just a reminder! i don’t do taglists, so please dont ask me to tag u
⭐- best works/most notes
my hero academia; 僕のヒーローアカデミア
yagi toshinori; 八木俊典
for better or for worse; where the reader reacts to all might’s fight against all for one
haikyuu!!; ハイキュウー！
ushijima wakatoshi; 牛島 若利
a sudden change; where you come home drunk, explicitly telling ushijima thoughts you’ve kept to yourself
attack on titian; 進撃の巨人
levi ackerman
unexpected secret; where in a fit of petty revenge, petra accidentally reveals a secret to the survey corps
levi and y/n family headcanons
jujutsu kaisen; 呪術廻戦
gojo satoru; 五条悟
⭐never; nobara and itadori asks megumi about the biggest fight y/n and gojo ever had
in the beginning; the beginning of y/n and gojo
⭐would you still love me if i was a worm; gojo is curious if you’d still love him as a worm
pretty little princess; the two times Satoru saw Tsumiki get sick and his never ending worry
⭐jokes on you: your joke backfires as gojo reacts a little differently than expected
three’s a crowd: suguru leaves and massacres his village, leaving you and satoru to pick up the pieces
the prince, the prince [2]: satoru brings home a son that is not yours (under construction! link still works but it’s under heavy editing)
moon knight
steven grant
blind date; person a saves person b from being stood up
the sandman
morpheus/dream of the endless
⭐love game. i, love game. ii; he has never been a good husband, but a century in captivity might change his mind
saving grace: morpheus is captured by roderick burgess, but is swiftly rescued by his wife
house of the dragon
daemon targaryen
dragon blood: daemon doesn’t often love, and when he does he deals with it in the worse ways possible
aemond targaryen
⭐in the beginning, in the beginning 2: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and alicent’s second son
her silence: it has been a long time since aemond had let his anger get to him
synopsis. spending ebb day together as friends... will you still be friends afterwards?
pairing. rafayel qi x lemurian! non-mc! reader
content/mdni. A TON OF FUCKING. fem!reader, lemurian!reader, non-mc!reader, friends!au, friends-with-benefits!au, more level-headed!reader, dom-then-sub!reader, sub-then-dom!rafayel, needy!rafayel and reader, mean!rafayel, mean!reader, possessive!rafayel, slight dumbification, mention of masturbating (m solo), begging (m and f receiving), cunnilingus with MONSTER TONGUE, cow girl sex, doggy style sex, missionary sex, one cock sex, two cock sex, DOUBLE PENETRATION, OVIPOSITION, MONSTER FUCKING MONSTER, TON OF CUM, CUM PLAY, hair pulling, spanking, protected sex, raw sex, multiple rounds, allusions to anal sex, overstimulation, tummy bulge, teasing, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, partner/mate, good/sweet girl, whore, slut, cockslut, all the good stuff lmaoo), kissing!! SCENT KINK, HAND KINK, TON OF SWEAT, TW: BLOOD, marking, mentions of breeding, mentions of mating.
word count. 8.5k
a/n. prepare your panties! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
the first time it happened, it was an accident.
just two people hanging out, forgetting the current date. just two people, so absorbed by their newly founded human existence that they sidetracked their origins.
just two lemurians, friends since childhood, who, because of circumstances, were pulled together by raw desire to spend the changing of the currents as one.
the first time it happened, it was an accident. the other instances, however, were deliberate.
•••
you were standing in the fluorescent-lit purgatory of the 24/7 convenience store, a basket hanging from your elbow with an xl pack of condoms already inside.
“what else, what else…”
the air conditioning was too cold, raising goosebumps on your arms, brushing over the sprinkle of scales already adorning your skin. the cool air was combatting the warmth from the outside, but there was a deeper heat slowly coiling low in your belly, pulsing harder and harder, overtaking your very being quietly — a heat that couldn’t be tamed by the artificiality of the cooling device.
you’ve been feeling it for hours. the telltale thrum, the hypersensitivity of your skin, the way your gums ache faintly where your fangs wanted to push through.
ebb day is tomorrow. officially.
you still have a few hours to prepare.
your phone unexpectedly buzzed against your skin, a frantic, continuous tremor that has you fumbling for it. rafayel’s name light up the screen, a silly picture of him trembling together with the vibrations.
you swiped to answer, a teasing remark already on your lips.
“if you’re calling to back out–”
“please.” his voice cut you off, and it sounded wrong. it was not the smooth, sultry baritone he usually wielded like a weapon, articulating witty remarks at your expense. it was breathless, strained, cracking at the edges. “please, come over.”
you froze between aisles, your hand tightening on the phone. “rafayel?”
“i need you.” a low, fractured whine escaped him, and the needy sound went straight to your core, igniting the latent heat into a sudden, roaring blaze. “it’s… it’s early. it’s so early. i thought i had more time but it’s… i need you now.”
you could picture him too clearly.
at his seaside manor, in the vast, luxurious bedroom, with the curtains wide open, welcoming the full moon. rafayel, welcoming you, sprawled on his massive bed, his pale skin flushed and beaded with sweat, his hair a disheveled mess of purple.
you imagined him grasping his phone with a trembling hand, spotted with scales, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted in gasps.
fangs peeking through oh so beautifully.
“i’m at the store.” you said, your voice coming out rougher than you intended, your own state suddenly worsening due to rafayel’s intervention. “i’m getting the things. i’ll be there after checkout–”
“no.” he gasped immediately, and the desperation in his voice was loud, a hook that sunk into your chest and pulled you like a fish out of waters. “too long. ugh– i can’t– please. i can’t wait anymore. i feel like i’m burning up. we have everything here, so...”
“i need you. please, please, just ahhhh– come here.”
the plea was a whisper, broken and sweet, and that did it for you. you’ve always been weak for him. in this human form, in your true one, it didn’t matter; he had you wrapped around his pinky finger since you were children, even if he didn’t always know it.
“raf…”
you wanted to say something stubborn, to remind him that you were buying the very supplies he’ll be grateful for later, but another whimper came through the line, and your resolve crumbled to the ground.
“fine.” you heard yourself say, already turning and abandoning your basket on a shelf, condoms and all. “i’m coming right now. stay on the line.”
he let out a soft, relieved sound, and you could’ve sworn a sloshing noise accompanied his tune. “okay. f–fuck– okay.”
you left the store at a near-jog, the warm night air hitting your flushed cheeks.
the moon was almost up, a perfect, luminous circle in the sky, yet too bright, too full. it made your blood sing, your skin prickling with more and more clusters of scales.
you could still hear rafayel’s breathing on the other end of the line, quick and uneven, punctuated by tiny, swallowed sounds that he’s probably trying to hide.
that, and low, wet sounds — most likely his hand moving lazily up and down his stiff cock.
“tell me how you’re feeling.” you said as you slid into your car, your hand steady on the wheel even as everything inside you was starting to shake.
you have to keep your composure for just a little longer.
you also have to keep rafayel in check and make sure he doesn’t tip over.
“hot.” he breathed into the phone. “everything’s s–shit– too hot. my clothes… i took them off already. i’m just in the sheets. i nghnn– keep thinking about your hands.” his voice dropped, becoming that familiar, teasing cadence even through the haze of the heat.
“you have such nice hands. so soft– ngh– i keep thinking about them on ahh– me. groping me, pinning me down. do you think you can do that?”
your fingers tightened on the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening at his request. “rafayel.”
“i want you to.” he continued, his voice a low, needy murmur. the sticky sounds raised in intensity, no longer just background noise. “i need you so bad. i need you on top of me, baby.”
you pushed the accelerator harder, running a stop sign you didn’t even register. the streets blurred under your hazy vision, the city lights smearing into streaks of color. the heat inside you was building up with every word of his, with every little gasp and hitch of his breath.
rafayel was doing a phenomenal job at riling you up.
“what are you thinking about?” he asked all of a sudden, his voice a silken thread that woke you up. “are you thinking about me?”
“yes.” you admitted bluntly, the word torn from you without much effort.
“nhgh… t–tell me, baby.”
“the way you look when you’re between my thighs.” your voice was steady, booming from the speakers of his phone, but your hands were shuddering now. fingernails threatening to elongate into monstrously sharp claws. “the way you eat me out so good.”
he groaned, a breathless, shattered sound, and his hand sped up. the wetness staining his cock was palpable, the sound harsh yet delicate. “f–fuck yeah, i wanna taste your cunt so bad.”
a pause, then his voice murmured a confession once more. “i need to bury my face in you. i need to smell you. ahhhh– bet you’re drenched already, can almost s–sniff it from here.”
he was right. since the beginning of your conversation, the flimsy material of your panties was nothing but sticky. each and every request of his, delving into his nastiest wishes, generated more gooey arousal, effectively coating your panties in a generous amount of slick.
it also did not help that you were a lemurian, normally producing more slick than a mere human.
thankfully, you were pulling through the gates of his estate, the tires of your car crunching on the gravel driveway. you didn’t even bother parking properly — just killed the engine and eft the car where it stopped.
“i’m here.” you said into the phone, your legs carrying you up the front steps without waiting for another invite.
you swung the door open without a second thought.
rafayel was standing at the end of the hallway, and the sight of him made your clit throb.
he was fully naked, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his hair plastered to his temples. his chest was heaving, his pupils so dilated that his irises were reduced to thin rings of purple. but it was the scales that caught your attention — a scattering of iridescent, pearl-white scales along his cheekbones, down his neck, across his shoulders.
painting his skin, lower and lower.
going beyond the base of his aching cock.
the scales shimmered in the moonlight, catching the light like tiny mirrors.
“baby!” his eyes found yours, and he smiled — a beautiful, unhinged grin, all sharp teeth and raw need. “you came.” he breathed, relieved, taking wobbly steps towards you.
he was deeply affected by the rising full moon, hands jumping away from his sides and searching for support onto the walls.
you were soon to be deeply affected as well as your nostrils inhaled the pheromones dominating the entire mansion: the smell was terrifically strong, a pungent odor that lulled you towards primal desires. you almost stumbled backward from the powerful aroma, palm shooting up and covering the bottom half of your face in an attempt to protect your senses.
“f–fuck, the smell…”
you needed to remain levelheaded.
you needed to remain the rational one, since rafayel was clearly indulging fully in the effects of the moon.
but it was hard. you could already feel your fans poking through your gums, could already sense the tremble in your body as rafayel caught up to you.
your entire being was calling for him, just like his own called for you.
his quivering hands clawed at your dress, pulling you fully inside, the door slamming shut behind you two and effectively trapping you in his den. taking advantage of the defensive stance you took, he manhandled you against the closest wall, caging you perfectly, his body a line of burning heat against yours.
“ah, ah, ah, you…” his face instantly found your neck, burying itself in the seductive dip between your throat and shoulder. and, with a loud whiff, rafayel inhaled your own tumbling pheromones. “ahhh– smell so fucking good.”
he did not stop at that, nuzzling further into your skin, dragging the tip of his nose up towards your pulse point, punctuating the spot right behind your ear. with that, he managed to caress a patch of sensitive scales, eliciting a moan out of your hidden lips, forcing your palm to abandon its post to tangle in his messy locks.
“baby, please, pull ugh– my hair, please.” he started to beg as he felt your fingers latch onto the roots of his hair, body curving into yours more and more.
his legs snuck their way between your own, parting your thighs and allowing his knee to dip into the material of your dress and make contact with your clothed pussy. his arms flew away too, finally taking hold of your torso and putting you into a needy embrace.
“raf, i–”
your voice echoed in his ears, blessing him with the delicious shudder of your tone. but something was wrong, he slowly realized between his hazy thoughts — you have yet to make your move, you have yet to show the same neediness he has been carrying for hours.
“i–is something wrong? no, please, baby…”
he removed his face from your neck, abandoning his mission to devour your scent gland in favor of discovering what was holding you back. a strong feeling of anxiety shook his entire body, and memories of abandonment flashed between his obscene fantasies.
changing the atmosphere entirely.
“go on, raf, it’s okay–”
“n–no.”
you couldn’t resist him, especially not now.
he decided to perch his head on your chest, entire body slouched over your own, and look up at you with his lust-filled orbits. the pout on his lips was dangerous, accessorized by his long and sharp fangs. his legs were now practically glued to yours… and you could feel his heavy cock pressing against your thigh.
“do you not want me, baby?”
oh, he was gonna be the death of you.
“raf, someone h–ngh–as to be rational, i can’t give into pleas–”
“we will be careful, like always…” he cut you off enthusiastically, tightening his hold on your midriff to block any kind of escape. worse, he dipped his face lower into your chest, pressing right against your exposed sternum… and sticking his tongue out to taste your sweaty skin.
“rafayel.” you warned through gritted teeth, gripping the base of his scalp and pulling his head back. but he was ready for such an action, simply letting out more length of his monstrous tongue and continuing his perverse ministration across the peaks of your breasts.
“i k–know what will help!” he chirped between licks, and the sensation of his rough, elongated tongue tracing the delicate flesh of your chest made your resolve shake.
you tried to hold firm, to remember the reasons why someone needed to stay level-headed, but he was a master of persuasion: his hands, which had been so needy and clammy, slid down your hips with a slow, teasing pace. and he stopped when he reached the fabric of your short skirt, fingers twitching at the hem.
“just a taste.” he whispered, long tongue retracting from your skin to wet his lips. “i ugh– to taste your pussy, baby. please.”
his voice was a raspy, desperate plea, and the sight of his body — the way he pressed himself against you, precum wetting the ends of your dress — broke something in you. you were supposed to be the rational one, but the pheromones were a thick haze in your lungs, intoxicating your very being.
your own body betrayed you, the ache between your thighs becoming a pulsing, insistent throb. your firm grip on his hair lessened, hand guiding his head unconsciously down your body, moving him in line with your center.
“ah– j–just a bit...” you breathed, your voice shaking now. “but then we m–”
move to the bedroom — he didn’t let you finish.
a submissive, relieved groan escaped him, and he was already sliding down your body. his bare knees hit the floor with a sharp thud, but he didn’t flinch. you tried to steady yourself, but rafayel had other plans — hiking your right leg up his shoulder, spreading you wide open for him. and you were taken by surprise, fingers curling and pushing his head around from the sudden movement.
