Kento Loves His Day Offs. Not Only Because He Gets To Spend Time With You, But Also Because He Gets Pampered...

GOT ME LOOKING FOR: attention!

synopsis: how they each deal with feeling jealous & wanting your attention <3

ft. yukimiya kenyū, kurona ranze, karasu tabito, alexis ness, isagi yōichi, aiku oliver, itoshi rin

content warning: minor spoilers for yukimiya’s + rin’s backstories, my own interpretations of the boys so it may not be accurate but who cares, not proofread (bc when do i ever do that!)

— gn! reader, implied established relationship, pining!!, comfort hurt :(

(a/n): as much as i love hype boy, i adore attention even more <3 pls stan newjeans, they’re amazing!! this one isn’t really lyrically based like my other post but! it’s kind of similar, no? ALSO I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE A LOT MORE LIGHTHEARTED,,

(🏷) — tags! @effulgentfireflies <3

YUKIMIYA KENYŪ

yukimiya is not a pacifist. it’s almost ludicrous, to the extent of amusement even, when he does claim to be one— because he, himself, knows more than anyone else that he’s anything but that. 

if anything, he’s more of a warmonger because behind the pacifier prince-like façade he rigorously maintains, he masks his imperfections, the traits that make him nothing more than human. the despondencies, unpleasantness, insecurities, and frustrations that all make him human.

more often, he’s reminded of the impermanence of his existence— his mortality, the flaws in his mortal body. and it makes him angry. 

it’s unfair, he thinks— yukimiya had almost everything in his hands until he didn’t. on the day he found out about his deteriorating vision, all the dreams, aspirations, and ambitions all slip from his desperate grip through the gaps of his fingers as if he’s trying to grasp onto the water.

he hates how human he is. the psychological and physiological flaws that come with being human. he hates it.

when he catches sight of your uneasy body language as the waiter makes excruciating attempts of flirting with you while he is away in the bathroom, he sees the rigidness in your posture, your glance averting to anywhere else in the restaurant beside the waiter. all visible signs of your uneased disposition. when he experiences the familiar dreadful feeling that fuels through his veins, depriving his throat of the oxygen it needs— yukimiya is reminded of his ugliness.

“hello love,” the football player’s broad arms wrapped themselves around your waist, his head perched on top of your shoulders as he offers a tenacious smile to the mortified waiter. “are you being bothered right now?” his grip tightens itself around your waist, gaze still digging daggers into the poor man.

“don’t you think it’s impolite of you to talk to someone when you can see that you’re making them uncomfortable? i’ll need to discuss with the management about how their personnel staff treats their guests.” with yukimiya’s hanging threat in the air, the waiter makes haste in his leave. he scurries away like a wounded animal in fear of riling up the bespeckled boy’s anger further.

how ugly of him, he thinks to himself. yukimiya doesn’t let go of his firm grip on you and maintains a prolonged frown before you erupt into a fit of careless laughter.

“what are you laughing for, dear?”

“kenyū, have i ever told you how gorgeous you look even when you’re threatening someone? i love you so much.”

to you, his ugliness didn’t matter because you saw it as something beautiful. the lingering effects of the ugliness and the unpleasantry that comes with his insecurities slowly dissipate as his heart warms. a lighter euphoric-like feeling takes place in his chest.

“i love you, too.”

Seguir leyendo

おやすみ 😴

FUELED APOLOGY ☾

angry sex w mma toji, minutes before a match

tags — heavy nsfw, locker room sex, slight exhibitionism (they can def hear), angry toji, marked upp, dumbification, spit kink, cum dump, fingering, locker room sex, soft toji, apologetic toji, biting, unprotected,

the silent treatment was probably the single most annoying thing you could possibly do to toji. he’ll take anything else, yelling, screaming, hitting, kicking… just acknowledge him. but when you’re dead silent, blank stare; pretending he doesn’t even exist! now that makes him feel like shit…

he couldn’t even grasp the depths of your anger, until you began giving him the cold shoulder.

“you can’t answer a text anymore?” he’s leaning over the couch, eye bags dark and heavy, considering he stayed up all night waiting for you to come back home.

you don’t even look at him. you’re just taking off your shoes and padding your way to the bedroom. the door slamming shut. even when he slides under the covers, completely exhausted, his fingers grazing your arm filled with goosebumps, you slide further away.

“stop acting like a child—“ he honestly should’ve kept his mouth shut, next thing he knows, you were grabbing a pillow and dragging your feet down to the living room. he groans into the covers.

it didn’t matter that he’d come down after a few minutes. his fingers brushing your cheek before gently scooping you into his arms and carrying back into bed. his lips brushing your cheek in your deep sleep, so he can doze off beside you. finally able to sleep.

yet the morning would come and you’d be gone again, until he’s staying up again, waiting for you.

“seriously?” he immediately follows you into the bedroom as you ignore his greeting. “I fucking get it, now will you talk to me? I know you’re pissed, so just fucking give it to me!” his chest was boiling as he watched you pull off your clothes, stepping into the shower.

he sat quietly on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, resting his head back as he watched you shower through the steamed glass. his mind was shutting down, he didn’t like fighting with you. he knew he had a temper, and he could be stubborn, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything for you!

his eyes fluttered open hearing you step out of the shower. rubbing his eyes, gaze set on your movements, his following the water droplets slide down the small of your back. the pretty way your nipples start to perk from the change in temperature.

you had to swallow your own love in order to walk past the tired man. he’s been overworking himself these past couple of weeks in order to get in shape for this upcoming match. you wanted to do your best to support him.

you hated seeing him so stressed all the time. but when you decided to try and help him when he was out training on the beach with his team, sprinting from one end to the other. you wanted him to know that you were there for him. even though you were busy with your uni classes and stressed from your own shit, you didn’t want toji to think he was alone.

so you brought your work to the beach, as he trained. was it really support when you’re laughing and chatting and letting every guy known to man, hit on you?! the emperor of mma wasn’t insecure. he knew you’d never do anything. yet, it still sent his blood sizzling, upset that you came here, all for you to start talking to these men—

“y/n!” the sudden shout of your name had your ears perking up, eyes shifting to the broad shouldered man, heaving by the ocean. you didn’t hesitate to grab the energy drink, happy that you can finally help as you sprinted to your boyfriend.

“how’s training? i was getting worried since you haven’t taken a break in so long—“

“what’re you doing?” the cut in his sentence had your brows pinching, still waiting for him to take the drink from your hands.

“nothing? was just waiting for yo—“

“nothing?” he repeats, his green eyes were as dark as the night forest.

“um…” you itch your cheek awkwardly. “i think you’re tired, I also brought some protein bars and sandwiches. just eat one—“

“go home,” he takes the drink from your hand. your eyes shift to his.

