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rafesgoldrings · 1 year ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mutual masturbation, smut, light choking, reader rides Rafe, not proof read so i’m sorry if there’s any errors or this isn’t as good as usual😭, I’m almost positive that’s all

Summary: When you see that Rafe Cameron is looking for new ranch hands, you jump at the opportunity. You’ve heard the rumors about him being a cowboy casanova and plan on keeping it professional, but his blue eyes and thick southern drawl make it harder than you planned

A/N: First off @congratsloserr you’re literally a genius for this request and I hope I did it justice. Second, this isn’t the last time you’ll be seeing Cowboy Rafe🤭

You and Rafe had been going out for a few weeks, you’d started working at his ranch when you saw they needed some help. Everyone had told you about Rafe and how he was an incredible boss, but a major cowboy casanova so don’t get any ideas. Now that really was the plan, go to work, do your job, then leave, nothing other than that. But then he walked in, his big blue eyes looking directly into yours, he was wearing a light green button down, bootcut blue jeans, and cowboy boots and hat. You’ve heard people say they feel that spark at first glance, but believed it to be bullshit because how can you feel that connection from a single glance? This is how.

You tried so hard to be strong, really resist the charming smile he’d give you. The way he’d call you ‘darlin’ and ‘sweetheart’ with his thick southern accent, but it was becoming harder and harder. He’d been spending more time with you, insisting it was to make sure you’d settled in nicely and to help you out a bit, but then the flirting started. He’d greet you with a ‘mornin beautiful, how’s my favorite girl today?’ and walk you to and from your car each morning, telling you how lucky he was to have someone as incredible as you working for him. The resistance you’d worked so hard to build gradually falling more and more apart with each brush of his hand against yours.

And then he’d asked you. He’d asked you the question you tried so hard to avoid even happening. ‘Hey darlin, would you like to go out to dinner with me Friday night?’ it was inappropriate. He was your boss and a huge player who didn’t respect any of the women he met. It would be terrible to agree…

So here you are…several dinner dates later and in a semi official relationship. The most you’d done with him is give a small peck on his lips, maybe if you didn’t put out he would get bored and you could go back to just being his new ranch hand. But it didn’t seem to be working very well, he still asked you out and still placed his hand on your lower back as if he was claiming you. He still gave you a small kiss on the cheek when you’d part your separate ways at the end of the night, still greeted you with the same flirtatious things he’d always done.

And then, because why the hell wouldn't it happen to you, you’d been in his home instead of the usual restaurant you went to for dinner. Maybe you'd felt a tad bit more bold, or maybe it was because you no longer wanted to resist the temptation of him. He’d made you a very nice dinner and paired it with some fancy wine you couldn’t even pronounce. It was actually a nice evening, a night with just the two of you and nobody else around. Felt almost natural, he offered you the guest bedroom if you wanted to say and you accepted after a few moments to think. Was it a mistake? Maybe, but isn’t life all about making mistakes?

He was still wearing his cowboy hat, technically you could blame what happened next in the two glasses of wine if anyone asked, when you decided to kiss him. All the tension built over the last few weeks finally bubbling over. Your tongues battling for dominance until his took over. It made your head spin and you needed to pull away for air. Your lips swollen from the intensity, then you reached up and pulled his hat off of his head and put it on your own. Watching as he ran his hand through his messy hair and gave you a smirk.

“You know what they say about the cowboy hat rule don’t you sweetheart?” you shook your head no, a toothy grin on your face.

“Well,” he pulled his phone out and connected it to his home speaker before playing the song ‘Save a horse, Ride a cowboy’ “I think this song sums it up pretty well”

Giving him a small smirk, you unbuttoned his shirt and took a minute to admire his abs, and then undid his belt to pull his pants down. Once he was stripped, his boxers being discarded somewhere in the large living room, you pushed him onto the couch. The music blaring in your ears, alcohol running through your system, and the lustful gaze he had gave you a whole new level of confidence. You were so glad you wore a dress tonight, nothing too fancy but also nothing too casual. You slowly peeled one of the straps down your arm, and then the other, before sliding it down your body. Rafe was squirming from his spot on the couch at the sight of your bare tits and black lace thong on full display.

“Fuck darlin, you’re gorgeous” his voice full of adoration, eyes raking up and down your body just wondering how he was the lucky bastard that got to see you this way.

“Thank you cowboy” you gave him a playful wink, hands hooking into the sides and moving them around like you’d seen so many dancers do before, slowly turning so your back was facing him and bending over to take them off.

Your glistening cunt was on full display for him, perfect ass right in front of him. He wanted to keep you bent over like that and fuck into you until you couldn’t handle it anymore. But he stayed put, wanting you to go as far as you were comfortable with. You brought your hands to spread your cunt apart, smirking to yourself when you heard Rafe groan , before rubbing your clit with one hand. Your fingers rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves relentlessly, arousal leaking out of your hole and onto your thighs.

“You’re killin me over here baby” it was almost a whine, his head was thrown back against the couch and he had one hand stroking his cock when you’d turned your head to look over at him.

“Fuck” you let out a small moan, the visual of Rafe jerking himself off while you touched yourself turning you on even more.

You stuck two of your fingers inside yourself, giving your clit a break, and began pumping them in and out. A low whine escaping your lips as you picked up the tempo, the sound of mixed moans filling the room. His breathing hitched, a small chain of groans falling from his lips as he came all over himself, you followed shortly after. Moaning his name over and over again, moving one hand to the coffee table to balance yourself as you fell apart on your own hand.

“Alright darlin, you’ve had your fun. But now it’s my turn, bring that perfect body over here and ride my cock” his voice was much more firm now, you quickly did as you were told.

His hands gripped your hips as he guided you down into his cock, mumbling a small ‘fuck’ as your cunt slid onto his cock and clenched around it. You slowly began bouncing on it, circling your hips occasionally, trying to adjust to his size. He was much bigger than anyone you’d ever slept with, much more girthy as well. But it hit all the right spots inside you and made you see stars each time it brushed against them. The grip he had on your hips was firm enough to bruise, especially when you started going faster, but you loved it. His hat was still on your head which drove him wild. He had this pretty girl bouncing on his cock, wearing his hat, in his home. He was the luckiest man alive right now.

“You’re so-fuck-so big Rafe” a smirk took over his face at the compliment.

“Yeah? You’re taking me so well sweetheart, such a good girl for me. Your cunt feels so fucking good around me” he moaned out, moving to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a kiss. The both of you moaning into each other's mouth at the overwhelming amount of euphoria you were experiencing.

You weren’t going to last much longer, it was too much for you to hold off. That familiar feeling in your belly building up again, Rafe was close too. He could feel himself getting closer, opting to grip your hips and start moving you faster. Listening to the pretty noises that slipped through your parted lips, god he could come undone just listening to them.

“R-rafe, ‘m so close” you brought your forehead against his, the cowboy hat pushing further up on your head.

“I am too darlin, want to feel you come on my cock baby. Can you do that?” you weakly nodded, hair sticking to your face and bodies glistening with sweat.

“3..” his hips snapping into at a relentless pace.

“2..” your lips capturing his, the kiss sloppy but full of passion

“1..” the both of you falling apart. His lips moving to your neck as he claimed it as his, his cum filling up your tight cunt until it was making a prominent ring around his cock. The filthy sounds of your wet cunt filling the room as you came all over him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts as you rode out your high before you slowly climbed off of him. You laid against the couch, legs spread and cum dripping out of you, mouth open and panting. His cock had softened by now, his head against the cool leather of the couch as he tried to catch his own breath.

“You’re something else baby” he chuckled.

You gave him a small smile before pulling his cowboy hat off and placing it on the table, slowly standing to go use the bathroom and clean up. When you walked back into the living room, he was dressed again which made you slightly disappointed. He watched in confusion when you grabbed your things and headed towards his guest room.

“Where are you going gorgeous?”

You turned around to face him, face slightly twisted in a confused expression. “To the guest room? I’ll leave by the morning I promise, we can just act like this didn’t happen if you want”

Was he done with you now? He’d gotten what he wanted and now it was on to the next poor girl that fell victim to his charm. You weren’t special, just another notch on his belt. He probably-

“What? Darlin, after tonight? There’s no way I'm letting you go, sleep in my bed with me. Want my girl next to me when I'm sleeping so I know I'm not dreaming” oh, well that was unexpected.

You assumed he’d throw you out, find someone new. Not want to keep you.

“Oh, Okay. Well i’m very exhausted,” you let out a small laugh “could we go to bed?”

“Course sweetheart” he grinned, standing up and walking to grab your hand before leading you to his room.

He threw you one of his shirts before going to his bathroom and taking a quick shower, walking out in just a fresh pair of boxers and joining you in bed. Your back was facing him and you gasped when you felt his strong arms wrap around you and pull you into him. It felt natural, like this was how it was meant to be in a weird way. Like he was meant to be like this with you, his player reputation being a bunch of baseless talks because he hasn’t settled with any of the girls. But he wasn’t the player you’d heard about with you, he was kind and gentle. He gave you his shirt to sleep in and wrapped his arms around you to hold you close, he called you gorgeous and darlin everyday, greeted you every morning, took you out to dinner.