“f–fuck yeah.”
he let out a sharp, encouraging moan against your exposed thigh, and you felt his lips press a wet kiss on the newly exposed patch of skin of your knee.
his hands shoot up, scattering the hem of your dress. he pushed the material up around your waist, silently prompting you to hold it down and away from him. the cool air of the hallway licked at your exposed thighs, prickling at your scale-scattered skin.
his gaze dropped, and he stared at the sight before him, cock twitching between his bent legs. the wet spot on your panties was dark and obscene, the cotton perfectly clinging to the shape of your pussy. you were absolutely soaked through, arousal escaping the comfort of your underwear in order to stain your inner thighs.
the rims around his blown-out pupils turned a bright blue, and a devouring hunger flashed across his features.
“oh, my baby.” he breathed, the words almost a whimper. “you’re s–so wet for me. i bet it h–hurts so much.”
he didn’t wait for an actual answer as he leaned forward to thoroughly inspect you. his nose pressed into the damp fabric, and he inhaled deeply, a tremble running through his body as he feasted on your scent. he nuzzled against the soaked cotton, his sharp fangs grazing your sensitive flesh through the thin barrier, and your knees nearly buckled.
your hand forced his head deeper instead of pulling it away, a silent surrender to the powers of the moon.
he took the signal with a groan of satisfaction. his tongue snaked out, long and monstrous, and he dragged the wide, flat of it across the dark spot. he licked slowly, savoring you through the fabric, his eyes rolling back from the aroma.
“you ahh– s’ good.” he mumbled against the fabric, his voice muffled by the fabric and his groans.
but he needed more than just soaked panties. so, with a swipe of his tongue, he wrapped the length twice around the gusset of your panties, tugging the material downwards. you felt the wet cotton drag along your sensitive flesh as it was removed, exposing your cunt entirely to his burning gaze.
“r–raf, please.”
he saw everything: your wet, swollen flesh glistened in the dim light, your clit engorged and peeking out from its hood. a fresh glob of your arousal slid down your inner thigh, and his adam’s apple bobbed at the bodily reaction.
“babyyy…” his breathing hitched, and he slowed down, his entire being focused on the sight and scent of you. “look at you.” he muttered, his voice heavy by lust. “so beautiful, so mesmerizing.”
and before you could form a response, he dived in. his lips glued onto you, and his tongue — still a long, monstruous muscle — latched onto your entire cunt. he licked a wide, flat stroke from your oozing entrance to your pulsing clit, and the feeling of his wet mouth against your slick flesh made you whine.
he did it again, and again, building a rhythm that was ruining you from the inside out. he was starved, licking and sucking and slurping you like an intoxicated man who knew no other flavour.
“rafayel, r–fa–yel!”
you threw your head back, the wall cold against your skull, as you fought for composure. but it was a losing battle: his mouth was too skilled, too curious to discover your pussy. he found every sensitive nerve with the tip of his tongue, swirling around your clit until you were seeing stars, then dropping down to probe at your entrance.
licking up the streams of your juices like they were the only source of water in the world.
you made the mistake of looking down at him. he was on his knees before you, his body trembling with the effort of restraint and desire. his eyes were heavy-lidded, focused solely on his task, and his gills —delicate, slit-like openings on his neck — fluttered slightly as he breathed through them, allowing him to remain glued to you without a pause for air.
he was relentless, dedicated.
he needed you to tip over into your animalistic side.
“i– oh, fuck–”
your voice cracked and morphed into a high, unhinged moan as he circled his tongue around your clit, wrapping it tightly with its length while he sucked the bundle of nerves with his lips. the tip of his tongue dipped lower treacherously, pushing against your greedy hole and effectively overflowing your mushy brain with pleasure.
your hips jerked forward of their own accord, and you felt your fingers drag through his hair, pulling him even tighter against you, demanding more even as you were overwhelmed.
“hmhmm– ngh–” he moaned into you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pelvis.
his hands slid up your thighs, thumbs spreading your lips wider, giving him unrestricted access to every inch of your center. he worked on you with a desperate, submissive fervor, eating you out as if his existence depended on your pleasure.
and it was working. the feeling built and built in your tummy, a coil of heat tightened and tightened with every flick of his tongue.
“al’st.” he gasped, pulling away just enough to see the defeat in your eyes. his lips and chin were shining with your wetness, his sharp teeth shimmering as he smiled at you. “cum in my mouth, please.”
your resolve had shattered the moment his mouth had made contact. so you just nodded frantically, a sobbing whine escaping your lips, and he leaped at the signal. his mouth descended again with renewed vigor, long tongue focusing on your engorged bud. he sucked hard, creating a devastating pressure, while he simultaneously probed the back of his tongue against your entrance, massaging the contracting muscles.
“ah, i’m–”
you came with a cry that echoed down the empty hallway, your body arching off the wall as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through you. your hand forced his face deeper into you, and he drank everything, his moans of ecstasy vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he swallowed your release.
and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, easing you through the shaking aftermath, his eyes locked on your trembling form with a satisfied, devouring gleam.
“ah, a–ah, ah.”
when you finally opened your eyes, you had a good look at his needy, disheveled face, still resting between your thighs. his lips and chin were slick with you, his long tongue still lazily licking at your flesh as if he couldn’t bear to lose the taste. his gills fluttered rapidly, and he smiled up at you — temporary satiated by your pussy.
… or so you thought.
“g–go again?” he pleaded, his voice high-pitched and weak. “please, please, please, ple–”
and you knew why he was begging so arduously: gazing downwards at the floor, you soon realized that he also spilled his release, most likely pushed over the edge by your own orgasm. the floorboards were covered in a thick layer of cum, white and sticky substance staining his thigh and your own resting foot.
“please, baby, one more time– i love your pussy, i–”
you were still trembling from your own climax, chest heaving, gills fluttering on the sides of your neck. but something in his desperate, submissive tone made you sit up straighter, an ounce of rationality still guiding you. yeah, you felt the wetness between your thighs, the echo of his tongue still a pulsing memory, but you knew that you were far from satiated.
the moon’s pull was still in your bones, and his pheromones were a thick haze in the air.
you reached down, took a handful of his wet hair, and pulled his face away from your cunt. the slick was thick, mixed with his saliva, and it created a strong, sticky bridge between his lips and your nether ones.
“m–move…” you commanded, your voice coming out fragmented, tainted by your orgasm and the heat. “bedroom, now.”
his eyes flashed with relief, and he nodded so quickly that his locks flipped against his temples. “yes– yes, baby, anything.” with obedient, trembling hands, he pushed himself up from his knees, his muscular thighs quivering as he rose. he was still weeping, his cock stiff and red, the tip glistening with his own release.
but he made no move to wipe it away, fixated on obtaining you.
before you could step forward, he enveloped you in his arms, both hands sliding under your knees and lifting you as if you were made of feathers. your legs latched around his hips on instinct, your dress riding up to your waist, your naked slick pussy pressing against his abs. he took off with long, hurried steps, his legs no longer staggering.
“c’mere.”
his mouth was on yours before you could process his words.
“so ngh– good t’ me.” he mumbled against your lips, his tongue sharing your aroma. “so beautiful, so perfect– i’m ugh– not deserving.” he kissed you with a wide, open mouth, his sharp fangs grazing your lower lip as he pushed your dress higher with each push.
his words were a stream of subservient praises — celebrating your benevolence in assisting him with his heat — as he carried you through the living room and into the wide, disheveled bedroom. and his mouth never stopped; he fully slurped at your lips, devouring your mouth with the same fervor he ate your pussy.
he loved to caress your fangs with his tongue, grunting between lick as you were finally showing signs of turning.
“ah, ah…”
when he reached the giant bed, he turned and sat down on it, his back leaning against the headboard with a soft thud. he kept you on his lap, your knees straddling his hips, your soaked cunt hovering just above his twitching, dripping cock. his hands were instantly on your body tugging away at the dress, removing it from your body and letting your scale-splotched skin to bask in the full moon.
his sharp digits took a hold of your full hips, nails digging into the soft flesh as he tried to lower your body onto his.
“please, baby.” he breathed, his hips rolling upwards on instinct, his bare cock sliding against your wet slit. “i need to feel you around me– please, i fuck–”
you reached around, your hand finding the nightstand and its drawer, your fingers closing around a square packet. as you were retrieving it, his hands worked all over you, groping your waist, your tits, your thighs with a restless, ravenous need. his cock was jumping against your thigh with each squish of your body, impatient to ease into you.
“let m–me help.” he whispered as he saw you struggle. but you shook your head, at last ripping the packet open with your fangs.
the image made him groan — he loved when you used those fangs.
he wished you’d use them on him.
as you rolled the condom down his length with steady hand, your palm gliding over the latex as you smoothed it down the veiny cock, he gasped, his head throwing back against the headboard, his hips pushing up into your fist.
“fuck– baby, your hand, it’s ngh– so good, i’m gonna–” his words devolved into a strangled moan as you gave him a last, twisting stroke at the base, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from cumming right then.
his gills fluttered rapidly, and his hands clawed at the sheets, his white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping him grounded.
you left him hanging on the edge for a sweet moment, your eyes locked on his trembling stomach and the way his scales shimmered harder. then, with a slow movement, you raised yourself up on your knees, aligned the tip of his cock with your soaked entrance, and slowly began to sink down.
the sensation was electric. his length slid inside you in a smooth, velvety thrust, the latex making it easy but no less intense. you felt him stretch you, push past your greedy muscles that spasmed around him, and you gasped at the fullness. he moaned your name, vibrating against your chest as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder.
“so fucking tight– so wet–.”
“ah, raf, that’s mhm–”
you took a moment to adjust, to feel him settle deep inside you, to take in the way his tip was kissing your cervix. then you began to move — slow rolls of your hips, lifting and sinking, pulling him out until only the tip remained, then sliding back down to the hilt. your clit slapped deliciously against his muscles, and so did his heavy balls against your behind.
his hands flew to your hips again, guiding you, but he never tried to take control; he merely held you, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of your hips with reverence.
“yes, that’s ngh– it, use me.” he implored, his voice breaking into high whinse as you picked up the pace. you rolled your hips in a figure eight, harshly grinding against him at the bottom, and his lips parted on a silent scream. “oh, oh fuck, right there, please, baby–”
you leaned forward, lips bitten, your palms braced against his chest, and you rode him with a ferocious need. every stroke was accompanied by his gasps, the sharp, slutty breaths strung together with your own traitorous ones into a rhythmic chant.
“so good, so good, i’m– please, please, let me cum inside, i beg you–”
his words were slurred, mind so thick with lust he forgot he had a condom on. but he was attentive to you, never taking his eyes off your bouncing body. when you sped up, your thighs burning with the effort, your clit brushing against his pubic bone with every downward thrust, his head lolled to the side in pleasure.
the sensation was heaven for you too: the way his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, vein pulsing just the right way against your walls, the way his hands trembled as they held you, the way his moans sounded like prayers…
“cum for me.” you allowed, your voice raspy and commanding, and that was all he needed.
with a broken whine, he threw his head back, his spine arching off the headboard as he spilled into the condom, his hips jerking up into you with ragged, uncontrollable spasms. his mouth opened in a silent shout and his hands clawed so hard into your hips you knew they would leave bruises.
the sight of him cumming, his face stretched in ecstasy, pushed you over the edge. you rode him through it all, your second climax building and building until it broke. your inner muscles clenching around him as you shuddered through your release.
he whimpered into the air like a mantra: “thank you, thank you, thank you–”.
after a few more seconds, you finally slowed down. with your gills working overtime, your body washed in sparkling sweat, you remained motionless, straddled over him. his aching cock was still inside you, spent once more that night.
but ebb day had just commenced, and a mere fuck was not the solution.
you were still trembling, his overstimulated cock still twitching inside you, when he shifted his hips upwards — a lazy, circular rock which sent a sharp spark through your oversensitive flesh. you whimpered, a needy tune that you hadn’t intended to let out; the sudden trust took you by surprise, hitting your walls in a way that made your whole being shiver.
he did it again, this time with a sharper thrust, his strong hands pushing you down into his cock, and your palms flattened against his chest in a vain attempt to put some distance between the two of you.
“raf– wait, slow d–ah–own a bit.” you gasped, your voice cracking, the overstimulation short circuiting your brain. “i need a second–”
his laugh was low and mean, a strong contrast to the high-pitched moans he freely let out a few minutes ago.
“slow down? why? you’re still aching for more.” his hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs with a brutal firmness. his expression was no longer kind and pliant, the barely-there purple of his orbs changing into a blinding sapphire color.
he tutted at your scrunching face, digging his fingers harder into your skin and dragging you forth against his chest. “no, no, baby. i don’t like that.”
“raf?”
“you’re not gonna fight what you are. you’re a lemurian in heat, just like me… giving in is not a choice.”
before you could respond, he twisted out of you with a squelching, wet pop and shoved you forward onto the sheets. you tumbled onto the mattress, hands and knees catching you as he positioned you around like a puppet. his palm pressed the small of your back, forcing your spine into a beautiful arch, your face pressed into the pillows.
it happened in a blink of an eye, your body going pliant and obeying the desires of the man behind you. you could no longer see him, with your head buried in his cushions, but you could hear the shift of his weight as he knelt behind you, the heat of his body washing over your exposed skin.
shit, he was taking a dominant stance now — the predator inside him most likely no longer pleased by your ‘controlled’ approach to ebb day.
but you had to stay strong. you had to stop him from fulfilling the mating ritual since you were not his beloved. you had to–
“look at you.” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension, blue eyes taking in the sight before him: you, face down, ass up, supple flesh drenched and quivering with arousal. “so fucking wet… and you still have the nerve to tell me to slow down. pathetic.”
his fingers traced down your curved spine, pausing at the swell of your ass. then down to your used hole. with delicate fingers, he touched the gaping rim of the condom still lodged inside you, dragging it slightly out of you. you flinched, back arching even more, hips pushing into his touch unconsciously.
“a condom too… ruining all the fun.” he clicked his tongue, low and mean, but chose to abandon the rubber for now. he decided to reach around to find your clit, his skilled thumb pressing against it with just enough pressure to make you tremble into the sheets.
