#words are the language of teeth
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choasuqeen · 5 months ago
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group hugs! like a rat king!
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laugtherhyena · 1 month ago
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You know what? Fuck it, have these Nagisa headcanon doodles i made ages back while rambling to my friend (Hi buddyyyyyy)
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corpsentry · 5 months ago
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there’s something so epic about hetero chinese period dramas and i think one part of it is that there is absolutely nowhere in the narrative i could exist.
lately i’ve been on a western media detox— i’ve cleaned english language music out of my playlists and have never been able to stomach western dramas anyway, so that part is easy— which might seem funny, because if i’m in singapore and i hate it and i won’t touch american music then what’s left? the answer is the false binarism of chinese period dramas, at least for me. the badly written ones are misogynistic and stupid and the better ones are less of those things, but regardless the world that emerges is clean-cut and easy to parse. there’s someone to root for and someone to hate. there’s a girl and a boy. there’s the comedy and the drama, the sheer thick drama, the music that signals to you precisely how to feel before the scene even starts going
try to jam a fifth culture transnational transgender they/them with 2 mental illness and 1 autoimmune disease into this world and it simply doesn’t work. and that’s kinda epic lolzers! it’s like watching high fantasy, or super hardcore sci-if. it both represents a simulacrum of the real world and is so far from the reality you know that you understand it as a hypothetical universe, one that disincludes you on principle. i exclude myself from the story and in doing so fangfei from moyuyunjian’s steely gaze becomes all the more important. i give so many shits and laugh and yell and spectate. but i am safe from the eyes of its inhabitants. if i entered the story it would break. so i sit outside of it, clapping by myself
in other news, we gave up on mysterious lotus casebook 16 episodes in. there are many character archetypes in these shows that i can no longer stand; the salacious sexy seductive supervillain lady is not necessarily one of them but the way they did miss ‘this man didn’t even Look at me when all men fall at my knees so i hated him’ ‘no one is allowed to steal buttchin from me’ jiao was way up there. surely a woman can have multiple personality traits and yet you would think from this drama that that is not at all true. and the strange harem that grew around li lianhua despite his absolute loser attitude— like i get it, he’s the gintoki of this show, that’s hot, but the way the women who were into him were written made me want to Eat Horse. it bothered me that di feisheng and lianhua’s homo as fuck dynamic was so intriguing and them + fang duobing was a winning trio but all the women in the show were written like complete fucking ass, and one of the big antagonists being a woman, the stakes throughout were not only lost to me but also Pissed Me Off. also, that case about the corpse flowers dragged on forever and all my pocky wilted
I Just Think, women deserve better in these damn stories. make them slutty as hell, sure, but make them other things too and i mean this in the most generous sense. slutty and proud. slutty and weird. slutty and oblivious. literally anything at all so they don’t come out cardboard flat from all angles. this is why i have a personal vendetta against the ditzy clueless female protagonist as well because if everything stems from the fact that she doesn’t know shit it’s like please someone Please tell her shit i’m on my hands and knees begging. give her more to chew on she’s dying of boredom over there
this is why i liked the so called antagonist of blossoms in adversity best (spoilers ahead). he was cruel as hell to huazhi and gu yanxi’s only parental figure. he was paranoid and selfish and lonely and craved a son’s love from the one person he couldn’t hold onto. in the end he is pushed further and further by huazhi, who won’t give in, to isolate yanxi from the people he loves and to lash out at those people as a way of punishing yanxi. and when he dies it’s because of his own distrust, his own negligent parenting, his absent cruelty from decades of insomnia and lack of faith in his people. but he cries for yanxi, and there’s something so human about that. to think of evil not as a first principle but rather an adjective for a verb that is set in motion by other events. to be honest, i haven’t seen such thoughtful writing in any chinese period drama before or after that and i strongly suspect i will never see such writing again in this genre but man, it was so fucking good (spoilers end).