But the one question played in your mind, what now?

“Rafe?” you heard him let out a small hum, “What are we? Like where do we go from here?”

“Well,” he took a deep breath, or let out a yawn, you couldn’t see him to know which one “I want you to be mine. So if you would like it, i’m asking you to be my girlfriend”

You couldn’t help the large smile that took over your face involuntarily. You felt like you were back in high school and your crush told you they liked you back. Like the young girl you once were that thought she found her prince charming because a boy asked you to marry him with a ring pop on the playground.

“I’d like that” your voice came out in almost a whisper, the sleep starting to take over you.

“Good, get some sleep darlin” a small kiss was placed on the top of your head, strong arms wrapping tighter around you.

Your arms wrapped around his and finally, your eyes closed. The both of you falling into an easy sleep, limbs tangled with each other like it was meant to be.

Tag List: @outerbankspov @sweetestdesire @dreamingwithrafe @congratsloserr @fulla02reads @madelynie

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx

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syrupfog · 5 months ago

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Zoro who grew up in the foster system, passed from house to house because he’s labeled a flight risk after continually getting lost on his way home. No one ever believes him that his sense of direction is really that bad, but every new house is a new neighborhood to learn. No matter what home he’s at, as soon as he gets lost they ship him somewhere more restrictive until he ends up in someplace similar to juvie, where he can’t get lost bc he can’t leave.

He meets an angry blond kid his own age there, who was dropped off by his own family, and

I assume they don’t get along, for a myriad of reasons not least of which that Sanji has a family, and Zoro hates that about him. They get paired in a room together and Zoro can’t understand why Sanji hates his family when Zoro would give anything to have one

It takes until a visitor day months down the line for him to figure it out.

Because Zoro never attends visitor days. He doesn’t have visitors. But he shows up to this one bc he literally got lost and ended up there.

He gravitates toward the group that’s clearly Sanji’s family

Just close enough to hear the way they speak to him and about him, about how he’s bringing down their name and he’s lucky he’s here and not on the streets and Sanji weakly mumbling that maybe he’d rather be on the streets they won’t even let him cook here

And his dad backhanding him at that. And Zoro sees the staff witnessing this and doing nothing and draws the correct conclusion that this is a regular occurrence and completely allowed.

So of course when Sanji appears in their room later Zoro loudly declares, “I’m watching out for you from now on, we’re in this together.”

And Sanji’s like “fuck off I don’t need your pity.”

Zoro says, “what fucking pity? This is about me hating your fucking family, we’re gonna get out of here someday and I’m going to kick their asses.”

Sanji doesn’t accept this pronouncement for a long time but Zoro makes himself the Sanji Guard Dog and he hit his growth spurt before Sanji so he’s able to tower menacingly behind him, it works well.

And Zoro’s angry inside but he hasn’t felt sadness for a while, until Sanji.

And Sanji’s sad inside and his anger’s a facade for that. So like, they balance each other out.

Sanji turns 18 eight months before Zoro and Zoro tells him not to show up to visitor days but Sanji always does, and talks about this fucking chef he’s found who’s taken him in.

And for the both of them life starts at 18, living in a tiny rundown flat above the Baratie and they’re still full of anger and sadness but when Zoro gets lost the first time, he’s so worried Sanji’s going to throw him out like every other family did.

But he doesn’t. Zoro comes home five hours late from getting on the wrong train and Sanji throws his arms around Zoro’s shoulders and says he was worried. Zoro snaps at him because he was so wound up ready for a fight.

But Sanji doesn’t just give up on him like he thought, and Zoro learns the city ever so slowly and he gets lost less (it doesn’t ever entirely stop, though) and Sanji learns his habits, gets good at finding him.

Zoro spends a long time stunned at this. Confused that Sanji is never more than grouchy or worried.

The only time Sanji is ever truly upset is one night when it’s been raining hard and the landmarks are harder to find on the dark so Zoro’s hours late, and Sanji’s pissed When he walks in the door, yelling about where has he been, it’s been fucking hours, fucking hell, Zoro.

Zoro’s so hurt and overwhelmed (and sopping wet from the rain) and having flashbacks to his childhood and feeling like, oh this is it, the straw that broke the camel’s back for Sanji apparently.

He turns to leave, just walk right out that door and disappear, but as he wrenches the door open suddenly there’s a hand clenched tight around his wrist and Zoro can’t pull out of his grip

And he starts saying that Sanji had better fucking let him go, only to see that Sanji’s crying, lips pressed tight together, trembling, looking at the floor, tears running down his face.

Zoro realises maybe this isn’t about him.

He learns after he’s closed the door again that Sanji’s family had been by, had threatened a number of things directed at the both of them, and then Sanji had sat and waited for so so long for Zoro to get home, to prove to himself Zoro was Safe.

Zoro pulls him into a hug, tight enough prove he’s real and okay.

They have a shitty little one bedroom flat as it is but that night they share Sanji’s bed. And then most nights after, too.

They fall into a relationship sort of backwards but that’s okay.

Both of them were abandoned in different ways. Both of them needed finding, holding, keeping. And they get that in each other.

#zosan #one piece #my writing

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starry--blossom · 6 months ago

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Alright, the special.

The special was SO FUCKING GOOD I'm crying inside because there's SOOOO much to talk about with the kyman moments I am THRIVING right now- ahem sorry got too hyper there ^^'

First of all, the fact that everytime Cartman had a skinny dream Kyle was always at the front of it one way or another, this boy is obsessed with him it's insane that he was in his dream twice and he went to him first at the end after the declaration THAT KYLE MADE.

Second, Kyle was making the conscious decision to help him make his dream real and was initiating almost ALL of the physical contact with Cartman which he would NEVER do and never HAS done until now.

Then Kyle filling out all the medical records and going through all the loops despite not really getting anywhere with Cartman watching him REALLY reminded me of the crack baby episode where he was doing all the legal shit and I am honestly living for it, plus not to mention that Kyle was getting pissed off FOR Cartman's sake because they kept being denied. So good.

BUT THEN it gets to when Kyle and the boys stay in the cycle of make the drug - drug gets taken - order more powder - repeat and Cartman was giving up, Kyle kept giving him the pep talks because Kyle knows that Cartman's never one to give up on anything so seeing him actively losing his will was weird for him to see and he wasn't allowing that, nuh uh. Even going as far as ordering a supply that wasn't their usual after the Indian factory got attacked.

Also when they had the yelling match shaking each other back and forth, those last words from Kyle were so fucking passionate and genuine are you kidding meeeeeee. AND THEY WERE INCHES AWAY FROM EACHOTHER THEY LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS- oh yeah and Cartman was literally staring at Kyle's lips.

And the chase scene... WHERE DO I BEGIN?? Kyle was literally SHOOTING PEOPLE'S MOTHERS so he could successfully make the drug for Cartman (and everyone else) because he didn't want Cartman's hope to run out again THAT IS SOME GAY SHIT RIGHT THERE. He was so determined to make Cartman's wishes come true he didn't care what he had to do to make it happen.

And I have no idea if anyone else even caught this but Cartman pronounces Kyle's name CORRECTLY. THREE TIMES! This just proves my theory I had ALL the way back since Imaginationland that Cartman says his name correctly when he's actually being genuine aghhh bye I'm losing my fucking mind I was literally GIGGLING after watching this special the first time around.

Matt and Trey KNOW what they're doing with every subtle action, whether it's eye placement, name pronunciation ect and those of you who are going to turn around and say that Kyle doesn't give a shit about Cartman and how he is then RESPECTFULLY you are living under a fucking rock because this whole thing is just... Kyle being concerned about him and wanting him to achieve what he wants for himself like a caring friend should and I am so glad this was finally brought to light and shoved into everyone's faces ❤💚

#kyman #sp kyman #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #kyman brainrot #south park kyman #the end of obesity #south park the end of obesity

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moviecritc · 5 months ago

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Pato bestie but you can pick the plot 🧡

kiss me ⋆ pato o'ward

pairing: pato o'ward x reader

summary: after ending second at the indy500, you comfort pato which leads him to confess his feelings for you

word count: 628

warnings:

a/n: i know it's been ages, but i finally came up with this idea, i hope you liked it <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Everyone was on edge when Newgarden overtook Pato less than two corners from the finish line. Pato's chances of winning the race vanished in a matter of seconds, and then Newgarden crossed the finish line with Pato arriving milliseconds later.

Both Elba and Y/N were there when it happened. Pato was thrilled that Y/N had come to the Indy 500 because it was the first time he had a high chance of winning, which made the second place finish even worse.