“you think you’re in charge, hm? you’re nothing but a slutty little whore who needs to be reminded of her place.”
he circled his thumb over your swollen bud, slow and torturous, while his other hand kept you pinned down. you whined, your hips pushing back instinctively, seeking more friction, but he was having none of it: he smacked your ass hard, the sharp slap echoing in the room as it landed on your flesh.
“don’t you dare act on your urges now. you’ll get what i give you, when i give it.” he warned as he increased the pressure on your clit, his movements forming teasing figure eights. you writhed against the sheets, tried to push back and speed him up, but his hand on your spine kept you arched and immobile.
“p–please.” you whined, your voice pitching high, now mirroring the state he was previously in— flushed face, dilated pupils, consumed by the urge to be used. “raf, i need–”
“you need to shut up and take what’s given.” he cut you off, his tone cold and superior. he removed his thumb without warning, and you whimpered in loss, eyes bubbling with tears from his cruelness. “see? that’s what you get for being impatient. now be a good girl and wait.”
wait?
for what?
he reached down, fingers curling around the rim of the condom still inside you. with a slow, torturous pull, he removed it. the sensation of the latex sliding out making you shiver, hole gaping in dissatisfaction. your cunt was practically begging for the rubber to return, for something to be inside it once more.
“greedy pussy.”
he pinched the tip of the condom, dangling it above your stinging flesh, and, with his thumb and index finger, he pressed and dragged out... letting the thick, white semen spill all across your ass. throwing the empty rubber away, he then smeared his cum over your cheeks with a rough, possessive stroke, making sure to dip his fingers over your asshole and the perineum.
the warm, sticky sensation made you cry out, and he laughed again.
“you like that, don’t you? being marked with my cum?” he rubbed the cum lower, into your slit, working it into your wet folds until you were dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his seed. “you were so dumb for putting on the condom.”
and with that vitriolic remark, he positioned himself behind you once more, the mushroom head of his engorged cock prodding at your slutty entrance. he rubbed it up and down, teasing the flesh without pushing in, controlling his urge to breed you for the sake of hearing you beg.
and you began to sob, pleas leaving your bitten lips with ease.
“p–please, raf, just fuck me, i need it so bad, please–”
“aww, look at you now — beg harder.” he purred, his tip still tracing slow circles over your hungry hole.
“please! please, rafayel, i beg you, just put it in, i’ll be good, just fuck me–”
“there it is.” he smirked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “but oh, i’m sorry, baby– i think we’re out of condoms. what a shame.” his tone was condescending, and he rolled his hips just enough to press the head inside.
before pulling back. “i can’t–”
“i don’t care.” you babbled, your mind now a blur of heat and hunger. your previous carefulness was entirely wiped by your animalistic desire to be mounted and taken by rafayel. “j–just do it, fuck me raw! i need your ugh– cock inside me, please, raf–”
“finally.”
without other comments, he thrusted in one sharp, brutal motion. you screamed, but not in pain — the overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled without any barrier felt heavenly. his hard cock, littered with scales, plowed into your soaked cunt until his hips smacked against your ass, his balls swaying against your swollen clit.
“yes.” he groaned, his voice now raspy with his own need. “this is where you belong: spread open for me, taking my cock like the cockslut that you are.” he pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, the squelch of your juices and his cum making a loud, obscene sound.
“fuck, you’re so warm, so wet, so fucking good.”
he set a ferocious pace, his hips jutting into you with the starved intensity of an animal in rut. each thrust hit that spot inside you, making your spine curve into him more and more. and you were kept in that deep arch by his strong arms, your voice reduced to a stream of moans and whines as it got drowned out by the pillows.
“ngh– baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” he grunted, his hand snaking forward to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back. “greedy girl, sucking me ah– so hard.”
“tell me you’re mine. tell me this is what you wanted.”
“‘m y’rs.” you gasped, the words tumbling out in stutters as you squeezed around his rugged scales. “gods, yes, fuck me harder, please–”
he released your hair with a satisfied moan and doubled his efforts, his strokes becoming messy and unhinged. he was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock throbbing against your walls, the tip kissing your cervix with every slam. his length seemed to grow inside you, expanding and stretching your sensitive walls in all dimensions.
you were completely affected by ebb day now, your pleasure so strong you could no longer separate where your being ended and his began.
but the night has just begun, and so did rafayel.
you felt it before you saw it: a second pressure, a new sensation against the flesh of your ass. another cock, thicker and more brutal in its proportions, had emerged from the base of his first and sprung upwards, settling directly between the sweaty valley of your cheeks.
it was a monstrous thing, wet with its own pre-cum, rocking against your asshole in tune with his other cock.
“is that– ugh–”
with every slam of his hips into your soaked cunt, this second cock rubbed relentlessly against your tight, untouched asshole. the friction was addicting, a blunt force that glided over the twitching rim of your second hole with every forward push.
you could feel the ridges of it, the scales that dragged across your delicate skin, and it made your eyes roll back from the pleasure.
“you feel that, baby?” he grunted into your ear, his voice a condescending purr. “my other cock, itching to breed that pussy too. you’re so fucking soaked, i am sure it will ngh– slip right in.”
you couldn’t respond. you were beyond speech, your face buried in the sheets, your voice reduced to a high, siren-like whine that filled the room.
the way his second cock humped against your asshole, the way his first cock was still plunging into your cunt — it was a sensory overload that threatened to spill all over. you clenched around him, trying to drag him deeper, and he groaned, leaning over your arched body.
“can’t even fuckin’ answer me.” he snarled, his pace slowing for a moment as he leaned down, lowering his sweaty chest against your back.
his sharp mouth found the juncture of your neck and shoulder, your pulse point, and he opened his jaw wide. his fangs grazed your flesh, a heated, demanding pressure falling over your skin.
he was…
“you want this so badly, don’t you? you want me to claim every hole.”
going to bite. he was going to mark you as his mate.
panic lashed through the fog of your lust. you were not lovers: you had agreed to this arrangement solely to protect his future beloved from the primality of the lemurian heat. so your arm shot up before you could think it over, your forearm wedging itself between his lips and your neck just as his jaws clamped down.
“ah.”
his fangs sink into your flesh with a wet, ripping sound. the pain was sharp and immediate, a burning sensation that made you scream into the pillows. you felt the hot trickle of blood cascade down your arm, and he let out a surprised, muffled groan around your limb.
his cock slid out of you during the chaos, leaving you suddenly empty and weak.
“n–no!” you cried, your voice a shaky mess of pleasure and desperation. “not that! rafayel, we aren’t– we’re not lovers! you can’t mark me like this. you have to save yourself for your chosen one, you know that.”
he froze — he stayed still, his fangs still embedded in your forearm, his breath hot against the wound. then, slowly, he released you. his jaw unclamped, and he licked the blood from his lips with a slow, seductive swipe of his tongue. but his eyes had changed. the lust was still there, but now it was underlaid with something far more dangerous: a cold, rageful possessiveness.
“you dare...” he said, his voice dropping to a level of condescending fury that made you shiver. “you dare tell me who to save myself for? you dare speak of a ‘chosen one’ when you’re the only one who has ever made me feel this?”
before you could respond, he moved with unnatural speed. his hands gripped your hips and with a brutal twist, he flipped you over like you were no more than a rag doll. you landed on your back, the sheets cold and damp against your sweaty skin. he was on top of you in an instant, his legs knocking yours apart as he settled his weight between your thighs.
his first cock pressed against your soaked entrance, and his second one rested heavily against your clit, both of them drenched in bodily fluids.
“you foolish woman.” he snarled, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. his eyes were gleaming blue, his scales catching the light like the facets of a gem. “there is no other chosen one. there is only you. you’re the one i want. you’re the one my body and my soul demands.”
“r–raf?”
“and i will not be denied.”
he thrusted forward, sheathing his bottom cock inside you in one single, devastating move. you were so wet, so inviting; there was no resistance, only a lewd, obscene squelch as your fluids started to froth at the juncture between your bodies.
you whined out a broken approval, and he groaned in triumph above you.
“that’s right.” he confirmed, rolling his hips harder and harder to pick up his previous pace. “your body knows the truth, even if your mouth lies. you’re mine.” he began to pump into you, his strokes sharp and possessive as he, once more, descended closer to your face.
“you can beg all you want for a different fate, but you will never escape this. you will never escape me.”
and with that, he sealed his lips over yours.
your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded you into the mattress. your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper, traitorously consenting to his declaration even as your mind spun with lust. he leaned forward more and more, trapping you under his massive frame, and he kissed you brutally, tangling his long tongue with your and forcing you to taste your own blood.
“say it out loud.” he demanded against your mouth, his pace never faltering, his mouth carefully traversing lower to your pulse point again. “say you’re mine. say it and i will fully take you, my mate.”
“i’m yours!” you wailed, the words torn from your very soul as his fangs scratched your skin in warning. “i’m yours, rafayel! please, just don’t stop, don’t you dare stop–”
a prideful, predatory grin spread across his features. he slowed his pace as his jaw opened once more, trying to time his movements to offer you the most intense pleasure. pulling out almost all the way, his tip snagging onto your hole, he stuck out his tongue to wet your skin as his hand lowered to his cocks… pressing his second length snug to his other and preparing it for penetration.
“ngh– raf– ah–”
as he plunged his fangs into your neck, finally marking you as his mate by drawing blood, he also rutted both cocks into your hungry cunt. the immense quantities of arousal lubed everything, allowing his two dicks to press deep into your without much difficulty.
and his timing was perfect, getting you to orgasm with a perfect o on your lips as he rocked your whole world.
“that’s right.” he purred, moving his head to nuzzle at the bloody bite on your skin, licking the wound with soft strokes of his tongue. “you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”
and as he spoke, he picked up his pace once more, the slap of his balls against your skin filling the room, his resolve renewed. you were cushioned beneath him, a trembling mess, a willing partner to desire, and as he watched you fall apart beneath him — your eyes rolling back, your moans a constant chant — he too was pushed over the edge once more.
unlike last time, his thrusts stumbled into a rhythm that was clumsy but deep, as if he refusing to let go of you. unlike last time, you felt a swelling at your entrance, the way his top cock, the one that had been pressing against your clit moments ago, now grew in thickness.
the sensation was overwhelming. your walls were stretched further, and you could feel his cocks throbbing deep inside, ready to spill.
“breed.” he groaned against your neck, lips bloody, voice raspy. “let me fill you. let me breed your sweet cunt.”
and he did.
his top cock began to inflate at the base, the tissue swelling into a something that locked him deep within you. you whimpered in pleasure as the first shiny, pearl-white ovoid passed through his urethra and into your hole —a smooth, rounded glob that stretched you to the fullest before it settled inside you.
then another, and another, and another. each one leaving a trail of warmth as it popped through his cock and deposited itself in deep inside you. his hands stopped flat against your stomach, to keep you from moving away, and he felt the bulge begin to rise.
the eggs were gathering together with his thick cum.
“yes, yes.” he murmured, his tone a mix of wonder and satisfaction, eyes glassy with lust. “so many eggs already. and there’s more for you.”
he kept pumping, each thrust squeezing another round egg into you, and with it came wave upon wave of thick, pearlescent cum that filled every remaining crevice. your tummy bulged more and more, the skin stretching tight until you could feel the weight of his eggs sinking low inside you. you were so full that you couldn’t tell what was cum and what was ovoid; you only knew that he was still pumping, still depositing, still claiming.
“r–rafayel, i w–will ugh– i can’t hold– nngh!”
your protests were swallowed by another orgasm as he rutted his final drops into you, the bottom cock twitching inside you as it added its own thick semen to the swelling pool. your tummy was now a pronounced curve, the skin taut and shiny, and you could feel each individual egg pressing against the walls of your tummy.
“yes.”
finally, he stilled, his body shaking with the last spasms of release. he remained inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and hot against your sweaty skin. then, with a small whine, he pulled out: first the bottom cock, then the top one, releasing the lock on your pussy. you felt a gush of warm cream follow him, and when you looked down, you saw the mess he had made of you.
your pussy was ruined, swollen, hole gaping as thick, white cum started to drool out in hefty treads, pooling on the sheets beneath you.
he moved down your body, his hands sliding over your blooming skin until they rested on your swollen belly. he pressed gently, and you felt the first egg pop out with an obscene sound. the smooth, pearly ovoid rolled out onto the sheet, shining with your combined juices. then another, and another, each one escaping as he pressed firmer, each one making you whine from overstimulation.
your tummy slowly deflated, but not all the eggs were out yet — you could still feel a few resting high inside, near your cervix.
“shh, i’ve got you.” he said, his voice suddenly soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the brutality from moments ago. he shifted his hand from your belly to your swollen clit, his fingers gliding through the wetness with good intent.
“you’re doing so well, baby. let me help the rest out.”
he began to rub circles around your hyper-sensitive bud, while his other hand pressed firmly on the top part of your pelvis. the overstimulation made you sob out, but his sweet expression (his soft, purple orbs, the blush on his face, the cute smile on his lips) kept you grounded.
“that’s it, sweet girl, let them out. you’re so brave for taking all of that. now just one more– yes, there it is.”
with a particularly deep press of his palm and a swirl of his thumb, the last egg got out with a sultry plop, rolling to join its siblings on the sheet. your body shuddered violently, another spasm of climax racing through you, but he never stopped the gentle ministrations of his hand.
he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your belly, his lips tracing your skin as you orgasm again into his palm.
