seabreeze

 It’s not like the woman actually exists… right? But, something about the paintings makes Rafayel hesitant to share it with the world. Something about it feels so… intimate? Whenever he looks at the painting, he feels longing and aching in his heart, almost as if his heart recognizes her. The way her long hair strands flow freely around her face, the way her eyes are scrunched up along with her smile. Rafayel can’t understand how he can’t understand his own paintings. How can a painter not know what or who he is drawing? How can a painter become a spectator of his own artwork?

Rafayel begins to think to himself, has he seen this woman somewhere? He taps his forehead to think of where he could have seen this woman before sighing in frustration and giving up. His mind was coming up blank, and Thomas had just texted him asking for an update. Should he just use one of the painting? He takes a picture of one of the paintings and sends it to Thomas. If Thomas accepts it, well he’ll take it as a sign.

“Perfect! It’s great! Who is she?”

Rafayel groans at Thomas’s text and put his phone away.

Who is she…

She haunts, no, not haunt Rafayel quite enjoys the dreams of her, perhaps persistent subject of his dreams, She is the ache in his heart when he wakes up and realizes she is not there, and lastly she is the muse of his paintings.

Rafayel may not know who this woman is, but he realizes he now looks forward to bedtime.

The day for the art gallery has came. Rafayel had made some new paintings for the gallery once he heard it was a charity event. At least that’s what he tells himself, Rafayel secretly hoped that by creating more paintings, people would less likely buy the one of the woman.

Rafayel decided to walk around the gallery as Thomas had walked off to talk to collectors. There were many exhibits, some of paintings and some interactable games and lectures. Apparently, the charity event teamed up with the Hunter’s Association to raise funds for a children’s charity. Money from the paintings goes to the children's charity, and the Hunters from the Hunter’s association will encourage children to work and study hard and potentially encourage them to be Hunters. After some walking around and dodging collectors, Rafayel began to start looking for the exit when he heard a bit of a commotion from Hunterers gathered at a painting. “See guys! I am telling you, doesn’t that look a bit like MC!”  A chirpy voice shouted. A murmurs of “oh my” and “it does!” ensues. Curious, Rafayel decided to head towards the gallery. As he is walking, he sees her next to the painting.  

Yes, Her

The muse of his painting.

Alive, breathing and

Real.

The bottle jets across the room, smashing into the shelf. The contents disperse in the water with a puff before settling to the floor of the cavern. Irate grumbles echo down the entry to the cavern as the Sea Witch inspects and discards her reagents and ingredients.

Rafayel peeks his head into the cavern tentatively, dodging a preserved sea cucumber as it torpedoes past his nose. It continues in a line all the way out of the cavern, trailing bubbles in its wake. He watches it for a moment before turning his head back towards the woman in the cave.

She mutters under her breath, using her tentacles to pull herself along the shelves and hold bottles up for comparison as she ransacks her own materials in search of something specific. The elastic textured skin on her lower half flares fuchsia in frustration, the colour rippling down her body from her waist to the tips of each tentacle arm.

Rafayel smiles as he watches her, fondness beating in his heart. He swishes his tail to propel himself into the room. As he swims, she turns and throws another bottle at the entry to the cavern. This one Rafayel catches neatly against his chest, spinning in a small spiral before coming to a stop against the other side of the cave. He holds the bottle up to his eye to examine the contents; deep red sediment rests at the bottom of the bottle, glimmering in the faint bio-luminescent light in the cavern.

"You don't need to come back until the potion is done, you know," she shoots over her shoulder, expression stormy as she crosses her arms.

He hums in acknowledgement but doesn't defend himself. He shakes the bottle, making the sediment swirl before his eyes before placing it down on a nearby shelf.

"It doesn't go there." She glares at him, and a tentacle snakes towards him, curling expectantly. Instead of handing it to her, he picks it back up and swims over to her. He leans over her shoulder; his long hair tickles down her back and makes her shiver involuntarily.

His hand braces on her shoulder as he floats slightly above her, surveying the shelf of ingredients with an impish smile. He places the bottle down on an empty space between a jar of abalone and a large chunk of quartz crystal. She sighs, reaching up with her hand to grab it and move it to the correct place.

Rafayel intercepts her, snatching the bottle back and ducking around to her other side with the bottle.

"Your system stinks; you should colour code everything so it's easy to find." Playfulness glints in the magenta of his eyes. She stares at him blankly.

"Maybe you Lemurians can discern colour well enough at this depth, but my current system works just fine for my less advanced eyes," she states matter-of-factually. He lifts his chin and quirks his head to the side, preening at the backhanded compliment.

She rolls her eyes at him, billowing out her tentacle arms to approach him and holding out her hand for the bottle. He stretches his arm out behind him, out of her reach. She fixes him with a stare, tentacles curling in frustration beneath her. His smirk doesn't budge as his hip fins flutter him closer to her, until they're nose to nose in the small space. Her eyes narrow to challenging slits. He meets her gaze evenly, unwavering.

One of her tentacle arms sidles up to his arm, encircling his bicep and twining up to his elbow. His muscles flex, trying to pull away as another two tentacles anchor themselves against the wall behind him, pinning him in place. His expression flashes with uncertainty as he realizes he's been trapped. She quirks her head to the side, eyebrow raised, letting him take in the full situation.

Two of her tentacles encircle his body, holding tight to the cavern wall to hold them both in place. Another stretches along his arm, the tip nudging open his closed hand to fetch the stolen bottle from his grasp. Rafayel thrashes his body once, but in the small space he can't get enough leverage to disentangle himself from the roiling mass of the Sea Witch's body.

He swallows hard, a flush creeping over his cheeks and making the fins on his ears flutter. Her tentacle forces open his hand and curls around the bottle, knocking it towards her body. She plucks it out of the water with her hand and inspects it, shooting a chastising look at Rafayel who remains entrapped.

She leans in, pressing her chest into his face as she places the bottle on the shelf behind him. She feels him freeze and stop struggling as her breasts graze his nose through the gauzy fabric draped over her body. She smirks in self-satisfaction, watching the sediments settle in the bottle and using a taloned finger to push it safely to the back of the shelf. She backs off, still holding him against the wall as she looks down on him.

His expression sends a thrill through her: pupils blown wide and glinting with flashes of blue, cheeks flushed making the aquamarine scales on his cheekbones shimmer even more fiercely in the low light. A shiver of sunset hued coral flits over her skin, mottling her camouflage with a ruddy blush. She wants to see more of that look on him.

Her free tentacles curl around themselves in anticipation and her hand finds its way into his long purple hair. Her fingernail scratches a spiral against his scalp as she twirls his silky tresses around her finger. Rafayel swallows hard, eyelashes fluttering.

"I knew the Sea Witch of the Abyssal Rift was feared by many, but I didn't think she captured poor unfortunate souls for the mere crime of incorrectly sorting potion ingredients." His voice is low, holding onto that playful lilt but with an undercurrent of trepidation. This is new; the tension between them is taut, like the rigging of a ship in a gale.

Her suckers squeeze along his arm, detaching and leaving behind a spiralling tattoo of circular marks. The tip of her tentacle teases along the inside of his palm, making his fingers twitch together. His gills flare, pushing water out in warm bursts that swirl between their bodies. His long tongue darts out, licking his lips. Her eyes are fixed on his plush lips as they part, and the bob of his throat as he swallows.

She had admired his beauty from the first day she had met him, when he had come to her with that request to become human. When he had left to fetch the ingredients, she had felt a sense of loss: if he succeeded, this beautiful Lemurian would be gone. No more shimmering tail sparkling with bioluminescence, no more glinting scales in the deep sea depths glowing like stars in the sky, no more gauzy fins draped like translucent silk floating in the water, no more shining aquamarine eyes that flash with mischief.

That alone seems like a crime worth punishing: taking away this beauty from the sea for what? Some human girl? That doesn't seem fair. Lemurians are ruled by love, but it makes them foolish.

Her hand slides down to cup his cheek, caressing the side of his face. The pad of her finger smears the glowing paint that adorns his cheekbone, bleeding down from the corner of his eye like a glistening tear. His eyelashes are so long and dark as they bat against her skin, tickling the back of her thumb.

"This Sea Witch has several reasons to punish naughty Lemurians." She meets his eye, tentacles blooming between them as they crawl up his abdomen. Suckers latch onto his chest, the tips of her tentacles swirl across his skin, tracing along the glowing paint and tugging against the chains of his body jewellery. A tentacle wraps around the meat of his pectoral and squeezes, suckers latching onto his nipple. He gasps in surprise, sharp teeth biting down on his lower lip.

He looks back up at her through his lashes, eyes full of desire. A single droplet of crimson blood dissipates from his lip where his teeth broke through the skin. Her siphons flare at her hips, pushing warm water saturated with the scent of him through her gills. A shiver of icy blue ripples down her body as she takes a deep breath.

"Your Magnificence," he starts to protest, the words thick on his tongue, "I already have a lover."

A sobering shock washes through her emotions, like the chill of descending through a thermocline. Her skin darkens, clouding over with a deep, roiling burgundy. Her lips twitch into a sneer. That human girl is ungrateful. She doesn't deserve this immortal life, she doesn't know what Rafayel is giving up for her, and how could she? She's only a human.

Her gaze turns cruel as she looks down on her prey; a wriggling sardine caught in the tangled web of her tentacles. She should show him what he's giving up by confining himself to land in the name of this love.

She doesn't say anything to him. Keeping him firmly ensnared in her tentacle arms, she drops her hand from his face and turns her upper body to the shelf beside her. This jar is kept tightly sealed; within lies a single frond of bitter, fermented sea grass. Rafayel watches her, chest still heaving as he struggles futilely against her grasp. She shoots him one more sidelong look before encircling the jar with a tentacle and unscrewing the lid beneath his nose.

Her brow is set with determination as she wafts the jar beneath his nose, permeating the water with the diffused scent of the herb. Rafayel's eyes flash with momentary betrayal before he closes them, turning his head to the side away from the jar. Her heart twists with guilt for a moment, but she steels herself and forces the jar beneath his nose. It's for his own benefit.

After a moment, his struggles weaken, lacking any heat as his skin heats beneath her. Scorching heat radiates from his skin as his eyes blink open; his pupils eclipse the sunset hues of his eyes and absorb all the light in the room. He angles his jaw and light flashes at the back of his eye, predatory.

A slow smile creeps up her lips. Her Lemurian toy is finally ready to play with.

Tentacles unfurl as she slides over his body, teasing and touching wherever she pleases. Rafayel protests weakly, soft sounds bubbling from his lips as she lingers on sensitive spots with her suckers. His body becomes tattooed with red suction marks. His gills work overtime, sucking in violent breaths and forcing hot water against her skin. She slides her fingers gingerly through his gills, letting the soft skin close over the digits and seeing him spasm at the sensation.

Her siphons flare with arousal and she spares a tentacle to rim the opening to her own gills. She shivers, goosebumps prickling over her upper body as a shock of deep aquamarine flares down her lower body. One of her hands draws back to her own body as well, circling at her breast through the thin fabric that covers her chest. Her lips part and she swallows hard, watching Rafayel stop fighting the sensations and start to lean into her touch.

Feeling triumphant, she grasps his chin with her hand, pulling him back to face her.

"Are you sure you want to give this up for some human girl?" She goads him, thumb and forefinger squishing his cheeks together.

He blinks up at her, eyes fighting for lucidity as he answers, "She has a temper like a storm…just like you, Your Magnificence…"

Indignant, green jealousy flashes through her, and her fingernails dig into his cheeks as she stares at him.

"I don't need to hear what you have to say, after all. Let me show you the pleasures that you're forfeiting so you can make an educated decision."

One of her tentacles unfurls up his neck, tip teasing across his plush lips. He looks up at her with wide eyes as it pushes into his mouth and slides to the back of his throat. She groans as she feels the warmth of his hot mouth enveloping her tentacle arm. She thrusts further, compressing and filling the space in his mouth. He gurgles but doesn't fight, a small stream of bubbles escaping the side of his mouth as his lips are stretched to accommodate. He groans around the intrusion, swallowing and sucking obediently.

Seeing his body loosen, she maneouvres to his side. Both of his hands are pinned behind him, pushing his chest forward. His tail fin flutters uselessly at the floor of the cave, gossamer hip fins chasing the warmth of her body. Following the line of his body chains, those soft scales just below where skin becomes scale begin to part. Beads of arousal drip down his tail as his cocks begin to emerge.