Seeing him get out of the car crying broke Y/N's heart. She had known Pato since they were 17 years old and had rarely seen him so devastated. When he got to the pits, they hugged for a long time, but couldn't talk much. Y/N let Elba, his sister, talk to him calmly and didn't see him again until they arrived at the hotel.

She was quietly in her room, waiting for news from Elba or Pato in case they still felt like going to the after party. Then someone knocked on her door. Y/N got up immediately, finding Pato on the other side.

"Hey, hi," Y/N went to hug him right away, pulling him into the room. "How are you feeling? Do you want something? We can order room service, they have literally everything." Y/N kept hugging him.

Her concern brought a small smile to Pato's face. "No need. And I'm a little better than before, thanks," he nodded, lowering his gaze.

Y/N knew Pato was embarrassed about how he had reacted after the race.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, right now I just want to be with my best friend, like always," he said, shrugging a little.

"That sounds perfect," Y/N smiled, putting her arms around Pato's shoulders. "There's a dozen little bottles in the minibar, grab them all."

In less than an hour, they had finished all of them. They were sitting on the bed, Y/N with her legs stretched out and leaning on some pillows and Pato in front of her, leaning on his hands. Neither of them was drunk, they had just drunk enough to speak freely.

"I'm going to order more," Y/N said, reaching for the room phone.

To her surprise, Pato stopped her, grabbing her arm. "I want to tell you something."

Y/N frowned, was what he had to say so important that they couldn't order more alcohol?

"You know you can tell me anything, Pato."

"It's just…" Pato was starting to get nervous. "You've been my best friend for too long."

Y/N could only laugh at how little sense Pato's words made.

"Are you drunk?" she said. "I thought you could handle more…"

Pato sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at her in a slightly different way than he had before.

"I'm not drunk, Y/N. I'm confessing."

Y/N took in those words, that thought had also been circling in her mind. She and Pato. Pato and her. They were very close friends, probably the best friendship she had ever had.

"It's just…" Pato continued, still without raising his gaze. "I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N."

The way he pronounced her name was completely different from other times. Something had changed, causing a totally different sensation in her body. Y/N gave a small smile before they shared expectant looks. Pato was fiddling with the cap of one of the bottles and Y/N waited for him to make the first move.

She leaned a little towards him. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Pato didn't waste any time.

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward x you #pato o'ward x reader #f1 #pato o'ward fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 fic #pato o'ward imagine #indycar #indy 500 #noraverse 🫧#po5 #po5 x you

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moondirti · 1 year ago

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DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼

SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.

explicit (18+) | 1.5k words

part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far

This is how it is with Miguel.

Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.

And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:

What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?

It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.

Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home.

You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail.

(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle.

On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.)

For now, though–

For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth.

“You been working out, Mig?”

“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off.

“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through.

“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.”

“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Of course.”

His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit.

The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity.

It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether.

“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.”

No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence.

“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you.

“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless.

“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.

“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”

“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”

“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it.

That is, until–

“What do you need?” He asks.

Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival.

“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer.

And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.

“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.”

And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.

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theaxolotlkween · 8 months ago

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Some Nanite Project headcanon doodles and their explanations, going from left to right:

I doubt that Rex would say this exact thing but the idea is that, being a fairly lonely kid and someone who was probably easily bored even back then, Rex would’ve pestered the people around him a lot, which you know. Fair. I hc him as being a lot like he is now, but obviously more childish. Because literal child. So very inquisitive, curious, trusting, and empathetic, but easily bored and reckless. I feel like he would play on his own (or accidentally injure himself climbing on industrial equipment which just seems like something he just. Did. It also makes him currently being an adrenaline junkie make more sense) until he got bored (or injured) and then pester all the scientists around him that would tolerate him for long periods of time.

Next up is that Van Kleiss and Violeta Salazar (Rex’s mom) had similar or complimentary roles on the Nanite Project and thus worked together a lot. Judging by how Van Kleiss talks about Violeta in Written in Sand, they probably had a similar dynamic to Rex and Van Kleiss in that episode, except with a lot less sand and threat of imminent demise. This would be really funny to me. Also pictured Rex just hanging out, because he seems like he would be a momma’s boy. He is acting out a very tense and dramatic romance between these two cars and they are finally about to kiss. I also feel like current Rex would love K-dramas.

I honestly don’t think Van Kleiss hated or disliked Rex when Rex was a young child. I feel like he would’ve found him amusing at best, annoying at worst, and sort of weirdly endearing, but never being outright mean to him. Based on the tolerance he has for Rex’s shenanigans in the show while he has almost none for anyone else, even his own allies, this had to have started somewhere. If Rex was a chronic botherer, then someone who doesn’t get easily or outwardly annoyed would be the perfect target. Van Kleiss also still is not explaining shit, his favourite activity.

Finally, Rex naming ZagRS. This is actually one that I’ve had since I was about 14-15 because there’s no reason given for her name to be what it is. Like it’s not an acronym like GLaDOS (Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System), and it sounds kind of like Zagreus, an ancient Greek deity that I cannot find anything on except for who his parents might be and that he might have some connection to Dionysus. In canon, Caesar mentions that Rex speaking Spanish makes him laugh because he has trouble with pronunciation. This recently led to a whole-ass rabbit hole where I came up with the theory that Rex has just always had trouble pronouncing words because of ADHD, which fed into my already existing headcanon of Rex having named ZagRS. Also I think that Caesar was another person Rex bothered a lot because Caesar has a tendency to be pretty chill. I kind of wonder if they had to keep Rex away from ZagRS because she was designed to destroy any nanites that got out of the holding tanks.

I honestly love making these theories and headcanons so if you want to see more or have questions just pop me an ask.

#i am so disappointed that no portal references were made in a zagrs episode #you can tell i was recovering from a migraine just by seeing how slanted some of these drawings are #generator rex #generator rex headcanons #nanite project era #rex salazar #van kleiss #violeta salazar #caesar salazar #zagrs #theaxolotlposts #theaxolotlart

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starbabyg · 24 days ago

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Cockwarming with Juraj or Arber? Or both🤭

Cockwarming for my two favorite Canadiens coming right up pookie bear

warnings; smut, duh. Cock warming

Juraj~

Cockwarming was honestly a staple for Slaf. It was something he just liked to do when the mood would arise. He’ll be busy on the computer with his English and French classes, frustrated that he can’t pronounce a certain word because his accent won’t allow it. His hand balled up in a fist, things come so easy to him, but this was just stumping him. He looks over at you, in your own little world as you read your magazine, laying on your tummy as your feet sway in the air, a small content smile on your face. You look so good right now, and honestly Juraj just needed you to make him feel good too.

“Hey pretty girl, why don’t you come over and keep me company while I do my work?” He smugly smiled as he patted his lap. You didn’t think twice about getting up, making your way over to him about to take a seat. Juraj stopped you before you could even turn to sit, “Aht aht, take those off. I want you to keep my cock warm.” Biting his lip, he watched as you shimmied out of your lounge shorts and panties, palming himself through his sweats before he pulled out his now hardening dick. I mean, how could he not when you looked so fucking cute obliging to what he tells you to with no contest. You were always so good for him. Without a second thought you straddled him, slowly sinking down on him with a soft moan. Juraj's hands make their way to your ass, pushing you down as far as you can go. He wants you to feel every single inch of him. As soon as you get nice and used to the stretch, you rest your head on his shoulder as Juraj recites French into your ear.

Arber~

Your sex life with Arber was, well, spicy. He was just too fucking good at fucking you, simple as that. It had got to the point where you were just oh so needy for him. It kind of made you a brat, so spoiled always getting it when you want. So Cock warming was a punishment.

"Pleeease baby?" You begged him. Arber had to finish signing some Canadiens memorabilia for a charity gala, and here you were, literally in front of him on your hands and knees begging him to be fucked.

"Y/N, what did I just tell you??" He asked, acting annoyed although he secretly thought it was cute how desperate you were for him.

"I know, but I just need you so bad right now," you pouted, your hands sneaking your way into his shorts. Even as he was acting like it was a nuisance, he let you pump his cock until it got hard enough.

"You need me that bad, huh? Knowing that I have to finish signing all of these by the end of the night? You're so impatient princess. I think I have to teach you a lesson in patience," he picked you up from your position, turning you around so you're bent over the desk. Roughly he pulls your pants and panties down and makes sure you're slick enough to push himself into you. Sitting back down in his chair, he pulls you down with him, the pressure making you squeal.

"You're going to sit here and keep me warm until I finish this. If you don't move and listen, I'll give you what you want. Move or try to ride me I'll yank you right off and you're going to bed unfucked. Got that princess?"

