#I CAN'T TAKE STREAMS ANYMORE

[cloudy-with-a-chance-of-chaos]

was omw to watch Alice in Wonderland (the Tim Burton one bc homie made me want to) and the thingies supposed to roll the movie are not rolling

so i'm kinda upset yea

thank u disney+ now not even the ancient methods (DVDs) work to watch your movies if i'm not using your platform

that i can't use

bc i can only access on computer

bc the TV isn't new enought to support the disney app

THIS IS EVERYTHING THAT'S WRONG IN THE WORLD

[thebleedingeffect]

Tbh its gonna be really funny to me that I bet after a couple months the increase of people using tumblr live will either go up a nearly miniscule amount or nothing at all. I hope that they look at that and get almighty amounts of pissed over it cause they couldn't make any money and sacrificed even more user trust over this bs

[pisshandkerchief]

NO

DACIADOESTOUR'S TICKET FELL THROUGH

NOOOOOOOOOO 😭

[karizipan]

hankim and frenrey two sides of the same coin no I will not elaborate

[sysig]

VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE!!!

Baby’s upside-down :D

What a silly goof!

What a handsome lad 💕

[shiningstages]

Me lookin' at my lil content: d'aaaaaaaw it's so cute~

I wanted to do stuff before work, but I like blanked out since I'm sleepy (went to bed around 1? 2?? then woke up at 7:11; not terrible but not like Great) then did my required stretchies / looked up stuff for things~ Tomorrow I have my last PT session and follow-up, and then I plan on cleaning my room / generally just chilling out since it has been Forever, but now...I will try and schedule in time for OC thoughts today and tomorrow (still have to decide if Atlas would be primal or astral...and maybe compare some story stuff to make sure it's not stepping on any Canon toes...but maybe we also don't care about that second bit ghffjghfgvcccgkhf).

[ghostie-gengar]

guyssss my fav anime site is down does anybody know any other sites that aren't kissanime that i can use

[auranym]

I think the saddest part about Unity's godawful news is that a lot of games are going to just. disappear.

it's like Unity is trying to go the way of streaming where the hidden gems and cult classics don't make enough money, so, they're taken offline. except this time it's with games (mostly indie).

to put it in perspective, hollow knight, cuphead, and ori are made in unity. so are night in the woods, tunic, and countless more indie gems. hell, AMONG US is made in unity. if the devs of any of these games can't shell out the outrageous cost, then maybe the devs will take them offline. and we'll just. never be able to play them anymore

it's a sad possibility that I don't think any of us ever had to consider. but now we do.

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he��s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[harrysfolklore]

max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

[cosycafune]

'CAN'T YOU HANDLE ME, BABY?'

0.8k words. sleeping with a man, Toji, double your age wasn’t on your bucket list. however, a tinder match up leaves you sexually curious — throwing away your sanity.

synopsis of acts: back shots, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, orgasms, him fucking you, whilst watching through the mirror, size difference, big balls, teasing, taunting, crying, mentions of oral, picture taking, infedelity and potential more. not proofread.

NOTHING within you knew what you did to end up here, struggling to take the man that you met on plain, old Tinder. A cum bucket wasn’t your first thought, even if you were a bratty mess.

A writhing mess, you’re mindlessly arched — Toji’s thick, heavy walls slapping against your filled cunt. Strings of thick, warm cum had filled you for hours, but Toji wasn’t willing to let you go. Unable to cry out anymore, consumed by Toji’s brutal pace, your body quivers heavily.

Not a sound fled from your lips, simply broken moans that barely surfaced — a symbol of your worn out self. To you, finding a man on a dating site, like this was extremely rare. However, nothing within you could decline the bulky, gruff, athletic man who kindly matched with a frail, doll-like you. No matter your weight, you still remained something miniscule, in need of conquering before Toji.

“Toji, can’t…last,” Stuffed effortlessly with Toji’s ropes of cum, his thick cock mashing your insides, you falter upon the ample bed with your strained words.