She slides the tips of two tentacles down his body, playing at those soft, sensitive scales, and watching as his whole body jerks in response. Drool escapes the corner of his mouth, dissipating in the water between them. Her hand releases his face and scrapes a line down his throat and chest, leaving a red trail of raised skin. The pads of her fingers catch on those first few scales but continue downwards to the slowly opening slit.

She leans in, perching her lips below his ear to whisper, "A human body doesn't have this."

Her fingers slip down and part the scales fully, tentacles slipping past the opening to wrap around the concealed cocks. Rafayel groans, the sound muffled to her ears but vibrating against her senses as she thrusts her tentacle into his mouth shallowly. Her breath shudders out of her, body flashing with myriad colours. Her tentacles squeeze and squirm as they retrieve his two cocks from their protective encasement.

She uses her fingers to part the scales before bringing them together and sliding into the now empty slit. Rafayel bucks into her hand, pushing her fingers deeper against his sensitive walls. She curls her fingers, beckoning inside him as her tentacles continue to pump and squeeze his cocks. Her other hand wraps around him to tease at his nipples. He whines and squirms, eyes squeezed shut. Glimmering pearls form at the corners of his eyes and fall to the floor with soft taps.

"Shhh, see how beautiful you are? A gorgeous creature, with the most lovely scales," she coos in his ear, tongue darting out to lick his quivering ear fins. "A human can't even see all the colours that shine on your magnificent tail."

"Tell me," her voice is commanding, "what's the name of your lover? Maybe I should visit her, see why you're so enraptured by her. A human that earned the undying love of a Lemurian, to make him forfeit his people, his body, his self. She must be very special."

She withdraws from his mouth, her suckers pulling his lower lips down into a pout as she gives him a chance to speak. Rafayel blinks heavy eyelids as he looks at her, skin flushed and completely covered in scratches and blooms of hickeys.

"My love, she's captivating like the sea… her laugh is like the dancing sea spray," he gasps the words out, brow furrowing as she continues to play with him. Her tentacles squeeze and pump the slick lengths of his cocks, pointed tips slipping into the slit at the top of each. He bucks against her hand again, forcing her fingers deeper into himself as he humps against her.

"That's not what I asked for." She stops moving. Everything stops. The grip on his cocks loosens to a teasing graze, the suckers on his chest unlatch and tickle over his skin, her fingers withdraw from his slit trailing arousal fluid in a sticky bridge between her hand and his body.

He whines, as she repositions to hold him in place. A tentacle wraps around his throat, teasing at his lips.

"Tell me." Her voice is firm as her grip tightens on his neck. He looks up at her, pathetic, ruined, mind bleary from the fragrant herbs.

The word that spills from his lips is so unexpected, so joyous that her whole body shivers and squeezes around him. It's her name.

Every inch of her bunches and tenses, squeezing and swirling and sucking and sticking. The suddenness of it all makes him throw his head back, baring his throat as he comes. Glistening milt spurts between them as Rafayel moans. She tenses in elation as her own pleasure bursts within her, colours rippling over her skin as ecstasy shivers up her spine.

So overtaken, she grasps him, lips pressing over his and encompassing his mouth in a hungry kiss. He moans against her lips, long tongue snaking into her mouth and exploring her teeth. Her fingers knot in his long hair, tugging at the root as she latches onto him.

She feels the pearls of his tears fall against her nose and cheeks. Confused, she withdraws and searches his eyes. Rafayel looks up at her with wet eyes full of guilt, she doesn't even notice that he's freed his hand until it presses a bottle to her lips. She swallows in surprise and balloons across the room away from him.

"You can't remember yet. It's for the best." He watches her and more pearls litter the floor.

She flashes magenta, furious, but her movements are lethargic, slow. Her eyes blink and fall heavily.

"I'll sing to you tomorrow, my beloved bride."

dividers by @/cafekitsune

A/N

The abrupt knocking made him jump a little, fingers fumbling to lock the screen.

"Come in!" he called, voice smooth, unbetraying of his true emotions.

The door opened, revealing you, smiling sweetly while apologizing, and his heart started beating a bit faster. So cute, so breathtaking, even after a hard day of fighting. There were some bruises here and there that dimmed his mood a little, an annoyed cough escaping his lips. It didn't take long for you to catch his gaze.

"Yeah, some things were pretty rough. But it's okay, I dealt with them! Don't worry, bruises would disappear soon enough."

"You should be more careful," he scorned, motioning you to sit down.

You are going to be a mother soon. He added internally. Zayne knew you'd be a great mom: doting, caring, kind. As for your recklessness and line of work, he was confident it would change eventually, when you'd realise how great it would be to be a housewife. His housewife.

"The hospital is so empty, are you not scared to be here alone this late?" you chatted naively, hand diving into a bawl with your favorite candies that always met you on the corner of his desk.

"I'm not alone, there's a hospital wing with patients right next to ours," Zayne pushed the bawl closer to your hand.

"Yeah, but what about ghosts? Don't you believe in ghosts?"

If you noticed that the taste was weird, you didn't mention it. Maybe you were too tired, maybe they were tasty enough for you to not mind the change at all. Either way, when you finished the fifth one, Zayne considered it enough for him to finally stand up.

"Let's do a quick check-up."

His had office always smelled like fruits, chocolates and medicine: the first two were always gifted to him by grateful patients and the latter was self-explanatory. Tonight though he went out to buy special green tea scented decorative sticks, because he was told they have a very relaxing effect. And he really wanted you to relax.

"You sure you're not hurt anywhere?" his professional tone was a drastic contrast to the gentle touch of his palms moving and pressing around your body.

While he was actually checking up on your condition, frowning at each of your bruises or scratches, his fingers weren't doing much of probing but rather massaging, stimulating. Your calves, under your knees, thighs, arms, fingers. When he craned your face upwards by the jaw, he could see your eyes roaming around the room awkwardly. Not because you were in discomfort, but because it was becoming too sensual.

When his fingers ghosted over your collarbones, your breath hitched.

"You alright? Did I hurt you?" tone professional and clinical, a perfect picture of a doting doctor, even if said in a half-whisper to not ruin the atmosphere.

"N-no! It's fine!" you chuckled, deflecting.

You probably thought you were being such a pervert: your friend, your doctor is checking up on you, caring for you, and you're getting squirmy, because he's too attractive (and, well, you're ovulating).

For a second Zayne wondered if he should have just seduced you normally, organically, but quickly dropped the idea: you wouldn't let him finish inside on your first night together and you particularly mentioned not wanting kids in a foreseeable future. He could potentially talk you out of this but you were risking life every day. Each day was more dangerous than the last, so the time was running out and he couldn't waste it.

He sat you down on the sofa, your shaking arms raising your shirt to let him listen to your fastened heartbeat. What for you was an embarrassment, for him felt like a small victory. He was warming up your body, potentially, so if you saw any residual fluids on your underwear, you'd assume it was from this: from this intimate checkup that looked more like a massage than actual medical procedure. He even went as far as splaying palms over your chest, forefingers and pinkies touching the upper side of your boobs. Your thighs twitched, and Zayne actually couldn't supress a little smirk, embarrassing you even further.

He saw the exact moment the drugs kicked in: your eyelids started to drop, gaze became less focused. You weren't even fighting it, assuming it was just natural tiderness. He didn't comment on that either.

"Lay down on your stomach for me, please," he whispered.

It took you less than 5 minutes to actually dose off. Good, of course, but he still was concerned a little: he told you repeatedly not to overconsume anything and here you were, eating 5 of the candies. Another one and he would have stopped you because it was too dangerous.

He called out your name softly, then louder. You were dead asleep.

Carefully Zayne turned your body over. The dark brown old leather sofa was big enough for you to stretch your legs, so he didn't have to worry about you being uncomfortable. One leg he left as it is, another placed on his lap, sliding sideways between them, his back to the sofa back. It was an unnatural position and his body strained but he still was cautious for you to wake up.

Looking at your relaxed face, massaging your calf slightly he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

You were going to be mad. Maybe you'd even try to cut him off from your life. Sometimes you were naive but not stupid: if your GP didn't tell you about your pregnancy he was very much guilty. Or even the father.

Zayne hummed thoughtfully. He didn't know exactly how he'd manage to keep you docile and accepting. Maybe he'd give you some depressant stimuli, something to make you slow. It would inevitably interfere with your work and he'd ask you to take a sick leave. Normally you wouldn't obey but there's nothing some dark market pills couldn't do. And then, when you'd come to your senses, it would be way past abort due. Perhaps, you'd even already come to terms with it.

It was a quick train of thought, a vivid picture - you with rounded baby snuggling up to him in his home. He would have taken of you, don't you worry.

Kiss came the first. A cautious and tender press of his lips to yours. It was one way, obviously, but he still felt like fucking you without a kiss was wrong. Then his hands hiked up your shirt more, tugging bra caps down and sucking on your nipples. Apart from him enjoying it - a feeling of your tits under his mouth instantly giving him a raging boner - he was doing it as part of his professional approach. This would have made you even wetter.

He didn't have much time though. Because he wanted your sleep to feel natural, he didn't give you anything too harsh that would have had nasty side effects. Zayne had always prioritized your health after all.

He stood up. Your uniform pants were too tight, so he had to tug off your shoes, sock and them, cursing mentally and reminding himself that he had to do it quicker now. Explaining why you were half-naked would have been tremendously complicated.

Your underwear stayed though. The first thing Zayne noted was that you were soaked. Was it from him sucking your nipples or were you just attracted to him this hard as well? He entertained himself with the idea that it was latter.

He still used the lube he prepared before. Absolutely nothing could have indicated there was an intercourse. So, at first, he prepared you with one finger, then adding the second, never forgetting about the clit that started to swell. You were so warm inside, so slippery, so welcoming, that he couldn't refrain from licking you a bit too.

"You drive me crazy," he admitted breathlessly into your folds even if you couldn't hear him.

But the time was running out. It wasn't sex, he reminded himself, It was a necessity. He had to put a baby inside you. Had to breed you. It was natural. It was your mission. And he wanted to be the one to share it with you.

Because of both, natural and artificial, lube his cock slid in you without much of resistance. You were ready, accepting, even bucked your hips, chasing the pleasure. Oh, how much he wished to fuck you properly.

One thrust, another. He was trying to be deliberate, purposeful, but the way your pussy was clumping around him made him lose his composure at all. Your body was supposed to be relaxed, why were you to desperate to milk him as soon as possible.

"You're so...beautiful," he was grunting, rutting into you more demandingly.

He leaned over, kissing you again even if you couldn't reciprocate at the moment. His heart was so full of love towards you, so full of excitement at the prospect of having a baby together. Just nine months and then some more and maybe he'd impregnate you again.

That idea, that thought of you belonging to him forever, of giving him children, of walking today with his seed inside of you, as you were going to see that colleague of yours, or the artist, or that mafia boss, or, hell, what if you were meeting your brother today? While Zayne's cum was lodged deep into your womb.

His vision went white, hips jerked and he spilled inside you with a barely contained moan.

He stayed like that for a moment, caressing your lower belly, before finally pulling out.

He cleaned you with tissues, put back your clothes, then, before returning to his desk, he crouched by your head:

"You'll be such a beautiful mommy," and kissed you again.

It was another twenty minutes when you finally stirred away. The office was still dimly lit, scented sticks burned out, and the only sound being Zayne's hypnotizing typing.

"Did I dose off?" you murmured, sitting up.

"Yes, but I don't mind it. At least, I wasn't alone with the ghosts, right?"

You gave him a little smile. He was too endearing like this, whenever he played into your jokes. It was rare but heartfelt moments.

As you bid him goodbye, you were feeling refreshed. Sleeping for apparently an hour or so really helped against your fatigue.

Though you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was a little bit wrong...

Zayne

Having two evols was strange. On one hand, he could cool himself with the ice during the piping hot days, but on the other, he struggled getting into his clothes with the two sticks on his head.

Yes, his antlers were a daily issue, sometimes causing a strain in his neck when going to bed or accidentally bumping into things.

He was a temporary medic for a mission with the Hunters Association when he inhaled with an aroma— one that alters your anatomy and biology.

Luckily, it was just antlers, a small tail that could be hidden beneath his waistband, and deer instincts. Thankfully, he didn’t have hooves, or else work would be impossible, but man, was being around you a pain. He didn’t think the feelings he quietly hid away would put him out there anytime you were near, but they did. Still, he did his best to keep his composure, which meant keeping some distance from you.

Zayne was going through some paperwork when he heard a knock at the front door. He got up and scratched the base of his right antler as he walked out his office and headed for the door. He opened it, and saw you standing there, stopping himself from widening his eyes like he was in front of headlights.