#starbabyg #starbabyg masterlist #juraj slafkovsky smut #juraj slafkovksy one shot #juraj slafkovsky fic #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky x reader #hockey smut #hockey fic #nhl smut #arber xhekaj smut #arber xhekaj fic #arber xhekaj imagine #starbabyg asks #starbabyg anon

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dairy-farmer · 4 months ago

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imagine this, right? i js got the idea. might not be the best one in the world, but here.

dick and tim have been married for anywhere around three years. tim’s twenty four at this time, dick’s thirty-one. their love life is incredible, sex life just as good. tim kisses him in the mornings. they go out every sunday. the batfamily’s come to accept it because they’re so in love. their honeymoon phase is literally their whole marriage.

��disgustingly in love,’ — jason.

‘dick has stooped so low,’ — damian.

‘please don’t make out on the couch,’ — duke.

they’re the kind of couple people hate, the bond that people want to have, and—

then dick cheats.

it wasn’t a good decision, but happened with this villain—‘and you know how the men in this family are with villains, tim, how the villains are with us. she was hot. and it had been going on for weeks. i refused until he didn’t. i tried, tim.’ dick doesn’t have a good excuse. tim’s out of his life within a week, divorce proceedings already starting.

it’s dick’s all time low. tim doesn’t even look at him. dick begs him to stay as he packs his bags. he says he’ll never do it again, it was a one-off occasion, but tim’s trust is like stained glass, so pretty when he has it, so devastating when it shatters.

tim’s friends despise dick. kon-el always challenges his authority on joint missions now. steph outright says the divorce was his fault and disinvited him from outings because it was still so fresh and tim would be there. wally and cassie give him looks and fall into whispers whenever he passes. jason jokes about it and has it in every low blow he can muster.

he still sees tim every other day, because of their careers, but tim avoids his patrol areas and bruce purposely sets them apart.

once or twice, bruce mentions how they should forget grudges on the job, but he can’t help it.

almost a year passes, and tim’s birthday happens. dick watches it happen from his phone, scrolling his socials, and breaks down. it’s a cycle of him wanting tim to feel as useless as dick without him, to him wishing the best, until he admits he wants nothing more than tim again and hates himself for losing that.

he buys him a gift that night. leaves it on tim’s usual work space in the batcave. that evening, he finds a sticky note on his door with the word “thanks.”

he places one on tim’s desk, so sure it’s him, giddy with the idea of them talking again, he writes back, “ur welcome.”

it should be the end. instead, dick finds a “how did u know i’d want this?” on his nightwing suit. he replies with, “because ur tim” and places it on the zesti can in the bundle, because tim takes one around this time, and always follows their placement.

“what does that mean” on dick’s shoes in the morning.

“u like collections” on a figurine tim left in the parlour.

“i know and i couldn’t even get my hands on this one” the inside of dick’s smoothie mix bottle.

“what? u can’t get ur hands on a simple superman figurine?” the side of the leg extension/curl machine in the home gym, timed before tim’s work out.

“there was only five of this one ever made.” the mirror in dick’s en-suite.

“and now u have one of them :)” tim’s degenerate energy dark chocolate bar container.

they go on like this for a couple weeks. start hanging around the manor that much more often to encounter their next note.

“did u see what she wore to the gala? (he forgot her name, so there’s a doodle of a woman with pronounced ears and a bad tiger print scarf crammed on the note)” “didn’t you wear five toed shoes to a gala?” “it wasn’t tiger print.”

“i love alfred’s cookies.” “ur sticky note has crumbs.” “don’t talk to me about sanitary stick notes, piss stain” “u could smell the apple juice stop with the piss allegations :(”

and so forth. eventually, dick musters the courage to talk to tim again. he says hi one night they cross paths on patrol. it’s the most awkward reaction he gets, silence, then a returned, ‘hi.’

the sticky notes stop.

dick hates himself for a total of three days before tim asks if he wants to work a case together. he hops on it fast.

they spend all night looking through it, figuring it out. it’s difficult. they spend the night after that to finish it. tim’s speaking to him again, a bit more like a friend, more sarcastically, and dick knew he couldn’t stay away forever.

a month later, and he might mention something of their past, hinting on it. dick hasn’t gotten over tim. ever. tim replies, in the kindest way possible something that translates to ‘we’re never getting back together.’

dick is heartbroken.

their interactions change as soon as tim is aware dick’s still into him. not in the way he distances, but in the way he talks to dick, leaning over his shoulders to show him new installations and software, holding his forearm time to time, casually, like his hand just slid there without thinking, and hanging an arm over his shoulder enough for dick to ask himself why.

dick once asks, while tim is dealing with a bad gash and he’s in daring spirits, ‘do you ever miss us?’

‘maybe,’ tim says, ‘i miss the other stuff.’

‘the other stuff?’

‘like, the sex.’

he realizes quite soon that tim’s ‘we’re never getting back together’ euphemism wasn’t a full sentence, or concept. he did say something else after, to further soften it, but dick stopped listening then. he mentioned he didn’t mind them being friends, something other with benefits, and it clicks then.

we’re never getting back together, but we can hook up if you want.

tim didn’t say that word for word, but it’s clear he meant that now.

dick wants the same relationship with tim he had then, beyond sex. they were better than sex. sure, the sex was incredible, tim felt so good for him, and remembering it now starts a craving in him that furthers when tim’s fingers brush along his skin.

‘i meant more than that.’

tim shrugs. dick should probe, keep trying to pry something out of him. but dick is a weak man when tim offers him something.

‘but that’s fine. i miss it, too.’

dick wishes he could take the betrayal back. he hasn’t touched anyone else since the divorce. it felt like cheating, seeing someone else, made him sick and he wasn’t in the hottest mood without tim around. but now tim is, for him, and he’ll take whatever he can get.

that’s how dick ends up with his ex-husband on top, insisting he does all the work because he just sterilized and bandaged his side, and it’s best he stays down. tim slips down him, and it’s been a while, such a long time dick is throbbing before tim even starts. he grabs his hips so hard, and can’t even thrust up before tim scolds him and breathily threatens to stop if he keeps writhing so much, that he needs to keep still if he wants this.

dick strains not to lift into tim, trembling beneath him, running hands along his smooth torso. so, so pretty.

tim’s thighs work, slapping onto his flesh, his cock dripping on dick’s abs. dick wants to sear his finger prints into his hips. to account for how he can’t thrust his hips without tim aggressively palming at his stomach, shoving him down or making him jerk down with pain, he manhandles tim by his hips, plunging him down on his cock. tim sings so lovely, hunching over. he tries to kiss tim when he hovers close enough for it to work, but tim rights his posture the last second, bouncing on dick’s cock and he loses his mind. he squeezes his hips one handedly, the one thing anchoring him, focusing his other on rounding tim’s cock and rubbing.

hair haloes his bowed head, his blue eyes dazed then shutting tight, pretty lips falling ajar in a gasp. dick swallows down the i love you clawing in the back of his throat, and comes after tim, spurred on by how he tightens, his trembling, and that look on his face. tim slips off of him, first checking the bandages for any bleeding, and relaxing when there’s none.

finally, they clean up, but it happens again. and again.

it’s good for the reason hook ups often are. better because tim knows him, knows what turns dick on, and where on his body causes tremors to race about his nerves. it hurts for the reason that’s all it is. hook ups. tim never kisses him during them or stays too long for after care before he finds something to do.

dick is still so in love. he can’t complain. but he wants something more. he can be casual with anyone else, but not his timmy.

however this ends im not sure but it was an idea i had ig.

!!!!!! dick being so desperate to take back what he did and to be able to have tim again but not being able to. the most he can get is the occasional hookup but even then tim still keeps his distance and does not treat dick affectionatly and doesn't act like them meeting is anything other than a hookup. i love the idea that when tim starts treating dick more civilly, maybe even nicely he gets so happy and exxcited that it might mean more only to deflate when tim tells him no again.

dick starts getting affectionate, starts reaching for tim because he thinks maybe because tim is nice to him now, that because tim talks to him, doesn't look at him with dead fish eyes that it means...more.

and then any hope dick feels collapses when tim holds his hands and starts softly talking like dick is a child. "just because i can work with you and just because i laugh with you and am nice to you, it doesn't mean i forgive you dick. it doesn't even mean i miss you,"

just dick always getting his hopes high and then having them knocked out from under him.

dick was always stuck in this cycle of relationships. cycling through the same partners again and again and after cheating on tim it ends. he never enters that cycle again. instead he enters a new one. one where he reads into tim's behavior and words thinking he has a chance again, building his hope up again. only for it to be dashed.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #dicktim

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cosmic-spider · 1 year ago

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Jax x mexican fem reader

He finds you accent funny( if you have one.) especially when you pronounce stores and other thing.

He finds it funny when you don’t remember the name of something and you just say agárra me el dese.(get me the thing) it makes him giggle a bit every time.

On the other hand, he does hate it whenever you take off your shoe and start hitting him with it. (He still doesn’t understand how a slipper or a shoe can become a lethal weapon in less than two seconds.)