“I’ll leave in a couple minutes, I’m just—“

“I don’t wanna fucking see you right now. you’re distracting me, and it’s not helping!” he couldn’t make excuses. was it his fault? he was tired, and you were distracting, laughing and chatting away with these strangers—

“i didn’t mean to distract you. I came to—“

“I didn’t ask. so thanks, but you can leave now,” toji turns away from you, handing back the drink. “text me when you get ho—“ he glances over his shoulder to see you already grabbing your things and leaving.

he was praying that he didn’t fuck this up. especially when he didn’t get a text from you, of course he had to spam your phone with messages asking if you got home safely. was it a relief when he came home to see you already asleep?

“y/n?” his voice is low as he kneels beside the bed, palm gently holding your cute face. so soft. your eyes slowly open, brows pinched as you look at him. “why didn’t you text me?”

“didn’t wanna be a distraction,” your words laced with tired sarcasm.

toji drops his head, letting out a sigh. “seriously?”

“seriously, what?” you snap, sitting up on your elbow.

“it’s not a big deal. I was stressed,” toji’s hand drops on the mattress, as he rubs his eye.

“whatever,” you didn’t even want to bother anymore. you turn over, not wanting to talk to him, but the grip on your shoulder told you otherwise.

“you’re not done talking,” he looks at your pinched expression, clearly pissed off. “what do you want me to do? apologize?”

“you’re such a dick sometimes,” you push his hand away from you. “I was trying to support you, and you don’t even care.”

“I do care!” he groans, why is this so difficult for him? “I just don’t need every dude with a fucking dick, hitting on you—“

“do you not trust me?” you’re practically glaring, which toji hates.

“stupid ass question,” he huffs, standing up. “you don’t think I trust you?” he’s pulling off his dirty clothes, tossing them to the side.

“no I don’t think so,” you sit up, face hurting from how long you’ve been frowning.

“then you’re causing problems for no fucking reason!” he slams the bathroom door, causing the entire room to shake.

“dick,” you mutter, biting your cheek as you hug your legs.

the cold shower was honestly what he needed. once the freezing water hit his back, it ultimately cooled his heated mind. what the fuck did he just start?

“sweetheart?” toji dries his face as he steps out the bathroom. immediately noticing the empty bed. “fuck me.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” toji is pressing his face in your neck, big body hugging your small frame as the steam from the shower slowly slips out. you don’t answer, just twisting the knife even deeper. you were angry, still. “are you gonna come tomorrow?”

you squirt some moisturizer on your fingers, before rubbing it on your face. his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches you through the mirror. if only his fans saw how much of a baby he gets when you give him the silent treatment. he could almost cry right now.

“y/n, please,” his arm squeezes your middle tighter, his beefy arms completely latched onto you as you don’t even bother to meet his gaze. “i need you there.” he mutters quietly. he was so tired, so when you ignore him again he decides to pull himself away.

your heart clenched. were you being too mean? you crawl onto the bed after getting dressed, he’s already asleep. his chest rising and falling as he kept his arm outstretched, an unconscious habit once you started dating, the invitation for your body to snuggle into him, always there.

your fingers gently caress his cheek, sitting beside his chest as you watch the deep even breaths. he always looks so peaceful. his body exuded warmth, practically seducing you into his arms. you wondered if he’ll be alright. yes, you were giving him the cold shoulder, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care.

especially with his habit of fucking you. was he going to be alright. it wasn’t impossible for him not to fuck before a match, but if he didn’t, it usually made him more aggressive in the cage. a couple warnings from the referee was not uncommon.

your lips softly pressed against his, eyes closing as you felt his own lips push back. your heart skipped a beat…he always has this effect on you.

his arm snaked around your waist, laying you down as he immediately hugged your middle, letting your inviting arms hug his shoulders as you caressed his hair coaxing him to sleep.

the moment was so intimate. you almost forgot you were still angry with him. however, toji most certainly did not forget. especially as the stadium erupted in cheers and applause as the fans awaited their fighters.

you sat in the front row. of course you came, you knew how much he’s been training. this silent treatment shit was not going to stop you from still supporting him….but….you felt your heart ache for a moment….it still felt like shit. felt like shit when he wouldn’t acknowledge what you do for him—

“y/n,” tojis manager, shiu’s hand suddenly brought you back.

“what—“

“can you come with me?” shiu was already dragging you up, holding your shoulder as he escorted you.

“what’s wrong?”

“he won’t stop asking for you,” shiu was stressed, clearly. it was less than half an hour before the match, what could possible be wrong with toji?

“did something happen??” you’re suddenly panicking, moving quickly down the hallway. what’s wrong? is he injured? does he feel sick?

“I don’t know, he’s not answering anyone,” you’re bursting into the locker room, eyes immediately falling onto the fighter sitting on the bench, hunched over, face in his hands.

“toji?” you’re immediately leaning down, your hands carefully on top of his as you try to speak. “what’s wrong—“

“everyone out,” toji snaps, his team all looking at one another panicked.

“toji we need to get you ready—“

“everyone fucking out or I’m not doing this match!” he shouts, startling you, but you look over at shiu nodding your head. trying to give them some kind of reassurance.

“we’re waiting outside,” shiu rubs his face, as he closes the door behind the last person. your attention now shifting back to your boyfriend.

“is everything oka—“ his lips suddenly crash into you. fingers firmly holding your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth. you’re completely caught off guard, hands holding his wrists, whining as he pushes you against the lockers, arm wrapping around your waist pressing you firmly into his chest—

“toji!” you gasp, breath heavy as you meet his gaze. “what’s going on—“

“I do need you,” he groans, aggressively shoving his shorts down to allow his very erect cock to spring out, pre cum leaking out of the tip as he kisses your lips. “don’t ignore me again, i fucking hate it!” he bites your bottom lip, causing your voice to crack, whining. “answer me—“

“toji, they’re outside—“ but he’s already pulling your panties off, lifting your skirt as he drags his fingers through your folds.

“I trained this pussy so well,” he groans, kissing your lips. “ya get so wet just from kissin’ me,” he smiles, knees kicking your legs further apart as you whine, trying to hold his shoulders for balance.

“you never apologized,” you turn your cheek away, disconnecting his lips from yours as you try and catch your breath. “I came here to support you, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you,” your jaw clenched, trying to hold your composure, only to yelp as you felt his teeth sink into your neck.

“you’re pissing me off,” his fingers pushed into your pussy, your walls sucking him as you let out a strangled moan, the squelching wasn’t helping you either. “still have something to say?” he snaps, sucking bruises along your neck and shoulder as he pumps his thick fingers in your pussy, proud of himself as he hears the squelching start to trickle down his fingers.