in the meantime, i’ve dragged my mother to moyuyunjian/the double for the return casting of liu xiening and wang xingyue who are Eating so hard. they’ve got wang xingyue done up with the sluttiest makeup and liu xiening is breaking my heart with her pout and her Sassy Mean constitution and this is a revenge story, yes, but it’s a double revenge story. it’s a grief story. and fangfei is carrying more on her shoulders than lingbuyi imo, and doing so with much more grace too. her step mom’s a dick but she’s a smart, 5d chess playing dick who wears hot shades of green so i’m personally interested enough to keep watching (something lotus casebook DID NOT accomplish with their epic female antagonist…. mein gotte). and the princess too. unhinged as hell but god, so charismatic. and beautiful, with scary big eyes and the sweetest head tilt. fun fun fun! that’s fun character writing right there. the comedy might be too straightforward for my tastes but everything else is kind of hot and sexy And after the coming of age ceremony when jiangli appeared amidst the flowers i felt my throat close up even though we saw her for all of one (1) episode). i was like yes. they got me alright. i Care now
really that’s all that matters isn’t it. we want stories about people we care for. we want to give a shit. why else would we listen to the stories of other people. we are looking for us and the people we love in them
oh also moyuyunjian soundtrack goes hard as hell i love a little three step waltz. here’s a pic from the ‘gym’ for ur time. guten night
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#gelmo#i get so. i get so angry when women write ass female characters like fr ur kicking urself in the crotch rn#you can be innocent/clueless about The World and still be so compelling#thinking about guxiang from word of honor. she was goofy and oblivious but she also had Teeth#and she was strong! and had opinions and stuff#so important to have opinions….. especially in the pre internet age#i hage so many more thoughts on this topic but i took melatonin which should knock me out so#this is not a well organized argumentative essay this is just me yapping in an empty room#but yeah i was disappointed at lotus casebook. particularly given its high as fuck reviews#reviews? i mean ratings. and stellar reviews or whatever#also the ending (sans 24 episodes of context granted) was ASS i was like ??? it’s over ??? surely not#idk it didn’t work for me. glad it worked for some other homies. fang duobing let me rescue u and the dog from this shit ass story#anyway……….. i have been unable to listen to english language music in some weeks now#this is quite major for me. given my 2 year indie folk phase. but i need a break from america and the ideological west at large#no more taylor biden…. justin kahan…………#just my chinese drama insert songs nct 127’s sixth album WALK and jacky cheung#it’s true i keep landing myself in these spots where i’m sick of america and i’m sick of singapore so how are my friends (from these two#countries) supposed to approach me. well the answer is they are not the country but it’s trhe i am in one of those weird holes right now#glad i’ll be leaving in august briefly! watch me go. awooooo
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velaraffricate · 8 months ago
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i think i might call my cards "sakam", and i looked the word up on wiktionary out of curiosity and
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i need an etymology so so badly
[image description: wiktionary screenshot of an entry in tagalog that reads: noun. sakam. temporary enjoyment of advantage allowed to one's opponent in a game or contest by not showing or using one's true strength or know-how at the start. end description.]
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torahtot · 7 months ago
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i love when my moms siblings or relatives come over bc they get into a feedback loop of throwing yiddish words at each other & they don't even get how funny it sounds... favs from today are geferlech and tzefeift
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fagdykevash · 2 years ago
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does the person who introduced "biting things" as a phrase of self-expression know they changed my mental and physical lexicon. something goes wrong? biting things. something is good? bites things. feeling an emotion i cannot describe? biting things biting things biting things. anyway
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gailynovelry · 9 months ago
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Related to the "don't edit your first draft isn't universally useful advice" thing, we are pleasantly surprised to realize that we did several kinds of editing already for Breathing Gods, and that there's really not that much to tidy up or trim now that we got the whole thing wrapped up.