He still doesn’t understand how you’re able to hit him perfectly on the head when he’s trying to run away from you before you hit him.( later on starts to ask you how to do it so you can hit other people from far away for a prank)

He loves it whenever you sing in your language either in front of the others, or even just by yourself in your room when you think no one is listening to you.( Not that he will ever tell you he dose)

He keeps your room key very close to him at all times in case he hears you start singing in your room by yourself so he can just come in and or peep through the door and listen to you sing.

I also find it fascinating on how many different ways you can dance just one song. Still doesn’t understand how you can move your feet so fast or so fluently especially your hips.

Almost ever fight the two of you have is just you getting pissed off of his jokes, and you cussing him out in Spanish, which were some reason Caine has not censored. Then him yelling at you saying “I don’t speak Taco Bell! “And then you just get pissed off and just start hitting him with your slippers/shoe.

He does love your cooking on the other hand not that he would actually tell you directly. Every now and then he’ll give a comment, saying it was good, or nice. Will eat through the pain of the spicy food. ( Will be drinking so much milk and water that he can find the moment he get out of you eyesight.)

Still doesn’t understand the nickname you call him by conejo morado.( purple bunny)

As a s/o

Loves it whenever you come to his defense and cuss whoever is bothering him. It warms is heart seeing you do that. You’re actually defending. He covered his face whenever you ask him if he’s OK since he’s blushing under the covered up part of his face with his hand.

Find that funny whenever something goes wrong on the dates that you make for the two of you.

Some of the stories about how you grow up and how your siblings active during parties in for piñata’s terrifying him.

Especially since he’s not a kid person. He could just imagine the horror trying to take care of kids that Literally run around and hit each other over candy that comes out of a piñata.( Wonders how you even survive that growing up)

Find the face smashing into birthday cake, tradition hilarious. Wants to try it on you until you told him the story where you literally gave your cousin a blackeye because of it.( things twice about ruining your birthdays now.)

Purposely does things to piss you off just so you can cause I’m out in Spanish he just stays there and looks at you with a smirk, face and flirts with you more to get your even more pissed off try to run away afterward, but gets hit in the head with a slipper.

Absolutely adores it whenever you make pan dulce (Mexican sweet breed.) Hid favorite is conchas, galletas, cono, y poquito with some coffee in the morning.

Finds the stories, you tell him about cookouts, funny and entertaining, especially on long and boring days that he has or when you tell him that someone got into a fight.

Both of you start drama and problems for the others. Then watch it on falls on the sidelines.

Is always impressed on how fast you can run whenever someone gets abstracted. ( like he’s a rabbit and he can run pretty fast, but damn, can you out run him any day)

Hates it whenever you start the cleaning ritual every Sunday or what you believe. It’s a Sunday.(especially when you start singing and blasting music out of nowhere, or when you go into his room, even though he had all the keys and other ways to get into his room.) Its his nightmare

#the amazing digital circus jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus #x reader #mexican #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc x reader #tadc

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earthry · 1 year ago

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✨ HC Request ✨ How would the Papas behave DURING their partners' pregnancies? 🥰

OOO I gotchu <3 thank you for the request!!

Here you go! I don’t think there are any warnings but there’s some spicy mention in Terzo’s

Primo

Loving and gentle with you, he’s always mindful of you and the baby. If you are not already married/committed/official that is one of the first things he will do. Also gets all of his affairs in order so that if he passes both you and his unborn child will be properly taken care of for the rest of your lives.

Has already started setting up the nursery, and will slowly but steadily work on it until the baby arrives. He paints the walls himself, soft colors decorated in wildflowers that take a very long time because he hand paints each petal, each stem. Sometimes you will stop by with a cup of tea for him and watch him work.

Holds you each night with your back against his chest and his hands caressing your swollen belly, kissing your temple and whispering about how excited he is for the baby to come, for the two of you to start a family.

Will adjust his own lifestyle to yours during your pregnancy; will give up alcohol and coffee for you.

Cooks for you everyday, homemade meals to keep your body and the baby strong and healthy.

Lazy days in the garden together talking about baby names and nursery plans.

Rubs your feet and back when they ache, always comforting you when you’re in pain. Patient no matter what even if you’re moody.

Secondo

He’s kind of out of his depth but you catch him with a stack of new parenthood and pregnancy books in his office. You also catch him talking with some of the much older sisters-in-sin that have kids for advice.

He’s the same at first; I imagine him as someone who’s into rough sex and dirty talking you a lot. But as he learns more from books and your doctor, he becomes more gentle and careful with you. Your lovemaking becomes this soft bonding experience, worshiping your body.

When the two of you started dating he cut down a lot of his partying and drinking. Now that you’re pregnant with his child, he stops almost completely. He rarely goes out now; stays home especially in the evenings so he can care for you and make sure you’re safe and loved.

Argues with you on baby names, likes complicated and hard to pronounce Italian names. You argue that Emeritus is already a mouthful and he gets slightly offended. Sulks about it.

Extra protective when you’re out, stays close and if anyone isn’t careful and accidently bumps or pushes you, they’re due for a very angry scolding in Italian. Sometimes you have to pull him away and give him lots of kisses to calm him down.

Terzo

Literally cannot keep his hands off your tummy. This man is obsessed. Both because he’s excited for the baby, but because he finds it unbearably hot that it’s his baby that’s inside you. He put that there. That’s his.

The first few months he’s practically intolerable, can’t get enough of you. It’s like he’s gotten even hornier and before you were pregnant he already had a practically insatiable sex drive. You complain to him and he has the decency to look sorry but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you into the closet the next time he sees you for a quickie.

Once you’re further along and your bump starts showing he still can’t keep his hands off you but he does calm down a little at your doctor’s orders. Even though your baby bump drives him crazy.

He loves cuddling with you in the evening and lazy mornings, resting his hands on your stomach, rubbing your belly and discussing things for when the baby comes. He calls your baby bump all sorts of things. Little peanut, gumdrop, cupcake, little sprout, button, etc.

The kind of dad that will talk to your belly constantly like his kid can hear him. Stage whispers like you can’t hear him too. “Did you hear that? Your mommy said no!” “Terzo I swear to satan— I am not changing my mind on this. We are NOT putting a ritual altar in the nursery.”

Copia

Definitely an anxious dad; constantly hovering even before your baby bump begins to show.

Won’t let you lift a single thing by yourself, which can be frustrating but he looks so worried that you usually let him get things for you anyways.

Goes with you to every single doctor appointment and holds your hand for comfort. The hand holding is more for his benefit though.

Worries if he’ll be a good dad, does his best to be a good role model. Constantly talks about “when the baby gets here—“.

Has to be stopped from banning everything you’re not allowed to consume during pregnancy like caffeine in the Abby.

Has his ghouls look after you when he can’t be with you— and every time he comes back there’s a cuddle pile around you.

The ghouls are like cats that get protective of their human when they get pregnant, they love being close to you and purring and cuddling with you.

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torialefay · 10 months ago

Text

🗡️ The Eaten Heart🍷

bangchan x fem!reader (smut) 🔞

〰️summary: chan loves you to death. no, literally, he would die pleasing you. a ritual to unite the two of you tries to keep you both satisfied.

〰️ warnings: intense emotional sex, ritual play, breath play, blood play, lowkey highkey sacrilegious, genuinely just imagine all the warnings possible bc this is literally ur fault now if u read it so don’t blame me 🦇

〰️author’s note: this work definitely contains sacrilegious elements. no disrespect was intended through this writing. please do not continue reading if this offends you.

〰️wc: 6.5k

〰️please god minors DNI!!! 🔞

〰️check out my masterlist if you want to see more!

———————————————————

“Are you ready, my love?” Chan held out his hand, waiting calmly for you to take ahold of it. The black button up he had been wearing was now rolled up to his elbows. You noticed the tiny outline of a packet resting in the chest pocket.

“Always.” You gently took hold of his hand, as he began to lead you down the corridor and opened the black, heavy vaulted door at the end. Opening it slowly revealed the the narrowed, twisting set of steps that resided inside. No matter how many times you’d seen this view, the daunting beauty of it in all of its darkness, you were always overwhelmed at the sullen energy that was trapped inside.

The usual paleness of Chan’s skin now turned slightly warmer as he took a step inside to be illuminated by the seeping black candles held on the wall sconces. They gave warmth to a tiny path, leading up the dark stairs.

Holding tightly to your grip once more, Chan began to slowly ascend the steps, one level at a time. He paused carefully between each step, making sure that the fabric of the long, pillowy, dark wine-colored chiffon dress you were holding wasn’t hindering you in any way. You each took your time, enjoying the dual thrill and serenity of this moment together. Both knowing full well what you were about to do. The gentle ascension also allowed more time for you to study Chan’s face. The lust in his eyes was almost incomparable. The usually chirp nature of his personality all but gone. These moments with you were taken seriously by him. This was, for both of you, the time that you could fully be with each other- blocked out from the rest of the world and its mundane superficiality. In this world, it was just the two of you.