“such a good girl.” he whispered against your skin, his tone full of adoration and gratitude. “you took everything so perfectly, my partner.” he lifted his head to look into your hazy eyes, and there was nothing but contentment in his gaze. “let’s rest for a bit.”
at last, he removed himself from between your legs, allowing you a moment of respite as he lounged next to you on the bed. cradling your spent form into a delicate side embrace, he guided your head onto his chest, petting your wet hair away from your face.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @hearts2vivi, @glitterykingdomangel, @gardenialily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @thealunari, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @thealunari, @maplewood-valley, @massivebanananut, @livanavier, @rafayearning4eternity. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
synopsis. spending ebb day together as friends... will you still be friends afterwards?
pairing. rafayel qi x lemurian! non-mc! reader
content/mdni. A TON OF FUCKING. fem!reader, lemurian!reader, non-mc!reader, friends!au, friends-with-benefits!au, more level-headed!reader, dom-then-sub!reader, sub-then-dom!rafayel, needy!rafayel and reader, mean!rafayel, mean!reader, possessive!rafayel, slight dumbification, mention of masturbating (m solo), begging (m and f receiving), cunnilingus with MONSTER TONGUE, cow girl sex, doggy style sex, missionary sex, one cock sex, two cock sex, DOUBLE PENETRATION, OVIPOSITION, MONSTER FUCKING MONSTER, TON OF CUM, CUM PLAY, hair pulling, spanking, protected sex, raw sex, multiple rounds, allusions to anal sex, overstimulation, tummy bulge, teasing, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, partner/mate, good/sweet girl, whore, slut, cockslut, all the good stuff lmaoo), kissing!! SCENT KINK, HAND KINK, TON OF SWEAT, TW: BLOOD, marking, mentions of breeding, mentions of mating.
word count. 8.5k
a/n. prepare your panties! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
the first time it happened, it was an accident.
just two people hanging out, forgetting the current date. just two people, so absorbed by their newly founded human existence that they sidetracked their origins.
just two lemurians, friends since childhood, who, because of circumstances, were pulled together by raw desire to spend the changing of the currents as one.
the first time it happened, it was an accident. the other instances, however, were deliberate.
•••
you were standing in the fluorescent-lit purgatory of the 24/7 convenience store, a basket hanging from your elbow with an xl pack of condoms already inside.
“what else, what else…”
the air conditioning was too cold, raising goosebumps on your arms, brushing over the sprinkle of scales already adorning your skin. the cool air was combatting the warmth from the outside, but there was a deeper heat slowly coiling low in your belly, pulsing harder and harder, overtaking your very being quietly — a heat that couldn’t be tamed by the artificiality of the cooling device.
you’ve been feeling it for hours. the telltale thrum, the hypersensitivity of your skin, the way your gums ache faintly where your fangs wanted to push through.
ebb day is tomorrow. officially.
you still have a few hours to prepare.
your phone unexpectedly buzzed against your skin, a frantic, continuous tremor that has you fumbling for it. rafayel’s name light up the screen, a silly picture of him trembling together with the vibrations.
you swiped to answer, a teasing remark already on your lips.
“if you’re calling to back out–”
“please.” his voice cut you off, and it sounded wrong. it was not the smooth, sultry baritone he usually wielded like a weapon, articulating witty remarks at your expense. it was breathless, strained, cracking at the edges. “please, come over.”
you froze between aisles, your hand tightening on the phone. “rafayel?”
“i need you.” a low, fractured whine escaped him, and the needy sound went straight to your core, igniting the latent heat into a sudden, roaring blaze. “it’s… it’s early. it’s so early. i thought i had more time but it’s… i need you now.”
you could picture him too clearly.
at his seaside manor, in the vast, luxurious bedroom, with the curtains wide open, welcoming the full moon. rafayel, welcoming you, sprawled on his massive bed, his pale skin flushed and beaded with sweat, his hair a disheveled mess of purple.
you imagined him grasping his phone with a trembling hand, spotted with scales, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted in gasps.
fangs peeking through oh so beautifully.
“i’m at the store.” you said, your voice coming out rougher than you intended, your own state suddenly worsening due to rafayel’s intervention. “i’m getting the things. i’ll be there after checkout–”
“no.” he gasped immediately, and the desperation in his voice was loud, a hook that sunk into your chest and pulled you like a fish out of waters. “too long. ugh– i can’t– please. i can’t wait anymore. i feel like i’m burning up. we have everything here, so...”
“i need you. please, please, just ahhhh– come here.”
the plea was a whisper, broken and sweet, and that did it for you. you’ve always been weak for him. in this human form, in your true one, it didn’t matter; he had you wrapped around his pinky finger since you were children, even if he didn’t always know it.
“raf…”
you wanted to say something stubborn, to remind him that you were buying the very supplies he’ll be grateful for later, but another whimper came through the line, and your resolve crumbled to the ground.
“fine.” you heard yourself say, already turning and abandoning your basket on a shelf, condoms and all. “i’m coming right now. stay on the line.”
he let out a soft, relieved sound, and you could’ve sworn a sloshing noise accompanied his tune. “okay. f–fuck– okay.”
you left the store at a near-jog, the warm night air hitting your flushed cheeks.
the moon was almost up, a perfect, luminous circle in the sky, yet too bright, too full. it made your blood sing, your skin prickling with more and more clusters of scales.
you could still hear rafayel’s breathing on the other end of the line, quick and uneven, punctuated by tiny, swallowed sounds that he’s probably trying to hide.
that, and low, wet sounds — most likely his hand moving lazily up and down his stiff cock.
“tell me how you’re feeling.” you said as you slid into your car, your hand steady on the wheel even as everything inside you was starting to shake.
you have to keep your composure for just a little longer.
you also have to keep rafayel in check and make sure he doesn’t tip over.
“hot.” he breathed into the phone. “everything’s s–shit– too hot. my clothes… i took them off already. i’m just in the sheets. i nghnn– keep thinking about your hands.” his voice dropped, becoming that familiar, teasing cadence even through the haze of the heat.
“you have such nice hands. so soft– ngh– i keep thinking about them on ahh– me. groping me, pinning me down. do you think you can do that?”
your fingers tightened on the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening at his request. “rafayel.”
“i want you to.” he continued, his voice a low, needy murmur. the sticky sounds raised in intensity, no longer just background noise. “i need you so bad. i need you on top of me, baby.”
you pushed the accelerator harder, running a stop sign you didn’t even register. the streets blurred under your hazy vision, the city lights smearing into streaks of color. the heat inside you was building up with every word of his, with every little gasp and hitch of his breath.
rafayel was doing a phenomenal job at riling you up.
“what are you thinking about?” he asked all of a sudden, his voice a silken thread that woke you up. “are you thinking about me?”
“yes.” you admitted bluntly, the word torn from you without much effort.
“nhgh… t–tell me, baby.”
“the way you look when you’re between my thighs.” your voice was steady, booming from the speakers of his phone, but your hands were shuddering now. fingernails threatening to elongate into monstrously sharp claws. “the way you eat me out so good.”
he groaned, a breathless, shattered sound, and his hand sped up. the wetness staining his cock was palpable, the sound harsh yet delicate. “f–fuck yeah, i wanna taste your cunt so bad.”
a pause, then his voice murmured a confession once more. “i need to bury my face in you. i need to smell you. ahhhh– bet you’re drenched already, can almost s–sniff it from here.”
he was right. since the beginning of your conversation, the flimsy material of your panties was nothing but sticky. each and every request of his, delving into his nastiest wishes, generated more gooey arousal, effectively coating your panties in a generous amount of slick.
it also did not help that you were a lemurian, normally producing more slick than a mere human.
thankfully, you were pulling through the gates of his estate, the tires of your car crunching on the gravel driveway. you didn’t even bother parking properly — just killed the engine and eft the car where it stopped.
“i’m here.” you said into the phone, your legs carrying you up the front steps without waiting for another invite.
you swung the door open without a second thought.
rafayel was standing at the end of the hallway, and the sight of him made your clit throb.
he was fully naked, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his hair plastered to his temples. his chest was heaving, his pupils so dilated that his irises were reduced to thin rings of purple. but it was the scales that caught your attention — a scattering of iridescent, pearl-white scales along his cheekbones, down his neck, across his shoulders.
painting his skin, lower and lower.
going beyond the base of his aching cock.
the scales shimmered in the moonlight, catching the light like tiny mirrors.
“baby!” his eyes found yours, and he smiled — a beautiful, unhinged grin, all sharp teeth and raw need. “you came.” he breathed, relieved, taking wobbly steps towards you.
he was deeply affected by the rising full moon, hands jumping away from his sides and searching for support onto the walls.
you were soon to be deeply affected as well as your nostrils inhaled the pheromones dominating the entire mansion: the smell was terrifically strong, a pungent odor that lulled you towards primal desires. you almost stumbled backward from the powerful aroma, palm shooting up and covering the bottom half of your face in an attempt to protect your senses.
“f–fuck, the smell…”
you needed to remain levelheaded.
you needed to remain the rational one, since rafayel was clearly indulging fully in the effects of the moon.
but it was hard. you could already feel your fans poking through your gums, could already sense the tremble in your body as rafayel caught up to you.
your entire being was calling for him, just like his own called for you.
his quivering hands clawed at your dress, pulling you fully inside, the door slamming shut behind you two and effectively trapping you in his den. taking advantage of the defensive stance you took, he manhandled you against the closest wall, caging you perfectly, his body a line of burning heat against yours.
“ah, ah, ah, you…” his face instantly found your neck, burying itself in the seductive dip between your throat and shoulder. and, with a loud whiff, rafayel inhaled your own tumbling pheromones. “ahhh– smell so fucking good.”
he did not stop at that, nuzzling further into your skin, dragging the tip of his nose up towards your pulse point, punctuating the spot right behind your ear. with that, he managed to caress a patch of sensitive scales, eliciting a moan out of your hidden lips, forcing your palm to abandon its post to tangle in his messy locks.
“baby, please, pull ugh– my hair, please.” he started to beg as he felt your fingers latch onto the roots of his hair, body curving into yours more and more.
his legs snuck their way between your own, parting your thighs and allowing his knee to dip into the material of your dress and make contact with your clothed pussy. his arms flew away too, finally taking hold of your torso and putting you into a needy embrace.
“raf, i–”
your voice echoed in his ears, blessing him with the delicious shudder of your tone. but something was wrong, he slowly realized between his hazy thoughts — you have yet to make your move, you have yet to show the same neediness he has been carrying for hours.
“i–is something wrong? no, please, baby…”
he removed his face from your neck, abandoning his mission to devour your scent gland in favor of discovering what was holding you back. a strong feeling of anxiety shook his entire body, and memories of abandonment flashed between his obscene fantasies.
changing the atmosphere entirely.
“go on, raf, it’s okay–”
“n–no.”
you couldn’t resist him, especially not now.
he decided to perch his head on your chest, entire body slouched over your own, and look up at you with his lust-filled orbits. the pout on his lips was dangerous, accessorized by his long and sharp fangs. his legs were now practically glued to yours… and you could feel his heavy cock pressing against your thigh.
“do you not want me, baby?”
oh, he was gonna be the death of you.
“raf, someone h–ngh–as to be rational, i can’t give into pleas–”
“we will be careful, like always…” he cut you off enthusiastically, tightening his hold on your midriff to block any kind of escape. worse, he dipped his face lower into your chest, pressing right against your exposed sternum… and sticking his tongue out to taste your sweaty skin.
“rafayel.” you warned through gritted teeth, gripping the base of his scalp and pulling his head back. but he was ready for such an action, simply letting out more length of his monstrous tongue and continuing his perverse ministration across the peaks of your breasts.
“i k–know what will help!” he chirped between licks, and the sensation of his rough, elongated tongue tracing the delicate flesh of your chest made your resolve shake.
you tried to hold firm, to remember the reasons why someone needed to stay level-headed, but he was a master of persuasion: his hands, which had been so needy and clammy, slid down your hips with a slow, teasing pace. and he stopped when he reached the fabric of your short skirt, fingers twitching at the hem.
“just a taste.” he whispered, long tongue retracting from your skin to wet his lips. “i ugh– to taste your pussy, baby. please.”
his voice was a raspy, desperate plea, and the sight of his body — the way he pressed himself against you, precum wetting the ends of your dress — broke something in you. you were supposed to be the rational one, but the pheromones were a thick haze in your lungs, intoxicating your very being.
your own body betrayed you, the ache between your thighs becoming a pulsing, insistent throb. your firm grip on his hair lessened, hand guiding his head unconsciously down your body, moving him in line with your center.
“ah– j–just a bit...” you breathed, your voice shaking now. “but then we m–”
move to the bedroom — he didn’t let you finish.
a submissive, relieved groan escaped him, and he was already sliding down your body. his bare knees hit the floor with a sharp thud, but he didn’t flinch. you tried to steady yourself, but rafayel had other plans — hiking your right leg up his shoulder, spreading you wide open for him. and you were taken by surprise, fingers curling and pushing his head around from the sudden movement.
“f–fuck yeah.”
he let out a sharp, encouraging moan against your exposed thigh, and you felt his lips press a wet kiss on the newly exposed patch of skin of your knee.
his hands shoot up, scattering the hem of your dress. he pushed the material up around your waist, silently prompting you to hold it down and away from him. the cool air of the hallway licked at your exposed thighs, prickling at your scale-scattered skin.
his gaze dropped, and he stared at the sight before him, cock twitching between his bent legs. the wet spot on your panties was dark and obscene, the cotton perfectly clinging to the shape of your pussy. you were absolutely soaked through, arousal escaping the comfort of your underwear in order to stain your inner thighs.
the rims around his blown-out pupils turned a bright blue, and a devouring hunger flashed across his features.
“oh, my baby.” he breathed, the words almost a whimper. “you’re s–so wet for me. i bet it h–hurts so much.”
he didn’t wait for an actual answer as he leaned forward to thoroughly inspect you. his nose pressed into the damp fabric, and he inhaled deeply, a tremble running through his body as he feasted on your scent. he nuzzled against the soaked cotton, his sharp fangs grazing your sensitive flesh through the thin barrier, and your knees nearly buckled.
your hand forced his head deeper instead of pulling it away, a silent surrender to the powers of the moon.
he took the signal with a groan of satisfaction. his tongue snaked out, long and monstrous, and he dragged the wide, flat of it across the dark spot. he licked slowly, savoring you through the fabric, his eyes rolling back from the aroma.
“you ahh– s’ good.” he mumbled against the fabric, his voice muffled by the fabric and his groans.
but he needed more than just soaked panties. so, with a swipe of his tongue, he wrapped the length twice around the gusset of your panties, tugging the material downwards. you felt the wet cotton drag along your sensitive flesh as it was removed, exposing your cunt entirely to his burning gaze.
