's strike could stop the MCU from making new movies for months!" fuck dont dirtytalk me like that. it's only 9:34 am

keith from voltron am i fucikingnright or what (ive never seen the show)

not only is luz the only member in the hexquad that flapjack allowed to make use of his magic, but the one time he did was to literally have luz run into hunter’s arms to try to hug him out of his mind/body control…………..

SEO SOOJIN / BLACK FOREST (2023)

i wanna string you out, i wanna make you mine — rafayel

✧. ┊ rafayel x reader ;; 7.3k+

✧. ┊ warnings: 18+, minors (ages 17 and under) and ageless blogs do not interact (like, rb, follow, etc.) or you WILL be BLOCKED! afab + gn reader, switch + top rafayel (though he is very subby through most of the fic), switch + bottom reader, dubcon (elements of mind control), forced orgasms, experimenting, edging, vaginal penetration, pet names: baby + princess

✧. ┊ snynopsis: after learning about the lemurian bond you have with rafayel and how it affects him, you decide to try out its effects in the bedroom...

✧. ┊ a/n: i think we all glossed over rafayel's floral promise card way too quickly (although fair enough bc misty invitation was a TREAT) and what we learning about the lemurian bond we have with him. if you haven't seen or heard about this card i recommend you watch a youtube playthrough or some sort of summary of the memory so you can understand what is happening here! also as for the warning, just wanted to put up a reminder in case they confused anyone! dom, sub, switch = bdsm dynamics. top, bottom, vers(e) = originally/usually queer sex positions. @hunters-association

“You trust me, right?” 

Your voice cuts through the air, thick with tension. The sound is almost startling as it pulls you both back from the lustful daze you’ve worked yourselves into. 

Pulling back from his hungry kiss, you put enough distance between your faces to look at him. His hands stay planted on your hips, keeping the rest of you close and not allowing you to pull away farther from him than you already have. The feeling of his warm fingers dancing along the bare skin of your hips—where your shirt has ridden up thanks to his greedy hands—keeps your desire for him burning low in your gut even as you clear your head just enough to convey the severity behind your question. 

His brows furrow as he looks at you. His head naturally tilts to the side ever so slightly. His lips part even as it takes a few seconds for his body to catch up with his thoughts. 

“You know I do,” he finally says. As if in support of his answer, one of his hands leaves your hips to cup your face, gently stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb. His eyes search yours as he gives you a reassuring squeeze on your hip, sensing the slight shift in you despite the lingering air of arousal and desire hanging around you like a thick fog. “Why?” 

Swallowing, you shift on his lap, unintentionally dragging your covered cunt along his bulge. The soft groan he emits and the way his fingers tighten their grip on your hip almost have you falling under his spell again, bound to get lost in all he is. You plant one of your hands flat on his chest, steadying yourself, body and mind, just long enough to voice your thoughts so you can indulge in the desires that have been swimming around your mind for the past few days. 

“I wanna try something…” you answer. Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

You can’t help but admire him even as you tell him this. Your eyes flicker between different parts of him, drinking in the sight of him before you—under you. He’s so naturally alluring; it’d make you sick if it didn’t fill you with inexplicable need. 

He squirms beneath you, your gaze scorching his skin whenever your eyes roam. His cock twitches in the confines of his pants from the attention, making a small smile curl your lips when you feel him against your core.

“Yeah?” He asks, trying—and failing—to sound more nonchalant than he currently feels. It’s endearing that after all this time there’s still a part of him that tries to hide how much you affect him. After all, you can feel the way his heartbeat has picked up since you voiced your desires, and it’s not like yours isn’t beating just as fast. 

“What did you have in mind?”

Your smile grows. 

“That’s where the trusting me part comes in…” Your voice lowers to a sultry whisper. Your hands move down his body, gliding your fingers along his torso until you meet the hem of his shirt. You slide your hands beneath his shirt, your touch dancing along his bare skin as he shivers beneath your touch. You inwardly smirk. 

He groans again, the sound bordering on a whine. His head tilts back against the headboard as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. His gaze is both filled with longing and slight skepticism. 

“Okay,” he says, ready to give into your every whim despite the subtle hesitancy you’re only able to pick up on from months of learning all about him and the way he operates. Though, there is more obvious curiosity glimmering in his gaze, you know him too well to take his answer at face value. You’re more concerned with making sure he’s entirely comfortable than the ideas you’ve been conjuring for the past few days that make your cunt throb with need. 