“Hey, Zayne! I was nearby, and stopped at a cafe for some snacks. They had these new flavors of maracons and I was reminded of you, so I got you some!” You smile.

He clears his throat, feeling his body warming up, and nods slightly. “Thank you.”

He steps aside, and you’re a bit surprised, but you walk in anyway. He had been avoiding you for the last week, and you weren’t sure why, but some of his colleagues had mentioned he was also avoiding them, so you knew it wasn’t in your head. Everyone knew he got hit with the evol, but nobody suspected his behavior was because of that.

You stand off to the side and look straight at his kitchen as he closes the door. “You can just set them on the counter. I was looking at some paperwork from the hospital.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway. I’m hanging out with one of my coworkers in a couple minutes, but I just wanted to drop these off and check in on you.” You lightly shrug.

“Is it Tara?”

“Andrew.” you took your phone out to text him.

You were going to hang out with another man instead of him?

He ignores the jealousy fueling up, and nods. “Well I’m doing alright, thanks for asking.”

You softly step toward the counter, and set the bag of treats down. “Alright, well I’ll get going then.”

You nod, and turn back to the door when he calls out to you.

“Hey–” Your hand lifts and goes to grab the knob but stops.

“I know I’ve been… off… I’m not doing it because I want to, but because I need to.” You turn to him, and your gaze softens.

You look up at his head, the two bones sticking out in different directions then back at his face. “Does it… have to do with that?”

He hums, and gives a light nod. “Let’s just say my senses have heightened. I’m still me, but…”

You watch his eyes shift away, and his face slowly reddens. “Aw, Zayne! You’re blushing!”

He blinks and looks in the direction of his office. Anywhere, but you.

You step toward his couch, and sit down next to the arm rest. “Tell me what’s on your mind, doc.”

“I don’t want to waste your time. Your coworker will think you ditched him.” He fidgets with his fingers.

“You can never waste my time, Z. Come talk to me,” you whisper, and it makes his heart do backflips.

His eyes move down to the ground then back at you. He doesn’t want to ruin this— ruin the platonic connection between you two, but his urges were becoming hard to control, and all he could think about was mating with you.

Making you take his seed. Making you his.

He walks over to the couch and sits on the opposite side, far from you.

“Why are you all the way over there?” You blink.

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. But he carefully scoots closer to you, and you watch him get increasingly awkward.

“Zayne?” His ears perk up, and his heart beats faster.

His eyes slowly move to their corners and look at you, and the gesture gives off an uncanny feeling.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well,” he whispers, moving closer to you.

You look at him surprised, and don’t move as he gets closer.

Fuck it.

“I’ve… been thinking… about you. A lot, lately…” he whispers, keeping his eyes on the table.

You feel your chest warm up, and look down shyly. “Why?”

He lets out a soft sigh, and glances at you. “You mean a lot to me, you know? I’m not used to feeling these things… when I was feeling these emotions the first time, I forced them down, locked them away. But now that I have these… urges…” he moves closer, and your eyes widen a fraction.

“If I asked… would you let me touch you?” He stares deep into your soul, and your face warms.

“In that way…?” your eyes widen and you quickly catch sight of his hand lifting and pressing on your shoulder.

“I know it seems sudden but, believe me when I say that, I’ve had these feelings long before I got hit with this evol… it just made then come to light and I’ve been struggling to keep my distance…”

The Zayne you knew was no longer present, but a man with a burning desire; a man who was tired of being a gentleman.

“Zayne…” you whisper, and the little rope of restraint holding him back, just snaps.

~

The couch squeaks quietly from the rigorous movement on it. Clothes scatter around the coffee table, and on it, with their owners interlocked nearby. You bite your lip and grip the pillow as Zayne thrusts into you at a hurried pace.

“So warm… you’re perfect, my love,” he whispers against your back.

Your pussy squelches as his dick slides in and out, the juices building up and dripping at the gesture. Your sweet moans fill his minimalistic living room, uncharacteristic to the area. His hands slide down from your ass to your waist, and he arches your back more, needing to get deeper.

You yelp out and bite down on the couch’s armrest, whining and mewling as his length strangely thickens and elongates.

“Z-Zayne! Oh god, y-you’re so deep!!” Your cry muffles with the fabric in between your teeth.

His pace becomes sloppy, and before you know it, he harshly pushes into you, letting you take in the heat of his seed as it fill your womb that aches for him. He groans loudly against your shoulder and bites down on it— not too hard, but hard enough to leave his teeth markings.

Your eyes roll back, and your legs shake as you cum with him, squeezing his dick impossibly tight. The two of you lay there, trying to catch your breaths, but Zayne isn’t Zayne if his stamina runs out. After his short break, he changes your positions so you’re straddling his waist, and slides back in, holding you up by your ass.

You whimper, and grip the thickness of his antlers, peeking over your shoulder and watching him fuck your filled cunt. He tilts his head down and attacks your neck, kissing, licking, biting all on it. You’re surprised at how he hasn’t broken into a sweat, let alone slowed even a bit.

“When you told me you’d be with that man… I-I tried not to get jealous…” your tightness suffocates him, and he feels like he’s about to pass out. “But fuck, I don’t want any man around you except me… I’m… s-sorry for my selfishness, love…”

Hearing Zayne curse makes your body heat up more, and you moan against his lips. Your hips move on their own, going up and down his length before stopping and grinding against him. His arms tightly hug your waist, wanting no space between you two.

“Stay with me tonight… tomorrow, forever… stay by my side…” you gently bounce up and down, staring in his eyes after his hands cup your face.

“Be mine…” and who were you to deny your crush of nearly 14 years?

Caleb

He sat in his office on Base, watching you from a few cameras somewhere in Skyhaven. You came up to visit him for the weekend, and were going around the city to find stuff to do, stuff to see. A guy got a little too close for Caleb’s liking, and he was forced to watch you smile and laugh with the stranger.

His jaw and fist clenches.

The summer heat had been doing numbers on this animal evol he accidentally got a few weeks ago, and it was making sll the feelings he tried to force down, come bsck up and show themselves. He had a primal urge to just… breed you. Scent you, make everyone in this fucking world kneo you were his, and his alone.

He wanted a wall— no, a room— of nothing but pictures you fucked out because of him; covered and filled to the brim of his cum and nothing else.

It was his way of marking his territory.

He watches you write something down, he’s assuming your number, for the loser, and hears a knock at the door.

“Enter.” An officer steps in, informing him the vehicle is ready.

Looks he’ll be paying you and your little friend a visit.

~

You head for the park after stopping by the cafe for a cup of coffee. It was your first day on vacation in Skyhaven, and you wanted to take your time setting in. You turn the corner and bump into a stranger, nearly spilling the latte onto him.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” Your words rush out as you stare at him.

“I’m all right. Thanks,” he softly smiles when he looks at you.

You take in his features, including that smile, and feel a bit shy. You move to walk around him, but he follows your direction and calls out to you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out for coffee some time? Not now of course because you already have one, but… you’re really pretty and I’d like to get to knoe you.” His words flutter your heart, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Oh, thank you, but I’m not from here, and I’m only here for a week before I head back home.”

He nods his head understandingly. “So, is that a no?”

You blink. “I mean, I can go on a date with you, but it won’t be this week because I’m on vacation and would like the alone time.”

He takes out a piece of paper and pen from his shirt pocket and slowly hands it to you. “Could I have your number then?”

You look at him a bit surprised, then think how this is your first time being asked out without Caleb lingering around or ruining things for you. You stuff your coffee between your arm and breast, and quickly write your number down, then hand him back the pen.

“Thank you… I’ll text you later, yeah?” You nod and bid him farewell before you two part ways.

You weren’t aware that a few street cams had been watching the interaction closely, with the person behind them calmly seething and calculating his next kill.

~

You sat on the bench, and drink the coffee, watching the birds fly around and kids playing with each other. The cherry blossom trees bloomed beautifully, stretching up to the sky in a bushy and perfect shape.

Your ear catches the sound of footsteps approaching, and you don’t bother looking at the person until they stand in front of you. You stop midway of taking a sip and slowly move your eyes up from their boots to their face.

“Caleb?”

“Where’s your friend?” His calm yet cold voice brings shivers to your shoulders.

“My… friend?” Your hand lowers the coffee from your lips.

“The one you were just chatting with.”

“He’s not my friend. Just some stranger I bumped into.” He hums.

“You give him your number?” You freeze.

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” He shrugs before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

“What the hell, Caleb?!—”

“It’s Colonel. Watch your tongue.” He hisses as you get dragged to his vehicle.

“Ugh, let go of me!” You thrash under his grasp, forcing yourself to not look around at the bystanders watching.

You get pushed into his sleek black SUV before he climbs in after, and the cars jerks forward.

~

Your coffee was long cold and tasted gross by the time you two got home. You set it down on the counter and stomp to the guest bedroom.

“Where are you going?” His tone from earlier was replaced with a softer and curious one.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.” You don’t bother to look st him, and walk into the toom, slamming the door.

He sighs, and closes the front door, taking his shoes off. He stares at the hallway you were just in, like he’s contemplating what to do next. His tall figure slowly creeps down the path, before making it in front of your door.

“Pips—”

“Shut up! I’m so fucking annoyed right now. I don’t wanna talk to you!” You yell from the other side, getting undressed.

His jaw clenches and he huffs. “Don’t be like that, please. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

You stomp over and rip the door open. He looks down at you wide and sad puppy eyes then takes his hat off. The pointy, hairy ears immediately pop up then flatten back against his head. His eyes quickly trail your figure, seeing the previous outfit had been replaced with a t-shirt and shorts. He tries hard to keep the growing boner at bay.

“You’re protecting me from getting a date? Protecting me by embarrassing me in public?”

“You know it’s just an act. I never willingly want to hurt you—”

“Bullshit, Caleb! Every single time I’m talking to a guy, you’re there, being weird and totally unsupportive!”

“Because none of those guys deserve you!”

“You say that about every guy I’ve talked to! And that’s more than I can count on both hands!!” Your arms cross. “How did you even know I was there?!”

“I was watching the cameras, pipsqueak.”

“Well, stop doing that.” You go to slam the door but his hand presses on it.

“You know I can’t do that. I have to make sure that you’re safe.” He barely uses strength to push the door open.

You turn to stomp away, but he reaches out and wraps his arms around you.

“Let go of me.”

“No… I miss this.”

“You don’t deserve this. You ruin everything every time I try to do stuff, you’re always there raining on my parade.” You squirm in his embrace.

He turns you around and grasps your forearms. “Do you want to know why I do that?”

You glare in his eyes.

“Because I love you.” He says like it’s the last thing he’ll ever be able to say.

“I love you so much. You’re my world, my heart, my angel. Every thing I do is to ensure that you stay that way. These guys— none of them deserve you and I meant that. I’ve risked my life, all so I can come back to you—”

“I didn’t ask you to do that—”

“Don’t say that.” His tone hardens.

It falls quiet momentarily, and you just stare at each other.

He pulls you close, with your chest touching his abdomen. “I can’t keep pretending to be your best friend when I want to be your boyfriend… y-your husband.” He whispers the last part, his eyes filled with all the adoration and need in the world for you.

His pokes out of his pants and rubs against your thigh. His ears remain flat against his head after spilling his feelings out. “I can’t let you be with anyone else because no one will go lengths to love you like I will, and I know that’s a fact.”

His heart thrashes harshly in his chest. The fear of rejection weighs on his shoulders heavily, but he will have you, one way or another.

“Caleb…” you blink twice, letting your head tilt down as you look at the ground.

“Now you know… why I act the way I do… now you know why I won’t stop… cockblocking you and getting in between you and these randoms… I want you. I need you, more than them.” His voice cracks as he pulls you completely against him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“… you’re such a puppy… so clingy and needy.” You spat in his shoulder, patting his back.

“Love me… please, angel.” You pull back a bit to stare at him.

You can admit that you had some feelings for him, but at the time, you couldn’t tell if they were what you had always felt or were something different.

But looking at him now, you see he’s no longer your Caleb, but a Caleb that’s been hiding his true self from you for years, all because he’s ached to fulfill his one wish of mating with and loving you.

~

Your eye glaze over as you watch his dick push and pull inside you. Your feet dangle over his shoulders as he towers over you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and watching the sight below.

“Fuck, you feel so good, princesss. Hhhh, shiiiit!!” He whines, his tails wagging happily. “A-Always knew you would, but this… this is beyond what I imagined… ngh!!”