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autism-corner · 1 year ago
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why does english have such lame-ass words for teeth Y-Y
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mishkakagehishka · 2 years ago
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I wanna be an artist so bad bro what am i doing in college
#during the oral exam the eng prof asked me ''why am i even in college?'' (his usual)#and i was like. genuinely thought to myself ''i'm here bc i have to be.''#like when teachers tell you high school isn't mandatory or when you think college isn't mandatorx#by law? sure. but am i gonna find a job without a higher education? in this economy not even a doctorate would help much#i HAVE TO study something and languages are smth i'd be the least suicidal ab studying#but i want to be. a creative.#i also wanna create unsettling art but that is so much easier with auditory and visual mediums...#but... i'll do my best#i'm an artist which means i can do whatever i want it's all in my hands#if i work hard enough and practice i can write truly unsettling things#i can bring the uncanny valley in words i can use the kafkaesque atmosphere i can present weird things as if they're normal#and make it unsettling both in what's portrayed and HOW it's portrayed#i have two novel wips but i think rather than novels i'm better suited for short stories for anthologies for collections#i'm still exploring and getting to know myself as a writer#it makes me a bit sad and disappointed in myself because it's been about a decade since i thought ''this is my calling''#but i just recently decided horror is what i want to write and i can#not help but also feel joyful and happy about the fact that i'm still finding myself#and that i'm still evolving as a writer and that there are probably still so many things i have yet to find out about my art#but for now. [thru tears and gritted teeth] i am writing a dictionary#but even this ! i am expanding my vocabulary which will help my art :]
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walkawaytall · 1 year ago
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Ah, geez, I’m having to…like…make up details about how the Empire took over Kashyyyk and Ryloth that I’m sure goes against established canon somehow and when did fic writing turn into me creating original lore?! I thought I was here for the banter and friendship and canon-compliant romance and that’s all! What have I become???
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chososrightnipple · 5 months ago
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❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞
a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!
part two.
── დ ──
. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU
▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.
▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.
▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(
▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.
▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.
▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.
▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.
▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.
. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU
▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.
▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.
▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.
▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.
▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.
▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.
▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!
▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.
. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO
▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.
▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.
▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same
▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.
▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.
▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?
▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.
▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!
. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN
▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying
▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.
▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.
▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.
▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.
▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.
▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.
▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.
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choasuqeen · 5 months ago
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#letchaoscommitplagarism2024
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lalunanymph · 10 months ago
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ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ
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༊ 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
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"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." 
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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?" 
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"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. 
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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 !!
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©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.
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outeremissary · 11 months ago
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As Valentine's Day draws closer I must once again prepare to ward off my least favorite ask game making its annual rounds
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sttoru · 3 months ago
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tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’
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“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.
toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.
“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.
“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.
you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.
this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.
you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”
your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.
toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.
the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.
“mamaaaaaa!”
as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.
toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.
you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.
“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.
toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.
“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.
you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.
toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.
it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;
“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”
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satorena · 3 months ago
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#BUILD-A-BLOB !?
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bad ☆ summary. good news? your nephew’s birthday gift to you definitely works. bad news? turns out to be a cranky four armed creature that nags at everything you do. good / bad news? he’s smokin’ hot and you wanna fuck him nasty. seriously, what the fuck.
cw. explicit content. foul language. monsterfūcking. blobkuna to true form!kuna. double penetration. anāl. deepthroăting. cunningūlus. pūssy slapping. bāckshots. belly bulge. creāmpie. degradation (he calls you mean things) overstimulation. dumbification. mentions of drug usage. sukuna speaks like he has a stick up his ass. pōrn without plot. 4.4k words.
rena’s ☆ note. guys i’m giggling so hard at the gif HELP
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“the fuck are ya starin’ at?”
technically speaking, you think you’re looking at a seven foot monster with more arms than you can count, more mouths than necessary and much more tattoos than you can see. just a minute ago, this entity had been an ugly formless blob with a singular eye and bucked teeth that sat against your window, forming incoherent sentences as “me want water”, “me need light” or your personal favorite, “me want you to fuck off”.
you’d left to check on your plants momentarily, coming back to your living space to find that the blob had transformed into a . . . human? something along the word that you use very loosely.
he stands tall and proud and very naked— though unimpressed, toned arms crossed and ass cheeks facing the world outside. you can see the reflection of his clenched buns through the glass and— is that a fucking tramp stamp?
“i’m thinking. . . what used to be my birthday gift,” you answer slowly, brows pinched in confusion as your head tilts. it’s below you, sure, but you can’t help staring at what’s below him. surely it’s the weed catching up to you because there’s no way that, “is that— holy shit, is that two dicks?”