You keep your hands under his shirt, gently raking your fingertips up and down his front as a way to soothe him but also keep touching him the way you both crave. Dipping your head down, you press a lingering kiss to his lips, one that is soft and gentle yet makes your toes curl from the heat it sends pooling to your core. 

You pull away from the kiss but keep your lips ghosting his, staying close to him as your breaths mingle. It’s nearly intoxicating. 

“I promise I’ll make you feel so, so, good,” you whisper against his lips, your tone conveying the sincerity behind your words but also dripping with eroticism. He gently trembles underneath you, his cock twitching once more against your cunt as he lets out a shaky sigh. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and trail them along his skin to his jaw. “And I’ll stop if you tell me to. I need you to be sure.” 

He moans softly when you press a kiss right below his ear, it being one of the more sensitive spots on his body. He nods. 

“I’m sure. I trust you,” he adds, tone dripping with need but also conveying his conviction. 

You smile against his neck before pulling away. The way he whimpers softly and almost chases your touch causes your heart to leap in your chest and butterflies stir in your belly. You retract your hands from under his shirt to cup his face, holding him in your grasp as your lips connect to his. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” you whisper against his lips and press your mouth to his once more. When your lips reconnect, you swallow his moan as the intensity in which your lips meet skyrockets. You kiss him with more fervor, getting lost in the feeling of his lips meeting yours just as passionately.  

Your tongue darts out, not even bothering to wait for his lips to part on their own as you press your way inside. You both moan. You seek him out each time your mouths meet, claiming him. Your tongues dance—though, you’re the one leading.

You briefly pull away when your hands find the hem of his shirt again and begin to pull it off him, too lazy and too dizzy with lust to take the time to unbutton it. He pulls away just as swiftly, helping you remove his shirt as if it physically hurts to keep it on. Once the article has been discarded, he meets you halfway as your mouths find each other again, just as fiery and fierce as before. 

His hands grab at you. He touches and feels all parts of you he can reach as he sings his sweet sounds into your awaiting mouth. Even when you take the lead, his hands always wander across your perfect body, utterly unable to resist the temptation before him.  

When you need to breathe, you pull away from him, gasping and panting. You take the time to pull off your own shirt, keeping eye contact with him all the while. He helps you discard it along with unclipping your bra, eager to get you out of your clothes just as much as you are with him. 

His eyes land on your exposed breasts. His eyes darken despite the way his expression subtly changes to one of pleading. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says under his breath, as if it simply slipped out unintentionally. 

He looks back up at you, meeting your gaze as he slowly leans in, descending until his mouth connects with one of your nipples. His tongue flicks out, licking at the sensitive bud, making it harden further under his warm, wet touch. He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes. They’re almost wholly dark with desire, save for the sliver of his beautiful watercolor-like irises not yet overtaken by his lust blown pupils. 

You watch, unable to tear your eyes away. One of your hands comes up to card through his hair. The sound he makes from the feeling reverberates against your nipple, sending a wave of pleasure through you. You tug on his hair in reaction, a moan tumbling from your parted lips as your body heats up. His eyes close, and his brows furrow as he focuses solely on your breast, licking and flicking the nub with his tongue and even nipping it gently with his teeth every few moments. 

Each sound you make and each tug of his hair has him groaning into your flesh. His cock unwillingly twitches against your warmth each time. Despite the glorious pleasure his tongue is providing you, now accompanied by his hand that comes up and starts tweaking your unoccupied nipple, you think now is a good time to put your plan in motion. 

Lining up your still covered core with the clothed outline of his cock, you roll your hips, dragging your pulsing cunt along the length of him. 

He groans against your breast, momentarily ceasing his ministrations. Even with your underwear and pants separating you, he can still feel the warmth of your cunt and the damp spot from a mixture of your arousal and his. 

He curses softly under his breath before resuming his work on your breasts, continuing with more ferocity than before. You let out a low moan. Your body starts to tingle with pleasure now from the stimulation he’s providing your nipples and the feeling of his hard cock grinding against your increasingly aching cunt each time you roll your hips. 

“So good…” you whisper. 

You let your eyes flutter closed as you bask in the feeling of his touch. You hold his head to you, unconsciously playing with the strands of his hair as you do so. Your hips rock against his, slowly, methodically, dragging your quickly soaking core from the base of him to the very top of his length, and again. And again. 