The bed creaks and shakes violently as his thrusts get deeper and faster, with him needing to be inside you completely, and not just by his dick either.

His arms swiftly curl around you along with his body as his orgasm rushes in, giving you a few more fast thrusts like the dog he is before settling deep inside and releasing his hot knot. He huffs and whimpers, thrusting the cum into you like a toy pussy.

“N-need to be inside… all the way… ‘s not e-enough…!” He pants as his dick jumps and balls twitch.

He has to be under your skin, had to breathe inside you, Live in you.

Because being balls deep is not enough. He needs to physically feel and see your heart beating, the blood and cells moving through your veins and organs. A Caleb without you is not a Caleb at all, especially if you’re with someone else when he is and isn’t around. He doesn’t want anyone else in your life except him. He can give you everything your heart could ever desire— love, sex, money, worship.

You don’t even have to ask, just exist in his space.

And he’s all yours.

Sylus

He stood at the window of his bedroom, watching outside. He invited you over for a little meeting, but you told him you were busy elsewhere and couldn’t make it.

Silly, kitten. Don’t you know he always gets what he wants?

His phantom tail sways in a way like he’s waiting for something, and as if on cue, the door of his bedroom opens. In come the twins with you being held in his grasp.

“What the hell, Sylus?! I said I was busy!”

He doesn’t turn right away, and just takes a sip of his wine. The bittersweet flavor settles on his tongue before he speaks.

“Leave.” Is all he says, and the twins gently let you go before departing and closing the door behind them.

You stare at it for a moment then look at him, agitated and confused. “What the fuck is this about?”

He turns to finally look at you, and takes in the sight. A dress he bought you for your birthday a couple years ago, sits perfectly on your figure with heels that shouldn’t be worn outside, but instead, in the bedroom.

He sets his glass down, and steps toward you, but you hold your ground.

“I was wondering what could possibly be making you busy, considering it’s your day off.” His deep voice rumbles out.

“I didn’t see you with any friends, you weren’t in your house or at any store... I let Mephisto go and check on you, and he shows me you’re… on a date?” He almost grimaces.

“Why does it matter to you what I do, Sylus? I’m a grown woman with a life. I’m not always doing hunter shit or going on undercover missions here.” You snap, resting your hands on your hips.

He takes more steps forward before standing in front of you, and pulling you close by your waist. “It matters to me when you’re wearing an outfit so sexy and scandalous, but going on romantic outings with some peasant.”

His red eyes stare deep into yours, like he’s holding your soul captive. Your eyebrows furrow, and you force your mind out of the gutter, turning your head away from him. “You know it’s funny. When I first met you, and you made me find that brooch, I asked you if you did all that shit because you liked me. And you know what you said?”

“Clearly, you’ve read to many fairytales.” The flashback plays in both of your minds.

“From that moment on, I knew this wasn’t anything but business. No pleasure, just business. On top of that, why would I waste my time on an arrogant man who lets everyone know he’s untouchable? Who lets everyone know that he’s better than anybody in the damn world? Why should I ever compete with my lover on anything?” Your voice softens, but your glare is very much the opposite.

You move to turn away, but his arms shift, curling around your completely under your abdomen. “Let go, Sylus.”

He doesn’t say anything, and lets his head settle in the crevice of your neck. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

You don’t speak and stare at his bedroom door. You can feel his heart thump against your shoulder, and sigh.

“Kitten, you never have to compete with me. With you, you always win. I’ve been at your mercy since we laid eyes on each other. You could hurt me, and I’d still want you, your love, your heart…. You really don’t know what you do to me, do you?” He whispers in your ear.

You feel a breeze near your leg, making you look down to find nothing there. But, it feels like something’s wrapped around it.

He nuzzles his nose behind your ear and growls. “When I saw you with him, I wanted to show up and kill him right there… how dare he take you from me…”

His arms move back so his hands can slide over your stomach. He tikts his head down and stares at your breasts. “I wanted to take you on that table, in front of all those people… let them know you’re mine.”

His lips press softly on your neck, and you unconsciously give him more room to go at it. Your jaw clenches as you feel your nipples harden and panties getting wet.

“I’ve tried to keep my urges at bay… but it’s hard when all I want is to stuff you full with my babies.” He harshly turns you around and throws you over his shoulder with one hand.

“Hey! Put me down!” You punch his back, wiggling around.

He lays you on his bed, and you crawl back, with him crawling toward you. Your back hits the headboard, and he stops just a few centimeters from your face.

God, he’s so… massive.

Your face and body heat up as your mind imagines what it’d look like if the two of you were naked with him on top of you.

“You don’t need to imagine it,” he breathes out, darting forward and capturing your lips for himself.

You didn’t even tealize his right eye was glowing, let alone realize that you thought that, but there’s no stopping him now.

~

Your nails dig into his bare back as he steadily thrusts into you, kissing and biting your neck. The faint bruises litter around the skin, creating a beautiful sight of his claiming. You cry on his pillow as he stretches you out wider than any man or toy ever, but the pain feels so good.

Your left hand crawls up into his hair and grips the strands, keeping his head against your neck as he takes your body and soul for himself.

“I-I’m coming! Sylus…!!” You yelp when he slams into you and groans against your shoulder, biting down on it.

The sensation is too good to stop now, and he flips you both over, putting you on top of him and straddling his waist. Your body’s weak from the strenuous movement, but he’s not done with you. You whine as his fingers mold into the curve of your head, lightly gripping the strands as he fucks up into you. His hips stay raised as his tail slowly slighters up and wraps around your waist, claiming you as its own too.

“You’re all mine… our souls have been bound for centuries…” he growls as your walls squeeze him when he confesses.

“I’m never letting you go. You cannot get rid of me that easily, sweetie.” Your mind fizzles as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

Your pussy drips down his length and balls with bits of white substance slowly oozing out, and your hands scramble behind you to grab onto his thighs. You find some stength to move on your own, and start bouncing on him, making him move his hands down to your waist and watch you with devotion and lust.

His orgasm surges through once more and he quickly pulls you against him, tightly hugging you as he cums again. Your body trembles as your own pleasure overwhelms you, and your arms hug his neck. After so long of waiting for his mate, he finally found her and captured her again.

And he would not let her escape for another time.

Rafayel

The canvas stood idly in his living room, with some marks of color stamped in ways that created a beautiful work in progress. He’s staring at the image, having known what he wanted to paint earlier and quickly picking up the brush.

Rafayel knew he was drawing you, but not just in a cute or majestic way. It was now a painting of you in a questionable position, one that only adults could look at. He spent too much time detailing your pussy— or what he assumed it looked like— the cum peeking out of your hole with drops of it on the fabric, your expression when he filled your womb, and the obscene sight made the scales under his skin glow brightly.

Rafayel knew from the moment he met you 4 years ago that you were his bride from centuries back. But remembering the catch of keeping his homeland alive forced him into isolation, wanting nothing romantic to do with you— to keep you at arms length. He didn’t want that incident to happen again, nor did he want his people suffering.

And it would’ve worked, had his creature instincts, of wanting to repopulate his homeland, NOT gotten in the way, and practically make it impossible to be away from you. While he did try to stay nearby more often, he found that you were being avoidant, and he didn’t know why.

“Miss bodyguarrrrrd, come see meee!”

“Miss bodyguard, you’re always so busy! Is this how you treat your clients?!”

“Miss bodyguard, give me attention, now!”

You became annoyed by Rafayel always blowing up your phone, and your boyfriend wasn’t taking a liking to it either.

“Why is he always texting and calling you?” He asked one evening.

“It’s just my job as his bodyguard. He gets needy and wants attention sometimes.” You shrug it off, scrolling through the movies on the TV.

“Does he not know that you have a boyfriend?” That’s when you froze.

No, Rafayel didn’t know you were in a relationship. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. The thought of saying so brought a feeling of unease to you, and you kept the truth a secret.

“Yeah, but he’s just… annoying kind of…” you rub the back of your neck. “But the pays good so…”

Your boyfriend didn’t push further, and just snuggled you close to him as you both watched the movie.

~

It’d been a week since you didn’t read any of Rafayel’s texts or answer his calls, and he was fuming. Usually, he’s the one to do that— not to you, never to you— but being on the receiving end of his typical behavior— and it coming from you— was getting to him, fast. He stares at the blank canvas, having replaced the old, used one with a fresh new one.

He kept… painting things he hadn’t seen before. Scenarios that a paranoid boyfriend would make up if his girlfriend went out in without him, and something told him to go check on you. He left the house around 2:32 PM, and headed to the beach. He watches the seagulls flying around, fighting over food and trash, sees a couple of people running around or running into the water.

He was searching for you in these people.

He looked over at the water and felt that pull.

Two people were hugged up, and chatting well inside the water, and as he looked closer, is intuition was right.

It was you, and some lousy human he assumes is your boyfriend. Funny, he should be calling himself that, not some lame mortal.

He steps closer to the shore, and stares at you two, watching you laugh as the guy kisses your shoulder snd neck. His fists slowly clench, and before he knows it, he’s walking into the water. He gets far enough before diving under and transforming into his 10 ft tall deity form, feeling his emotions clash with the body of liquid and weather. He hears the thunder muffle underwater, and feels the shift as rain randomly pours down.

Rafayel sees you two swimming back to the shore, and quickly moves closer, grabbing your lover’s ankle and pulling him underwater. You don’t hear the attack as the sound of rain and the water swirl together, drowning out the sound of your partner’s voice. You get onto the shore and rush under an umbrella nuzzled in the sand, and turn around, only to see your spouse missing.

“Max?” You yell out, looking around for him.

Rafayel swam away from the gruesome scene, after sharks and other predators surrounded the human, who was now their snack. The sound of the creatures fighting each other for it fades away the closer he gets to the shore. You walk toward the water, calling out for your lover, but still don’t see him. A part of you feels worried, and you move to go back in, but a hand grabs your wrist, causing you to quickly turn.

“Cutie? What are you doing out here? You’re gonna get sick!” He pulls you away from the water, going back to his place.

You panic but let him take you, still looking behind for your partner; the distance between you and his disintegrating corpse rapidly grows at the speed Rafayel’s walking in.

~

You sit on the couch with an oversized towel over your back and a cup of hot tea on the coffee table. Rafayel steps into the living room with a pair of pants on and a towel on his head from having gotten out the shower.

“Why don’t you go shower? You’ll get sick if you stay like that, cutie,” he smiles a bit, taking a seat next to you.

“I should get going. I have work to do,” you stand up to leave but his words stop you.

“Work? But Jenna said you’re off the next three days.”

You slowly turn and look at him. “You spoke with my boss?”

“I’ve been looking for you, and you don’t talk to me, so I had to start somewhere.” He puts his hands on his hips.

You stare at him for a moment then turn to leave but he’s quicker and darts in front of you, stopping you from leaving.

“What’s gotten into you?! You’ve been acting really weird lately, and it’s getting annoying, Rafayel.” You cross your arms.

“I’m acting weird? You’re the one avoiding me! You didn’t even tell me you had a boyfriend!” You gawk.

“Why should I have to tell you that?! It’s none of your business, ANYWAY!!” You shift your weight into your left leg.

“It’s my business when my bride is getting cozy with some pesty mortal! … It’s my business when my Queen is getting frisky when some guy that isn’t me!”

“What the FUCK are you talking about?! We’re not even together, Rafayel!!”

“Because you didn’t give me a chance!!”

“Why would I give you a chance when you’re so in your head?! What made you think I’d EVER give someone like you a chance?!” You scream. “I’m just your bodyguard, nothing else!! So why does it MATTER?”

He stands there, feeling that power course through him once more. His eyes close and he steps towards you. “It matters because you’re mine. You’ve been mine for over 8 centuries, and counting. The Fates have already written ours, so why bother trying to change it?”

You glare at his glowing eyes, then look away. “I knew something was off about you… I just couldn’t figure out what…”

“That’s why you hid having a boyfriend from me?” He quietly hisses.

“You didn’t need him anyway,” he gets closer, “you have me. I’m the only one you need, pearl… just like you’re the only one I need.”

You shake your head and move to leave but he grabs you and holds you close. “Let go of me, Rafayel!”

“Not until you feel it… feel the connection our souls have to each other… you never needed him or anyone. Only me…” his voice softens; it echoes with soundwaves that flow to your ear and make you feel woozy.

You pant and shake your head, covering your ears, but it’s no use.

“You can’t escape. Your place is here, by my side.” His hand comes up and grazes your cheek as his voice lures you in.

Like a siren to a sailor.

“Stop… d-doing that,” you hisses, pushing him away and trying to leave.