Greeted now by the last step, Chan used both hands to hold tightly to your arm, making sure that you were secure in the final and largest step in the series. Once you were settled on the steady floor, he took advantage of his grip to lovingly pull you closer, bringing your hand to his chest and resting it over his beating heart. The beats were so strong, so pronounced, that you could feel it rippling through his entire body.

“I want to feel you fully tonight. Okay?” he questioned, leaning his forehead down to touch yours. ‘My beautiful, beautiful girl,’ he thought.

You looked up at him, gently bringing your other hand to cup the side of his face. “Of course, my love. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” You went in for a short, sweet kiss before pulling away. Suddenly, Chan forced your hand down, off of his chest, rotating your arm until you repositioned your body to face forward.

One hand intertwined with his, the other now latching onto his bicep, you followed just behind him as he led you farther into the beautiful, almost ominous room. It was taunting in a way.

You always got nervous at this point. Nerves, butterflies, what have you. It didn’t matter how many times you’d gone through this with Chan, each ritual brought on new emotions, so overwhelming that you felt totally and completely consumed. ‘That is the point,’ you reminded yourself. ‘And ultimately, there is no better feeling in the world.’

You made a mental note of Chan’s expression- stoic and unwavering. His eyes were set only on the stained-glass window ahead. Much like him, and now much like you, the glass was adorned only in various shades of blacks, greys, and the occasional white. It let in the faintest beams of light, which was the only source of illumination excluding three white candles, not yet lit, sitting to the side of the window sill.

Now seeing Chan with the streaks of moonlight shining down on his face, you had reached the edge of the room. You both stood there for a moment, basking in the beauty shining out in front of you before turning to each other, Chan now taking both of your hands into his.

The love in your eyes while looking at Chan could not be hidden in the room. It sparked his heart up every time he saw the faintest reminder of it. His eyes trailed down to your lips- perfect and bare for him, as you’d known to do by this point. He saw you for your raw nature. For the humanness that you possessed, only a vessel to contain your inescapable soul. It wasn’t as if Chan wanted this, nor that he needed this. You were simply his fate. THIS was simply his fate. You had full control over him and he over you because you were one. Together, you made one full person.

He turned his head toward the window to face the moon in all its solemnity. You were always in his stars. The two bodies were simply one.

‘I can’t believe the luck I’ve been given in this life,’ he thought.

Piercing his eyes into yours, he began. “You are my one true love and my soul eternal. Nothing will ever be a part of me as much as you. Isn’t that right?”

Your head spun into his words, locking in every syllable. “That’s right, my love.”

“And I am your one true love and your soul eternal. Nothing will ever be a part of you as much as me. Is that correct?”

“Of course, my love,” you whispered, getting closer to his mouth. You came tantilizingly close, just lingering over his lips with a slight smirk. You knew what you were doing to him. You felt it every time in the way that his heart started to once again beat out of his chest. You took your hand from his, slowly, working your way onto his sculptured torso. You used two fingers to start walking up toward his chest, smiling at him daringly as you went. ‘I know this is driving you crazy, darling,’ you thought to yourself.

You stopped your fingers just over the spot you could feel his heart beating the strongest. You left them there for a second, lightly scratching the skin residing overtop with the tips of your nails. You contemplated for a moment, then proceeded to lunge your nails slightly into him, scratching down to leave deep red marks.

Chan hissed, leaning his head back. He allowed himself to fully feel the sting of your touch. The things you made him feel were like none other. He felt himself hardening underneath his black pants. Bringing his head back up slowly, he was met with your sensual gaze, smirk mocking him spread across your face. ‘Stop being such a fucking tease,’ he thought to himself, intense desire now building up.

He ran his tongue along his teeth, letting it out with a pop. Smiling down at you now, he leaned closer and whispered, “Then let’s play. Let’s worship.”

He suddenly grabbed the top of your dress and ripped downward, pulling the light chiffon apart as if it were never there to begin with. ‘Just like l wanted,’ he thought as he looked to your fully naked chest with no garments over top. He bent down to the level of the rip, continuing his force onto it. Eye level with your breasts, he bit down hard, getting a soft screech from you.

He smiled, obviously loving the reaction and kept working his way down.

*Rip. A bite into your stomach.

*Rip. A bite into your thigh.

*Rip. A bite into the side of your leg.

*Rip. A bite over the top of your foot.

He quickly took the dark fabric of the dress and threw it onto the alcove under the window. Now bent down onto one knee, he took one of your hands into both of his, kissing the top of it ever so slowly, then fully rotating to place a kiss into your palm. He lingered there more just a moment, pressing your hand onto his face to smell the sweetness of your skin. God how he wanted to consume you.

He kissed up the rest of your arm as he worked his way back up to standing. He slowly walked you back until your knees were resting against the alcove. In a swift motion, he pushed you back into the soft padding of the dress, just quickly enough to make you lose your footing but gently enough to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt and hit the three candles placed along the window.

‘My princess, so fucking beautiful for me,’ he thought, staring down at you. ‘This is all mine. I will have all of you.’ He launched himself down on top of you, throwing one of your legs around his waist as he leaned down to plant a hungry kiss to your mouth. He was straight to the point, biting onto you and swirling his tongue around yours. He began rutting his hips into you, taking full charge. He rubbed them up and down quickly, not giving you time to ease into anything. You could feel yourself growing wetter along the material of his pants. The way he put just the right amount of pressure, focusing it right along your clit, was almost too much to handle so rapidly. His body was so in tuned to yours, it was second nature. He continued to grind, unrelenting until a long moan escaped your mouth.

“Yes baby, that’s right. Keep going for me,” he instructed, unlatching his lips only long enough to get the words out. He was right back on them as quickly as he’d pulled off. As he steadily pushed his hips into you, he forced his tongue down into your throat, almost making you choke. He made deep strokes now, matching up his tongue movements to the thrusts of his hips.

You tried to let out more moans, but they were blocked. The vibrations that Chan felt on his tongue from it sent him into overdrive. He brought his hand up, sloppily pushing it into your face, then using two fingers to push into your mouth and join his tongue in your throat.

You gagged around the pressure. You couldn’t help it. You almost felt yourself suffocating underneath him.

“That’s right, so fucking beautiful for me. I know you can take it,” he spat out, eyes locked onto your every reaction.

You continued to choke while moaning and whining for air. You slowly tried to get deep breaths in and out of your nose, but they were far and few between. The combination of the clit stimulation and the aggressive strokes down your mouth overwhelmed you in the deepest sense of the word. You felt yourself losing oxygen, slowly letting your brain go fuzzy. You let out small tears and started to full-on scream. Muffled screams of course. At first, Chan couldn’t make it out. He reveled in the fact that he had full control over your body. Full control over your life at this point.

“Chris!!!” He felt you vibrate across his fingers. He quickly pulled his tongue and fingers out of your mouth, letting you choke and gasp for air. Tears were still streaming from your eyes, and Chris was sure this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

You couldn’t help but continue to cry as you felt the oxygen rush back into your brain, helping you to finally feel alive again. Tears and tears and tears started flooding off of you.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl,” he cooed into you, still motioning his hips against your clit. “I’m so so proud of you,” he smiled. “But now,” he lifted his face up over top of yours- “Now, I need you to let go and come for me. You can do that for me, can’t you baby?” His eyes locked onto yours. You could barely see his face from the water covering your vision, but you went through with nodding your head as the breaths now came easier.

You focused on the deep strokes he was making on top of you, feeling your clit become engorged from how perfectly he was hitting you. You leaned your head back, mouthing “Fuck” as best as you could. Chan must have liked the reaction, as he pushed himself even harder into you, his thigh now adding more pressure. You were sure you couldn’t contain yourself much longer.

You gazed up to see Chan’s face hanging right over yours, watching intently as your began to writhe underneath him. He loved the power. He loved the thought of controlling the most vulnerable part of you. He looked like he wanted to fucking eat you.

You continued to focus on his face as the warm feeling of release started to come over you. Chan knew it too. He smirked, leaning down again to be closer to your face.

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he laughed, grinding as hard as he possibly could.

That was it. It sent you over the edge.

You felt your body start to convulse around you, desperately grappling for a bit of the dress fabric to hold onto while you rode it out. A zap went into your brain, healing any residual loss of oxygen that could have been felt. Chris smiled into your neck, then took both arms to hold your own down. He held your body down with his own, making you continue to take his hips grinding into you.

You were officially overstimulated, not able to fight back under Chan’s body weight. You cried, “Chris, Chris stop. I’m done. I’m done. Holy shit,” you cried, feeling another bolt shoot down your legs. “Ahh! I’m done!” You started panting, trying to catch your breath as quickly as you could as Chan lifted himself off of you slowly. The smile on his face quickly tilted down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I knew you could do it.” He continued to press kisses along the entirety of your face until your breathing started to normalize. Once you had calmed down. He took your hand in his and planted slow kisses into the side of your neck. He pulled back up to wipe a few leftover tears before smiling down. “Time to offer our bodies, yeah?” he spoke gently.