“r–raf, please.”
he saw everything: your wet, swollen flesh glistened in the dim light, your clit engorged and peeking out from its hood. a fresh glob of your arousal slid down your inner thigh, and his adam’s apple bobbed at the bodily reaction.
“babyyy…” his breathing hitched, and he slowed down, his entire being focused on the sight and scent of you. “look at you.” he muttered, his voice heavy by lust. “so beautiful, so mesmerizing.”
and before you could form a response, he dived in. his lips glued onto you, and his tongue — still a long, monstruous muscle — latched onto your entire cunt. he licked a wide, flat stroke from your oozing entrance to your pulsing clit, and the feeling of his wet mouth against your slick flesh made you whine.
he did it again, and again, building a rhythm that was ruining you from the inside out. he was starved, licking and sucking and slurping you like an intoxicated man who knew no other flavour.
“rafayel, r–fa–yel!”
you threw your head back, the wall cold against your skull, as you fought for composure. but it was a losing battle: his mouth was too skilled, too curious to discover your pussy. he found every sensitive nerve with the tip of his tongue, swirling around your clit until you were seeing stars, then dropping down to probe at your entrance.
licking up the streams of your juices like they were the only source of water in the world.
you made the mistake of looking down at him. he was on his knees before you, his body trembling with the effort of restraint and desire. his eyes were heavy-lidded, focused solely on his task, and his gills —delicate, slit-like openings on his neck — fluttered slightly as he breathed through them, allowing him to remain glued to you without a pause for air.
he was relentless, dedicated.
he needed you to tip over into your animalistic side.
“i– oh, fuck–”
your voice cracked and morphed into a high, unhinged moan as he circled his tongue around your clit, wrapping it tightly with its length while he sucked the bundle of nerves with his lips. the tip of his tongue dipped lower treacherously, pushing against your greedy hole and effectively overflowing your mushy brain with pleasure.
your hips jerked forward of their own accord, and you felt your fingers drag through his hair, pulling him even tighter against you, demanding more even as you were overwhelmed.
“hmhmm– ngh–” he moaned into you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pelvis.
his hands slid up your thighs, thumbs spreading your lips wider, giving him unrestricted access to every inch of your center. he worked on you with a desperate, submissive fervor, eating you out as if his existence depended on your pleasure.
and it was working. the feeling built and built in your tummy, a coil of heat tightened and tightened with every flick of his tongue.
“al’st.” he gasped, pulling away just enough to see the defeat in your eyes. his lips and chin were shining with your wetness, his sharp teeth shimmering as he smiled at you. “cum in my mouth, please.”
your resolve had shattered the moment his mouth had made contact. so you just nodded frantically, a sobbing whine escaping your lips, and he leaped at the signal. his mouth descended again with renewed vigor, long tongue focusing on your engorged bud. he sucked hard, creating a devastating pressure, while he simultaneously probed the back of his tongue against your entrance, massaging the contracting muscles.
“ah, i’m–”
you came with a cry that echoed down the empty hallway, your body arching off the wall as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through you. your hand forced his face deeper into you, and he drank everything, his moans of ecstasy vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he swallowed your release.
and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, easing you through the shaking aftermath, his eyes locked on your trembling form with a satisfied, devouring gleam.
“ah, a–ah, ah.”
when you finally opened your eyes, you had a good look at his needy, disheveled face, still resting between your thighs. his lips and chin were slick with you, his long tongue still lazily licking at your flesh as if he couldn’t bear to lose the taste. his gills fluttered rapidly, and he smiled up at you — temporary satiated by your pussy.
… or so you thought.
“g–go again?” he pleaded, his voice high-pitched and weak. “please, please, please, ple–”
and you knew why he was begging so arduously: gazing downwards at the floor, you soon realized that he also spilled his release, most likely pushed over the edge by your own orgasm. the floorboards were covered in a thick layer of cum, white and sticky substance staining his thigh and your own resting foot.
“please, baby, one more time– i love your pussy, i–”
you were still trembling from your own climax, chest heaving, gills fluttering on the sides of your neck. but something in his desperate, submissive tone made you sit up straighter, an ounce of rationality still guiding you. yeah, you felt the wetness between your thighs, the echo of his tongue still a pulsing memory, but you knew that you were far from satiated.
the moon’s pull was still in your bones, and his pheromones were a thick haze in the air.
you reached down, took a handful of his wet hair, and pulled his face away from your cunt. the slick was thick, mixed with his saliva, and it created a strong, sticky bridge between his lips and your nether ones.
“m–move…” you commanded, your voice coming out fragmented, tainted by your orgasm and the heat. “bedroom, now.”
his eyes flashed with relief, and he nodded so quickly that his locks flipped against his temples. “yes– yes, baby, anything.” with obedient, trembling hands, he pushed himself up from his knees, his muscular thighs quivering as he rose. he was still weeping, his cock stiff and red, the tip glistening with his own release.
but he made no move to wipe it away, fixated on obtaining you.
before you could step forward, he enveloped you in his arms, both hands sliding under your knees and lifting you as if you were made of feathers. your legs latched around his hips on instinct, your dress riding up to your waist, your naked slick pussy pressing against his abs. he took off with long, hurried steps, his legs no longer staggering.
“c’mere.”
his mouth was on yours before you could process his words.
“so ngh– good t’ me.” he mumbled against your lips, his tongue sharing your aroma. “so beautiful, so perfect– i’m ugh– not deserving.” he kissed you with a wide, open mouth, his sharp fangs grazing your lower lip as he pushed your dress higher with each push.
his words were a stream of subservient praises — celebrating your benevolence in assisting him with his heat — as he carried you through the living room and into the wide, disheveled bedroom. and his mouth never stopped; he fully slurped at your lips, devouring your mouth with the same fervor he ate your pussy.
he loved to caress your fangs with his tongue, grunting between lick as you were finally showing signs of turning.
“ah, ah…”
when he reached the giant bed, he turned and sat down on it, his back leaning against the headboard with a soft thud. he kept you on his lap, your knees straddling his hips, your soaked cunt hovering just above his twitching, dripping cock. his hands were instantly on your body tugging away at the dress, removing it from your body and letting your scale-splotched skin to bask in the full moon.
his sharp digits took a hold of your full hips, nails digging into the soft flesh as he tried to lower your body onto his.
“please, baby.” he breathed, his hips rolling upwards on instinct, his bare cock sliding against your wet slit. “i need to feel you around me– please, i fuck–”
you reached around, your hand finding the nightstand and its drawer, your fingers closing around a square packet. as you were retrieving it, his hands worked all over you, groping your waist, your tits, your thighs with a restless, ravenous need. his cock was jumping against your thigh with each squish of your body, impatient to ease into you.
“let m–me help.” he whispered as he saw you struggle. but you shook your head, at last ripping the packet open with your fangs.
the image made him groan — he loved when you used those fangs.
he wished you’d use them on him.
as you rolled the condom down his length with steady hand, your palm gliding over the latex as you smoothed it down the veiny cock, he gasped, his head throwing back against the headboard, his hips pushing up into your fist.
“fuck– baby, your hand, it’s ngh– so good, i’m gonna–” his words devolved into a strangled moan as you gave him a last, twisting stroke at the base, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from cumming right then.
his gills fluttered rapidly, and his hands clawed at the sheets, his white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping him grounded.
you left him hanging on the edge for a sweet moment, your eyes locked on his trembling stomach and the way his scales shimmered harder. then, with a slow movement, you raised yourself up on your knees, aligned the tip of his cock with your soaked entrance, and slowly began to sink down.
the sensation was electric. his length slid inside you in a smooth, velvety thrust, the latex making it easy but no less intense. you felt him stretch you, push past your greedy muscles that spasmed around him, and you gasped at the fullness. he moaned your name, vibrating against your chest as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder.
“so fucking tight– so wet–.”
“ah, raf, that’s mhm–”
you took a moment to adjust, to feel him settle deep inside you, to take in the way his tip was kissing your cervix. then you began to move — slow rolls of your hips, lifting and sinking, pulling him out until only the tip remained, then sliding back down to the hilt. your clit slapped deliciously against his muscles, and so did his heavy balls against your behind.
his hands flew to your hips again, guiding you, but he never tried to take control; he merely held you, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of your hips with reverence.
“yes, that’s ngh– it, use me.” he implored, his voice breaking into high whinse as you picked up the pace. you rolled your hips in a figure eight, harshly grinding against him at the bottom, and his lips parted on a silent scream. “oh, oh fuck, right there, please, baby–”
you leaned forward, lips bitten, your palms braced against his chest, and you rode him with a ferocious need. every stroke was accompanied by his gasps, the sharp, slutty breaths strung together with your own traitorous ones into a rhythmic chant.
“so good, so good, i’m– please, please, let me cum inside, i beg you–”
his words were slurred, mind so thick with lust he forgot he had a condom on. but he was attentive to you, never taking his eyes off your bouncing body. when you sped up, your thighs burning with the effort, your clit brushing against his pubic bone with every downward thrust, his head lolled to the side in pleasure.
the sensation was heaven for you too: the way his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, vein pulsing just the right way against your walls, the way his hands trembled as they held you, the way his moans sounded like prayers…
“cum for me.” you allowed, your voice raspy and commanding, and that was all he needed.
with a broken whine, he threw his head back, his spine arching off the headboard as he spilled into the condom, his hips jerking up into you with ragged, uncontrollable spasms. his mouth opened in a silent shout and his hands clawed so hard into your hips you knew they would leave bruises.
the sight of him cumming, his face stretched in ecstasy, pushed you over the edge. you rode him through it all, your second climax building and building until it broke. your inner muscles clenching around him as you shuddered through your release.
he whimpered into the air like a mantra: “thank you, thank you, thank you–”.
after a few more seconds, you finally slowed down. with your gills working overtime, your body washed in sparkling sweat, you remained motionless, straddled over him. his aching cock was still inside you, spent once more that night.
but ebb day had just commenced, and a mere fuck was not the solution.
you were still trembling, his overstimulated cock still twitching inside you, when he shifted his hips upwards — a lazy, circular rock which sent a sharp spark through your oversensitive flesh. you whimpered, a needy tune that you hadn’t intended to let out; the sudden trust took you by surprise, hitting your walls in a way that made your whole being shiver.
he did it again, this time with a sharper thrust, his strong hands pushing you down into his cock, and your palms flattened against his chest in a vain attempt to put some distance between the two of you.
“raf– wait, slow d–ah–own a bit.” you gasped, your voice cracking, the overstimulation short circuiting your brain. “i need a second–”
his laugh was low and mean, a strong contrast to the high-pitched moans he freely let out a few minutes ago.
“slow down? why? you’re still aching for more.” his hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs with a brutal firmness. his expression was no longer kind and pliant, the barely-there purple of his orbs changing into a blinding sapphire color.
he tutted at your scrunching face, digging his fingers harder into your skin and dragging you forth against his chest. “no, no, baby. i don’t like that.”
“raf?”
“you’re not gonna fight what you are. you’re a lemurian in heat, just like me… giving in is not a choice.”
before you could respond, he twisted out of you with a squelching, wet pop and shoved you forward onto the sheets. you tumbled onto the mattress, hands and knees catching you as he positioned you around like a puppet. his palm pressed the small of your back, forcing your spine into a beautiful arch, your face pressed into the pillows.
it happened in a blink of an eye, your body going pliant and obeying the desires of the man behind you. you could no longer see him, with your head buried in his cushions, but you could hear the shift of his weight as he knelt behind you, the heat of his body washing over your exposed skin.
shit, he was taking a dominant stance now — the predator inside him most likely no longer pleased by your ‘controlled’ approach to ebb day.
but you had to stay strong. you had to stop him from fulfilling the mating ritual since you were not his beloved. you had to–
“look at you.” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension, blue eyes taking in the sight before him: you, face down, ass up, supple flesh drenched and quivering with arousal. “so fucking wet… and you still have the nerve to tell me to slow down. pathetic.”
his fingers traced down your curved spine, pausing at the swell of your ass. then down to your used hole. with delicate fingers, he touched the gaping rim of the condom still lodged inside you, dragging it slightly out of you. you flinched, back arching even more, hips pushing into his touch unconsciously.
“a condom too… ruining all the fun.” he clicked his tongue, low and mean, but chose to abandon the rubber for now. he decided to reach around to find your clit, his skilled thumb pressing against it with just enough pressure to make you tremble into the sheets.
“you think you’re in charge, hm? you’re nothing but a slutty little whore who needs to be reminded of her place.”
he circled his thumb over your swollen bud, slow and torturous, while his other hand kept you pinned down. you whined, your hips pushing back instinctively, seeking more friction, but he was having none of it: he smacked your ass hard, the sharp slap echoing in the room as it landed on your flesh.
“don’t you dare act on your urges now. you’ll get what i give you, when i give it.” he warned as he increased the pressure on your clit, his movements forming teasing figure eights. you writhed against the sheets, tried to push back and speed him up, but his hand on your spine kept you arched and immobile.
“p–please.” you whined, your voice pitching high, now mirroring the state he was previously in— flushed face, dilated pupils, consumed by the urge to be used. “raf, i need–”
“you need to shut up and take what’s given.” he cut you off, his tone cold and superior. he removed his thumb without warning, and you whimpered in loss, eyes bubbling with tears from his cruelness. “see? that’s what you get for being impatient. now be a good girl and wait.”
wait?
for what?
he reached down, fingers curling around the rim of the condom still inside you. with a slow, torturous pull, he removed it. the sensation of the latex sliding out making you shiver, hole gaping in dissatisfaction. your cunt was practically begging for the rubber to return, for something to be inside it once more.
“greedy pussy.”
he pinched the tip of the condom, dangling it above your stinging flesh, and, with his thumb and index finger, he pressed and dragged out... letting the thick, white semen spill all across your ass. throwing the empty rubber away, he then smeared his cum over your cheeks with a rough, possessive stroke, making sure to dip his fingers over your asshole and the perineum.
the warm, sticky sensation made you cry out, and he laughed again.