“toji—“ you’re biting your hand, muffling your moans as your face heats up. so embarrassed that this is happening and you couldn’t even push him away.

“did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head. “you like talking, so lemme hear you.”

“no—ah ah…they’ll hear me—“ your desperately trying to keep some dignity, but it all leaves the moment you feel your body being lifting in the air.

“you’re such a baby,” he laughs, eyes dark and lips curling, because this was not your toji, no. pre-match toji was a whole different person. he could not afford a single warning or a threat of disqualification in this match.

“I’m not, you’re just a dick—“

“what else?” he can’t help the heat rushing south as he hears your fueled words. suddenly pumping blood into his veins, and his dick.

“you’re mean, and you take me for granted. you don’t apologize unless I ignore you—“ toji groans, as he pumps his hefty cock to your words, still able to hold your up, as he aligns his pulsing cock with your dripping wet folds.

“how mad are you baby?” he’s practically panting.

“fuck you,” and that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out.

“fucking took out my eardrums, puppy,” he’s laughing in your face as he pulls his hips back and shoves his cock inside you again. you were completely dazed, that moment he sank his full length deep in your tummy, your brain automatically turned to mush. he usually took his time when it’s the night before a match, but there was no time now. so he couldn’t hold himself back as he let you take it full force.

you were an absolute mess, crying and letting out broken moans as he pumped his hot cock in your tight hole.

“can’t talk anymore? thought you had so much to say, pup?” he’s sucking your lips, smiling at how swollen and used they’ve gotten as he picks up the pace. the lewd echoes bounced off the walls, your body burning from embarrassment, but it didn’t matter—

“to-toji….do ah hahh you….uh uh..need me?” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. such a mess in such a small time.

“of course I—ungh do,” his teeth pull at your bottom lip. kissing you over and over as he draws near his climax. your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin as you feel bite at your neck. “you’re my biggest fucking fan, and I’ll always need you,” his jaw is clenching as he feels your pussy spasming around him. “you cummin’ pup?”

“mhm? ahh— mm oji!” he grips your ass, fucking you faster as he feels his balls tighten. you’re drooling into his lips as he opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, groaning as he feels your spit rub inside his mouth. such a filthy girl. you were creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock as your eyes grew.

“too much…ahhh—wait!” the lockers were shaking as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs shook.

“you’re everything, y/n,” your cheeks flare, you loved when he called you nicknames. but when he moans out your name, you can’t help the butterflies that break out. “I love you, so much,” his head tilts back as he shoves his hips deeper in, releasing warm globs of white cum into your warm pussy.

“don’t….ignore…me,” he sighs, thrusting more as you bite your lip, tears sliding down your cheeks as you feel the last bit of his heavy load finally come out as he pulls out. he still holds you up, pumping his cock to release the excess amount of cum on your nasty pussy.

“goes both ways,” you cup his cheeks, bringing him to your lips, smiling as he caresses your ass, giving it a firm slap.

you stumble on your feet, going over to the sink to rinse yourself down there. grabbing a towel—

“keep it in,” his lips nibble at your neck as he runs a hand down between your legs cupping your pussy. your cheeks sting, feeling his big fingers scoop at his cum and shoving it back in, your hand falling to his thick forearm as he pats your cute tummy with his other hand. “you’re my good luck charm, sweetheart,” he licks the bruise on your neck, dropping to his knees to kiss your pussy.

you almost whine, watching him smile up at you, desperate to hold in your composure, especially when he gives you a wink covering your cute little pussy with your panties, and giving it a cute kiss again.

your face was red as he called the team back in. no one said a word about what they obviously heard, especially with the way they avoided looking at you, specifically since toji was staring daggers at them for even asking you if you needed some water….I mean considering what they heard…

once they finished wrapping his gloves, shiu was escorting you back to your seat—

“y/n,” the soft call, immediately had your head turning. eyes so bright as he smiled…a gentle tug, that had your heart skipping a beat. “I am sorry.”

you can only nod, trying to keep your smile from taking over. “i know,” and so does he. all you wanted to know is that he felt remorseful, something that will acknowledge what he did and that he’ll do better, because that’s all you can ask for.

you definitely were a good luck charm. the moment the bell rang, announcing his win, the audience was going batshit crazy. people screaming, and cheering as flashes from photographers blinded the stadium.

everyone already knew his routine. it was even more gossip and cheers when they noticed the marks on his back—

pushing past the cameras and the annoying speakers, until he was jumping down from the cage and letting you leap into his arms, lips latching onto his as he held you up. the matching bruises was definitely something for twitter to run with.

“you liked it?” he muttered against your lips, only for your ears.

“ya! you always look so cool!” you gush, your cute smile sending his heart swelling, your words always hitting him. “I love seeing you fight! but you can be so mean.”

“how so?” he raises a brow.

“some rounds they can’t even catch a break,” you empathize.

“that’s the point, baby,” his hand unconsciously rubs your back, settling you down as you talk to him. your fingers unconsciously caressing the nape of his neck, careful of his own bruises.

“nuh-uh, the point is to have fun….and win—but like you know what I mean,” you roll your eyes, only to look back at toji hearing him laugh. your own lips curling into a smile.

“I guess so,” he dips his head, lips pressing to your warm cheek. “i just need you here to remind me.”

his arms wrap around you, lips brushing yours. “just stay with me…” his kiss was soft. “I’ll be better…just for you.”

he will. unless he wants to loose you. he can change for a princess.

just smt ab mma toji😫 so toxic but so sweet🥹

what you know - r. sukuna [college au]

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog. if you've already requested to be on the taglist, i've got you <3

❦ words ; 200k+? estimated.

main masterlist || ao3 || wattpad || playlist

⋆ ch1 || fallen angel ⋆ ch2 || prom queen ⋆ ch3 || grade a(sshole) ⋆ ch4 || served ⋆ ch5 || hero ⋆ ch6 || intoxicated ⋆ ch7 || yuletide ⋆ ch8 || hysteria ⋆ ch9 || (ex) friends ⋆ ch10 || miscalculation ⋆ ch11 || scars ⋆ ch12 || too sweet ⋆ ch13 || coming soon!

⋆ husband!wyk!sukuna headcanons

⫘ sukuna appearance hc ⫘ series art ⫘ ⫘ fanart tag ⫘ music tag ⫘ ask tag ⫘

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight. do not repost, translate, or copy.

fancy surprise icons!

Love Me Through Every Lifetime

♱⋅── rafayel x fem!reader

♱⋅── synopsis: For a Lemurian, there is no greater curse than love. And Rafayel is beginning to understand its dangers, especially when the full moon turns him half-delirious and desperate to claim you as his— in every way that matters.