“perverted woman,” the man (question mark) clicks his tongue, as if he isn’t the one dressed in his birthday suit, asshole bearing for pedestrians outside to file public indecency on you. “your reaction suggests you’ve never witnessed the presence of two at once.”
“well. . . no,” he stares at you as if you’re the one with four arms and abnormally long legs. you crouch down, index finger scratching at the corner of your mouth to analyze it some more. you were curious, nothing more! you feel the multitude of his eyes trailing your movements, daring you to proceed forward. he truly doesn’t know you.
they stack atop one another, though both sizes are nothing to scoff at. packing in both girth and length, they stand tall and semi hardened, with curves to the right. he’s got prominent veins running all over his skin, mushroom tips an angry shade of reddish brown. frowning, you peek your head lower to confirm following suspicions,
his tone is rough along the edges, “i do not possess four testicles.” damn it.
“boo, you suck,” you sigh, indeed disappointed by the confirmation. you’d think a monster with monstrous limbs and monstrous cocks would own monstrous balls. “whatever.” you stand back up on your feet, though you’re met with hard ripples of glistening abs.
“so like,” you pause, now shamelessly staring at his torso with shimmering eyes. he’s ripped with an eight pack, waist snatched like a motherfucker and skin inked like a colouring book. “what do i call you?”
you think you hear him chuckle, “how foolish,” a mouth then appears on his stomach, to which you jerk back from how sudden it was. your brows jump to your hairline, eyes widening as teeth bare at you menacingly. “it is common decency to introduce yourself firsthand. have you no manners in the presence of a king?”
“a who?” you squawk, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. this four-armed freak was a king? from where exactly? you shake your head, as if to turn off your inner monologues and quiet the voices down, “right, right. erm, you can call me y/n.”
he repeats your name slowly, followed by a deep chuckle. the rumble of your name against his voice sends a weird tingle down your gut, as you crane your neck upwards to finally look him in the face.
you gulp. damn it, he was attractive all around. though morally questionable, you found his features dashing. sure, there was the weird thing stuck in the side of his face that resembled a mixture of flesh and wood. and yeah, he had an additional set of slender eyes. however, his facial harmony somehow blended perfectly. his facial structure was sharp all around, from his nose bridge to his jawline, and his ears with pierced.
what more could anybody want?
blame it on the sativa or the fact you hadn’t been fucked in a while, but it was your birthday and you want your birthday gift, damn it. there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that— the pulsing at your core had your thighs rubbing together subtly (you hoped) (he smirked when he noticed your legs shifting) (fuck, he already knows).
“you will address me as sukuna, mortal.” he says instead, one of his arms mounting to grasp at a piece of your hair. he’s beefy, big biceps surrounding your peripherals as they flex hard. he twirls your hair between his fingers, and shit, you’re gonna need his nail technician’s reference.
“you talk like you have a stick up your ass,” your voice sounds distant, as distracted as you are, perverted eyes trailing to follow the bulging of his muscles. even his forearm is sexy, a large vein running course beneath his skin amongst others. “you ask for my name and choose to call me mortal? corny.”
“i am not a product of this time,” he riddles, tugging at the strand in his hold. the searing pain of his tug at your hair has you moaning— in agony or pleasure, who truly knows— and before you know it, he spreads the rest of his large fingers at your scalp, “you say i speak as if i have a stick up my ass,” shivers run down your spine when his fingernails scratch at your head, “but really it is you who wants my stick up yours, huh?”
you blink. how the fuck did he know? “th-that’s not even remotely true—”
“do not lie,” another arm lifts to cup at your face. his index rests beneath your jaw as his thumb sits at your chin. you feel the sharp edges of his nails grazing at your skin, “your scent is rather . . . pungent.”
you feel heat quickly spread to your cheeks and your panties effortlessly dampening. he smirks, dipping his thumb into your parted mouth, before scrunching his nose into a whiff, “ah, there it is again.”
the pad of his thumb swipes against your bottom lip, skin collecting your saliva before rubbing the fluid all over your mouth. you feel the tip of his nail poking into the flesh, and your brows furrow, “and you called me the perverted one.”