He barely opens his mouth as a high frequency sound flows from it, striking your eardrum and making you clutch your head in pain.

“You belong here.”

No…

“This is your home now, my bride~” his words echo in your mind.

“You’ll learn your place soon enough.” He comes around you and lift your head by your chin.

He forces you to stare in his eyes, and you feel yourself being put into a box.

“You just… need a little… push.”

~

Your clothes were misplaced on the ground with tears and holes all throughout them. The oh-so-merciful Sea God gave you another chance to do the right thing, and now you rested on your knees. Sucking his two lengths.

“Mmmm, just like that, my treasure…” he hums lowly, stroking your disheveled hair.

The light makeup you wore was now messed u on your pretty face, giving the impression of a crying and distressed woman.

You look so beautiful in his eyes.

He wants to paint this sight— you on your knees sucking his cocks like you were meant to.

Tears, from straining your throat, trickled down your cheeks and dripped onto your bare tits, along with the saliva-cum mixture bubbling up from the sides of your mouth.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it, my pearl? They’re all yours to enjoy for eternities to cum.” He giggled quietly, watching you worship his mythical dicks.

Their angled and flat tip rested on your tongue one at a time as you switched between sucking them off. He sighs happily, and tilts his head back, tightening his grip on the back of your head.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat now. Be a good girl, and take your Sea God’s seed.” His voice rumbles, and brings that ache in your pussy to the surface.

Both his hands hold your head and move it up and down his shaft. You whine and gargle the thick, top cock, rolling your eyes back as it’s tip his the back of your throat. He moans loudly, and you look up to see scales shimmering brightly under his skin.

“Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum. Swallow every drop when I say to!” He thrusts faster, moving your head at the same time.

Your hands hang at your side as he used your mouth for his own pleasure, before he stops. His hot seed burns your mouth, too much filling the small, warm hole and shooting up your nose. Your nose nuzzles in his neatly trimmed pubes as the white essence leaks out, and he slowly pushes your head back, admiring his thick dick inside your mouth.

“You’re so perfect… I really am blessed to be in your existence, my sweet gem.” He whispers adoringly, pulling out completely.

Your mouth and eyes close, and he taps your cheek. “Show me.”

You open your eyes and look up at him, slowly opening your mouth and revealing it full of his nut.

“Fuck…” is all he says as he stares.

Your eyes water and let the last bit of tears slide down your cheeks as he says, “swallow.”

You close your mouth and carefully gulp down the large, salty load, shivering at the taste and texture. He pets your head then pushes you face down onto the ground.

“Good girls get rewarded, don’t they, honey?” He whispers condescendingly, rubbing in between your slick folds.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You tremble when he thumbs your clit.

“My fingers slide in so easily… you got wet just sucking off your God, didn’t you, cutie?” He chuckles.

You whine and cry, and he pulls his fingers out, replacing them with his upper dick. You both sigh, as he stretches you out and mounts you like a dog.

“This is where I belong. Deep inside you, reviving the motherland.” He kisses your back, then pulls out halfway before slamming back in.

He pushes hard until his tip presses against your cervix, and the sensation makes you squirt.

“Goood girl. Make a mess on me and my floors. Show me you know your place.” He growls, as his balls slam against your clit.

You become a moaning mess for him, and he arches your back by gripping the back of your head and pulling it back. You’re forced to look up as he looks down at your face.

“I’ll make you worship these cocks until they’re the only thing on your mind.” He presses the side of your face against the side of the couch, giving you the view behind you.

“I’ll make you whine and cry for me to never leave you… just like I did when you died back then…” he hits that spot deep inside you just right every time

“I’ll make you love me forever.”

If only you had known back then, that taking this ‘job’ as a bodyguard would result you in your freedom and sanity being taken.

Xavier

You sat on the grass staring up the stars. The heat calmed significantly during the night, and the prickly grass felt good, for once, against the bare skin of your arms and thighs. You found this hill while hiking one day and saved the location as a spot you go to when you wanted to get away from the responsibilities of an adult.

Your sweet friend and neighbor, Xavier, had been blowing up your phone, wondering where you went and why you weren’t answering, for the last 3 hours. You ended up turning the device off, but you didn’t know that only upsetted him.

You see, when spending time with an animal for so long, they grow attached. They get clingy, and can develop separation anxiety, so you can assume that happened with Xavier.

The man had the behavior and traits of a bunny, but one thing for sure was that you had a hard time saying no to him. Maybe it was because he could give you that look any cute animal could give when they did something bad. But with Xavier, he’s done many things as your friend and neighbor, you let it slide every time, until now.

You realize that it wasn’t a good thing to withdraw accountability from him. He was a grown man after all, and thinking “no! Xavier would never kill someone just because!” was the worse thing you could do. You found out your ex-crush went missing, and was found dead, shortly after the two of you ran into the bunnyman. You hadn’t notice, at the time, that Xavier was acting weird whenever you brought the guy around, and a part of you still blamed yourself for his death. You found out later that Xavier was the one who killed him, using his light evol— he manifest a celestial spike and stabbed it into his heart. He claimed it was self-defense, the camera footsge painted it as such, so you had no choice to believe him. But his behavior following then had gotten stranger too.

There was CCTV footage in an alley he dragged your crush into, and you only found that footage during an investigation regarding smuggled Protocores. Of course, you were the only that knew it was Xavier from a few tiny details, but when the Association and police saw it, they couldn’t figure out who the perpetrator was, let alone did they care.

You watch as a shooting star passes by and you close your eyes, concentrating to make a wish. The sound of crickets chirping and trees swaying with the light breeze flowing over you brought peace and tranquility for a while until you heard footsteps. You turned and looked but didn’t see anything or anyone. Once you felt calmed, you turned back around, only to find Xavier sitting next to you, inches away from your face.

“FUCK! What the hell, Xavier?!” You screech, putting your hand on your chest.

“I’m sorry. I kept texting and calling you, but you weren’t answering,” his soft voice flutters your heart before you snap out of his trance.

“Mm mm, nope! How did you find this place? How did you even know I was here?!” You cross your arms.

“My light has a way of finding certain footprints, even with shoes.” His long ears sway a bit and he softly smiles. “I missed you.”

“Xavier, this was supposed to be alone time for me. We’re always together, you know?”

He pouts, and looks at you confused. “Why would you want to be alone? Why is it so bad that we’re always together?”

“Because we both live different lives and have different wants and needs. Sometimes, I don’t want to sleep all day or bed rot.” You sigh.

“Then we can do other things. As long as we’re together.” He says casually.

“Xavier, I don’t always want to be around people. I like my alone time.”

“But being alone means I’m not with you. Don’t you care about me?” He whispers, his eyes dilating.

“Xavier—” you’re cut off by a ball of white clouding your sight.

He lays his head on top of your chest, and wraps his arms around you. “This is nice. Xavier likes this very much.”

“Xavier, get off. It’s too hot to be hugging up on me snd shit,” you quietly hiss, trying to push him off.

You both end up falling back onto the grass, and he climbs on top of you. Your eyes widen and your hands rest next to your head.

“What are you—” his hands crawl up your stomsch and cup your underbust.

“Do you know how hard it is to act fine when you’re not around? … It’s like… I can’t exist without you, I can’t live without you…”

“What are you talking about, Xavier? Get off.” You try to push him off but he’s quick to grip your wrists under one hand.

“One part of me knows you need your space; knows that I can’t keep you to myself like I want to… but the other part tells me to keep you to myself… to never leave your side no matter what…” he whispers.

“Xavier…” you look up at him conflicted.

“You know I love you so much, right? I love you like the stars do to the night sky… you’re too precious for me to just let go of.” He leans down and you turn your head.

“I-I didn’t know you felt that way… but please get off.” He looks down at your rising chest, watching the covered mounds lower then rise again.

“Would you let me…?” Your eyes shift to his.

“Let you what…?”

“Suck them, love them… worship them?” He nuzzles his face in your cleavage and your head falls back on the grass.

“X-Xavier, please! This isn’t… ideal!” You squirm under him.

“What do you mean “not ideal”? I love you, why can’t you love me?” He pouts, looking like he’ll start crying.

“I-I haven’t moved on from what you did to Anthony…” a shift happens behind his eyes, and he stares up at you, barely.

“Why are you still holding onto him? He was weak. He didn’t deserve you. But I’m here.” His hand cup your face.

“I’ll take care of you and love you like you deserve… worship this gorgeous body like the temple it is… make you my moon Goddess.” He rests his forehead against you.

“I can’t keep fighting this… I need you.” Is the last thing he says before diving down and kissing you.

Your eyes widen and fists clench, pressing on his chest yo push him back. He cages you underneath him, and continues devouring your sweet lips, feeling his pants tighten.

“Oh, Star…” he whimpers quietly, but yelps when you bite his lip.

He pulls back slowly, letting the pain simmer. “You like biting, huh, Starlight?”

He unbuttons his sweater and peels it off, while you watch with anticipation and excitement—

Wait what?

He hums as his hand lean down mess with your top. “No one will see us… I made sure of that.”

You stare up at your friend, your neighbor, and realize now that the prey he once was, turned into the predator, but maybe he had been that all along.

~

You lay on your back as Xavier crushes you beneath him. His dick slides in and out so easily from all the clear liquid you squirted on him, making the traction of his length between your walls create a loud, squelching noise. Your tits jiggle with every push, and he leans down to grip them, sucking and biting the pebbles in their centers.

“X-Xavier…” is all you can whine, clenching your toes tightly and biting your lip.

The moonlight shined on the two of you, exposing the obscene sight to any curious animals. You whimper in sync with each kiss his tip gives your cervix, and cry at the overwhelming pleasure.

“See? Now you know what I’m capable of. Now you know how good you can feel every. single. day.” His hands grasp the tops of your feet, keeping them against the sides of his head.

His ass slams onto yours once last time then he rolls his hips, grinding the stickiness into your womb for a third time. You both roll your eyes back, and you hug him tightly.

“You’re doing well… taking my seed, helping recreate Philos… ugh gods…” his head falls back as he keeps grinding into you.

You squirt on him, and he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

“Keep going, Star. Keep feeling good. You deserve to feel this… only by me.” He whispers, kissing your lips once more, tasting the blood from earlier.

He rests his forehead against yours again, and stares at your closed eyes, having nothing, but love and adoration for his Queen.

You and Rafayel shared most, and they weren’t quite vanilla, either. Ropes, wax, blindfolds—these were what you would call a usual round of daily sex with Rafayel. You tried plenty of spaces too, because he was adamant to take you on every piece of furniture he owned.

But he never stopped at those, either. It was his mansion, the beach, his cars. Even when attending events with him, he would find a way to cheekily sweep you away in a restroom or a secluded corner and turn your legs to jelly, make your makeup run down your face, and your mouth hang open in soft moans you tried to keep at bay in fear of being overheard. He was very amused watching you try.

So why would you think of more? You were beyond satisfied with how things were going for you two, so your curiosity was satiated enough.

Or so you thought. Because curiosity is a dangerous feeling to have, and your curiosity about your boyfriend in other aspects of his life was still burning bright. Now it just shifted perspective.

It started, as most dangerous things do, with a question you shouldn’t have asked.

You were currently on Rafayel’s couch, legs draped across his lap while he scrolled through something on his phone with one hand and traced absent circles on your ankle with the other. The evening was warm and salt-laced, the way it always was when the tall windows were cracked open to let the breeze curl through the curtains.

You stopped scrolling some minutes ago.

You’d found the forum by accident, really. A thread about marine biology that had spiraled into Lemurian mythology, then into a university lecture someone had transcribed and posted, something about the reproductive biology of deep-sea humanoid species.

The language was academic and dry, full of clinical terms and speculative footnotes, but the content was… well, quite specific. References to diphallia structures in oceanic bipedal species. Egg-laying triggered by environmental and chemical stimulus. Heat cycles distinct from illness or weakness, tied instead to arousal and a biological imperative to reproduce.

Your curiosity was instantly piqued, eyes glued to every word like they held all the answers in the world. It was quite strange how rapidly and tightly the article held your attention, but you supposed it was something every human that came across it would be. Or at least some.

The subject wasn’t really something you could casually ask him about. Rafayel tended to be hard to crack open about certain subjects. It was true he would never keep something important hidden from you, but there were still quite a few things you didn’t get the chance to know about him. Especially things that had to do with his Lemurian nature. More often than not, he would just redirect the subject lightly to something else, or he would occasionally indulge you and tease you with crumbs of information you greedily stored away in the special part of your brain where every little thing you learned about Rafayel went.