♱⋅── word count: 6.9k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, pwp, switch!raf but it quickly changes, merman/lemuniran heat, mates, breeding kink, oviposition, monsterfucking to keep it simple

♱⋅── art: @/–山渡川–

You think Rafayel might be dying. 

For two days, you have not heard a word from your overdemanding employer slash lover. Waking up around noon without a barrage of texts calling you a “lazy hibernating bear” or “neglectful partner” was unusual enough, but an irregularity you chalked up to Rafayel’s upcoming gallery exhibition. 

But by nightfall, you were confused, and by the next morning, cold dread had begun to creep in. He has still not sent a single text, not a call, nothing. Absolute silence. 

Despite agreeing to attend sparring practice tonight with Xavier, you rush out from HQ as soon as your squadron is dismissed from a mission briefing– you’ll make it up to him later. For now, you keep your Hunter’s suit equipped and reload both your pistols, tucking them into their holsters as you rev the engine of your motorcycle. 

Energy fluctuations always escalate before a full moon, and between the increase in Wanderers and the growing bounty on Rafayel's head, you feel your panic rise, the hollow ring of the moon looming overhead as you speed to Rafayel’s studio, praying that nothing has happened.

Rafayel is a mess.

It’s been centuries since he has last felt this insatiable heat, but to fall prey to his instincts was perhaps inevitable. After all, he’s finally found you again. 

Not only that, but he got too close once more, pulling you in from a stranger to an unwilling bodyguard to a friend and lover. Rafayel supposes he can only blame himself. His Lemurian biology has always keened in your presence, and he sealed his own fate when he finally coaxed you into bed with him. But he doesn't regret it— not for a moment.

However, it has been weeks since the first time the two of you had sex, and yet he still can do nothing but taste you against his tongue, nothing but imagine your face every time you unraveled against him, nothing but want you atop him, beneath him, beside him, so fucking bad he can’t think of anything else.

He had reunited with his mate. 

Of course his instincts now want to make you his, forever. 

Rafayel curses, his clothes chafing against his sensitive skin, making him burn under each suffocating layer before he hurriedly begins to rip and unbuckle each one. He wants you beside him, your touch on him. He wants so badly it burns.

With a groan, he collapses onto the coach, face buried in his hands as he genuinely worries he might die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling through every nerve. Your name lights up on his phone, the light buzzing adding to the countless missed texts and calls on the screen.

Rafayel spares a glance at his phone before chucking it across the studio. He swears he might come from the thought of you alone. 

On cue, the studio’s front door opens with a bang. 

Disregarding protocall entirely you charge in, swinging both your guns around as you shout. “Rafayel! Yell if you’re trapped or injured, or... or just say something!”

There’s a crash behind you, and you nearly shoot, lowering the pistol only when you see a seagull that must have snuck in, topple over another vase, and flee through the wide open windows. 

No Wanderers. Not yet.

The studio is in ruins. Its usual “organized disorganization” would be considered neat in comparison. It looks like a thief ransacked the place, and a hurricane followed suit. Scraps of clothing and swirls of paint splatter across the floor like blood at a crime scene. 

Alarm creeps further into your voice, and you call for him again. “Rafayel! Please say something, anything, just let me know you’re okay.” You creep along the edge of the wall, turning into the main room, expecting the worst: to see him bleeding out, or knocked unconscious, or–

Lying on the couch. 

He’s lying on the couch. 

Sprawled against the cushions, you’re nearly convinced Rafayel is sleeping until you notice the audible rasp in his breathing, skin flushed red in a picture of debauchery. You felt your breath hitch as you scanned him up and down to check for injuries, his billowing shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hips, trail of dark purple hair pathing the way to his hand, which was clawing against his thigh. 

You force yourself to look away, a tremor in your voice. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”

“Stop talking.” Rafayel groans in pain and you holster your firearms before rushing to his side, kneeling by the couch as he flinches away from your body, his hand pressed to the lower half of his face. Your knees brush something rough and you look down, realizing the floorboards have been burned. 

“Your Evol,” panic returns and you reach out to check Rafayel’s temperature. “It’s acting up. We need to get you to a doctor.” Your fingers hardly brush against his forehead before they’re yanked away. Rafayel springs up, clutching your wrist so tightly you flinch, putting as much distance between the two of you as he could without releasing his hold. 

“No.” His chest is heaving, and you hardly hear him over the hand he still has over his mouth, muffling his words. “You need to leave. Right now.” 

“You’re the one holding me.”

Bewildered, Rafayel looks at his arm as though unaware of his own moments. But he makes no move to unhand you.

Slowly, you lean closer, letting your free hand rest against Rafayel’s cheek, gasping at how hot he is to the touch.

Fuck. Your hand is so deliciously cool against his skin that Rafayel can’t help but lean his entire weight against it, nudging his face into your palm as a strangled whine hisses through his teeth. A tug, and you gasp as you’re pulled down, tripping into Rafayel’s lap as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner wrists. 

The position is beyond compromising, especially considering Rafayel’s state of undress. Stumbling forward, your free hand pushes against his bare chest, and you try to free yourself, willing your eyes not to travel any lower to his unbuckled trousers. “Rafayel…”

“Don’t,” he curses into your palm, inhaling deeply before biting. He moans deep in his chest, licking up your fingers, sucking gently at each digit as you feel your body flush. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t move or breathe in my direction either.” 

He continues suckling against your fingers, and you would have snapped at his ridiculous demands if it wasn’t for the fact that you doubt you could form any words at all right now, dumbfounded as a dull heat throbs against your lower stomach. 

As if noticing, Rafayel’s mouth opens with a deep breath, cursing as he goes back to nipping and kissing your wrist. “Fuck,” he laughs, delirious, “I can smell how turned on you are. You– you’re an open book, cutie.”

Rafayel places another kiss to your palm before yanking your arm behind him, and you gasp when his head tilts, lips grazing the column of your throat, words slurred and raspy. His breath is scalding, every gentle brush of his lips against your skin sending your nerves on edge.

You feel dizzy. 

"Don't talk. Don't even move. Just stay- hah - stay with me."

His hands, both his free one and the one pinning your wrists, roam, caressing you as he presses wet kisses along your throat. It is all you can do to hold still, but when he sucks harshly against the pulse point at the base of your neck, a moan slips through your clenched teeth.

You try to squirm out of his grip, but the action only grinds against Rafayel's crotch, and you tense up immediately at the very obvious bulge, hot, sticky fluid already soaking through his trousers. 

The artist nearly sobs at the mere friction, expression a mixture of pained and pleading as he begs up at you. "Stay. Please."

He doesn't mean just for the moment. He means always, for eternity, for every lifetime he’s cursed to live. He’s never letting you go again. 