“that remains true.” another— jeez, how many more— arm snakes at your waist. it creeps below your shirt and sits at your bare skin, a touch so warm it sends jolts of electricity across your limbs. his hand rests at your lower belly, and when a wet tongue drags itself across your sensitive skin, you clamp your lips down around his thumb in a whimper, “you’re an obedient one. i think i’ll have fun with you.”
your brows furrow as your cunt clenches. his smirk deepens and, fuck you really need to stop doing that, “have fun with me?”
“it has been a while since i’ve fooled around with a mortal,” he hums, slipping his thumb out of your mouth. there’s a thin string of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingertip, and you hate how you already crave the salty flesh back in your mouth. “let us see just how weak the human body truly is.”
somewhere along the lines, you find yourself on your knees in your living room, carpet digging into your kneecaps as your fingers interlock at your back. your jaw aches, to the point of snapping as two fat cocks shove themselves down your throat. you breathe through your nostrils as your mouth is clearly occupied, fat tears dotting at your lash line and dribbles of saliva slipping past your lips and down his cocks.
two of his hands grasp at your head as leverage, hips thrusting up and down your throat. the gags that escape you are pornographic, throat muscles clenching around the intrusion. fuck, the strong musk of his pubic hairs cloud your senses and overwhelm your mind— driving you dizzy in arousal.
“loosen up yer throat,” sukuna commands, though you find it contradictory as another one of his abnormally large hands wrap themselves around your throat. he presses just lightly, as if to trace over the bulge of his dicks inside of you, but the lack of oxygen has your body liquifying in heat. you think you see stars, and your pupils start to dilate. “c’mon mortal, don’t pass out on me now— we’ve only just begun.”
easy for you to say, you roll your eyes, though complying to his orders. shit, it’s really hard to breathe but you can’t deny you love how objectifying all of this feels. bounding your own hands back, kneeled in front of this king, hair grouped up in one hand to tug onto. he was using you as if you were merely a toy for his own pleasure, mushroom tips repeatedly abusing the walls of your throat.
your cunt clenches around air, gushing more of your essence against the flimsy material of your panties. his stomach clenches tightly, as do his thigh muscles, the embodiment of man in front of you, destroying your throat.
fuck, your clit throbs.
the king coos at you degradingly, ruby eyes narrowing down at your figure, “awnn, ‘s it too much for ya?” you feel a wad of spit land on your cheek, and despite the nastiness of the actions, the filthiness has you clenching your thighs together. of course he finds pleasure in your desperation, leaning back further into the couch to cock his head at you, “humpin’ on yerself like a desperate slut beggin’ for a proper dicking. how pathetic,”
you nod your head eagerly, as your mouth fails to express just how badly you do want him. he’s so deep down your throat, you swear you feel him near your heart. the sting at your scalp plus the lack of oxygen and your need to have him stuff you full drives you wild with want— so desperate that tears leak through your eyes, stream down your cheeks and land right at his dicks.
“mhm, i’ll take care of ya,” sukuna cuts himself off with a deep groan, sliding further down into his seat. he shifts his hips deeper down your throat, and you gag terribly loud, “you hungry, mortal? open wide and, fuck, take what i give ya—” another grunt leaves him, and as does thick ropes of cum do.
your eyes widen as you’re greeted with hot cum shooting down your throat. it’s creamy, thick and so, so much of it that you’re certain swallowing it all would be impossible. your cheeks hollow as you attempt in your best efforts to gulp him down, the flavour of salty semen bursting at your taste buds.
“greedy bitch,” he chuckles through a moan, grinding his hips in rotations as he rides down the high. sweat dribbles down the crevices of his abs, stomach clenching hard as he empties his balls in you. “thaaat’s it—shit, not fuckin’ bad.”
when he finally pulls out, you gasp loudly for the sweet air you had been deprived of. your body trembles as you release your own hold, hands flying up to grasp at his thick thighs. your fingernails scrape at his skin as your chest heaves.
“y’re so,” you pant, and you can barely register how broken your voice sounds. did his cocks destroy your vocal chords already? “y’re so fuckin’. . . mean.”