He groans your name into the flesh of your breast, dropping his hand to squeeze your hips—not to halt your movements but as a way to try and ground himself from how good it feels. The feeling of his fingers digging into your hips has more arousal dribbling onto your panties. A soft mewl escapes you. 

You pull him back, letting him rest against the headboard once more. Your eyes briefly meet, mirroring the need and desperation echoing in your expressions. You dip your head down to his neck, tearing your gaze away from his, lest you lose yourself completely and become utterly consumed by him—and you can’t have that when there’s still something you have to try. 

You keep your hips moving. You press open mouth kisses to the side of his neck, starting at the sweet spot just below his ear and slowly work your way down. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips, subtly helping guide your movements as he lets out a string of low moans and whimpers. 

“Princess,” he sighs, longingly. To accompany his words, he squeezes your hips again as he squirms beneath you, trying to keep himself from bucking up into your touch. 

You ignore him despite the use of his pet name for you that nearly makes you shiver—a pleasant warmth settles deep within you. You continue to suckle on his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin, then lathering the freshly bruised areas with your tongue to soothe him. He moans. His hips buck up into you, thrusting his hard cock against your covered folds. 

Smirking, you bring your lips up to his ear as you grind against him more firmly. The added pressure makes you both hiss before you whisper, “Are you close?” 

He shudders. The feeling of your hot breath tickles his ear sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. 

“I will be if you keep doing that…”

You know him well enough to have known the answer before his response. While your boyfriend is a needy little thing, it’d take a little more or little longer to get him nearing the edge of his climax no matter how much precum you can feel dampen his pants. However, that confirmation was all you needed to enact your test. 

“Rafayel,” you whisper into his ear, low and sultry but commanding. “Come for me.”

A sudden glow of red illuminates from where your bodies are firmly pressed against one another, right above where your breasts are squished up against his chest. He barely has any time to mumble a few short words—if you could even consider them that—of confusion before his body tenses beneath you and follows your command. 

His fingers dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, his head dropping forward to rest on your shoulder as his body seizes up from the sudden orgasm. He groans and moans as he comes, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum the shoots into his pants. Even through the material of your pants, you can feel the way his clothing grows sodden as his spend spills onto the fabric. You continue to grind against him, working him through his orgasm—leaving kisses on his neck and whispering praises into his ear while he rides out his high. 

You only cease your movements when he stops you, holding your hips in place. You press a final kiss below his ear and pull your face back to look at him once his head lifts from your shoulder. 

His expression is a flurry of emotions. He looks confused and shocked and grumpy and blissed all at once. It makes you giggle. 

“That’s what you wanted to try?” 

Your smile remains on your face as you nod. “I wanted to see if it worked first.” 

You roll your hips against him, putting emphasis on his now softening cock and the material of his pants and underwear that’s been ruined with his cum. 

“H-hey!” He hisses, stilling your hips once again. 

You giggle. 

“Did you enjoy it?” 

He flushes. His cheeks and ears tint to almost a red color, darker than the consistent, light pink that always dusts his skin when you two are intimate. 

“Well, yes, but—” He freezes, his eyes snapping to yours as he recalls what you just said. “Wait… first?” 

Your smile grows almost feline from his reaction alone, but the way his cock twitches beneath you, despite being in the process of softening once more, sends a crashing wave of hunger through you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

There’s a beat of silence, and though you already know what his answer is, you still wait for him to respond. 

“Don’t.”

You surge forward, still worked up from touching him and making him feel good, colliding your mouth with his once again. He groans into it, the intensity from your pent up desire causing your lips and tongue to claim every inch of his mouth with vigor. 

When he hisses as you start rolling your hips against his, incapable of seeking that friction your body is in desperate need of from only him, you only pull away to mutter your next words. 

“Rafayel,” you pant against his lips, still moving your hips despite the harsh grip he has on you—a grip to simply hold onto you, because despite the hisses and whines falling past his lips as you grind on his sensitive cock, if he wanted to stop your movements completely, he would. 

“Please don’t make me come in my pants again,” he whines playfully, yet completely serious. Though, he does nothing to prevent you from doing exactly that. 

You laugh and shake your head. 

“Get hard again.” You finish the command.

Right on cue, you feel him harden once more beneath you with another glimmer of that red light. His eyes squeeze shut as his head tilts back against the headboard with a choked sound. With your lips separated and his shirt removed, you take the time to lean back and admire your view. Your eyes greedily rove over the sight of him before you—under you. From his head thrown back, to his neck covered the marks you gave him, to the beautiful design etched on his chest that glows just for you: you take in every part of him you can see. 