And you can do nothing but nod. 

You want to help him, really, in every way, endlessly, but taking advantage of him while he’s so helpless and desperate feels wrong. Worry sets in, and you cup his jaw, Rafayel keening into your touch with a whine. “Does this have something to do with Lemuria?”

Rafayel swallows, his hands sliding to your waist and gripping tightly, as though he expects you to disappear at any moment. You can see the indecision on his face, the conflict as he fights the desire clouding his brain. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He tries a second time and succeeds, the words sounding painful and forced even as your thumbs trace his face, caressing every edge and curve. 

"I never imagined this would happen. You’re not- I mean, it only ever happens to Lemurian mates.” He’s shaking beneath you, eyes going unfocused as your touch ventures lower, down his collarbones, squeezing at his chest, tracing his abs, and further still. “I knew you were special, my muse, but not special enough to drive me into heat.”

He’s joking, teasing you, but you can’t help the flush of arousal at that statement. Your brows furrow, the gears in your head turning. You try not to sound too excited, the thought of Rafayel in heat is enough to distract you from the urgency of the situation. Again, Rafayel notices, inhaling your scent as something trills deep within his chest. 

"If you need my help, then you have it. Any way you want.”

Your fingers slide against the hem of his trousers, and Rafayel's breath hitches. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips- you swear his nails are sharper than normal- and a thrill shoots through you at the feeling. You can practically see his control slipping away, the last threads fraying, and he bites into your shoulder with a moan, fangs nipping through the fabric of your clothes.

Rafayel releases the bite and looks at you, expression wild. His pupils are dilated and his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between yours and the mark he's made.

"If you say things like that…" he warns, the hand around your wrist tightening. You can't help the soft gasp that escapes, and Rafayel growls at the noise. He lurches forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth. 

"I-I can't," Rafayel pants. The expression he wears is so unlike him that it's shocking, and you feel your core clench. He's completely unraveled, hair disheveled, clothes torn and askew. 

And, fuck, you swear some of his pheromones must have infected you too, because you can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous- more than usual- a furious pink blush from the tips of his ears down to the mole on his chest you can’t stop kissing, the color a beautiful contrast to his dark locks, now wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead in thick curls. 

His eyes never leave yours, not even as they roll in pleasure, their sunset hues dimmed with an animalistic sort of hunger that makes you shiver with every forceful press of his hips against yours. It’s punishing, brutal, and a violent contrast to the tears brimming in his eyes from the mere friction alone.

You want to ruin him. You plan on it.

"I won't be able to stop.” Rafayel whines, and you can't stop your hips from rutting back against him, the sensation pulling a choked sob from his throat. You swallow the noise with a kiss, the motion so gentle compared to his desperate, frenzied fucking. It's all he can do not to break, his control already slipping through his fingers like sand. “I won’t want to, I’ll fuck you until you can think of nothing else, just me. Only me.”

The idea sends a sharp spike of heat up your spine. His desperation for you is intoxicating, and you know his warning is sincere. He won’t let you go until you tell him to. You should be scared.

But all you can think of is his voice in your ear, begging and crying.

Your voice is hardly a whisper, "What do you need from me, Rafayel?"

"To breed you. To have my pretty human filled with my brood, to fuck you full."

You moan at the vulgarity of his words, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Rafayel groans as he fucks harder against your thigh, his own breath ragged as he tucks his forehead against your neck. 

But the mention of his brood has you nervous, and you gasp the question between moans at Rafayel’s insistent grinding. You don’t know much about Lermurian biology, but between the myths and Rafayel’s teasing, you have a vague idea that makes your head spin.

“How many, ah-” fucking hell, the word seems weird to think of, let alone say, “eggs do Lemurians usually have?”

Rafayel laughs at that, and you nearly sigh at the sound, the familiarity comforting. It isn't mocking, more surprised, and the sound is music to your ears, especially considering the delirious state he was in.

"Don't be silly, love," he teases, but his hips don't stop moving, undoubtedly soaking through his trousers and your pants. "We're not animals, we're civilized creatures."

His tone shifts, the light-hearted nature vanishing in an instant. The words are hissed against the shell of your ear, and a violent shiver runs through you. "I'll fill you to the brim, make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure every creature knows whose bitch you are. You're mine, and I'll mark you however I wish, however many times I must, until the message is clear."

A sharp pinch on the shell of your ear makes you gasp. He bit you. But the pain is gone as fast as it came, replaced with a wet tongue and warm lips. A whimper slips out, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound.

"So, my lovely mate, since you’re so eager, how many eggs do you want?"

He’s mocking you. Brat. 

Blushing furiously, you shove him down, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position as Rafayel whines at the loss of contact, hips bucking into empty air. You can feel his cock throbbing against your leg, and his hand reaches out for you, fingers barely grazing your skin before you roughly push him back down.

You give him a firm look, and the sight sends a fresh wave of arousal through his body, his cock jerking as Rafayel keens and throws his head back, unable to meet your eyes. He’s trembling, and the hand you pinned down flies to his face, covering his eyes as you scowl down at him.

“Alright, alright, ‘m sorry.” He laughs, trailing into a moan as you finally sit back against him. “It depends, our biology doesn’t favor us. We only mate once, and despite going into these seasons our clutches only take once a decade or so. Per season is variable too, anywhere from five to a dozen.”

Up to a dozen. 

A dozen eggs.

In you.

Fuck.

You must have made a sound because Rafayel looks at you with a cheeky grin, and a mischievous glint in his eye. He can smell the want on you, the scent is driving him wild, and you know it. But the realization of your need sends another ripple of desire through him, and Rafayel grunts in pain, writing against the cushions. 

"Fuck, need you. Need you so, so bad." He growls, grabbing your wrist and yanking you towards him. You lose balance, and your knees slide against the couch, falling over him with a gasp. “Need you now. Please, need my mate, need you to be mine—”

Greedy. 

You scoff before his mouth is on yours again, licking up into you.

He's insatiable, and as he presses closer you swear his teeth feel sharper, catching against your bottom lip.

“Poor baby,” you coo, palming Rafayel through his boxers as his eyes roll back at your touch. His mouth opens in a gasp, and you can see the hint of fangs, the razor edge of his canines. They glint in dusk’s low light, and you lean closer to get a better look. Rafayel can sense your interest, and his head lolls to the side, giving you a better view as he bares his throat, a dull blue shimmer now coating the sides, pulsing in time to his racing heart. 

It's a vulnerable position, one he would never allow anyone else to see him in. But you are not anyone, and he trusts you enough to offer himself up, trusts you to protect him as he succumbs to his desires, even if you’re the one that holds the knife. 

And you reward him for his loyalty. 