“too much?” sukuna cackles, though he’s nowhere near sounding apologetic. his fingers cupping your face swipe at fallen tears on your cheeks. at the feel of a wet tongue licking at your damp skin, you pout in retaliation, brows furrowed and swollen lips puckered, “better get it together, ‘m gonna stretch that pussy out.”
damn it— he had such a way with words. you subconsciously lean your cheek further into his touch, and the grin he gives you is barbaric, “face down, ass up.”
so yeah, you find yourself with your cheek pressed into the softness of your couch, hips pulled up and thighs spread as sukuna feasts. the panties you once wore stuffed in your mouth, they muffle the wanton sounds that rip out your abused throat.
you feel his tongue lap at your folds hungrily, fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for better access. he tongue fucks into your hole, lips sucking and nibbling at your clit with precision. wet heat intrudes your insides and have your stomach tightening.
fingernails scratching at the couch, your back arches as you grasp at anything for support. having multiple mouths should be illegal— you feel tongues trailing all over your thighs and the dip in your back, you feel them rimming at your backside. you even think you feel one diving into your ass.
“mmph, m‘kunaaa!” you wail, toes curling as you push your hips further into his face. you’d never been eaten out as good as he is, nose deep in your cunt as your insides get devoured. you’re so overwhelmed— your puffy clit secreting essence as a slick tongue flicks at the bean.
a hand slaps once, twice at your ass as another pair of hands grip at your plush flesh. “shut th’fuck up,” he speaks into you, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers up your spine. you roll your eyes to the back of your skull, foot shaking uncontrollably. when the hands cupping at your breast begin tugging at your nipples, tongues flicking the stiff bud, you feel your dam erupt.
“mmfuuuuckkk!” you whine, as your cunt gushes in his face. he never lets up, tongue repeatedly scissoring your hole as he swallows your juices. you’re squirting so much it drips all over his face and down the suede couch, down your thighs. you think your soul had been taken by this damn near succubus with how long it takes for you to come back to your senses.
he pulls back with a nasty smack from his lips to your lower ones, using the back of his hand to wipe at any excess fluids, “sweet cunt,” he praises you, and you weakly whine, body drained of energy as you fall limp into the soaked couch. you’re out of it, bottom lip quivering as your limbs tingle in bliss— you feel your lids growing heavier by the second but sukuna is having none of that, “aht aht— where the fuck d’you think yer goin’?”
you feel pair of hands pull your hips back up and another grab a handful of your hair in a steady hold. you’re immediately pulled up on all fours, and you whimper at the firm blows he lands yet again on your ass.
he lifts himself on his knees, and you feel his hardnesses rub against the curve of your booty, “told you i was gon’ stretch this pussy out— ‘m a man of my fuckin’ word.” and shit, you think you push your ass back against his leaking cocks, dragging the beady fluids all over the softness of your skin.
your back arches sinfully as you spit out the soaked panties from your mouth and onto the floor. the slide of his dicks in between your thighs has your stomach heating in lust, the drags of his tips at your clit reenergizing you faster than you’d like to admit.
“mmhm, that’s it,” he grumbles into the supple skin at your neck, grazing his fangs teasingly at the flesh and his warm breath further dampening your skin. the large hands that cupped at your waist now lean you forwards against the arm of the couch, and you suddenly feel a lot of blood rushing to your brain. your arms feel weak as they support your body weight, your back arches like a cat and legs stretched out—
holy shit, are you hanging off the fucking couch?
“give up and you fall face first onto the damn floor,” the king cackles, as if the funniest joke in the world, as if your cunt wasn’t gushing your essence— begging to be filled and tore apart. your eyes widen comically as your knees buckle just slightly at the feel of his cock rubbing at your clenching hole, “try and keep up, mortal.”
sukuna grips at the base of his first dick, aligning it to your entrance. you hear him hiss as he collects your cum around the circumference of his tip, fingernails digging deep into your waist. fuck, that hurts so good. any further deeper and you’re certain he’d draw blood.
now, you were definitely no athlete the way he took his sweet time teasing you both. you had barely finished coming down from your previous orgasm, and with the excessive blood seeping into your brain, you felt yourself dizzying quicker than you’d anticipated, “kunaaa— hurry, i can’t hold out any longer— ngh fuuuck!”
your nails claw at the wooden floor when you felt him finally bottom out. holy fuck— how many inches was he packing? you could physically feel your pussy stretching out to his size, to accommodate to the intrusion of his ruthless cock into your tight hole. the sudden penetration hurt in a way that had your clit tingling, walls clamping down as if to seize him from moving any further.