He keeps his head tilted back against the headboard but peeks an eye open at you, his breath slightly ragged as he looks at you through a singular half-lidded eye. 

“See something you like?”

You run your hands along his chest and abdomen, watching as his muscles twitch beneath your grazing touch. You follow your movements with your gaze. 

“Yes.” 

You smirk inwardly when you see him swallow thickly out of the periphery of your vision along with his face flushing in a mixture of embarrassment, flattery, and pride. 

As if to prove the sentiment behind your words, you get off his lap. You kneel above his lap on your knees, shuffling backward until you’re able to properly see him. The sight of him hard beneath the material of his pants and boxers that are already thoroughly covered in his cum sends a rush of arousal through your entire body before inevitably settling in your throbbing core. 

Your hands fly to his belt, hastily undoing it with a focus so sharp that you almost don’t register the way he curses under his breath or the way his hands grip the sheets next to him. 

Once his belt is unbuckled, you pull it free from his belt loops and discard it, locking away the fresh ideas of what you can do to him with it for later. One new thing at a time. 

Making quick work of the rest of his pants mechanics, you unbutton them and pull down the zipper just as quickly before tugging down his pants and boxers in one go. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock springing free, hard and red and covered in a thin sheen of cum. You turn your focus back to pulling his pants back down, even more in a hurry than before. He lifts his hips to help you as you pull them all the way off, shuffling back along the bed as you do so. You end up backing up and off the end of the bed to discard his pants. While you’re up, you take off your own bottoms and underwear. 

Once all clothing has been properly removed, you crawl back up the bed, eyes flickering between him and his cock as you make your ascent. 

You momentarily bypass his dick, instead crawling all the way up his body and plant your lips on his again. His hands are instantly on you again, one cupping your face while the other strokes your arm. You give him a passionate, albeit lazy, kiss. 

Smiling when you pull away, happily taking in the way his eyes are dazed and riddled with desire, you press one final peck to his lips before descending back down his body. You place a few kisses and licks to his chest and abs, along with the occasional hickey, taking any opportunity you’re blessed with to worship him and his body. But you still speed through the affection because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eager to taste another part of him. 

His hand tangles in your hair as you finally come level to his cock. A low hiss leaves him when your breath hits his sensitive member. 

“Fuck,” he swears, unintentionally squirming beneath you. 

You place one of your hands on his hips to keep him still as you get comfortable, settling on your stomach between his legs that have spread to accommodate you. Wasting no time, you spit on his tip—nevermind that he hardly needs any lubrication with the way his cock is still covered in his cum—and with your free hand, start to stroke him. 

He moans your name as the hand that isn’t in your hair tightens viciously in the sheets. You look up at him when he calls for you so prettily, unable to resist looking at his reaction as you touch him when he’s still so sensitive. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

You don’t give him time to answer, not that you really had the intention to get one. You keep eye contact with him as you dart your tongue out and run a long stripe up his length, momentarily maneuvering your grip so you can fully lick the underside of his cock from base to tip. 

Both his hips and cock twitch beneath your touch and his grip tightens further. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his lips stay parted in awe. He watches you attentively. The little sounds he makes from just one pass of your tongue is enough to turn your body molten with arousal. So, you do it again—licking all the way up the length of his cock again and again until he’s whining and begging for more. 

“Please,” is all he has to say—soft and barely audible, like he’s embarrassed to say such a thing aloud—for you to cease your teasing and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. 

You watch him shiver as your tongue laps over his leaking slit, greedily licking up his pre-cum with an appreciative moan. His head tilts back against the headboard of his bed, though he keeps his eyes open just enough to watch you as if he can’t bring himself to look away even as his body squirms—whether it’s to retreat from your ravenous mouth or coax more of hip past your lips, you’re unsure. 

Swirling your tongue around his tip, you involuntarily shiver when he lets out a low whine. The sound closely resembles a painful wince. You have no doubt it’s from overstimulation. You release him from your mouth for a moment, only pulling away to spit on his dick, coating the length of him in your saliva to aid the movement of your hand that now starts to steadily stroke him. You take him back in your mouth, suckling and licking the head of cock as your hand pumps him. 

His resulting whimper heightens the desire slowly consuming you from the inside out. You take him further in your mouth, swallowing his member until he hits the opening of your throat and pulling back to repeat the action again. You keep your hand stroking the part of him you don’t take into your mouth, moving up and down the length of his shaft in sync. 