"Mmm, such a good boy, showing your mate what a pretty mess you are." Your voice is sweet and praising, and you feel Rafayel shudder violently, biting his lip deep enough to draw blood to stop the high-pitched moan that rips from his chest. Then he stills. “Did you just…” 

“Don’t tease,” he bucks into your palm, impossibly hard still in a way that is utterly nonhuman. “Just once more, make me cum once more, and I’ll fuck you properly. Promise.”

You hardly need to be told twice. 

Slipping off the side of the couch, you coax Rafayel to turn with you, settling between his legs as you work at his belt. “Then let me taste you.”

His thigh jumps at that, and Rafayel throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud, his hand already lacing into your hair. 

For all that talk his cock was still surprisingly human-like. It doesn’t look too different from before, still annoyingly well-endowed and leaking violently against the angry purple-red tip. But this time there’s a faint pale blue discoloration around the base, with a shine you can’t tell is a result of his Lemurian lineage or due to the copious amounts of precum he’s dripping down to his thighs. 

Gods, he’s messy.

There’s nothing sweet in the way you fuck him within your mouth, tongue trailing a prominent vein against the underside of his dick until you reach the tip once again. Rafayel goads you forward by pushing and pulling your head with his hand and his almost obnoxiously loud moans and mumbles of praise.

Both of your hands join, one stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and the other massaging against his balls, each one heavy and tense, waiting to spill into something other than your mouth. The slick slap of skin on skin spurs you on, and Rafayel’s hand rips through the fabric on the couch with sharp nails you now feel digging into the back of your neck. 

“I’m almost–” He warns, and you nearly choke in surprise at the feeling of something swell against the base of his cock, a firm, round intrusion that has Rafayel sobbing. Then, he comes again, overflowing down your throat as you force yourself off, thick ropes of cum covering your face and shooting over his bare abdomen and chest, and then more. And more. 

All of that, and he’s still hard. 

Despite the strands of cum dripping between your hands, chin, and his cock, Rafayel still feels no relief. The bulge against the base of his cock inflates more, and he trills, a deep sound akin to whalesong deep in his chest. 

“It’s no use, I need…” A breathy moan, and Rafayel yanks you both to your feet. “Ocean. Now.”

His words devolve into incoherent rambling, and you nod, dragged alongside him as he clings to you like a child, his weight nearly toppling you both over as his knees buckle. You catch him, but his strength is inhuman, and even with the help of your Evol he could crush you.

You are his.

You will finally be his.

Rafayel’s grip around you tightens, and a possessive growl rumbles against his throat. He needs to feel you against him, inside him, his instincts screaming to mark you in every way conceivable. 

The studio's back doors lead directly to the beach, and the summer night breeze hits Rafayel with a delicious chill against his burning skin. The air tastes of salt and brine, the scent familiar and comforting— the smell of home.

The ocean is as gorgeous as it is terrifying in the midst of night. The roar of the waves and the silver reflection of the full moon are the only things illuminating the vast darkness before you. Yet Rafayel shows no such fear as he tugs you further along the beach, kissing and nipping and groping at you endlessly as he strips you of your clothes, his own following suit. 

"You'll regret leaving me after this," Rafayel whispers, pressing his lips to the pulse of your neck. 

"Silly fishie," you murmur, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever leave you?"

He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You figured he was simply being overdramatic yet again, but Rafayel refuses to meet your eyes, smiling in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty.

“Of course, silly me. Why would anyone ever leave me?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair, preening. ”I’m perfect.”

You scoff, shoving him gently as you roll your eyes. Of course he would be cocky right before getting his brains fucked out.

"Well, you are quite pretty for a fish."

Rafayel laughs, deep and rumbling in his chest, a contagious sound that has you laughing too, until the cold spray of the ocean hits you with a light mist. The crest of another wave surges against you, curling around your bare ankles and knees as the tide ebbs and flows. Rafayel spares you one last teasing grin before running further into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a splash. 

You can’t help but feel nervous as you watch and listen for a break in the sea, knowing when your lover emerges, he will be a wholly different being than the one you’ve memorized every curve and edge of. 

But you want him to know you’ll accept him regardless. No matter how scaled or fish-like or ugly he may become. 

As if testing you, your mind conjures up a horrid fish-monster complete with swampy hair and a shark’s face before you chase the thought away, shaking your head violently. There’s no way a man as gorgeous as Rafayel could turn into a creature so hideous… Right?

Regardless, you’d help him. Regardless, you’d stay with him, love him. 

This you vowed.

And the ocean listens, seafoam curling around your ankles before it retreats, carrying with it your promise into its depths. Keeping it. 

A splash breaks the surface of the waves and you squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you see the outline of a man, cutting through the waves with a dull glow, as if parting the waters themselves. 

“Surely you don’t plan on making me wait any longer.” Rafayel complains, “Join me, my muse. My heart.” 

His voice coaxes you forward, and like a sailor drawn by a siren’s call, you walk further into the ocean. Each soft wave crashes higher against your legs until the salty spray hits the bare skin of your stomach, and you flinch from the chill against every sensitive part of your body. 

Finally, he’s close enough for you to see everything in the evening glow, and your breath leaves you entirely. 

He’s still your Rafayel, the mischievous glow against his duochromatic eyes reminds you of that much, but there’s a vibrant blue glow to them, a clearer blue than the ocean itself, one that freckles down his neck and body with bioluminescent markings. There’s also that familiar pointed smile he still wears, only, at the upper corner you catch the glint of fangs. Even longer than before. A splash, and your attention snaps behind him, where an enormous tail flicks impatiently out of the waves, a pale blue rippling into the color of the ocean’s depths, complete with purples and blues so dark it could be night itself. 

Dragging a hand across his cheek, you press your forehead against his own. “You’re gorgeous.” 

Rafayel’s pointed ears heat up, and he can hardly stop himself from succumbing to his instinct begging him to take you, to lure you into the stormy depths and to fuck you until you lay writhing, full of his brood on the seafloor. 

Instead, he lets you explore him, his new body, and what remained of the man you knew. Drunk on his siren’s call, you are pulled closer to him, waves lapping at your chest now as you trace the swirls of purple, vermillion, and gold markings dancing down his chest, scales of the same hues following down until the warmth of Rafayel’s skin turns to the cold, smooth feel of scales and he gasps against your touch. 

One moment you’re standing against the waves and the next you’re dragged back to shore, pinned against the sand.

“I’m sorry, I promise you’ll have more time to ogle and worship my body another day.” You scoff, about to throw a snarky reply when Rafayel presses his tail between your legs, yards of it still tailing behind the two of you as you’re effectively pinned. “But right now, I need to breed my pretty little mate full.”