“mortal,” he groans deeply, and there goes another spank at your ass. naturally, you clamp down harder. “quit— fuck, squeezin’ so tight. how the fuck am i s’posed to dick you down when you’re grippin’ me like a damn vice?”
“‘s too much!” you argue, though your hips roll around as if to adjust to his unreasonable size. you feel more tears flooding your eyes, and your core aches for a mean pounding. “just. . . gimme a minute,”
“a minute?” he repeats, though his tone is far from understanding. there’s a hint of mischievous dripping from words, and shit, he’s already pulling out. your cunt negates your words, desperately latching onto his length as if to reprimand him from exiting any more. he notices your contradiction, “doesn’t seem like yer pussy needs a minute. gotta tell you baby, i don’t like liars.”
your toes curl as he fucks himself back into you. the moan that rips from your throat is far beneath your ability to stop, and you squeeze your eyes shut. he repeatedly pounds into your cunt, the more the strokes, the deeper it goes. he may as well create an indent in your guts with how intense his thrusts are.
“hnng, ohmyfuckkk,” your back only arches further, the delicious burn of his dick stretching your velvet walls driving your mind delirious. his pace is insane— with every meet of his hips at your ass, you jerk forward, tits jiggling in the process. you feel hands spreading your cheeks for better access, alongside a wad of spit land at your cunt, sealed by a nice slap on your reddened ass.
he’s crushing your cervix. it hurts but you don’t want him to stop. it’s all too overwhelming— the repetitive slaps of his heavy balls at your sensitive clit, the way he digs himself deep into you, rolling his hips to reach all sensitive spots inside your spongy self. god, you can hear how sinful the point of contact between both your bodies as it echoes in the living room.
“creamy fuckin’ pussy,” sukuna grunts, tone so low you assumed he was more so speaking to himself. your wetness had submerged into a thick essence of cream around the base of his shaft, further easing the ruthless slides of his dick into your cunt. you don’t ignore how his second cock twitches against your asshole. “you tryna snatch my damn soul? tsk, greedy slut.”
your arms are giving out. your thighs burn and furthermore— your cunt aches, badly. he’s giving and giving, pounding so mercilessly into your pussy it was as if he were mad at you. you’d never been fucked so profoundly, his tip bullying into you so meanly with the additional mix of blood rushing into your head— fuck, you need a break.
still, sukuna seems two steps ahead of you, slithering an extra arm to your nape and gripping at your hair. two other hands drag your hips backwards in place, simultaneously pushing himself back where he’d once been— snug in the comfort of your warm pussy. “nah, nah, don’t you fuckin’ run away. fuckin’ take what i give you—” he holds you by the hips and lifts you up and down on his cock. you feel your feet leave the couch as a majority of the weight you held onto your palms were lifted. “this is what you wanted. mhm, be a good bitch and own up to your consequences.”
you’re babbling, the idea of you being a toy again for his use, the new angle of his cock protruding inside has drool dribbling down your chin and your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “too d-deep, feel you in my— nghhh, h-heart.”
“‘s that so?” he chuckles heartily, and your mind is too numb to register the weird sting that grows at your forbidden zone. you’re too fucked out to notice what he has in store for you, “let’s double that shit. pierce right through yer mortal heart and mark it my territory.”
a sharp wail erupts, as you’re now filled to the brim with two girthy cocks. it’s an uncomfortable stretch in an area you were far from accustomed to, but in your current position, you’re nowhere near able to stop him. you’re not too sure you want him too— his cocks rubbing against the thin linen that separates your cunt to your ass.
holy fuck, your brain is turning into mush. he’s fucking into you like a madman— both your holes abused by the same pair of hips diving deep into your insides. your limbs feel numb, despite now being lifted into the air. he’s fucking manhandling you, hands holding all regions of your body still as he grinds his cocks in. what an out of body experience— head and tits jerking to the rhythm his hips set.
your guts are on fire, and you recognize this feeling all too well. the same one that has your eyes crossing to the centre of your face and your wet tongue lolling out of your mouth. your breaths are cut short, your tummy bulging into the shape of the king that’s taken control of your entire being.
holy shit.