“Oh, fuuu—” 

His words cut off with a whine that makes your clit throb. His hands twist further in your hair and the sheets below him. You wince inwardly. You quickly brush off the feeling, directing your focus back to him and the way he twitches in your mouth and hand. If your mouth wasn’t already full of him, you’d smirk at the feeling. 

Bringing your free hand up, you tentatively cup his balls in your hand. He twitches in your palm.

“Princess…” He moans breathily, his voice shaking as his chest heaves. 

You can tell he’s close again already from the way he fidgets beneath you, his legs kicking out as they begin to softly tremble. The look in his eyes and the way he stutters between ragged breaths only confirms your thoughts. You have half a mind to let him finish, watch him fall apart with the exquisite view you have from between his legs, worshiping him the way he deserves. 

You force yourself to pull your mouth off him yet you keep your hand stroking him, now slower but pumping the entirety of him. Your other hand continues to fondle his balls. You pant softly as you catch your breath, letting the pleasure grow more and more in him until you speak again. 

“Rafayel, you can’t come until I tell you to.” 

The mark just below his collarbone emits a faint glow, but you hardly notice as his eyes clamp shut and his body goes taut. His muscles and limbs strain as if some force is physically restraining him, and he cries out. A string of curses and incoherent babbles leaves him in a jumbled mess, and you can tell he has to work twice as hard to keep his eyes open just enough to look down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed in a silent plea, and in his eyes are glassy tears that threaten to spill any second. It’s an image you know will be forever burned into your memory.

“Please,” he whimpers between gasps and groans as you continue to work his cock and balls in your warm, soft hands, touching him just right. You teasingly lick his tip, swiping along his slit to gather the precum that dribbles from him. He stutters over his words. His cock and hips twitch as your tongue traces him. His hand falls from your hair, joining his other one in the sheets below him, making his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping them. His voice trembles. “D-don’t do this to me, baby…”

Your responding smile, sickeningly sweet and laced with unbridled need, visibly makes him shiver. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” You coo, fanning your hot breath on his overly sensitive tip. “You’re so pretty like this…”

He sucks in a breath at the feeling, his body twitching and trembling gently beneath you. He whines. 

“You’re—hah, evil…” 

His complaints die down once you remove your hands from him completely. The absence of your touch sends a wave of relief through him, yet unsettles him more than he cares to admit. His brows furrow as he looks down at you. His hands still clasp the material of his sheets tightly. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. His voice wavers despite the obvious effort he uses to appear unphased. It’s cute. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Thought you wanted me to stop?” Despite your words, you make your way up his body, straddling his hips. “Thought I was evil.” 

“You are,” he groans when you seat yourself on his lap, pressing your warm, wet cunt right against his sensitive cock. His hands instinctively find purchase on your hips, gripping them tightly. “And you know that’s not what I meant.”

You hum and shrug your shoulders. “Maybe.” 

Settling comfortably in his lap, you reach down to part your folds, letting his throbbing member glide between them. You let out a low hum. Slowly starting to rock your hips, you begin a steady pace grinding your dripping core along the length of him. 

He moans your name as if he’s cursing you yet praising you at the same time. His voice is already so ragged from the ceaseless moans you pull from him. His fingers tighten on your hips. It’s almost hard enough to wonder if he’ll leave bruises on your skin. He doesn’t know where to look—eyes flickering between your face and the way your cunt soaks his cock more and more with each roll of your hips. 

“Baby,” he tries pleading with you once again. “You’re killing me.” 

You feign a sympathetic pout at him, stifling your sounds of pleasure long enough to tease him a little more. 

“Am I not making you feel good?” 

His resulting groan goes straight to your core. Your clit throbs and your walls flutter in response. 

“You know you always make me feel good,” he sighs, squirming under you. 

He lets go of your hips, starting to trail his touch up your front. Fingers dance along the skin of your stomach, making their way up to your chest once more. His skilled hands cup your breasts. He kneads the flesh of them, taking his time to feel you under his palms and fingertips. 

“Everything you do makes me feel good…”

Your head tilts back, your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a guttural moan. His sweet words—filled with such conviction you can feel it in your very being—joined with the way his hands expertly massage your tits and his dick throbs against your aching center is all too much for you. Very conveniently so. 