“you like that, don’t you? being marked with my cum?” he rubbed the cum lower, into your slit, working it into your wet folds until you were dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his seed. “you were so dumb for putting on the condom.”
and with that vitriolic remark, he positioned himself behind you once more, the mushroom head of his engorged cock prodding at your slutty entrance. he rubbed it up and down, teasing the flesh without pushing in, controlling his urge to breed you for the sake of hearing you beg.
and you began to sob, pleas leaving your bitten lips with ease.
“p–please, raf, just fuck me, i need it so bad, please–”
“aww, look at you now — beg harder.” he purred, his tip still tracing slow circles over your hungry hole.
“please! please, rafayel, i beg you, just put it in, i’ll be good, just fuck me–”
“there it is.” he smirked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “but oh, i’m sorry, baby– i think we’re out of condoms. what a shame.” his tone was condescending, and he rolled his hips just enough to press the head inside.
before pulling back. “i can’t–”
“i don’t care.” you babbled, your mind now a blur of heat and hunger. your previous carefulness was entirely wiped by your animalistic desire to be mounted and taken by rafayel. “j–just do it, fuck me raw! i need your ugh– cock inside me, please, raf–”
“finally.”
without other comments, he thrusted in one sharp, brutal motion. you screamed, but not in pain — the overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled without any barrier felt heavenly. his hard cock, littered with scales, plowed into your soaked cunt until his hips smacked against your ass, his balls swaying against your swollen clit.
“yes.” he groaned, his voice now raspy with his own need. “this is where you belong: spread open for me, taking my cock like the cockslut that you are.” he pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, the squelch of your juices and his cum making a loud, obscene sound.
“fuck, you’re so warm, so wet, so fucking good.”
he set a ferocious pace, his hips jutting into you with the starved intensity of an animal in rut. each thrust hit that spot inside you, making your spine curve into him more and more. and you were kept in that deep arch by his strong arms, your voice reduced to a stream of moans and whines as it got drowned out by the pillows.
“ngh– baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” he grunted, his hand snaking forward to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back. “greedy girl, sucking me ah– so hard.”
“tell me you’re mine. tell me this is what you wanted.”
“‘m y’rs.” you gasped, the words tumbling out in stutters as you squeezed around his rugged scales. “gods, yes, fuck me harder, please–”
he released your hair with a satisfied moan and doubled his efforts, his strokes becoming messy and unhinged. he was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock throbbing against your walls, the tip kissing your cervix with every slam. his length seemed to grow inside you, expanding and stretching your sensitive walls in all dimensions.
you were completely affected by ebb day now, your pleasure so strong you could no longer separate where your being ended and his began.
but the night has just begun, and so did rafayel.
you felt it before you saw it: a second pressure, a new sensation against the flesh of your ass. another cock, thicker and more brutal in its proportions, had emerged from the base of his first and sprung upwards, settling directly between the sweaty valley of your cheeks.
it was a monstrous thing, wet with its own pre-cum, rocking against your asshole in tune with his other cock.
“is that– ugh–”
with every slam of his hips into your soaked cunt, this second cock rubbed relentlessly against your tight, untouched asshole. the friction was addicting, a blunt force that glided over the twitching rim of your second hole with every forward push.
you could feel the ridges of it, the scales that dragged across your delicate skin, and it made your eyes roll back from the pleasure.
“you feel that, baby?” he grunted into your ear, his voice a condescending purr. “my other cock, itching to breed that pussy too. you’re so fucking soaked, i am sure it will ngh– slip right in.”
you couldn’t respond. you were beyond speech, your face buried in the sheets, your voice reduced to a high, siren-like whine that filled the room.
the way his second cock humped against your asshole, the way his first cock was still plunging into your cunt — it was a sensory overload that threatened to spill all over. you clenched around him, trying to drag him deeper, and he groaned, leaning over your arched body.
“can’t even fuckin’ answer me.” he snarled, his pace slowing for a moment as he leaned down, lowering his sweaty chest against your back.
his sharp mouth found the juncture of your neck and shoulder, your pulse point, and he opened his jaw wide. his fangs grazed your flesh, a heated, demanding pressure falling over your skin.
he was…
“you want this so badly, don’t you? you want me to claim every hole.”
going to bite. he was going to mark you as his mate.
panic lashed through the fog of your lust. you were not lovers: you had agreed to this arrangement solely to protect his future beloved from the primality of the lemurian heat. so your arm shot up before you could think it over, your forearm wedging itself between his lips and your neck just as his jaws clamped down.
“ah.”
his fangs sink into your flesh with a wet, ripping sound. the pain was sharp and immediate, a burning sensation that made you scream into the pillows. you felt the hot trickle of blood cascade down your arm, and he let out a surprised, muffled groan around your limb.
his cock slid out of you during the chaos, leaving you suddenly empty and weak.
“n–no!” you cried, your voice a shaky mess of pleasure and desperation. “not that! rafayel, we aren’t– we’re not lovers! you can’t mark me like this. you have to save yourself for your chosen one, you know that.”
he froze — he stayed still, his fangs still embedded in your forearm, his breath hot against the wound. then, slowly, he released you. his jaw unclamped, and he licked the blood from his lips with a slow, seductive swipe of his tongue. but his eyes had changed. the lust was still there, but now it was underlaid with something far more dangerous: a cold, rageful possessiveness.
“you dare...” he said, his voice dropping to a level of condescending fury that made you shiver. “you dare tell me who to save myself for? you dare speak of a ‘chosen one’ when you’re the only one who has ever made me feel this?”
before you could respond, he moved with unnatural speed. his hands gripped your hips and with a brutal twist, he flipped you over like you were no more than a rag doll. you landed on your back, the sheets cold and damp against your sweaty skin. he was on top of you in an instant, his legs knocking yours apart as he settled his weight between your thighs.
his first cock pressed against your soaked entrance, and his second one rested heavily against your clit, both of them drenched in bodily fluids.
“you foolish woman.” he snarled, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. his eyes were gleaming blue, his scales catching the light like the facets of a gem. “there is no other chosen one. there is only you. you’re the one i want. you’re the one my body and my soul demands.”
“r–raf?”
“and i will not be denied.”
he thrusted forward, sheathing his bottom cock inside you in one single, devastating move. you were so wet, so inviting; there was no resistance, only a lewd, obscene squelch as your fluids started to froth at the juncture between your bodies.
you whined out a broken approval, and he groaned in triumph above you.
“that’s right.” he confirmed, rolling his hips harder and harder to pick up his previous pace. “your body knows the truth, even if your mouth lies. you’re mine.” he began to pump into you, his strokes sharp and possessive as he, once more, descended closer to your face.
“you can beg all you want for a different fate, but you will never escape this. you will never escape me.”
and with that, he sealed his lips over yours.
your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded you into the mattress. your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper, traitorously consenting to his declaration even as your mind spun with lust. he leaned forward more and more, trapping you under his massive frame, and he kissed you brutally, tangling his long tongue with your and forcing you to taste your own blood.
“say it out loud.” he demanded against your mouth, his pace never faltering, his mouth carefully traversing lower to your pulse point again. “say you’re mine. say it and i will fully take you, my mate.”
“i’m yours!” you wailed, the words torn from your very soul as his fangs scratched your skin in warning. “i’m yours, rafayel! please, just don’t stop, don’t you dare stop–”
a prideful, predatory grin spread across his features. he slowed his pace as his jaw opened once more, trying to time his movements to offer you the most intense pleasure. pulling out almost all the way, his tip snagging onto your hole, he stuck out his tongue to wet your skin as his hand lowered to his cocks… pressing his second length snug to his other and preparing it for penetration.
“ngh– raf– ah–”
as he plunged his fangs into your neck, finally marking you as his mate by drawing blood, he also rutted both cocks into your hungry cunt. the immense quantities of arousal lubed everything, allowing his two dicks to press deep into your without much difficulty.
and his timing was perfect, getting you to orgasm with a perfect o on your lips as he rocked your whole world.
“that’s right.” he purred, moving his head to nuzzle at the bloody bite on your skin, licking the wound with soft strokes of his tongue. “you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”
and as he spoke, he picked up his pace once more, the slap of his balls against your skin filling the room, his resolve renewed. you were cushioned beneath him, a trembling mess, a willing partner to desire, and as he watched you fall apart beneath him — your eyes rolling back, your moans a constant chant — he too was pushed over the edge once more.
unlike last time, his thrusts stumbled into a rhythm that was clumsy but deep, as if he refusing to let go of you. unlike last time, you felt a swelling at your entrance, the way his top cock, the one that had been pressing against your clit moments ago, now grew in thickness.
the sensation was overwhelming. your walls were stretched further, and you could feel his cocks throbbing deep inside, ready to spill.
“breed.” he groaned against your neck, lips bloody, voice raspy. “let me fill you. let me breed your sweet cunt.”
and he did.
his top cock began to inflate at the base, the tissue swelling into a something that locked him deep within you. you whimpered in pleasure as the first shiny, pearl-white ovoid passed through his urethra and into your hole —a smooth, rounded glob that stretched you to the fullest before it settled inside you.
then another, and another, and another. each one leaving a trail of warmth as it popped through his cock and deposited itself in deep inside you. his hands stopped flat against your stomach, to keep you from moving away, and he felt the bulge begin to rise.
the eggs were gathering together with his thick cum.
“yes, yes.” he murmured, his tone a mix of wonder and satisfaction, eyes glassy with lust. “so many eggs already. and there’s more for you.”
he kept pumping, each thrust squeezing another round egg into you, and with it came wave upon wave of thick, pearlescent cum that filled every remaining crevice. your tummy bulged more and more, the skin stretching tight until you could feel the weight of his eggs sinking low inside you. you were so full that you couldn’t tell what was cum and what was ovoid; you only knew that he was still pumping, still depositing, still claiming.
“r–rafayel, i w–will ugh– i can’t hold– nngh!”
your protests were swallowed by another orgasm as he rutted his final drops into you, the bottom cock twitching inside you as it added its own thick semen to the swelling pool. your tummy was now a pronounced curve, the skin taut and shiny, and you could feel each individual egg pressing against the walls of your tummy.
“yes.”
finally, he stilled, his body shaking with the last spasms of release. he remained inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and hot against your sweaty skin. then, with a small whine, he pulled out: first the bottom cock, then the top one, releasing the lock on your pussy. you felt a gush of warm cream follow him, and when you looked down, you saw the mess he had made of you.
your pussy was ruined, swollen, hole gaping as thick, white cum started to drool out in hefty treads, pooling on the sheets beneath you.
he moved down your body, his hands sliding over your blooming skin until they rested on your swollen belly. he pressed gently, and you felt the first egg pop out with an obscene sound. the smooth, pearly ovoid rolled out onto the sheet, shining with your combined juices. then another, and another, each one escaping as he pressed firmer, each one making you whine from overstimulation.
your tummy slowly deflated, but not all the eggs were out yet — you could still feel a few resting high inside, near your cervix.
“shh, i’ve got you.” he said, his voice suddenly soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the brutality from moments ago. he shifted his hand from your belly to your swollen clit, his fingers gliding through the wetness with good intent.
“you’re doing so well, baby. let me help the rest out.”
he began to rub circles around your hyper-sensitive bud, while his other hand pressed firmly on the top part of your pelvis. the overstimulation made you sob out, but his sweet expression (his soft, purple orbs, the blush on his face, the cute smile on his lips) kept you grounded.
“that’s it, sweet girl, let them out. you’re so brave for taking all of that. now just one more– yes, there it is.”
with a particularly deep press of his palm and a swirl of his thumb, the last egg got out with a sultry plop, rolling to join its siblings on the sheet. your body shuddered violently, another spasm of climax racing through you, but he never stopped the gentle ministrations of his hand.
he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your belly, his lips tracing your skin as you orgasm again into his palm.
“such a good girl.” he whispered against your skin, his tone full of adoration and gratitude. “you took everything so perfectly, my partner.” he lifted his head to look into your hazy eyes, and there was nothing but contentment in his gaze. “let’s rest for a bit.”
at last, he removed himself from between your legs, allowing you a moment of respite as he lounged next to you on the bed. cradling your spent form into a delicate side embrace, he guided your head onto his chest, petting your wet hair away from your face.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @hearts2vivi, @glitterykingdomangel, @gardenialily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @thealunari, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @thealunari, @maplewood-valley, @massivebanananut, @livanavier, @rafayearning4eternity. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
The twins! There’s nerdjo 🤭and then there’s fratjo too ig, I was really excited when i saw nerdjo trending so I grabbed the opportunity to draw him hehe
a/n: this is my take on how Love from Love Game would react to Dream's intentions to free Nada. Enjoy! check out the a/n at the bottom for more details u may have missed!
wc: 1.7k
You show yourself to him slowly, the click-clack sound of your heeled shoes echoing against the almost bare throne room. You crane your head up to see Morpheus atop his throne, back straight and gaze dark. He was brooding.
The sight of you was enough to make his gaze soften. His eyes follow you until you halt just before the stairs that lead to his elevated throne. "My Love," he murmurs.
"Lucienne and Matthew sent me this way," you began, a small smile tugging on your lips as you loop up to him. "They say you have been on your throne ever since you came back from Destiny's call. Are you brooding again?"
Morpheus's eyes narrow at your accusation. "I do not brood," he insists.
You blink and glance at the window. Raindrops splatter against the window as a raging storm plagues the Dreaming. Not brooding. Right.
Morpheus follows your gaze and sighs. Miraculously, the rain stops. "I was merely thinking."
"Thinking?" You ask, stepping on the stairs, taking your time to climb one step at a time. "Perhaps you simply missed me."
"I do not miss anyone," Morpheus denies. A lie. You both know this. There have been moments where your husband has thrown fits after you needed to leave the Dreaming to fulfill your own duties. "After all, you are right here, before me," he amends.
He extends his hand to you as you approach him, and you take it. He pulls you towards him until you had no choice but to sit on his lap. Your feet dangle atop his throne’s armrest and Morpheus' arms encircle you instinctively, just like how your hands link on his nape, caging him in your arms.
Your eyes search his own and he stares back. You see nothing but darkness and the stars that twinkle in it. "Tell me what's bothering you," you whisper.
“‘Tis nothing of great importance,” he deflects. Morpheus leans in and nudges his sharp nose against yours. You feel his breath as he speaks. “I simply worry about my realm, my duties and quite occasionally, the company of certain goddesses that do nothing but distract me.”