You nodded with a deep breath out and a look of determination and slight excitement on your face.

Chan raised his body over yours, then leaned down to cup your back and help you raise up. He stepped off of the platform to remove his pants and unbutton his top, grabbing a few small items from the pocket before removing it fully. You watched as he let the clothes hit the floor and leaned over your body to set the items gently behind one of the three candles resting beside you.

He twisted your body around with his arms so he could now sit down, taking the placement you once had. “Ready?”, he asked, reaching up to laze his hand along the back of your neck.

You didn’t bother replying. Slowly, you crawled on top of his lap, running your hands into his hair, settling to rest over each side of his head for stability. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his hardened cock, making sure to take it inch by inch. His hands slowly trailed from your neck and down your back, until he was holding just above your waist. He breathed heavily as you lowered yourself onto him, letting out a small hiss each time you moved.

Moving his eyes up, he watched your face as you took in more of him. The way you scrunched your eyes at the light but delicious pain of having him inside of you. ‘All fucking mine now,’ he thought, letting his head roll back as you had fully taken him in. He gyrated his hips the slightest bit to feel around inside of you. How tight you were for him and how he filled you up all the way to your cervix.

“Time for worship,” he breathed out.

He smoothly swiped his hands along and off of your body to reach for one of the items hidden behind a candle. A small lighter rested softly in his hand. He made quick work to bring it back in front of you, right between each of your face. He looked into your eyes for permission before lighting it. A small, warm, meaningful flame sparked up as he dragged his thumb across it. He smiled at you lovingly, ready for what was about to begin.

“The body, the blood, and the spirit,” he whispered into the flame. The words moved past the flame to hit your own lips, sending a cool rush into your body.

You moved closer to the glowing burn. You stared first at it, then down to Chan’s lips.

You repeated after him. “The body, the blood, and the spirit.” You looked at each other, silently counting down before taking a deep breath to simultaneously blow out the flame. You smiled into each other, reciprocally grabbing faces for a quick kiss. This one was full of passion- unlike any kiss you’d had before.

Chan suddenly pulled away, carefully guiding the lighter up and away from the both of you. He extended both arms as far as they could reach, stabilizing with one hand and pushing into the lighter with the other.

With that, he lit the first candle:

“The Body”

Returning his attention back to you, he let himself take a moment to memorize the feeling of being inside of you. How wet you were for him and how tense you felt around him. How you contoured yourself perfectly around him, letting him fill you up like a mould.

“This pussy was made for me. Only me,” he breathed out, slipping his hands down to your waist. He started massaging your waist back and forth, slowly at first to warm himself up inside of you. He was gentle, but started picking up speed steadily.

“Come down here, I need to feel you,” he instructed, moving his hands up to your back and pulling your body down on top of his. Sitting now, chest to chest, you wrapped your hands around his neck as you continued to ride him, slowly, back and forth. You kept pulling his body closer as you picked up the pace. Your arms now completely crossed over each other with your face in the crook of his neck.

Chan took the opportunity to relax his head back a little, just enjoying the feeling of you giving into him. He turned his head to the side, planting kisses from the top to the bottom of your neck. You felt yourself gasp once he had gotten to the end.

He bit down. Hard. ‘Fuck,’ you thought. He continued relentlessly biting in. He wouldn’t let you out of his bite. Your first instinct was to start moving faster on top of him, almost ballistically as if to pull away. But he wasn’t having it.

He gripped onto your hips now, pushing and pulling you quickly around him. He didn’t bother with being gentle anymore. He would make sure you had marks on both your neck and hips by the time this was done.

With his teeth sunken in as far are they could go, he swirled his tongue around the fresh-forming bruise. He quickly took a harsh handful of your ass, hauling it backward and forward, backward and forward.

“Chrissss,” you hissed out, not knowing how else to express yourself in this moment. “Fuck,” you let your head roll down. “Chris holy shit.”

He finally pulled off of your neck. “Say my name again,” he gritted.

“Fuckkk, Chris,” was all you could manage to get out, breath getting heavy.

“Louder.” He was violently moving your hips now, adding sloppy thrusts where he was able. He stared into you, looking animalistic.

“Christopher, please!” You breathed out hard now. You weren’t going to be able to take much more of this.

“I SAID LOUDER. FUCKING YELL FOR ME.”

“CHRISTOPHER BANG HOLY SHIT. PLEASE GOD,” you now yelled out as loud as you could. You just needed him to finish you.

He smirked up at you, loving the sight of what he’d done to you. You’d do anything for him and he knew it. Any. Fucking. Thing. He could and would make you do anything he said. And he would do anything for you. This moment is how it was supposed to be forever.

“God?,” he tauntingly laughed. “No baby, I am your god. I am all you will ever fucking need,” he barked out through gritted teeth. One hand had moved up to grab your hair as the other kept slamming your ass into him.

“You will worship me the same that I will worship you.” He was yelling at this point. Suddenly, he laid his body back on the ground, pulling you down with him. Your face now only an inch from his.

He looked deeply into your eyes and grinned. “Now you better pray to me that I don’t destroy you.”

His hand in your hair now pulled all the way back, lifting your head up to the sky. His grip on you didn’t fade, but he stopped pushing you and instead started ramming his cock into you as quickly as he could. He was relentless, pushing deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t even describe the pleasure mixed with the pain.

“Christopher, OH MY GOD. Fuck.. fuck.. FUCK!” you yelled at the sky. A smirk came across his face at the sight of you looking up. Looking like you were praying to him.

‘My good fucking girl,’ he thought. ‘It’s just me and you now.’

He kept thrusting harder and harder, until you thought for sure something inside of you was going to rip. You felt like everything inside of you was being shifted. He was rearranging you from the inside out.

“You’re going to fucking rearrange me, Christopher,” you spat out, about to begin crying again.

“See,” he grabbed your hair even tighter, bringing the first tear out. “I’m making you into my own perfect creation.” He bucked his hips into you three more times, each leaving you feeling breathless and helpless.

Suddenly, he stopped. He dropped his grip on your hair, letting your head fall softly to his chest. You could hear his heart going a million miles an hour. He put his hand over top of yours to feel it doing the same.

As much as you needed the release, you knew neither of you could have it yet. That’s not how this worked. You had to be patient.

As you moved one hand to gently hold the side of his face, he moved his free arm around your back as he sat up again. The moonlight surrounding you showed the sweat along his forehead and hairline, only making him look sexier.

He quietly reached over yet again for the lighter and to grasp onto another candle. He swiftly made a motion over top of it to turn the pure white wick into a newly charing flame. Before turning to face you he grabbed the other item he had previously thrown down. A small silver dagger adorned with beautiful carving into the handle.

There it was, seemingly quicker than the times before. The lighting of the second candle.

“The Blood”

Chan gripped tightly to the knife and gently placed it in your hand, being careful not to let it hurt you. He looked in your eyes as if to wait for your nod of approval. You were always a little scared, yes, but you wanted this more than anything in the world. The feeling was indescribable. To pledge your loyalty to him and him to you.

You firmly grasped the dagger into your hand. Chan felt along your chest, resting his palm over top of where your heart laid. He delicately clasped his other hand on top of yours, leading the knife to the area above your chest. He softly removed his marking hand to expose your skin underneath.

Ever so slowly, he led your hand down, along with the knife until the tip was grazing the top of your skin. He made sure to directly line it up over the top of your heart. Each breath you took made it prod the tiniest bit into you.

“You’re mine, my love,” he held the hand tightly and leaned forward to kiss you forehead. When he pulled back, he looked directly into you and squeezed your hand. A signal to begin.

His had hovered over top of yours as you started to move the knife painstakingly slow, just deep enough so that it would penetrate your skin. As soon as you felt it make the first scratch, you winced a tiny bit at the pain. It was by no means unbearable. Just enough to make you notice the uncomfortability of it all.

Chris stared at your hand, still resting his own gently over top as you moved. Your eyes shut, and you breathed out heavily, focusing all of your effort into your hand. You slowly moved it, little by little, leaving a shallow imprint across the skin. You swooped it down, following a steady curve until it could be brought back up.

Chris smiled, knowing you were done. He took a tighter grip on the knife, pulling it back to reveal your handiwork.

There, now carved into you, a lone letter “C”. A few drops of blood were trickling down.

All Chris could do was grin, leaning his face in to plant a small kiss in the middle of the “C”, making sure not to ruin the tiny bit of blood that had been let out.

He softly grabbed the knife out of your hand and held it with his own. He motioned with his eyes down to his chest, cueing you to find where his heartbeat was strongest. Once you settled your palm against his skin, he extended the dagger slowly for you to grab over top of where his fist was holding it.

You easily took it. Not hard, but barely resting over top.

He put a smirk on his face before bringing the knife down to where your hand lay. You slowly removed it, losing contact with the pulse of the heart beating below. He made quick work to push the knife into his chest, definitely with more power and aggression, deeper than what you had done.