“Stop that,” you pant. You open your eyes again and look back down at him.  You grab his wrists, but don’t make to remove his hands from you. 

“Stop what?” He asks. His innocent charade is almost good enough for you to believe his question is genuine. Or maybe you’re just too lost in your own desire to think as clearly as you’d like. 

You let out a soft mewl, still keeping your hips rocking at a languid pace. You chide, “I know what you’re doing…” 

“What am I doing?” 

Unsurprising to you, the moment he finishes his question his fingers deftly roll and tweak your nipples. 

A choked moan tears from your throat. You unconsciously start to rub yourself on him more fiercely. Just as planned. 

“Distracting me…” you huff, your breath growing more ragged as your pace gradually increases. “So I can’t keep—ah—keep teasing you.” 

He hums in acknowledgment between shallow breaths and half-stifled whimpers. 

“Mm, it’s not my fault if you can’t handle a little teasing of your own.” He starts to roll his hips up against you, grinding his cock more firmly between your dripping folds. “That my touch makes you feel so good you can’t even think straight.” 

You curse under your breath. Your walls clench around nothing as a familiar pressure starts to build low in your gut. You know he’s right, and you know you’re gonna come if he keeps this up. 

Grabbing his wrists, you tear his hands away from you and pin them on either side of his head. You stop the movement of your hips, keeping him trapped beneath you now that you shifted your focus to stopping his movements. 

Your face hovers right above his, your breaths mingling as you both pant. His eyes are slightly wide yet still shrouded with lust. He blinks at you. 

Your body moves on its own as you encase his lips with your own. It takes only a split second for him to react, meeting your lips with equal fervor and an eager tongue, swiping hungrily at your bottom lip. Your lips part, meeting his tongue in an ardent dance. 

Letting go of one of his hands, you lift yourself up on your knees just enough to hover over his length as you reach for him. You only pull away from his searing kiss to look down at what you’re doing. You grab his cock in your hand. You waste no time in lining him up with your soaked entrance, no longer capable of denying yourself of him. 

The resulting moan that tears free from him as you take him inside you completely in one go nearly makes you come right then and there. 

“Holy shiit,” he chokes out. 

His head tips back and his eyes squeeze shut. He squirms under you—legs kicking out, muscles flexing. The hand that’s still entwined with yours grips you for dear life. The other flies to grab and paw at the soft flesh of your thigh. 

Placing your free hand on the bed next to his head, helping keep yourself upright despite the way you want to collapse against him from how good he feels inside of you, you watch him through lidded eyes as you adjust to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. 

“Please, please, please,” he begs easily, freely. So different from his earlier reservations. There’s not even a hint of embarrassment laced in his expression—only utter desperation now that he can feel you, so warm and wet and tight around him. Everything but his need for more of you disappears from his mind. 

He whimpers, “Baby…” 

Maybe it was how wrecked he already sounded simply from being wrapped in your wet warmth. Or maybe it was the way your own need could no longer be stifled or ignored, your inner walls fluttering around him as if trying to suck him in deeper and deeper. Either way, you couldn’t refuse his pleading for even a second longer. 

You slowly start to roll your hips, grinding down on his length. The pair of you moan at the same time. You lean your head down to nudge his nose with your own, silently urging him to open his eyes and meet your gaze. When he does, your breath nearly gets knocked from you. His eyes are lined with glistening tears, making them look even more beautiful—making him look even more beautiful, if that was somehow even possible. You continue to roll your hips slowly as you watch him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you sigh under your increasingly ragged breath. You gradually begin to increase the pace of your movements. 

The way he looks at you, the tears in his eyes that are threatening to spill down his cheeks, the way he holds your hand and grips your thigh like you’ll vanish if he lets you go, it’s all too much. Everything about him makes your skin tingle and sharpens the feeling of him moving in you. You can feel each inch of him sliding in and out of you, every bump and ridge and vein, every twitch and throb of his cock. 

“C’mere,” he whimpers. 

His free hand releases your thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You’re almost lying completely against his front save for the space needed to angle and roll your hips properly. Your face inches closer to his. Your breath mingles and you gasp when you start to feel him meet your hips with his thrusts, matching your pace and intensity despite his obvious desire for more. 

You mewl against his lips, “Rafayel.”

“I love the way you say my name,” he breathes aloud—more as a statement rather than words intended for you to hear. He gazes into your eyes, watching you through heavy eyelids. 

With the way he pulls you impossibly closer, his voice trembling and hips stuttering against yours, you know the depth at which he means those words. 