You bite your cheek to keep a grin from forming. “Certain goddesses?” You ask and Morpheus grumbles his teasing reply with ‘mmhm.’ “Two nights ago you called me your lover so reverently.”
“Ah, yes,” he agrees, with mock anger. “Two days ago when you left me for the Waking World-”
“To do my duty!” You explain with a smile.
“You abandoned me nonetheless.” He whispers to you, and you let your head drop to the crook of his neck to stifle your giggle. You feel his hand glide across your back and rest on your nape, holding you close and dear. “I would have liked you there with me when Destiny called,” Morpheus admitted. “I would have wanted you beside me with my siblings when we met.”
You lean back, looking at Morpheus again. “Lucienne is worried about you, my Morpheus. Tell me what is wrong and I will bear it with you.”
Morpheus’ expression softens. “I have my own duties and so have you. And yet, having you by my side already lifts all such burdens.”
You sigh. You try not to show the irritation on your face. Admittedly, Lucienne had hinted at the source of Morpheus’ ire but one could never be too sure. You capture Morpheus’ eyes before you speak her name. “Nada.”
You feel your husband stiffen immediately. A shadow casts over Morpheus’ face and his gaze darkens dangerously. He regards you coldly. “Enough.”
There was a time where this is where you would tuck your tail under your legs and leave your husband be, too terrified at Dream of the Endless to stand your ground. But that was when Dream had never spared you a glance, when he was more content with the silence of his throne room than his own wife’s presence. But those days have ended.
“Your first queen,” you tell him gently, ignoring the flames of jealousy flickering within your chest. Everyone who knows Morpheus well enough knows the unfortunate fate of his first wife– condemned to a lifetime of suffering in Hell all because she rejected his affection.
“Yes,” he hisses at you, with his jaw tightly clenched. Morpheus averts his eyes from your gaze and decides to look at his empty throne room instead. The downpour of harsh rain drums at the outside walls of Morpheus’ castle.
“Are you thinking of freeing her, perhaps?” You ask, your voice small and quiet. You do not want to anger him.
A silence stretches before Morpheus’ head turns to you slowly. His eyes meet yours. “And if I was?”
You avert your eyes from him and decide to stare at your lap instead, finding the fabric of your clothes suddenly so interesting. Suddenly, your position on his lap feels too much. It feels too loving, and vulnerable for this conversation. It feels inappropriate somehow.
On one hand, condemning a lover to Hell is too cruel of a punishment. On the other…what about you? “Why now? What changed?”
“I have recently realized that I may have been too malevolent in my fury against my first wife,” Morpheus admits with a whisper. “And the guilt has been weighing on me heavily. I believe that the time to make things right has come.”
You look at your husband with hesitant eyes, almost not believing what he meant. “You mean to challenge Lucifer Morningstar for her. You mean to subject the Dreaming to war.” You shudder at the thought. “After you embarrassed her in her own realm? After-”
You miss the way Morpheus’s gaze softens at your worried tone, at the way the distress of his intentions consume you. He does not deserve you, he realizes. He reaches out to hold your cheek so gently like he was holding some precious glass. “My Love,” he whispers quietly. “It is a wrong I must correct.”
Morpheus knows that you feel the love he has for you—you are Love, after all. But he is certain that you do not know its depth. You do not know that you consume his every thought since his imprisonment; that despite all your reassurances, the guilt of having neglected you for so long still lingers in his heart; and that he is striving to become a better version of himself—to be the husband he so desperately wants to be for you.
“And if you free her, what then?” You ask him.
He meets your gaze with a confused expression. He blinks slowly. “If I succeed at my quest, then Nada shall be free and I shall rest with peace knowing I did what was right.”
You take a breath. You feel selfish and guilty for thinking of yourself when Nada has suffered a thousand years worth of torment in hell. “What about me?” You ask, your voice small and barely a whisper. “I know you love her still– as I do, with my past paramours,” you add quickly. “But where…where will I go, my lord?”
You feel Morpheus’ hand lift your head by your chin, forcing you to look at your husband’s pained stare. His eyes take in your face, trying to commit it to memory. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, before resting hands on both sides of your face. He pulls you in before he tilts up to give you a kiss on your forehead.
His thumbs rub the softness of your cheek. “My love,” he whispers, his voice low and adoring. You have forgotten where you stand with him. Morpheus must remind you who you are. “You are the Dreaming’s queen. My fated one, my own dearest Love. You must never doubt your place beside me.”
You revel in his touch before slowly shaking your head. “I do not wish to share you,” you confess.
Your words elicit a small, private smile on your husband’s face. “And you shall never have to, so long as you have me.” He understands your torment, truly, he does, but it baffles him how much Love is sometimes so oblivious to how much her own husband adores her. “I am yours,” he declares, and you feel a ripple of power emit from his words. It echoes throughout the universe, heard by every being. You gasp as he realizes what he is doing– it was a declaration. Morpheus is literally shouting to the entire world that he loves you.
You let out a small huff of laughter, giving in to his bold declaration. “Silver tongue,” you accuse, and Morpheus sneaks a kiss to your cheek. You laugh in delight.
“There is nothing– no one– that would make me part from you,” Morpheus whispers. “I would do anything if it would make you happy.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“And what shall it cost me, Dream Lord? Those in the Waking World warn against making deals with your kind for the price is too costly. Shall you demand lighting caught in a bottle? My true name?”
“None of those. Although, perhaps…” Morpheus pauses in faux contemplation. “A kiss.”
You blink and laugh. “A kiss?”
“I had hoped my wife would come and see me in my throne room to comfort me. I led her to sit on my lap for a more carnal purpose, and yet here you have sat, without even blessing me with a single kiss.” Morpehus tells you with a nod. “And I have already given you two.” He petulantly adds.
You lean towards him, too eager to comply. “My fated one,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “My lover.” A peck to his check. “My dearest.” A kiss to his other cheek. You lean back ever so slightly, looking at Morpheus’ love struck eyes. “My ever-loving husband,” you whisper, giving him a deep kiss on his lips.
“I love you,” he whispers, his expression adoring and worshipful.
You smile, pressing your hand on his chest. There you feel his love. It senses you, his wife, as you feel through it– chaotic, red, ancient, and deep. It feels like him. It feels like home. “I know.”
Morpheus shakes his head. There is a smile on his face, and the sunshine peeks from the window and shines on their Dream Lord’s face. “No, you don’t.”
my god. you've done it. fine!! FINE! i wrote this because no one seems to be writing for morpheus anymore!!! if you like fics like these, here's my masterlist.
additional notes:
this is fic happens if love n morpheus from love game made up and got their marriage tgt
love never calls dream 'dream' here. it's a title. her husband is morpheus, and that is who she calls
you guys call each other 'fated ones.' that's just my fancy way of saying soulmate lmao. there was a fic somewhere where the author made dream call the reader 'star-mine' since she was a celestial. i loved that. i'd tag the author if i find them
about love and dream still loving their old paramours- i kinda believe that once u love someone that love will never go away. love fades, but never completely. there will always be fondness u feel at the happy memories. that's all i meant.
✢summary: a curse hits megumi and gojo reacts accordingly
✢tags: fushiguro megumi and gojo satoru, nobara pov
✢tw: child abandonment issues?
✢a/n: lets all take a break from whatever the fuck gege akutami has been recently writing. i hope I did dad gojo justice.
Nobara knows she’s fucked as soon as she sees Fushiguro disappear. Her eyes watch in mild horror as her classmate shrinks so quickly until all that is left of him is his uniform.
Itadori was the first to react, shouting a panicked “Fushiguro!” before running towards the pile of clothes.
The door to Shoko-san’s infirmary burst open, revealing an irritated Nobara, followed by Itadori who still had baby Fushiguro in his arms. The child had stopped crying after they passed school gates- maybe he recognized jujutsu tech?- and had settled for wet sniffles instead. Nobara has never seen Fushiguro so pathetic.
Shoko-san was, unsurprisingly, seated behind her desk with papers. She looked at them at the sound of her doors opening, but before she could even talk, Gojo-sensei appeared out of nowhere with his signature annoying grin.
“Yoho~ how did the mission go? I’m sure it went well. I taught you everything you know!”
Nobara could feel her face morphing into an automatic frown. Things were hectic enough as it is, and she didn’t want this moron to ruin baby Fushiguro’s mood any further. They had just endured an hour-and-a-half car ride with a panicked Fushiguro, who insisted on being unconsolable and crying the entire ride back. She just came from a grueling mission. She was sure some of baby Fushiguro’s saliva, and snot landed in her somehow, and if this grandpa-looking sensei of hers made things even worse, she might explode.
“Eh? Megumi?” Gojo sensei asked in confusion after finally noticing the significantly smaller boy. Gojo Satoru’s gaze looks blankly at Itadori’s arms where a smaller Fushiguro is being carried.
As if on cue, Fushiguro breaks out in a full-on wail and cries louder than he ever did in the car.
Nobara already had her trusty hammer in hand, ready to smack the living hell out of her sensei, until she noticed Fushiguro desperately wiggling out of Itadori’s grasp. Both Nobara and Itadori share a confused look before her classmate puts baby Fushiguro down.
As soon as his bare feet touched the cold, sterile floor of the infirmary, Nobara watched in awe as Fushiguro dashed away from them as quickly as he could. It was almost comical how fast he managed to get his tiny feet to run quickly. If this was a cartoon, a cloud of smoke would have been left in his trail.
With his hands out open and eyes wet with a flood of tears, baby Fushiguro rushed to Gojo-sensei, who, to Nobara and Itadori’s surprise, was already squatting down for the boy with arms spread out. Gojo caught Fushiguro easily, one big hand immediately going behind Fushiguro’s head and the other on his back.
“Why did you leave me?” The boy wails, crying on their sensei’s shoulder. “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!”
Fushiguro’s voice cracks at the end of his accusation, and Gojo’s face crumples in a rare show of vulnerability. He shifts, both hands going under Fushiguro’s armpits as Gojo stands. Small, chubby fingers tug his blindfold down, and Gojo-sensei’s blue eyes stare almost lovingly at the crying child with concern. Fushiguro clings to him as if his life depended on it, his tiny fists clenching their sensei’s uniform.
“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo-sensei coos, swaying slightly from side to side. Gojo makes sure Fushiguro is looking at him before making a show of slapping his hand on his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”
Nobara’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Gojo-sensei seemed to have done everything with ease as their baby-fied classmate was now calming down in his arms.
“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!” Fushiguro seethes and pulls the angriest scowl he can muster. But then, with another quieter and sadder voice, he reminds Gojo of his previous accusation. “You left.”
“I didn’t leave you,” Gojo corrects him in a softer tone of voice. His hand reaches up to Fushiguro and smoothes out his spiky hair as the child looks at him with slight distrust. The small boy has stopped wailing. Nobara has never seen her sensei so tender. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”
Nobara blinks. Since he got- what is going on? She opens her mouth to speak but stops as a quiet voice asks Gojo a question.
“But you will?” Fushiguro asks with his pitch high, threatening another onslaught of tears.
Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.
Fushiguro looks at their sensei in distrust, internally debating if he should believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”
“Even then,” Gojo answers easily. Fushiguro’s shoulders visibly relax, and he lets himself melt on Gojo’s chest. The older sorcerer puts back a cheery tone as soon as he notices Fushiguro calms down. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”
A small smile appears on Shoko-san’s face as baby Fushiguro waves shyly embarrassed that she has seen him throw a tantrum. Nobara thinks it’s her first time seeing her smile. But then Shoko-san glances back at them, and the smile disappears.
Somehow, Nobara feels a little guilty. She knows she probably intruded in a scene meant for Gojo and Fushiguro…whatever they are. But it’s not like she had a choice!
Shoko sighs. “Alright, you two,” she ushers them away with a few flicks of her wrist. “We’ll take it from here.”
Gojo-sensei’s head snaps in their direction, so engrossed with Fushiguro that he almost forgot Nobara and Itadori were still in the room. His blue eyes feel like a spotlight, piercing through them threateningly.
The air feels heavy and almost suffocating, and Nobara feels her shackles rise as her hand twitches for her hammer. It took her a while to realize that the pressure was Gojo-sensei’s cursed energy. Nobara’s instincts whisper at her to run.
Behind her, Itadori reads the situation first and bows in a hurry. He is as likely ready to change out of his snot-filled uniform as she is as eager to escape their deranged sensei. “See you later, Gojo-sensei! Bye-bye Fushiguro!”
Itadori snatches Nobara’s hand just as she finishes her clumsy bow. As she lightly runs to her dorms, the thought of a fresh shower chases away any lingering thoughts of what happened.
-
Gojo feels as though he has traveled back in time. He is frozen in both shock and awe as Megumi, once a tall, lanky, and cranky teenager, has been reduced to a barely four-foot-tall child, his eyes streaming with tears at the sight of him.
As if on instinct, Gojo dropped down to his height- a very helpful tip he read from one of those parenting books he read in a panic after he realized he was the textbook definition of a teen dad- and opened his arms.
He sees Megumi sprint, and Gojo has been in this situation a few times before to know that Megumi was about to launch him a rare hug. Not even a moment later, Megumi was all over him. His hands immediately wrap around the boy.
Gojo knows that he is acting on pure selfishness. He knows something is wrong. For one, Megumi is tiny, and second, his Six Eyes sense a lingering feel of foreign cursed energy. He knows he should be more concerned, checking if his students are alright, but Megumi is sobbing in his arms like he used to a decade ago. In his accumulated knowledge of him, Gojo knows that Megumi is a shy boy, and it takes a lot for him to openly demand his affection and comfort. Gojo is more than happy to deliver.
He caresses Megumi’s hair, and Gojo ignores the way his heart sings. He hasn’t seen this Megumi in a long time, and the boy has long refused his affection.
Before Gojo could ask him what was wrong, Megumi’s watery voice echoes throughout Ieiri’s infirmary. “Why did you leave me?” He cries, “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!”