Your instinct was to pull his hand back, but to no avail. He was gripping at the knife too tightly for your touch to do anything.

“This is good, baby,” he assured you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before stabilizing your hand over his one again. You followed along with the curve of his hand, as you watched him carve your initial into his skin.

He had gone so much deeper, blood was trickling down fast. Not enough to be worried, but enough to silently think he was crazy. Crazy for you.

Once he reached the last stroke of your initial, you went to take your hand off of his. Instead of pulling back, he gently pushed in on the knife a little deeper, almost solidifying the engraving into his chest.

“Stop it Chan!” you screamed, returning your hand to his, to try and slowly back it up. You struggled, but he didn’t give in. He looked you dead in the face. His eyes were black now. It was as if something otherworldly had taken over him.

He didn’t respond, just held the knife in place, using his other hand to reach up and grab your face. He left a few gentle strokes along your cheek before settling into your hair, smirk wide across his face.

“Give me a kiss first,” he whispered.

“No Christopher! You’re too deep! Take it out right now!” you yelled, truly worried. You grasped his hand even tighter, trying to tug on it. To no avail. He was staying there if it was the last thing he did.

By the look on his face, you knew you’d set him off. His nostrils started to flare and he eyed you down. His jaw locked in place so tightly you thought he’d never be able to open it again.

“I want to give you my heart, y/n,” he spoke initially. “I want to give you my fucking heart,” his tone raised, face visibly mad. “I want to fucking rip it out right now for you to have!” he finally started screaming. “It’s yours anyway. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to you goddamn it, now fucking take it!” he yelled at you, his hot breath hitting you in the face. He could say what he wanted, but he was in pain. You gave him a few seconds to calm himself.

You leaned down to return to him what he’d done to you prior. You whispered in a low breath “No,” before kissing his forehead. You pulled back to rest your face on the same plane as his, only inches apart. You grasped his hand over top of the knife. “Not today, my love. Today, I need you here with me. And I need you here to be a part of me.” You kissed his cheek.

You could feel his hand relax a little, and you let yours tighten. Going as slowly as possible, he allowed you to remove the dagger, a quarter of a centimeter at a time. You both looked down as it inched out, admiring the perfect initial he had carved. A few areas streamed blood down them, but nothing more than he’d had before. Once the knife was fully out, he gently held it in front of him, covered in blood that ran down the palm of his hand. Your hand still around his felt the tiny trickles of blood onto it too.

He slowly let you direct the knife back to your own skin. You rested it just along your own engravement, making sure to get the small amount of your blood from your chest and onto each side of the knife.

You both looked intently as you guided the knife back to the center and handed it off to Chan. You slid your hand down to grasp onto and stabilize his wrist.

You both sat for a minute, looking at each other like you weren’t sure who should start. Chan leaned in leisurely, bringing his face down to the the level of the knife. He stuck his tongue out to bring it straight down, along the middle of the blade. As he pulled back, he closed his mouth and licked his lips- a shade of red now covering them.

You mirrored his example and gently took a swipe of blood in your mouth. You never really got used to it- the taste of the iron. But knowing that it was now mixed blood, that of you and your soulmate, you cherished every last drop.

Chan placed the dagger back behind the candle before leaning in to steal a quick kiss. Your mouths were now wet with each other, but in the most perfect way. A tiny part of him, even if just a cell, would now live in you. It made you just that bit perfect, but that was enough for you.

It was not enough for Chan. He needed to devour you in every sense. ‘It’s time to finish you,’ he thought.

He rushed to find the lighter again, scrambling his blood-covered thumb over the top to light it up.

The lighting of the third candle.

“The Spirit”

He quickly wiped the blood of his hands off onto the remainder of the dress lying beneath him. He laid you down again onto your back, throwing your legs over his lower back as he went. He made sure to press his chest all the way down into you, letting your blood intermingle and soak into the initial he had so happy etched into himself.

He looked at you in adoration. ‘God this man.’ He made you feel so loved. So seen. How could this gentle being be the same man who was ramming into you 10 minutes ago? The man that was fully insistent on ripping his heart out to present to you because nothing else could fulfill his need to give you himself? This man loved you. In the full sense of the word. He would die for you. He would sacrifice his own soul to save yours. He would crawl through the depths of hell if he knew it would keep you safe. Chan was the only person you would ever need, and he made sure you knew that.

“It might feel tight, baby,” he whispered, laying his head down into your hair, right beside your neck. He slowly let his length move inside of you. He proceeded slowly, only pushing in slightly more when he felt you relax around him.

Once you had fully adjusted, he began with slow, loving strokes. You suddenly felt warm with this fullness inside of you. Like this is what you had been missing all along. And with it, you were finally whole.

Chan felt the same way, and he made it known to you.

“You feel so good baby,” he whispered into your ear. “My match made in heaven.” He kissed your ear. He continued slowly, making sure to rub along the outside of you.

He let his hands wonder down until they were pressing into the bottom of your stomach. You could feel so much more with the new pressure. You felt every inch of him slowly pulling into and out of you. Every stroke felt like it reached a deeper part. He angled his body slightly lower so that he could angle himself up into you. Right to the sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, smile shining on your face. “Fuck baby, that felt good.” You let your head relax back.

“Yeah?” he asked, hovering his face over yours. He didn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face.

“Yes, Channie,” you smiled again, taking a sharp breath in.

‘God that fucking nickname’ he thought. His heart turned into putty every time you used it. ‘So soft and so gentle for me… For Channie.’ He smiled, using one hand to stroke along the top of your head, maintaining the pressure on your stomach with the other.

He thrust into you harder now. Not necessarily faster, but using more force. The look on your face was all the reassurance he needed to keep it up.

He watched how your mouth dropped open, like you watched to scream something out but you couldn’t. How your eyes squeezed shut to focus on the feeling he was giving you. How your breathing started to pick up the more that he moved.

Feeling himself inside you got him hard, yes. But watching you- with all of your perfection- loving the way that he made love to you, got him rock hard. Suddenly, his tip became more sensitive. It crept and crept up until it started to drive him wild.

He started to place sloppy kisses along your mouth as he slammed his hips in. He kept a steady pace, just enough to keep your heart rate up.

You moaned as his hand pressed even harder into you. You could feel his cock hitting up and into the palm of his hand. Time and time again, you felt him hit into just the right spot to make your toes curl. Everything in your body froze up, then went warm. He kept going and going until it was going to send you over the edge.

“Channie?” you whined, breathing heavily through your mouth.

“Yes, my love?” He detached himself from your face to look at you. God, he could get off by looking at that face alone.

He smirked. “Does my baby need to cum?”

“Fuck yes,” you said, reaching around his neck to bring his lips down to yours. You felt like you were being elevated from your body.

No, resurrected.

Chan was going to bring you back to life.

Hard, stiff thrusts now poured out of him uncontrollably.

His breathing quickened too all of a sudden. He let out a sharp moan.

“Ughhh,” he drew a breath in. His voice was shaking. “I’m going to cum baby. Cum with me, yeah? Let’s tie ourself together now, okay?” He could hardly get his words out.

You knew he was barely holding on. So vulnerable for you.

Swiftly, he released the pressure off your stomach, making you gasp at the sudden loss of weight. Instead, he brought his hand down to your clit, and rubbed light circles. He went just in tune with the thrusts, throwing you over the edge.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” you screamed out, feeling the beginning of the orgasm take over your entire body.

That’s all Chan needed. He took long thrusts to push himself over the edge with you. He shut his eyes tight, picturing just your face, your soul, holding his heart.

No, EATING his heart. It's all he could ever ask for and you would be the one to give it to him.

“TAKE.” Thrust.

“IT.” Thrust.

“ALL.” Thrust.

“UGHHH,” he yelled out, throwing himself into you with the most force you’d felt all night.

Your vision went white, jolts being sent through your body in every direction. Your body stiffened, head throwing itself back and body arching up off the ground. You felt Chan’s cock twitch inside of you, followed by a warm feeling that almost filled you more than you could take.

He continued to give you a few more wild thrusts. He bit down onto your ear. “Take it baby. Take my spirit and give me yours.”

Your body let out one final jolt before Chan slowed down and grabbed your face, cupping it in both hands.

You kissed him like you’d never tasted him before. Like everything about him was new and you were ready to explore.

You had just dedicated your entire being to him, but everything felt so irrepressible in this moment.

As he brought himself to a complete stop, he pulled his face from yours, panting. He decided to lay there for a few moments, letting himself rest inside you. It only felt natural to be this close to you. To finally feel like he could be a part of you.

His eyes fell down to your chest underneath him- both of you stained from the dark red show of your love for each other.

He made sure you were looking at him. He wanted itnto be a show. He then took the palm of his hand to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss. He placed the hand over your heart, where his initial had been etched in.

“I’ll always be with you, yeah?” he smiled down.

“Always and forever, my Channie.”

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