A large, overwhelming pile of saliva remains upon the sheets while Toji grins at you collapsing upon the blankets, being sure to drill into a quivering you. Shit, his ample smile never once faded within the mirror — a wicked grin licking upon his features with every ample thrust.

Innately, Toji’s girth exceeded anything you had ever experienced before, along with his length. Therefore, taking him for this long completely consumed you. Nonetheless, you never listened to your internal thoughts — warning yourself that you couldn’t handle him.

Even with him so deeply within your stomach, pulverising you, your cunt desperately sang his rough praises. Even as your beaten upon bubble butt weakly remains up, Toji can’t help but roughly steady your hips — colliding with a silently moaning you with glee.

Never had you been so fanciful with men who remain significantly older, but you couldn’t help but grind against him when he first entered your home. The restraint you once garnered wavered the moment Toji aligned his ample cock against your lips, throat fucking you recklessly for an hour. Wickedly, he tore into you immensely — so pleased with a teary, bubble-lipped you still yearning to take more. Fat globs of tears streamed down your face, but you couldn’t help but continue to let him throat fuck you — taking a picture and sending it to your toxic boyfriend.

Even whilst you almost choked, his cock lewdly smacking against your lips, Toji contently pushed you into intaking more. To you, you knew he discovered sadistic pleasure in seeing a naked, kneeling you — scattered with a sea of hickeys — obediently before his cock. Seeing you worship ever vein, the beads of cum that spew, the length of it, your battering doe eyes, completely consumed Toji immensely.

“Shit, I know you can…take it!” Toji bellows as he continues to flaunt his almost unbearable sexual drive, his sculpted hips prompting lewd sounds to flow from your squelching cunt. Squelching sounds cut through the serenity of the room, along with the straggled sounds that flee from your lips.

“‘Can’t believe you’ve been taking it…this long,” Knowing you’re flowing with Toji’s cum, even though you’re still being slip open by him, Toji grins with unfathomable glee.

“Fhm,” Wordlessly, exhausted, Toji softly tugs on your hair — forcing you to admire your teary, mascara-stained features in the posed mirror.

“A mess, and I’ve barely started,” Scoffing with his murmurs, Toji hums whilst your features are out of focus — completely corrupted by his cock.

“‘Can’t you… handle me, baby?” Grunting, feeling your walls tighten for the millionth time, Toji’s question falls pointless to a cumming you.

“Ohh,” Only bringing yourself to mutter something so useless, Toji realises the only thing holding up your conquered physique is his thick, veiny arm.

“Mhm! Yes!” Picking up his pace, Toji bellows while his ample balls bash against your buzzing clit — pushing you down on the bed.

“Ahhh!” Finding might to cry out, you gasp at Toji’s body weight falling upon you whilst he thrusts his deepest — pushing you further down on the bed.

“You’re…cute,” Moments away from finishing, Toji thrusts his deepest within you — his thick cock causing you to let out a struggled gasp.

“S-So…deep,” Muttering, Toji grins at your subtle coherency — drawing himself cumming his deepest within you once more.

“‘Better not…take birth control,” Remaining tattered, cum-stuffed vigorously, Toji admires his work — bringing his words to your ear.

“‘Didn’t stuff you…to not carry my…baby,” Not longing to pull out, Toji carves himself into moaning loudly through his words — his eyes rolling back at his cum shooting within your womb.

“Ngh!” Jolting at Toji’s bucket-load of cum punch your gut, you feel yourself accidentally come undone — endlessly filled with his prestige baby batter.

“Hm, weren’t you…saying you’d take me for hours?” Tiredly mumbling, Toji glances at an almost asleep you within the mirror — drool departing from your parted lips.

“Can’t you handle more of me, baby?” Desperation tinting Toji’s voice, he continues to conduct his slow pace — so content by the warmth of your clutching cunt.

do not modify or reupload any of my works. all works are written by me. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes. 