You glance up at your boyfriend.

His face was illuminated by the warm light coming from the lamp beside his head, and you couldn’t help but stare a little bit, your mind already trying to piece together information you don’t have. You must look so stupid right now, with your eyes probably a bit wider than before, looking like a deer caught in the headlights at the new information registering in your brain.

He has two. It should not have come as such a big of a surprise, so why were you ogling at your boyfriend from across the couch as if this was brand new information? It shouldn’t have been, and you mentally scolded yourself from being so oblivious to it.

He is not human, so of course his biology would differ from one of humans. That alone sent a subtle shiver down your spine, mind already conjuring up an image you were unfamiliar with.

You turned your head back to your phone, scrolling through the article some more, trying your best not to tense your leg muscles where Rafayel’s fingers were knitting softly at your calf.

The information rushed in with renowned speed, your mind filing it away for later. You didn’t even notice you were biting your lip until Rafayel’s chuckle echoed softly from your right, and you inevitably turned your head towards the sound.

“What’s got you so entranced over there, cutie?” he cooed, and you knew he was amused and intrigued at what went on your screen. “It must be something good ‘cause you’re giving no mercy to your lip. You always do that when something’s got your full attention.” A slow, almost knowing smirk graced his pink lips. “You might draw blood from it if you don’t stop soon.”

You felt your throat work softly as you swallowed, right before giving him an easy smile, closing your phone and putting it face down on the couch.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just came across an interesting book and got a little too curious.”

If you wanted to know more, you had to play your cards right. So, you pulled your legs from his lap before climbing over the soft cushion, hand traveling up his torso before you settled your body on top of his, nuzzling his neck.

“Mmm, you smell good,” you hummed against his skin, pressing a slow kiss to the spot just beneath his jaw, feeling the vibration of his laugh travel through his chest into yours.

“Flattery’s not gonna distract me from the fact that you just hid your phone like you got caught watching something you shouldn’t,” he drawled, fingers already threading into your hair with a laziness that contradicted the sharpness in his voice, tipping your face up to look at him. “C’mon. Spill.”

“I told you, it was a book,” you murmured, holding his gaze and keeping your expression even despite the warmth creeping up the back of your neck, tracing a finger down the collar of his shirt. “Since when are you so interested in my reading habits?”

“Since you started biting through your own lip over them,” he countered without missing a beat, thumb brushing across your bottom lip as if to prove his point, eyes half-lidded and glittering with amusement. “What kind of book makes my girl look like she just discovered fire for the first time?”

“An academic one, actually,” you offered with a shrug, letting your fingers drift lower, walking them down the center of his chest in a slow trail, watching the way his eyes track the movement before flicking back to your face. “About marine biology… Lemurian mythology... Reproductive habits of deep-sea humanoid species and all that stuff.”

The circles on your back stilled.

It was so brief. A fraction of a second where his fingers froze against your spine before they resumed their lazy pattern, and if you weren’t pressed chest-to-chest with him you might have missed it. But you were, so you didn’t.

“Huh,” he breathed, the syllable light and careless but the corner of his mouth twitched in a way that told you he knew you were onto something. Still, would Rafayel still be Rafayel if he didn’t pivot your little questioning? “Sounds boring.”

“It wasn’t,” you countered, resting your chin on his chest and letting your eyes go wide and innocent, the way you know gets under his skin, tilting your head just enough to sell it. “It was actually really... thorough and specific. It even offered some additional readings.”

“Specific how?” his voice dipped into something lower as his hand slid from your hair to the nape of your neck, fingers curling there with a possessiveness that made your throat work around a swallow. It always did when his touches became more intentional.

“Well,” you started, tracing a slow path over his collarbone, keeping your tone light enough to pass for casual but pointed enough that he’ll feel the edge of it. “For example, did you know that certain deep-sea bipedal species have dual reproductive anatomy? Two of everything, apparently.”

You watched his face carefully, looking for some kind of answer there, gauging if he would actually offer you something or pivot again. To your dismay, only his pupils contracted for a split second before they dilated again, just as the flush started at the tips of his ears, faint and pink, before he smothered it under a grin so smug it bordered on insufferable.

“You’re asking me if I knew that,” he repeated, voice dripping with honeyed theatricality that would have been convincing if his thumb wasn’t pressing a little too firmly into the pulse point at your neck, feeling your fast heartbeat. “About deep-sea species. Academically and definitely not because you wanna know all my secrets, yeah?”

“Academically, I promise.” you confirmed, nodding once with a solemnity you absolutely did not feel, and let your fingers drift to the side of his neck, tracing the tendon there with featherlight motions.

“Cutie,” the word rolled off his tongue like warm honey, slow and sweet and entirely a weapon as he tilted his head back against the cushion, watching you from beneath those thick lashes with an expression that was equal parts fondness and warning. “If you wanna know something about me, you could just ask.”

Your heart kicked behind your ribs, hard and fast and almost suffocating. Still, you had to push through.

“Okay, yeah.” you whisper, pressing up on your elbows so your face hovered above his, noses nearly touching. His breath caught against your lips when you closed the distance to something almost dangerous, your voice a slow, innocent purr. “So how does it work? For you, I mean.”

The silence that followed was warm and thick and charged, felt it hum between your bodies like an ocean’s current.

His hand moved from your neck to your jaw, cradling it and tilting your face so the lamplight caught in your eyes. He studied you with something flickering behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite name, because Rafayel had this specific look in his eyes whenever he was debating something. Then his mouth curled very, very slowly into the kind of smile that had ruined you more times than you cared to count.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Miss Bodyguard,” he purred, dragging the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, and you swore you could feel the warmth radiating off his ears from here, betraying every ounce of composure that smile was working so hard to sell.

“Yeah,” you breathed firmly, not backing down, holding his gaze even as your stomach flipped. “I really would.”

You saw in real time, the smugness flickering for a moment into something rawer, something surprised and pleased and a little undone, before he caught it and tucked it back behind that insufferable grin.

“Wow,” he exhaled on a laugh, his fingers trailing from your jaw to your throat, resting there like a dare for you to continue your little innocent act. “My bodyguard’s doing species research on me now? Should I be worried or flattered, cutie?”

“Well, that depends,” you turned your head just enough to press your lips to the inside of his wrist, feeling his pulse jump beneath your mouth. “On how honest your answer is, baby.”

He watched you kiss his wrist with an expression that went briefly, beautifully blank, lips parting on a breath he didn’t quite release, before he let out a huff, dropping his head back against the cushion.

“This is what I get for dating a curious little Hunter,” he announced to the ceiling, but his free hand easily found your hip and pulled you tighter against him, fingers pressing into the curve of your waist. “Reading weird academic forums and then crawling into my lap to interrogate me about my anatomy.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you pointed out, pressing another kiss to his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, punctuating each one like a period at the end of a sentence he can’t escape.

“And I’m not gonna,” he hummed against your lips, catching the last kiss and holding you there, close enough that when he spoke, his mouth brushed yours with every word. “Not tonight, at least. Not because you found some sketchy forum and got all curious and doe-eyed on my couch."

The smile on his face was soft at the corners but sharp in the middle, the kind of smile that held a secret behind its teeth.

“Buuut I’ll tell you this much for free,” he added, voice dropping to something warm and private, fingers tilting your chin up, “Whatever you read in your little article? Doesn’t even come close, baby.”

Then he kissed your forehead, gentle and lingering before he casually reached for his phone again as if he didn’t just set fire to your brain.

You settled back against his chest, heart hammering, and the subject closed. For now. But you could still feel the heat of his skin beneath your cheek, a degree warmer than usual. The way his fingers on your hip were tracing patterns that felt less like absent habit and more like a language you haven’t learned yet.

You were gonna find out what he meant by that.

True to your word, in the next couple weeks since your little chat on his couch, you made it your silent mission to gather as much information about this as you could manage. You went to libraries, bookstores, even deep-dived the internet until you ended up on the most questionable websites.

Each of them pointed you in a specific direction, like a map following a hidden treasure you were sure to find at the end of it.

The mythology was, expectedly, vague. Lemurian texts were rare and fragmented, scattered across old maritime archives and folklore collections that treated the entire civilization like a fairytale rather than the breathing reality you slept next to every night. Most of what you found was speculative at best, contradictory at worst, filtered through centuries of human interpretation that had no business trying to explain a species it barely believed existed.

But there were patterns. Threads that kept weaving through the noise, consistent enough to feel like they meant something.

Heat cycles tied not to seasons or to Ebb Day, but to stimuli. Botanical compounds derived from deep-sea flora that could coax a Lemurian body into a heightened state of arousal, something distinct from regular desire, more primal, more consuming. References to mineral-rich waters activating dormant nerve pathways along the spine and neck, places where scales would bloom first. Specific points of contact that could trigger the shift from human presentation to something closer to what they truly were under the innocent surface.

You sat cross-legged on your bedroom floor one night with your laptop balanced on your knees and three tabs open, cross-referencing a botanist’s field journal from the 1800s with a digitized scroll fragment someone had uploaded to an obscure academic database. Your eyes burned from the screen’s glow and the hour was embarrassingly late, but you couldn’t stop. Every new detail slotted into place with a click you could almost hear, building a picture you had no reference for but wanted desperately to see.

The reality of what you were doing hit you in odd moments. Standing in an apothecary shop downtown, turning a small glass bottle of sea kelp extract over in your fingers, reading the label with such focus that made the shopkeeper eye you with mild concern. Sitting in a university library with a thick, leather-bound volume of oceanic mythology open in your lap, your thumb tracing an illustration of a Lemurian figure half transformed, the artist’s rendering of scales blooming along a throat and chest in patterns that looked like living jewelry.

Your stomach had flipped at that one. Not from discomfort. From want.

You thought about Rafayel’s skin. The way it caught light wrong at times, or right, depending on how you looked at it. A shimmer along his shoulders after a swim that he toweled away too quickly. The faint iridescence at the hollow of his throat on humid nights that you’d attributed to sweat and lamplight but now recognized for what it was.

You’d been sleeping with a Lemurian for months and somehow managed to miss the details that were, quite literally, right beneath your fingertips.

The guilt of that realization was brief but sharp, replaced almost immediately by a curiosity so consuming it bordered on hunger.

Your shopping list grew quietly. Sea mineral bath salts from a brand that sourced high concentrations of magnesium and oceanic elements. A bottle of blue lotus oil that a mythology forum swore was derived from the same deep-water flowers Lemurians used in bonding rituals. Dried saffron and passionflower, referenced in three separate texts as having mild aphrodisiac properties specific to aquatic species. A packet of black volcanic salt that smelled like the ocean floor and cost more than you were comfortable admitting.

You kept everything in a bag tucked in the back of your closet like contraband.

And through all of it, Rafayel acted none the wiser.

He didn’t mention the conversation on the couch again. Didn’t tease you about your late-night reading habits, didn’t raise an eyebrow when you showed up at his studio smelling faintly of essential oils because you’d been testing combinations on your own wrist during your lunch break. He painted, he complained about Thomas, he kissed you hello at his door and pulled you onto his lap with the same ease he always did.

It was almost convincing.

But you knew him. You knew the way he watched you when he thought you were busy with something else and not paying attention to him, the way his gaze lingered for quite a while when you emerged from the bathroom at his place, the way his nose twitched, almost imperceptibly, when you leaned close and the new oils on your skin met the warm air between your bodies.

He knew, you were sure of it. Or at best, he knew intuitively you were up to something. He was one of the few Lemurians you knew, keenly aware of his own biology, and everything you were piecing together from old books and internet rabbit holes, he carried in his blood and bones. Your research was guesswork dressed in academic language. He was the primary source, and he was watching you fumble around the footnotes with such quiet, cat-like satisfaction.

It should have frustrated you. Instead, it lit something competitive in your chest, a stubbornness that tasted sweet at the back of your throat.

Fine. If he wanted to sit back and watch you work for it, you’d give him a show worth watching.

The plan came together on a Thursday evening, while you stood in your bathroom staring at the collection of oils and salts and dried botanicals lined up on your counter like ingredients for a spell. You picked up the blue lotus oil, uncapped it, and the scent hit you in a wave, something sweet and dark and aquatic that made your pulse quicken in a way that felt almost sympathetic, as if your body already understood what this was for even if your mind was still catching up.

You thought about his bathtub. That ridiculous, beautiful, oversized thing in his bathroom, the one he claimed was essential for his creative process but mostly used to soak for hours after painting all day, water lapping at the edges while he hummed old melodies you didn’t recognize but were very curious about. You’d shared it with him before, your back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head, his fingers making lazy trails through the warm water and occasionally up your arms just to feel you shiver.