“atta girl,” sukuna whistles when you spray him unexpectedly. your muscles clench as does your cunt and ass around his dicks, body trembling from an outwardly orgasm racking over you. sukuna never lets up, your crying only spurring him on more, “oh yeahhh, now that’s an ugly face. hah! turns me on.”
you’re snivelling, and you think you feel snot dripping down your nose. through the window where this creature was once an ugly form on nothingness, you watch your reflection. my goodness— how is he not stopping? you feel like you’re gonna die, your soul getting snatched from various regions, the repetitive strokes of his dicks at your most sensitive areas. holy shit, you’re gonna die.
“c’mon, entertain me some more,” he accentuates each word with powerful thrusts, and in return, receives splutters of more juices. you’re leaking like a damn faucet, dripping down your thighs and soaking your soiled couch. your fluids leak down to meet his pair of balls, now lubricated as they slap more intensely at your abused clit.
you’re left wordless. seriously, arms as limp as noodles as they hang to your side, head lolled forward. your mind feels so empty yet so full, the familiar pain of overstimulation now taking over your body. your muscles spasm violently around him, uncontrollably as sukuna takes and takes more of you.
“thankyouthankyouthankyou,” although not entirely sure what you’re thanking him for, the words slip past your kiss-bitten lips and into the thick air. you feel him press his own mouth at the column of your sweaty back, and your chants continue, “thankyouthankyou—”
“what an obedient lil thing,” sukuna coos, and you feel an extra tongue flick greedily at your tight bundle of nerve. your body begins to seize, stomach caving deeply in as you succumb to the pressure, “who’s my good bitch, hmm?”
“m-me.” you answer so weakly that it unsatisfies him. the tongue torturing your clit now bites down onto the bud and you cry out loudly. shit, you’re squirting again.
“i said,” he repeats himself with more finality. the wet squelching sounds of his cocks bullying at your holes overpower his own voice, and you can’t stop the shaking of your body. and with every pause, his cocks slam further and further in, “who’s. my. good. bitch.”
“meeee!” you hic, drool be damned as it seeps past parted mouth and down your throat. god, this was so above you and yet, here you were, getting fucked like your life depended on it. it hurts, hurts so good that you simultaneously want to push and pull from his embrace.
he holds you up higher, and your legs wrap around his waist with your back tucked into his chest. his hands slide from your waist to your inner thighs, now holding you tight against him. your head falls back onto his shoulder and in the midst of your daze, you feel a fingernail trailing down the slope of your neck.
“yeahhh,” he chuckles darkly, eyes narrowing onto your fucked out figure. his eyes then flick to the imprint of his cock penetrating at your belly, followed by the inconsistent tremors of your body. “‘s what i fuckin’ thought.”
somewhere along the line, you’re left boneless in his strong hold as he fucks and fucks and fucks. he’s everywhere at once, a presence so dominating that you’re left as if you have no other choice but to surrender. but that’s exactly all there is to it, no? a king using his pussy to his satisfaction.
“‘m gonna breed this slutty body full of my cum, make you mine. cause that’s all yer good for— ain’t that right baby?” you nod, because of course you do. he’s pounding some more and more, and the warmth that fills your belly to the brim is anything but surprising. he’s grunting in your ear, a string of profanities flowing into the air. he’s cumming so much from both cocks that it leaks past your bruised holes.
his hips roll some more, and both your cunt and ass clench around him greedily, milking him out for every drop he’s worth. he hums against your damp face, dragging the tip of nose through a multitude of fluids. you have a weak smile gracing your lips, and his arms tighten possessively around your tinier frame, “happy birthday indeed, mortal.”
oh my god, you’re gonna die.
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. . .what the fuck did i just write.
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