You whine, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he can babble any more nonsense. His lips taste like seafoam and smoke, and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his tail begin to roll into your hips, the motion smooth from the foreign texture of his scales and your own dripping slick. 

“Ah, you’re going to have to…” Almost embarrassed, Rafayel’s hand leaves yours, trailing down his own body as he prods against the underside of his tail. Curious, your fingers follow his own, finding a spot where the rough scales turn soft and smooth, a seam that feels like muscle, and within it, an equally wet slit. “There.”

You’re too desperate to even tease him, working your fingers in gentle circles until you ease one in, stroking the smooth velvet of his walls until both of your fingers can slip in. Then, something bumps against your fingers, prodding as you help coax it out. 

Rafayel groans, his enormous body convulsing as he presses against you. “Hurry up.” He grinds harder, nearly pulling you deeper into his slit. “Hurry up, hurry up, you’re taking too long.”

Rafayel has always been a demanding lover. But not like this. Not like he might actually die if he isn’t inside of you right at this very moment.

You huff, amused. Why not make him suffer just a little more? 

“What do we say when we want something, Rafayel?”

“Fuck. You are impossibly cruel, can’t you see I’m already suffering and yet still you make an effort to be so–” You curl your fingers up, knuckles roughly knocking against his still-sheathed cock. You very well almost come undone at the face he makes, twisted in pleasure as his eyes roll back, jaw slack with a high-pitched whine as he arches into your punishing touch. “Please! Please, ah, I’ll beg. I’ll beg, I’ll- fuck - I’ll fill you so well, I swear, just let me breed you.”

How could you say no to something so sweet?

Finally pulling his cock free, your breath catches at the sheer weight of it, heavy against your stomach and at least two inches longer and rough to the touch, ridges slick with how badly he’s leaking as you feel up and down his tapered length. But, unlike back at his studio, this liquid is clear and leaves pinpricks against your palm, almost going numb as he spills and drips onto your skin. 

Rafayel gasps, “Antispastic. It’s muscle relaxant to keep our mates comfortable and pliant for us.” 

Comfortable and pliant. You suddenly feel the very opposite, especially when you remember the end goal of this mating session. 

“Shh,” Rafayel coos against your ear as though hearing your fears, his fingers already working against your entrance as he whispers sweet nothings and praise into your ears. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt any more than you want it to.”

And with that his fingers retreat, grinding his enormous form closer as you feel the nudge of his cock against your core, pushing in with the help of the gentle rocking from the waves, tapered tip making the stretch easier. 

You wince and Rafayel immediately kisses you, distracting you with his tongue before he hilts himself in one brutal movement, pinning you down as you thrash in protest. The pain only blinds you for a second, and then the relaxant does its work, filling you with a warm, tingling feeling that almost has you floating. You let out a garbled plea and Rafayel coos in response, lacing his fingers with yours. 

Despite already being fucked deep within you, Rafayel’s hips rut insistently against yours, pushing and pushing until you can feel the round bulge at the base of his cock grind against your clit, making you cry into his lips. 

Every ridge on the side of his cock catches deliciously against your walls, and you arch off the beach, your legs twitching against Rafayel’s tail until he lifts one up, nipping against your ankle and calf before hooking it over his shoulder, still suckling at the delicate skin around your inner thigh.

The intimacy of it all scares you. 

For the past month Rafayel has been insatiable, as if once he finally got you in his bed he never wanted you to leave again, always finding a way to lure you on top of him or trap you underneath, the perfect picture of lust. Regardless, it would always end with fast, frenzied fucking. But not like this. 

Not with him slowly rocking into you, pulling back until just his tip remained before grinding all the way in as he whispered songs in a language you could not understand. Not with him intertwining his fingers with yours and watching your every reaction with utmost receptiveness and adoration. Not with him kissing away your tears as you come undone. 

But for Rafayel, this was long overdue.

After all, he’s chased you throughout every lifetime, forsaking his people, giving up his heart, and vowing himself to you time and time again despite knowing how it ends— how it always will.

Your face goes slack at your sudden orgasm, but Rafayel helps you through it, one hand unlacing from yours as he thumbs your clit until your shudders subside. He whispers, not caring that you’re still too fucked-out to hear. “I’m not a patient man, you know. I’ve been waiting for centuries. And now you’re here, you’re here and you’re all mine.” Another kiss to your forehead before he feels that uncontrollable heat rise again, letting it take over. “I’m never letting you go again.”

When you come to the first thing you feel again is the rhythmic pounding against your sweet spot, and you writhe against the sand with a violent gasp. Desperate for some sort of relief, your hands push at Rafayel’s chest, futilely trying to force him back or at least get him to slow down until another particularly rough thrust has you sobbing, clawing at his arms and shoulders.

But Rafayel hardly seems to notice. He’s lost himself entirely, eyes glazed over as they fixate on where his cock bullies into you, muscles across his back and tail pushing him forward with a force that makes you scream. Fueled by your mindless whimpers, he forces his cock in deeper, chasing his release so he can finally, finally fuck you full. 

Rafayel also doesn’t last long, his third orgasm hitting him violently enough that he nearly collapses on top of you, purring against your throat with a trill that comes from deep within his chest. His fangs dig into the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he continues to come, rope after rope coating your cervix, filling you with a warmth alongside the muscle relaxant. You nearly come too, almost uncomfortably wet, slick enough that even the monstrous ridges alongside Rafayel’s cock slip deeper and deeper inside you with terrifying ease. 

Again, he moans something in another language, a series of clicks and purrs rumbling from his chest, eyes dark and unfocused as he forces you to look up at him. “You’ve been so, so good for me. Pretty little mate needs to be fucked full though, ya? Need to be filled with my brood?” You don’t even realize you’ve come at his words, something else squirming against your clit below his swollen base. Rafayel licks your tears away, tongue nonhuman as its length curls around your cheek, moaning at the taste of your sweat, arousal, and seasalt. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll defy your silly human biology, make you a mommy.”

Fighting to prop yourself up against the sand, you reach down, hand trembling as it thumbs against Rafayel’s slit once more. But this time, something else has begun to emerge.

Rafayel sobs against your neck, keeping what you now realize is his first cock buried greedily inside you, unwilling to pull out by any more than an inch. Drunk off of him, you messily press two fingers into his slit, hiking your legs further up his shoulders to give you better access to where the two of you are joined against the splash of the waves. 

Dipping your fingers in, you inhale sharply at the squirm of something rough, thumbing the coil out as it writhes and curls into the warmth of your palm. his second cock is not, well, it’s a tentacle for lack of a closer human anatomical reference. All ridges and scales as you coax it to a similarly monstrous length as the first, but thicker, writhing as though possessing a mind of its own.

And right below it, you feel the obvious bulge against Rafayel’s tail where his eggs are. 