The bathtub was the key. Warm water, enclosed space, the minerals and botanicals dissolved into something he’d absorb through every inch of his skin. And you, close enough to touch, to watch, to press your fingers into the places your research told you would matter most.

You packed the bag carefully that weekend. Rolled the glass bottles in a soft cloth so they wouldn’t clink together, tucked the salts into a pouch, layered everything under a change of clothes and a bottle of wine so it looked like you were just coming over for the night.

Which you were. You were just also coming over with an agenda.

The drive to Whitesand Bay was shorter than usual, or maybe it was your own excitement making you drive faster to finally see him and spend some time together. You were swarmed with Wanderer missions upon missions in the past week, so you barely had time to meet in person. Of course, that didn’t stop Rafayel from whining through text and facetime.

He opened the door before you even knocked.

“Took you long enough, cutieee,” he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his bottom lip jutting out in a pout so practiced it should have lost its effect on you months ago, but it hadn’t, and he knew it. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? I almost withered from being denied my cutie’s presence.”

“Rafayel, we saw each other on Tuesday,” you reminded him, but you were already smiling yourself, already stepping into his space and pressing up on your toes to kiss the pout off his mouth. He melted into it immediately, arms unfolding to wrap around your waist and pull you inside in one fluid motion, the door swinging shut behind you with a nudge of his foot.

“Tuesday was forever ago!” he whined softly against your lips, punctuating it with another kiss, then another, short and warm and a little bit greedy, his fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your jacket to find the warmth of your lower back. “I counted the hours. Almost called Thomas to complain about you, which I’m sure he wouldn’t have appreciated.”

“About me?” you laughed, pulling back just enough to look at him. The sight of him this close made your chest do something soft and involuntary. His hair was slightly damp, curling at the ends the way it did after a shower, and he was wearing a loose linen shirt that hung open at the collar, exposing the line of his throat and the beauty marks scattered there like a constellation you’d memorized with your mouth plenty of times before and were still greedy to do it a thousand times more.

“About you,” he confirmed, taking your bag from your shoulder and setting it down without looking, his eyes never leaving your face, thumb stroking along the curve of your waist. “For being cruel. For having a job that demanded all of your attention. For not living here permanently so I can look at you whenever I want.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you scoffed at his exaggerated pout, cupping his face in both hands, watching as his eyes fluttered shut when your thumbs traced along his cheekbones, tilting into your touch with a contentedness that made him look younger, softer and pliant for you to do whatever you wished.

“Mm. Ridiculously in love with you, maybe,” the words were casual and airy, but his hands tightened at your waist possessively, pulling you flush against him like he needed to verify you were actually there, solid and warm and his for the entire evening, finally. He thrived on physical touches, so you knew there was no chance for you to not be within his grasp at all times tonight. Not that you wanted to, anyway.

You spent the first hour the way you often did on nights like these, tangled up in each other on the makeshift nest of blankets he’d spread in front of the fireplace; the kind of setup he always pretended was spontaneous but clearly carefully arranged before you arrived. The wine was good, and you shared it between lazy kisses that tasted like dark fruit and warmth.

You sat sideways in his lap with your legs draped over his thigh, one arm looped around his neck while the other held your glass. One of his hands was on your knee, stroking the bare skin there with a thumb that moved in slow, hypnotic circles, and that made the hair at the base of your neck stand up in a pleasant sensation. The fire crackled low and amber beside you, casting everything in shades of gold, and when you turned your head to say something about the wine his mouth was already there, catching yours in a kiss that was deeper than the last one, slower, the kind that made you forget what you’d been about to say.

The second glass made him handsy. The third made him aroused.

His cheeks had gone rosy, the way they always did when he drank, a flush that spread from the bridge of his nose to the tops of his ears and made his eyes look impossibly warm, half-lidded and glittering in the firelight. He abandoned any pretense of subtlety, pressing his face into the curve of your neck and leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat, each one wetter than the last, his breath hot against your skin and his lashes tickling your jaw.

“You’re so warm,” he mumbled into your pulse point, voice had gone syrupy from the wine, vowels stretching and consonants softening into something almost melodic. “S’not fair. You always feel so good, wanna keep you in my arms forever.”

You giggled, tipping your head to give him better access despite yourself, fingers threading through the damp curls at the back of his head to guide him closer. He made a low, satisfied sound against your skin that vibrated through you, before his hand slid up from your knee to your thigh with confidence, purposely keeping his touch light, knowing it’ll make you crazy, make you meet him halfway.

The heat between you climbed the way it always did, in increments you barely noticed until the air felt heavy and your breathing had gone shallow and his mouth had migrated from your neck to your collarbone, tongue tracing the dip between the bones in a way that made your fingers tighten in his hair as pleasure surged through you, slow and warm.

“Raf,” you breathed, prompting a hum against your skin in response, a sound that loosely translated to I’m listening but mostly meant I’m busy. You laughed softly, tugging his head up so you could see his face. The sight of him, flushed and wine-soft and looking at you like you’d invented color, made your heart stutter. “You’re warm too. We should cool down.”

His brow furrowed in faint protest.

“Why would we do that when this is so much better,” he countered, chasing your mouth with his, and you let him catch it for a moment before pulling back with a grin.

“Let’s take a bath,” you suggested, smoothing his hair back from his forehead, watching the idea land behind his eyes, the slight narrowing of his eyebrows followed by the slow curl of a smirk that he couldn’t quite suppress even through the haze of the wine.

“A bath,” he echoed, voice dropping a register as his gaze dragged down your body and back up again with a hunger that made your toes curl. “Together. To cool down.”

“Mm-hm.

“Sure, cutie,” the smirk plastering his kiss-bitten lips widened into something knowing and warm as he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Whatever you say.”

He let you go with visible reluctance, fingers trailing along your arm as you climbed out of his lap. You felt his gaze on your back as you grabbed your bag from the entryway and disappeared into the bathroom.

The room was already warm from the steam of what you assumed was his previous bath, which he must have had hours before your arrival, yet the haze still lingered. You set your bag on the counter before turning the tap, letting hot water pour into the oversized marble tub. The sound of it filled the space like white noise, covering the small clinks of glass as you worked.

You pulled the cloth bundle from your bag first, unrolling it with careful fingers. The blue lotus oil went in while the water was still running, a few drops that dissolved into the stream and released a scent so sweet and dark it made the air feel thicker. The sea mineral salts followed, a generous handful that fizzed and shimmered as they hit the surface, turning the water faintly opalescent. You tucked the passionflower and saffron into the pour from the tap, letting the heat steep them like tea, their fragrance layering beneath the lotus into something heady and oceanic.

The black volcanic salt went last. You poured it from the pouch and it sank through the water in dark ribbons before dissolving, and for a moment the entire bath looked like liquid midnight before the minerals diffused into something softer, an iridescent, pearl-like sheen that caught the bathroom light and scattered it in ways that reminded you, with a sharp pull behind your ribs, of his skin.

You rolled the empty bottles back into the cloth and tucked them into the bottom of your bag beneath your clothes, then added a capful of the unscented bubble bath he kept on the shelf, enough to disguise the color and cover the surface with a thin layer of foam.

Rafayel appeared in the doorway just as you straightened up, shoulder leaning against the frame, shirt already unbuttoned and hanging loose on his frame. The flush from the wine was still painted across his cheeks, and his eyes were heavy-lidded as they tracked you with a warmth that made your breath catch.

“Smells good,” he noted, tipping his head back slightly and breathing in. You watched keenly as something in his expression shifted, subtle and fleeting, his nostrils flaring just barely before the lazy smile returned. He crossed the bathroom in two strides and pressed himself against your back, arms winding around your waist, chin hooking over your shoulder. His lips found the nape of your neck as he left a slow, damp kiss there that made you shiver.

“New bath salts?” he asked against your skin, voice casual and curious, muffled by the fact that he was already trailing another kiss below your ear, then another along the side of your throat, his hands splaying warm and wide across your stomach

“Picked up a few things,” you managed through a shaky breath, tilting your head as his mouth found a spot that made your knees soften. His smile pressed into your skin, smug and fond and a little drunk.

“Mm. Spoiling me,” he murmured, swaying you both gently while the water continued to run behind you, filling the tub.

You turned in his arms and kissed him, slow and intentional, hands sliding beneath the open panels of his shirt to settle against the warm skin of his waist. Your thumbs pressed into the muscle there, kneading in small, firm circles which had his mouth faltering against yours as a low, throaty moan spilled from his chest into your mouth, his hips pressing forward into you on instinct.

“That’s cheating,” he tutted between kisses, but he didn’t stop you, didn’t pull back, just kissed you deeper as his fingers found the hem of your top and dragged it upward with a slowness that felt punishing, knuckles grazing your ribs, your stomach, the underside of your breasts, each inch of exposed skin met with a brush of his fingertips that made you gasp softly against his mouth.

The top came off and his hands were already on your bare waist, pulling you closer, making the kiss turn harder, wetter, his teeth catching your bottom lip in a way that pulled a keen from somewhere low in your throat. He swallowed the sound with a hum of satisfaction, tongue soothing the place he’d bitten while his fingers worked at the clasp behind your back with such ease that would have been annoying if it didn’t make your thighs clench together.

You pushed his shirt off his shoulders in return, palms dragging down the planes of his arms, the fabric pooled at his elbows before he shook it off impatiently, mouth never leaving yours. His skin was hot beneath your hands, hotter than usual, and when you pressed your thumbs into the divots of his hips above his waistband he groaned breathily, the sound vibrating through your joined mouths and settling in the pit of your stomach like something molten.

The rest of your clothes came off in pieces, traded between kisses that grew deeper and more breathless with each layer that fell to the tile. His fingers hooked into your waistband and dragged down with a patience that contradicted the hunger in his mouth, trailing fire down your thighs, your calves, thumbs pressing into your ankles as he knelt to pull the fabric free. You tugged at the drawstring of his pants as he stood to let them fall, and for a moment you both stood there in the warm, fragrant air of the bathroom, bare and flushed, breathing each other in.

His eyes were hazy. The wine sat heavy and pretty in the flush across his cheekbones, and the steam curling up from the bath behind you had dampened his hair at the temples, the purple curls darkening and clinging to his skin. His brows were furrowed faintly, a soft crease between them that you’d learned to read as the space between confused and overwhelmed, but before he could examine it too closely you stepped into him, cupped the back of his neck, and pressed your mouth to the side of his throat.

He melted.

A shudder rolled through his entire body, his head tipping back to give you room. You kissed a slow, wet line from the hinge of his jaw to the hollow beneath his ear, letting your breath fan across the sensitive skin as you marked the pretty skin with your love bites. His hands found your hips and gripped, fingers pressing crescents into the flesh, soft needy moans spilling from his lips that had your clit throbbing in need.

You guided him backward. One step, then another, your mouth still working at his neck until his calves hit the edge of the tub and he took the cue, sinking into the water with a hiss that was half relief and half pain from the difference in temperature. You followed, settling between his legs with your back against his chest. The water was warm and fragrant, the minerals and oils you’d dissolved into it lapping at your skin with every small movement.

His arms wrapped around you immediately, pulling you flush against him, having you feel every line of his body pressed to yours, the rise and fall of his chest against your back, the firm warmth of his cock already half-hard and nestled against the curve of your ass exciting you. You tilted your head back against his shoulder and turned, half-twisting so your hand could travel up the wet plane of his chest, fingers tracing the dip of his sternum and the line of his collarbone, before threading into the damp hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

He groaned into your mouth, a sound so low it was nearly subterranean. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging gently before releasing it to press a trail of slow open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. When you reached his ear, you closed your teeth around the lobe and bit down softly. A breathy, broken whimper that cracked in the middle was the delicious response, his hips jerking up against you while his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs beneath the water with a grip that made you moan.

He was getting harder. You could feel him, pressed tight and insistent between your bodies, twitching every time your mouth found a new spot on his neck, every time your fingers dragged through the wet hair curling at his nape. And beneath the haze of the wine and the breathlessness, something else was settling into him, something slower and much different than his usual aroused self, that you could feel in the way his breathing changed, the way his chest expanded and held before releasing in shaking exhales that stirred the hair at your temple.

The oils were working.

You felt the way his body transformed in real time. The way his grip went from firm to bruising, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to make you gasp, then harder still, pulling you back against him so there was no space left between your bodies. His hips had started to move, subtle at first, then less so, rocking up against you in slow, shameless rolls that dragged the length of him along the cleft of your ass and made your breath hitch on every upstroke.