You press your lips fully against his and begin to pick up the pace, gradually rolling your hips against his faster, dragging your cunt along his cock in more prolonged movements. He instantly matches the change.  

Your kiss mirrors the growing intensity in the way your body moves together, meeting each other with a steadily growing fervor encompassing the desire and passion that’s burning inside you. Neither of you can control your noises. Soft mewls and moans fall freely from your lips, muffled by the other’s mouth as your lips and tongue meet again and again. It’s almost ravenous the way he kisses you, the way he swallows your beautiful sounds of pleasure and echoes them right back to you like everything you’re feeling is no longer felt by only you, but him as well. 

Your toes curl as his arm tightens around your waist, gripping you almost harshly. He starts to pick up the pace, thrusting up into you with more vigor. A rhythmic plop, plop, plop, resounds through the air. Your cheeks burn when you start to hear the embarrassing squelch from your arousal each time he enters you. You squeeze his hand. 

“Rafayel,” you whine as you pull back from the kiss. It’s both a moan expressing how good the added stimulation is but also a warning of the pleasure now building rapidly in the pit of your abdomen. You rest your forehead against his. Your eyes desperately seek out his gaze already on you as you desperately try to match his pace. 

“Shh,” he coos, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your size. “You’re doing so good.” 

His words go straight to the increasing pleasure within you. You gasp and hiccup as your walls squeeze him deliciously. He groans. 

“S-supposed to be making you feel good,” you pitifully whimper between your mewls of pleasure.  

“You are. You—hah—you’re making me feel so good,” he tilts his head up, nudging your nose with his own and ghosting his lips against yours. “I just…can’t help myself. Just—just let me have you right now, princess. Please.” 

Any last ounce of resistance goes out the window when you hear that. Your body starts to tremble as your climax nears. You nod your head, fighting to keep your eyes open and watching the way his face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“‘M all yours, Rafa. All yours.” 

His pace inadvertently picks up when you say that. His grip gets tighter. You cry out and your hips come to a halt, unable to keep up with his quick, almost harsh movements. You grip his hand tightly in yours, trying to find anything to ground yourself. 

“Rafayel!” Your head drops down from his forehead to rest in the crook of his neck. Your eyes squeeze shut as you hiccup and moan. His head tilts to give you more room to bury yourself in his neck. “I’m gonna come!” 

He keeps the same pace. He holds you to him and buries his face in your hair, slightly muffling his moans and pants as he breathes in your scent. 

“Y-yeah, baby. I can feel it. Squeezing me so tight…” he groans. “Let me have it. Come for me, princess.” 

Your breathing hitches as your pleasure starts to crest. You have a brief moment of clarity long enough to mumble your final command into his neck, “Rafayel, come with me.” 

You see a faint glow emanate from him before your eyes roll back as you reach your peak. You cry out his name and cling to him as you tumble over the edge of your climax. Not even a moment later you feel Rafayel tense beneath you. His fingers dig into your waist and he lets out a choked moan as he finds his release inside you. His hips don’t stop moving, even as a delectable warmth blossoms low in your abdomen, prolonging your pleasure. 

You grind against him—small, short movements in an attempt aid you both in coming undone. 

He holds you just as close as you ride out your highs together, babbling and whimpering barely coherent praises and curses. You both eventually slow to a gradual stop as the last of your orgasm wash over you. 

Panting, you pull away from his neck to catch your breath and look down at him. His eyes open just enough to meet your gaze. The sight before you is captivating. His cheeks are fully flushed, his eyelids droopy, lips parted, and he looks as if he’s been completely wrecked. 

You lean down slowly, letting your lips envelop his in a gentle kiss. They move together in a delicate, languid dance. The sole intent to simply feel, as you both relish in the aftermath of all the pleasure you provided for each other. You let go of his hand finally in favor of cupping his face in the palm of your hand. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips, never parting from the kiss further than required to speak or take a quick breath. 

He keeps his arm wrapped around you while his now free hand moves to your back. He begins to rub it, soothingly. 

“I love you, too,” he breathes. “More than you can ever know.” 

Your heart skips a beat, and butterflies swarm your tummy. Only he can make you feel like this. Only he can fill you so utterly and completely with love and happiness that no one else has ever been able to give you—that no one will ever be able to, but him. You can only hope you’re able to do an inkling of the same for him.

For that reason, you find yourself saying, “I have one more command for you, if you can handle it.”