Ah, Gojo thinks as he feels his heart ache. He knows what this is. Megumi has spent most of his early life witnessing too many people come and leave. If he was correct, which he always ways, Megumi has regressed back in age and memory. Gojo couldn’t help but wonder how he must have felt when he awoke with many unfamiliar people. He knows Megumi assumed he had left him then, just like everyone else.
Gojo lifts Megumi with him as he stands, a hand going under his thighs to support the small boy. Megumi tugs down his blindfold, and Gojo lets him. He does not even realize he’s already swaying Megumi from side to side. His body still remembers how to soothe him.
“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo says in an admonishing tone before dramatically slapping his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”
He does not mind playing the fool for Megumi’s state of mind. When he assumed guardianship over Megumi and his sister, Gojo thought of his role as a simple one. He is their benefactor, one that comes over on a rare weekend to leave money for the Fushiguros to sustain themselves. But one weekend turned into two, and Gojo found himself craving the noise and warmth of the Fushiguro household.
“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!”
Oh, how could he even comprehend what he meant to him? Has he forgotten how Gojo learned how to cook to make onigiri-shaped divine dogs for his daily bento? Has he forgotten the movie nights spent on the couch sandwiched between him and Tsumiki? Did he not remember those nights Megumi knocked on his door at night, scared to sleep in his room because his Tsumiki-nee-san was in camp? The animal band-aids? The glow-in-the-dark stickers stuck in his room ceiling?
Gojo watches as Megumi sniffs, eyes darting away from his gaze. His grip on Gojo’s uniform falters. “You left me.”
“I would never leave you,” he says. A memory intrudes his mind with a Megumi similar to this one in front of him. He was angry, his face red with rage, as he hit little fists, landing soft punches on Gojo’s stomach. Gojo didn’t mean to come home late. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”
Instead of being relieved, he could have felt Megumi’s heartbreak. He breathes shakily and asks in a tone that tries to conceal his panic and anger- “But you will?”
Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.
Fushiguro looks at him in distrust, internally debating whether to believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”
Gojo thinks of his almost weekly meetings with Megumi’s high school as he beats other students in a pulp. He thinks of Megumi stretching his arms out, curling his hands to fists, ready to resign himself to a certain death.
“Even then,” he whispers to the boy like it was their little secret. He makes his voice loud and cheery as Gojo exclaims his next words. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”
Megumi avoids her gaze and stares at her pristine white coat instead. He offers her a small wave, and Gojo watches as Ieiri gives a him gentle smile.
A wave of appreciation rolls over him as he realizes that Megumi has as many memories of her as he does with him. Gojo feels so stupid when he thinks about the moments when he thought he was lonely. He had two people in this room who loved him as much as he did them. Then, for a brief moment, his brain scolds him for not remembering his precious little girl who loves him infinitely even when asleep. He hopes she’ll wake soon.
“Alright, you two. We’ll take it from here.”
Immediately, Gojo freezes in panic. His instinct sets his Infinity to engulf Megumu and Ieiri. His next thought was- how did they sneak up on me? Gojo panics as he realizes they have seen him cradling Megumi, consoling him with all the gentleness he could muster. They have witnessed his weakness. They have already taken one from him, and Gojo would be damned if anyone takes another child.
His Six Eyes snap at the two intruders, and it takes him—oh, it’s his students. And they are already half-running towards the door.
As soon as the infirmary doors shut to a close, Gojo feels the heated gaze of his friend.
“You didn’t have to scare them like that,” she scolds. “Now they’ll have more questions after Fushiguro’s back to normal.”
Gojo does feel a vague sense of guilt. He didn’t mean to have his students feel threatened by him. He was just caught unaware for the first time in a long time. It didn’t help that Megumi suddenly became smaller and more affectionate, reminding him of precious memories. His brain had thought there was a Fushiguro Toji-level threat like it does every time someone close comes to him without noticing.
“It’ll fade away in a few hours or days, by the way,” Shoko murmurs, her hands going for a cigarette. “He’ll be back to normal in a few. But you already knew that.”
Gojo slaps her hand before she even reaches a cigarette. Shoko takes one look at Megumi and sighs. She takes in the sight before her.
“Feeling sentimental?” She asks.
Gojo hugs Megumi a little tighter. He closes his eyes and lets himself hold the child. Gojo breathes in his scent and relishes the feeling of his child in his arms. He feels Megumi’s spiky hair softly poking his neck, his warmth; he faintly smells Megumi’s childhood shampoo. He feels Megumi squeeze back. “Let me have this.”
Teenage Megumi would never let him hug him with this much vulnerability, which was fine. Gojo loves teenage Megumi as much as he loves this child version of him, but he rarely asks for him anymore. It makes Gojo feel silly to reminisce like he’s past 50 years old when he’s just 27, but in his humble and correct opinion- he was a teenage dad.
“Never do that again,” Megumi scolds him, voice a little muffled. “I’ll hate you if you do. I’ll hate you. I will.” Each word spoken was more determined after the next, bringing another smile to Gojo’s face. They both know Megumi does not mean it. They both know Gojo would never leave him. Not willingly.
lmk what you think! i'd love to hear comments, your thoughts and whatever this fic made you feel. i'd also appreciate constructive criticism <33
Gojo Satoru is positively beaming. He has had a few unforgettable moments in his life; his first day in Jujutsu Tech, his awakening, the first time he got drunk, that one threesome with you and Ge- he’s getting distracted. Point is, this just might take the cake for the most unforgettable.
He had gotten a call from Nanami this morning asking him to meet up. It was already suspicious that he called him, but Satoru was feeling pretty generous. After all, it’s not always that Satoru could get to hear his kouhai ask for a favor.
Now, Satoru is sitting on a chair in a McDonalds beside you, and sitting on the chair in-front of the both of you is a very, very ashamed and embarrassed Nanami Kento. Fuck, Satoru’s smug. His cheeks have hurt from smiling so widely in the past hour and he’s fairly sure that you’re struggling to hide that smirk away from your face.
Amidst the noise of chattering people, a voice stood out from the rest. A small boy with pink hair and chubby cheeks came running towards your table. His yellow sweater and jean shorts were bright and clean, obviously brand new but hastily bought. “Nanamin-!” he cried as he reaches your table. He looks at Nanami with wide eyes. “Aaah.” He opens his mouth expectantly.
Without missing a beat, Satoru’s kouhai immediately scoops up a small serving of his Oreo McFlurry and feeds the boy who smiles in thanks after chewing the ice cream. He does not hesitate to turn and run back to the play place.
Satoru couldn’t help but sigh in defeat. “Oi, Megumi,” he calls to the child who was also at the play place with his sister. “Why couldn’t you be cute like him?” He whines. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know that Megumi heard him, and how he’s glaring at him right now. Call it a father’s instinct. But, speaking of fathers-
You see, Nanami has been in this exact same position three years prior except he was on the other side of the table. When Satoru confessed that he had not-so-accidentally acquired two children with enough emotional baggage for four adult sorcerers, Nanami went berserk. Satoru remembers that scolding, how Nanami called him irresponsible, how you and Satoru weren’t ready for them, how he was in no position to adopt two children despite him having more than enough resources to sustain Megumi and Tsumiki- only to find out Nanami is good little junior who followed his exact footsteps and basically adopted the first orphan he saw. Satoru wonders how many hours it spent before Nanami threw away his pride and asked him for parenting advice. Karma is real!
“So. Itadori Yuuji, huh,” he starts, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. Satoru watches as Nanami hunches his shoulders just a tiny bit in shame, but glares back at him. Nanami opens his mouth to retort, but before his voice came out little Yuuji came running back with his mouth open for another bite of Oreo McFlurry. Nanami delivers his request and Yuuji goes back to his own business.
“He’s clingy,” you observed. That was the fifth time in ten minutes did the pink haired child go back for ice cream. You suspect its not the ice cream itself, but Nanami’s presence. “He must be anxious if he doesn’t see you for too long.”
And who could blame him? Yuuji’s sole caretaker before Nanami was his grandfather, but after he was eaten up by a curse…
“I’m worried about that,” Nanami admits. “He gets upset when I have to leave work. He has to stay home alone and I get off work late…sometimes not at all.”
“Eh,” Satoru waves off his worries with a hand. “It’ll be like that from the start. You just have to assure them that you won’t leave.”
Satoru remembers this. How Tsumiki tries her best to hide her anxiety when he leaves for a work trip and how Megumi lets Satoru hug him briefly when he comes home. Sometimes both children are surprised he comes back at all despite his constant reassurance.
He quickly learns that these children do not trust the words of adults. Words are easily said, promises easily broken.
“Mhmm.” You nod. “We try to always have one of us be present at night. No simultaneous missions for both of us unless necessary.”
Yeesh, Satoru remembers the circumstances that led to that decision. When the both of you were finally able to come home after separate missions on both ends of Japan, Megumi and Tsumiki had thought you had left them.
“Maybe Yuuji can stay with us just until you get back,” you suggest. “If all three of us are gone, I know I can at least trust Tsumiki with him.”
Nanami nods appreciatively. “Thank you, Y/N-san. I know this must be a bother…”
Satoru shakes his head. “Nah. Besides Megumi needs friends his own age.”
He is worried about his little boy. Megumi isn’t exactly the social butterfly like Tsumiki is. Satoru knows that Tsumiki can create an underground cult and rule the school if she really wanted to, but Megumi would rather die than to talk to someone he deems undeserving.
The boy doesn’t even eat with anyone during lunch, or play with anyone during their free time. Megumi would just summon his dogs and let them roam around the school field, and it’s not like anyone would see.
After Megumi explained this to Satoru, he finally understood the multiple concerning calls he got from Megumi’s teachers. They report him petting the air mindlessly like there were invisible dogs, which…there were.
“But what about school?” You ask, prodding the man a bit. He has hardly shared any of his plans.
“There’s a school nearby my apartment. I’ve already enrolled Yuuji there for the next school year.”
Ah, Nanami, Satoru coos in his mind. So meticulous and well-planned!
“He’s ten by now,” you muse, swirling your straw in coke. “Curses and techniques manifest by four. Do you think he sees-?”
“No,” came Nanami’s harsh reply. He says it with such conviction, like he was willing it to be true. It’s the loudest he had been since he asked both of you to meet him at a McDonalds and begged for parenting advice. “He will never be part of that life.”
To others, Nanami must’ve sounded angry. But to you and Satoru, he just sounded protective. Satoru understands. He would give anything to take Megumi out of the sorcery world.
“I’m jealous,” you admit in a whisper. “I’m scared for Megumi and Tsumiki sometimes.”
“Tsumiki is a non sorcerer,” Nanami points out. “She is innocent.”
You sigh. “I gave her some glasses with my cursed energy to see them just in case.”
Satoru remembers this. You both had found Tsumiki beating herself up about how she’s always left behind. She was the only one who couldn't see Megumi’s dogs. The only one who doesn’t understand why you or Satoru would sometimes flick your hand at a random tree. The only one couldn’t see. You relented quickly, giving her twin glasses that match Satoru’s- Like the ones Maki-chan has!- only to be used inside the house.
Using the glasses outside the house is a strict no-no. Satoru didn’t want her seeing the ugly curses that lurk around the streets. Not that she would see them anyway, considering he had exorcised every curse found within a 300 meter radius around the house and their school. But, still, you never know.
Your words bring a deep frown on Nanami’s face, immediately indicating that he did not agree with your actions. You could feel the disappointment radiating off of the man that Satoru wonders if he regrets asking you for advice.
“I still don’t want her to see curses, but I don’t want her to feel left out.” you reason. “That’s just children, Nanami-kun. They make you bend your morals if it's for the sake of them.”
“Mm,” Nanami hums, leaning back on his chair. His gaze turns to the play place and Satoru follows. The children were building towers out of wooden blocks. They had established an effective system; Yuuji hands Megumi the blocks, Tsumiki directs Megumi where to put it, and Megumi obeys.
They look so peaceful. They look like children.
Nanami stares at Yuuji, who immediately notices his gaze. The child perks up as he catches him, before standing up and breaking into a sprint with his arms open.
Nanami catches the child no problem, but the chair squeaks in protest. Satoru watches as Yuuji hugs him the best he could, with Nanami’s huge palm over the back of Yuuji’s head.
“Ah,” the blonde says, his eyes soft and drunk with love. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this one.”
Satoru gazes back to his own children, finishing the tower of blocks everyone has started. Satoru breaks into a genuine smile. Welcome to parenthood, Nanami.
Hello! I wanted to pop in and tell u that I really love ur prince series! I loved ur writing so much that I ended up rereading it like four times in the past three days skksjsjsjj. My favorite part of your writing was how u wrote how misogyny in the jjk verse shaped the reader’s personality! Thank you so much for sharing ur writing with the world and I’m looking forward to seeing what u write next!
i'm so glad you like it! and im so sorry if its on hiatus for months now, i just think that the story can be better paced but i got too impatient and selfishly wrote the scenes i wanted instead of letting the story flow naturally huhu
When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.
wc — 1.8k
tags — misunderstandings; self doubt; the pitfalls of teenage parenting when you’re all child soldiers; mild angst with a happy ending; happens post sometimes a family is you, teen dad Gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned, part I of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together.
You shove Megumi into his arms, a bundle of bloody black fabric and dead weight. Gojo doesn’t stumble - he never does - but it’s a close call as he instinctively wraps his arms around whatever you’ve pushed onto him.
“Teleport! Teleport!” You’re so frantic you’re incoherent. It takes a full minute, a minute you don’t have, before you realize that you can’t just say things. Gojo, as invincible as he is, can’t read your mind. You have to explain what’s going on, but how can you focus when Megumi is bleeding out? His little face is growing paler and paler by the second.
His hands are so tiny. Why is that the only thing you can focus on? They’re grasping the front of Gojo’s jacket for dear life as he coughs weakly.
“Teleport him back to HQ! Get Shoko!”
You resist the urge to shake Gojo by his lapels, slap some sense into him. It would only hurt Megumi. Why won’t he move?
✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.
✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader
✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.
Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.
Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.
The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.
"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."
His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."
His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."
But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"
Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.
He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"
"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.
"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.
"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.
“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”
“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”
Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”
You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.
Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.
You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.
You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.
“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”
You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.
Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.
When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.
“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.
“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”
“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”
You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.
extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)