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is 

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine. 

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips. 

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

--

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her. 

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe. 

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[frecklystars]

I noticed an error in the Barbie Movie

When Barbie is consoling Ken, we see her hand over his knee while she's talking to him

But in the next frame, it shows her hand on his chest instead. it didn't show her moving her hand, it was just... there suddenly

[moondirti]

can i say something crazy? cw: piss. nasty stuff

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

[wyvernest]

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

[dearieshima]

ONE, TWO, THREE...

✦SUMMARY

╰┈➤ your boyfriend choso gets the worst possible case of cuteness aggression at the wrong time...

✦C.W

╰┈➤ overstimulation, vaginal penetration, switch?choso, virgin!choso, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink idk, crying, this is pure smut enjoy, chubby reader appreciation, praise, 652 words, corruption kink prolly, reposted

"Hug-uhhh, hu-gh... ha-agh.. agh..."

Choso's chest heaved as he gulped in the thick, humid air, his lungs burning with each ragged breath. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes, mingling with the tears of overwhelming pleasure that streamed freely. He felt drunk on sensation, intoxicated by the exquisite tightness engulfing his aching cock.

This was madness, this insatiable hunger consuming him. This was his first time, no, second, (third?) time inside you. It didn't matter. All he knew is that he wanted, needed, his fourth. Sixth?

He gazed down at you, his vision blurred with adoration and lust. He must've have had the cutest girlfriend ever.

You was a vision, a goddess, sprawled out beneath him in utter submission. Your body was marked by his passion - teeth marks blooming on the soft skin, on the rolls of your doughy hips produced by the position he kneaded you in. He had you curled in on yourself, knees tucked under your chin, your watery gaze hidden beneath your arms.

Choso's gaze was drawn downward, captivated by the erotic sight of his thick cock that disappeared into your tight, cum-filled pussy. The delicate folds stretched obscenely around his girth, still puffy and glistening from the intense preparation it had taken to work him inside you. Each clench of your velvety walls sent ripples along his shaft, coaxing out more of his seed to ooze out around him.

Oh fuck... fuck, you were so adorable. What was that human saying? You were so adorable...

"...I could eat you up," he whimpered out loud, his head cloudy, raining his pleasure. "I wanna... Please..."

Choso's body pressed against yours, his skin slick with sweat, his muscles taut with exertion. He drove his cock deeper into you, filling you completely, stretching you to your limits. You gasped, a cry of pleasure and pain escaping your lips as he hit a spot deep inside that sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body.

He rocked his hips as he nibbled pathetically at your neck, grinding against your cervix. The wet squelch of his cock churning through the copious fluids inside you was positively obscene. "Please... I wanna... Hum-gh! I can't..."

His body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with sensation. His cock throbbed and pulsed within you, begging for release, for the sweet relief of orgasm. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. It felt like his very existence depended on this moment, on this connection between you two. He needed his fifth. Or his Seventh.

Choso's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of searing kisses in their wake. He nibbled and bit at your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin, the saltiness of your sweat. His hands found your breasts, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until they were hard enough for him to suck on them.

The sensation sent jolts of electricity straight to your core, causing your inner walls to clench and flutter around his throbbing length.

"Choso!" you cried out, your voice high and breathy with pleasure. The sound of his name on your lips seemed to drive him wild, and he let out a low, almost pained groan against your skin.

He couldn't take it anymore, the overwhelming sensations threatening to consume him entirely. Your body was like a drug, and he was hopelessly addicted. With a growl of desperation, he began to move again, his hips snapping forward in a frenzied rhythm that bordered on animalistic.

The bed creaked and groaned beneath you as he pounded into you with reckless abandon, his thrusts lifting your hips off the mattress with each powerful stroke. It was almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

Instead, you met his movements with your own, rolling your hips.

You could've sworn it was night. So why was the sun peeking through your curtains, highlighting your debauchery?