You’re suddenly very, very grateful for the Lemurians’ natural muscle relaxant. 

Despite the slick practically leaking from you, you still tense as the tip of the tentacle dick begins to flick and tease at your already full entrance, not giving you a moment to breathe before it begins pushing in alongside the first. It pokes and prods enough to have you whimpering before Rafayel holds your thighs still and thrusts, forcing both his cocks in to the hilt.

It feels impossible. It shouldn't be possible.

But the way he fits is perfect, a tight, burning stretch, the ridges along his first cock and the suctions on the second bruising you in ways that make you scream, vision going dark around the edges as Rafayel moans into your ears. Your cunt feels abused to the point of numbness, the pain dissolving as your mouth hangs open, jaw slack as nonsensical babbles and pleas fall from your lips. 

And, fuck, Rafayel doesn’t even bother waiting to let you regain your sanity before his two cocks start pistoning in and out of you, the bottom one curling and stroking against the first, effortlessly brutal along the slick walls of your cunt. His fangs ghost along the shell of your ear as he splays his huge, slightly webbed hand across your lower belly. 

"How deep am I?" He rolls his hips again, rougher. You cry as Rafayel’s weight forces you to tuck further under him, nearly folding you in half as your legs press against his tail. "Can I go deeper? Can I? Please, please, please—" 

You gasp, mewling and writhing as you feel the bottom cock begin to squirm again. Bullying its way into your cervix, it thrashes violently against that spongy spot inside you that has your vision spinning. Rafayel is fairing no better, losing the capacity for human speech altogether, moaning as his cock finally breaches the tight ring of muscle, fucking into your womb.

Even through the haze, legs numb and twitching, your body still convulses in protest as you feel the bulge pressing against your clit begin to move. Rafayel shudders right as it does, clawed hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forces you impossibly closer. The bottom cock twitches, coaxing your womb open, and you moan as you feel the bulge creep forward.

This should hurt, it should horrify you, and yet it only breaks you in ways that will ruin you for any future lovers. Not that you ever plan on leaving him. Not after this. 

Rafayel thrusts one last time, waves raging around you as he does so, and you nearly sob as you feel the bulge shift up his length, dragging slowly against your walls until it presses against your cervix. Even then you only cry in pleasure, nails digging bloody crescents into Rafayel’s shoulder as he does the same against your thighs, the antispastic doing its work in keeping you deliriously wet and pliant. You roll your hips desperately against your lover, and the sudden shift in position forces the first egg beyond the tight barrier, falling into your womb.

Gods. It feels heavy, it feels wrong, it feels so fucking good you come again with a silent scream.

Rafayel swallows every noise with a messy kiss, his serpentine tongue curling around your own and sucking, nearly fucking itself into your mouth as you get lightheaded from both the lack of air and the press of his second egg already at your entrance. You sob into Rafayel’s lips, greedily moving your hips against his own, forcing him in further before he obliges, shoving your thighs further apart until your knees touch the sand too. Then you feel the weight of the second egg bump against the first, overwhelmed as the next has already begun stretching you full again. 

The two of you are reduced to little more than animals, helpless fucking and licking and moaning against one another as the eggs come one after another, again and again and again until your womb feels bloated and abused, the feeling euphoric thanks to the copious amount of relaxant and cum already flooding you. Rafayel’s bottom cock convulses after depositing the seventh egg, its tip finally wriggling out from your cervix’s vise grip against it, sucking and soothing your abused walls as you come once again, sobbing and numb to the pleasure-pain.

“Perfect,” Rafayel coos against your lips, rutting insistently inside you as his fingers lace with yours, forcing you to feel the taunt skin over your womb, the bulge obvious and hyper-sensitive. “You did so well, my perfect little mate, you deserve a reward don’t you?” 

Unable to form words, you nod, your entire body trembling as Rafayel laughs, thrusting his hips again, each one sharp and punishing against your overly-sensitive cunt, pelvis smacking your clit as your vision spins. He trills, a shudder overtaking his enormous body as his scales glow, pale blues and deep purples flicking violently down his skin and tail as the waves crash around him, continuing until he comes inside of you. It’s endless, the warmth coating every aching surface of your cunt up until your poor stretched womb, hot and thick as you feel Rafayel futilely attempt to keep it all in you with his dicks and then fingers. 

What does end up squirting back down your thighs and onto his abdomen is lapped up by the ocean, and the waves offer a cool relief as Rafayel finally pulls out and collapses onto the sand beside you. You feel simultaneously horribly empty and heavy, something Rafayel takes note of as he pulls you against him, humming into your neck and wrapping his arms around yours, careful not to place any pressure against your sensitive middle. 

He groans against your ear, and you turn in panic, only to see him back to his human form, the only evidence left of his tail the deep valleys against the sand where it once rested. You immediately regret moving, however, as the weight against your womb lurches you off balance and you moan before stilling yourself on your side. Holy fuck, how long will this last? 

“R-” your voice is raspy and you wince, “Rafayel?” 

He hums in answer, already kneeling beside you before lifting you easily in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he litters butterfly kisses over your forehead and nose. “What you said about the, um, fertilizing thing. These won’t actually hatch, will they?”

Again, Rafayel laughs, pressing his nose against the top of your head as he inhales. Another giggle. “Maybe.” You hit him. Hard. “Ouch, meanie. No, even with all of that there’s hardly a chance Lemurian clutches take. Not to mention you’re a human, so therefore not our necessary host.” 

You choose to let his provocative word choice go over your head and sigh in relief. Thumbing gently against the bulge of your lower stomach, you lean further into Rafayel’s chest, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart thumping in time to the crash of the waves. 

“But,” Rafayel sings the word with a playful lit. “If any of them do happen to fertilize, we can just fish them out before they hatch.”

“We can what.”

Gods, what did you get yourself into?

Goth Family sticker set ⚔️🦅👻

im desperate to find an oneshot i loved but I CNAT FIND IT OMG im going to pull all my hair to the point i become bald

EVANESCENT MASTERLIST

itachi x reader x kisame

In which Itachi is barely alive, Kisame is barely polite, and you’re barely a medic. Featuring the bloody stain on your favorite armchair and the tension that comes with being outnumbered in your own home.

Canon divergent. Not a love triangle. Eventual smut. Warnings will be added to each chapter, minors dni. Status: active.

© SAINTROCKLEE / SAINTROCKLEE 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY OR PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT AND POST ON THIS WEBSITE OR DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

chapter 001: trust [07.03.22] chapter 002: karma [08.25.22]

why can i already imagine the scenario in my head? el tío sukuna es el tío raro

Board games with uncle Sukuna :)

They are taking this thing seriously, already take the cards out of the game