You can see the way his interest piques as his breath hitches and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 

“You know I can handle anything you throw at me.”

His words can’t help but make you smile. You lean down and playfully nip at his bottom lip. 

“Perfect,” you murmur. Your expression suddenly turns more serious, but remains gentle. “Rafayel, you’re free to not to follow a command from me, or anyone else for that matter, that you don’t want to do.” 

There’s a moment of silence along with a faint flash as the bond mark on his collarbone briefly lights up. There’s a few more heartbeats of the two of you looking at each other. You swear you see something inexplicable flash in his eyes, but it’s quickly forgotten and replaced once he bursts out laughing. 

You frown and pull back slightly from him. Before you can move away too far, he tightens his hold on you, not letting you back up more than a few inches. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says, trying—and failing—to stifle his laughter. “You’re just too cute, princess.” 

You continue to frown at him. 

He eases up on his laughing, moving the hand that was on your back to cup your face. His thumb strokes your cheek as he smiles up at you so tenderly, you almost forget your confused frustration. 

“You’re very sweet, but that’s not how this works.” He dips his chin, motioning to where the mark on his skin has now faded away. His voice keeps an air of lightheartedness, but something in the way talks and looks at you conveys the truth in his next words: “I already want to do what you ask of me.” 

You blink. Your frown disappears but the confusion still lingers. 

“Besides,” he says before you have the chance to verbally respond. “I thought you enjoyed having me completely under your control.” He lightly bucks his hips up, reminding you of the way he’s still filling you up albeit now soft, and everything the two of you just did. 

You gasp and lightly hit his shoulder. He giggles at your reaction.

“Don’t distract me. And of course I enjoyed this. But I really can’t stand the idea of you doing anything you don’t want to.” Your frown returns, deeper and more pained than before. “I feel like you’re trapped with me…”

His face drops. His eyes mirror the sorrow now glistening in your gaze.

“Hey.” He sits up, taking you with him. His arm stays wrapped around you as the other cradles your jaw. “I chose this. I choose to be yours.” He gently strokes your cheek, looking between your eyes as he expresses himself in earnest. “This bond wouldn’t exist if I didn’t want it with you in the first place.” 

The emotions weighing heavy in your chest and lodging in your throat lighten bit by bit with his words. His gentle touch gradually soothes you. 

“What if you change your mind?”

“I won’t.” 

He says it so quickly, so sure of himself, part of you breaks inside in the best way. 

“Then promise me something.” He nods, staying quiet as he waits for your request. “Promise me you’ll always honor your own desires and wishes and won’t do things for me you don’t want to. Okay?” 

The look in his eyes soften for a moment. He lets out a breath. 

“Okay,” he says, softly but not weakly. “I promise.” 

You lean forward, resting your forehead against his and your eyes flutter shut. You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. There’s a few beats of silence, relishing in his embrace before he speaks again. “Can I tell you what I desire right now?” 

You open your eyes and pull back enough to look at him. Your breath hitches at the look in his eye. The soft and adoring glint still sits dormant in his gaze, but it’s now coupled with something more wanton. You swallow. 

“Yeah.”

His eyes darken further and his arms wrap around you. In one swift motion he flips you onto your back, laying you against the bed gently. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then up at your eyes again. He slowly leans in, whispering one word before his lips slot against yours. 

“You.”

all works on this blog are ©rafayelsheart on tumblr. please do not claim any of my works as your own, repost, or recommend my works publicly. thank you.

HANI DDD, 171110

i think we as a society need to start accepting that fictional love stories need to be a bit toxic for us to go insane over them… like, sometimes you kinda need the two parties to be obsessed with each other and fucked up and willing to bring each other back from the dead instead of moving on and go to therapy i’m sorry😔

thinking about how palismen can act on their own free will and if their owner is unable to wield them, palismen can make the decision to protect their owner’s loved ones from danger (like with eda, owlbert and luz)

thinking bout evelyn being flapjack’s original owner. flapjack being drawn to luz initially because she reminded him of her. flapjack ultimately rejecting luz as his next owner bc he knows evelyn wanted to protect caleb from harm and that’s where he’s most needed. flapjack only warming up to hunter when he realizes this is caleb and this is who his owner would’ve wanted to protect the most, so he does it for her. belos saying goodbye to evelyn when killing flapjack because he’s the last piece of evidence of her. flapjack being willing to sacrifice himself for his owner’s true love