“Mmh shit, baby,” it came out shakier than you intended, because his mouth had found the junction of your neck and shoulder where you were extra sensitive and he was sucking a mark there that made your vision blur and would probably last for days.

He was panting much harsher now. Different from the lazy, wine-warmed breathing from before. It was more ragged, and when you moved in his lap to turn and look at him, the sight of him stole the little air you had left right from your lungs.

His eyes were dark. Not the warm, half-lidded drowsiness of a few minutes ago but something consuming, pupils blown so wide the pink and blue of his irises were reduced to thin, iridescent rings. The flush had deepened too, spreading from his cheeks down his neck, and his lips were swollen and parted, each breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls that made his chest heave against your back.

“What did you put in this water?” his voice was a rough rasp, way different and a bit unrecognizable, but the smirk that followed was pure Rafayel, slow and dangerous and dripping with a smugness that had no business being there when his hands were trembling against your skin. “Because whatever it is, cutie... it’s doing something to me.”

You turned in his lap fully, facing him now as your knees bracketed his hips, the motion pressed you together in a way that made you both groan in pleasure. His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, gripping with a roughness that sent heat flooding through your pussy, making your clit pulse harder, begging for some attention. You watched his jaw tighten as he fought to keep the composure his voice was pretending to have.

“I might have done some shopping,” you cooed, tracing a finger along the wet line of his jaw, followed by a smile so sweet it was enough to rot teeth.

“Shopping,” he scoffed, eyes narrowing, dark and glittering, as his hands traveled upwards from your hips, dragging slow and heavy over the curve of your waist, the dip of your ribs, until his palms settled over your breasts and squeezed with a pressure that pulled a sharp gasp from your throat. “Wanna be more specific, princess?”

“Aphrodisiacs,” you moaned, arching into his palms and seeking more of him, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to keep yourself steady. “Lemurian ones, specifically. From every mythology text I could get my hands on.”

His thumbs found your nipples and rolled, slow and punishing, and the moan that tore from you made his cock twitch hard against your thigh.

“Sneaky little thing,” he groaned, low and approving while his mouth found the curve of your neck and sealed over a spot that made your vision swim. “Drugging your boyfriend in his own bathtub with shady things you find on the internet. That’s bold, even for you.”

“You would’ve never told me yourself,” you countered breathless, tugging at the wet curls at his nape, and his teeth scraped your throat in response, a warning that made your hips buck.

“Tell you what, exactly?” he cooed against the bruise he was sucking into your skin, one hand sliding from your breast down through the water, fingers trailing fire over your stomach, lower, lower, until they settled between your thighs and pressed against your clit in slow, devastating circles. “What did all that research tell you, hm? I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth.”

Your head fell forward against his shoulder, a whimper catching in your throat as his fingers worked you in lazy, practiced strokes that had your pussy clenching in need of attention, which was why he was silently punishing you by keeping his touch extra light.

“It said,” you started confidently but the words fractured as his thumb pressed harder, your nails biting into his shoulders. “It said that... nghh, t-that you have two cocks? And it made me curious because you’ve never…”

The circles stopped when you trailed off. His hand stilled between your thighs, and you felt him inhale, sharp and deep, his chest expanding against yours. The silence held for one charged, breathless second before his exhale came out shaking, hot against the wet skin of your neck.

“Never what?” he rasped, and when you lifted your head to look at him his expression made your stomach drop. His eyes were blown black, the thin rings of pink and blue around his pupils shimmering like oil on water, and his lips were parted and swollen, each breath coming in shallow pulls that moved his whole chest.

The flush had spread from his cheeks down his throat and across his collarbones, and beneath the waterline you felt him throb against your thigh, hard and insistent and clearly he was imagining bending you over the tub and taking you hard and raw.

“Never shown me,” you whispered, cupping his face as your thumbs traced the sharp line of his jaw tenderly, holding his gaze even though the intensity of it made your pulse roar. “You’ve never let me see all of you. The real you, I mean. It didn’t bother me at first, but I can’t deny I’m not curious now…”

Rafayel’s intense gaze had you faltering for a splitting second, something cracking open behind his hazy stare. A flicker of rawness, surprised and hungry, that he smothered under a grin so filthy it made heat pool low in your belly fast as lightning, had you dripping on his thigh underwater.

“You want both of them, cutie? Real question is, can you handle both?” his voice had dropped into something so sinful it had your eyes roll back at the mere thought of being stuffed so full by not one, but two of his cocks.

On the good days, you took him like a champ, greedily swallowing him inside your warmth, demanding more and more as he gave into your every demand. On other occasions, he had you whining and begging for mercy, pounding you into the surface he laid you on and controled your pleasure like a puppet master.

A low purr vibrated against your sternum as his fingers resumed between your legs, pushing inside you with a slowness that made your mouth fall open and a sinful moan spill from it, obscene and loud in the tiled room. “Wanna see with your own eyes what your boyfriend’s really packing? All you had to do was ask, beautiful.”

“I’m asking now,” you managed breathlessly through a whimper, clenching tightly around his fingers and rolling your hips into his hand. The friction pulled a groan from him that sounded like it was dragged from somewhere deep and involuntary, which made you squeeze your eyes shut and grind harder. “Won’t you show me, baby?”

His forehead dropped against yours, and you felt the breath leave him in a shudder, his jaw working like he was swallowing something too big for his throat. His fingers curled inside you, pressing against his favorite spot, the one he loved to bully, the one that had your spine arching and a cry tearing from your lips, all while he watched your face come apart with an overwhelmed expression.

“I don’t think you have any idea what you do to me when you talk like that,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your jaw rather harshly and tilting your face so his mouth hovered over yours, close enough that you breathed each other’s air. “Sitting in my lap, taking my fingers so good, asking to see my cocks like you’re ordering dessert. Are you that greedy to be fucked senseless over this bathtub, huh?”

“Nghh—fuck, oh fuck,” you whimpered, because his thumb had found your clit again and was circling it in tandem with the fingers inside you. The euphoric sensation was making it hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to do anything except hold on and shake like a leaf.

“What else?” he demanded, pulling his fingers out slowly, dragging them through your soaked folds until you were trembling and empty and whining at the loss. His hands gripped your hips, lifting and repositioning you against him so the hard length of his cock pressed directly between your folds. His hips rolled up, coating himself in your slickness causing a groan to rumble through both your bodies. “Tell me what else those books said. C’mon, I wanna know what my girl’s been studying about me.”

“Eggs,” you gasped, cheeks burning in embarrassment but you held his gaze, fingers fisting in his hair. “The texts said... during the heat, with the right partner, you’d...”

His hips stuttered, bucking the tip of his cock against your clit, his eyes going wide for a fraction of a second before they narrowed into something so dark and possessive it made your breath stop.

“Yeah?” he rasped, the word coming out guttural and raw, his grip on your hips tightening until you could feel each finger like a brand. He pulled you down against him, grinding his cock against you with a deliberateness that made you cry out, your hands scrabbling at his chest. “They told you about that too, huh?”

“Told me enough to be curious,” you whispered, biting your lip and rolling your hips into his, matching his rhythm, and the sound he made was barely human, a choked groan that broke in the middle and left his mouth hanging open.

“Curious,” he echoed, and the laugh that followed was breathless and dark, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as his hips snapped up harder, rougher, chasing friction that made you both moan. “My bodyguard read some old books and now she’s curious about taking my eggs. You’re something else, you know that?”

He lifted his head, and the look in his eyes was ravenous, all teeth and heat and a hunger so consuming it made the air feel thin. His hand came up to wrap around your throat, gentle but present, thumb resting against your pulse, and pulled you close until his lips brushed yours with every word.

“Lemme tell you something those books didn’t cover, princess,” he murmured, his voice silk wrapped around a knife’s edge, low and intimate and dripping with a promise that made your thighs clench. “When it happens, and it’s gonna happen tonight because you went and started something you can’t stop... it’s not gonna be gentle. It’s gonna be a lot, and you’ll cry and beg me in that sweet voice to either stop or give you more. Oh, but you’re gonna take all of it for me, aren’t you?”

Your breath left you in a rush, your pulse hammering against his thumb. You enjoyed rough sex with Rafayel, having him leave bruises on your skin that would last for days after your heated love-making was something you looked forward too, knowing he could break you like that any time he desired. But you suspected this was much more different than your usual dynamic, something more primal and animalistic. Something you went ahead and awaken in him with all this stuff you prepared, and you weren’t gonna back down now.

“Yes,” you moaned against his neck, arching your back to brush your nipples against his chest with every movement, loving the friction.

His smile was slow and devastating and sharp enough to cut.

“Such a good, obedient girl,” he purred, and bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “Now hold on to me. ‘Cause whatever those books told you doesn’t even come close to what I’ll do to you tonight.”

In a swift move, he hauled you with your back to him, prompting you to grip the edge of the bathtub for some sort of stability, bending your back and arching it until it almost hurt, but giving him a gorgeous view of your ass spread open and a peak of your pussy leaking into the lapping water.

He chuckled behind you, a sound rather mocking but sweet at the same time, a purr that traveled down your spine and settled in your throbbing nub.

“She’s so swollen already… tsk. Are you sure you want this, beautiful? Last chance to back out.” he tutted behind you, fingers parting your folds and rubbing between them with enough pressure to have you chase his hands. His voice was so sweet, so innocent and almost tender, but it was far from that, really. You knew as much when he pushed three fingers inside your clenching hole, making you hiss and moan in pleasure and pain. It only made him chuckle and caress your ass as he fucked the fingers in and out of you slowly.

“Very tight, cutie. Not to brag, buuut… if you struggle to even take my fingers, you’ll be a mess when I stuff you with my cocks.” he curled them inside you as he spoke, a smirk present in his whispery tone, a little smug, “… You’ll cry, cutie. But you’re so desperate to be fucked, so I’ll indulge you if you really want it.”

“O-oh, oh fuck, please I do! I do… Feels good, j-just… give me a sec?”

“We have all night, cutie. Don’t think you’ll leave this bathroom until morning.”

The tone of his voice had gone a lot lower, and you only fully registered it when his fingers curled deeper inside you and you forced your eyes open to look back over your shoulder. The breath you took stuttered in your chest and stayed there.

He was beautiful.

Iridescent blue scales had bloomed across his collarbones and the sides of his neck in patterns that looked like jewelry that grew from the skin instead of being placed upon it. They scattered down his chest in a constellation that thinned out across his ribs and disappeared beneath the waterline, and smaller, finer scales decorated the high points of his cheekbones, just under his eyes, catching the bathroom light and refracting it in pearlescent shimmers every time he moved.

His eyes glowed, the blue of his iris turned luminous, like seafoam catching moonlight. His pupils were still blown wide, his lashes still damp with steam, and the flush across his nose and cheekbones had spread to color the tips of his ears in a deep rose.

He smirked at you with lazy confidence while his free hand stroked himself in slow, languid pulls beneath the water, his cock thick and flushed in his grip, and your mouth went dry watching it.

“Oh, you’re so gorgeous,” you breathed, twisting fully to drink him in, and the words came out hushed and tender almost, your fingers itching to touch him all over. “Raf, you're stunning like this.”

His hand stilled on his cock. His jaw worked, just barely, the smirk slipping into something more vulnerable for a half a second before he wrestled it back into place, stroking slowly down his shaft.

“Yeah?” he managed, voice scraped low, and the casual lilt in it didn’t quite cover the way his throat moved when he swallowed. You knew how your praises touched him, and found him cute trying to cover it up, “Don’t get all sappy on me, cutie. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation?” you teased, reaching back to drag your fingertips along the curve of his jaw, tracing where the scales blurred into skin, and he tilted into your touch despite himself. "The one where you pretend you don’t get needy and hard when I tell you how beatiful you are? I’m not buying it, baby.”

“Oh, you're not buying it,” he echoed, and you watched the smirk sharpen into something dangerous as his fingers slipped out of you in one slow drag that made you whimper. His hand came around to grip your throat from behind, thumb pressing against the corner of your jaw, tipping your head back against his shoulder until you were arched and open and entirely at his mercy. “Lemme refresh you on my reputation real quick, then.”

He hauled you up by your hair.

The motion ripped a gasp from you, sharp and surprised, your knees scrambling to bracket the outside of his thighs in the water. His chest was hot against your back, the scales there warm and faintly sharp beneath your shoulder blades, meanwhile his other hand slid between your bodies, lining himself up before he hauled your hips down with a single, uncompromising pull that drove him into you to the hilt.

The sound that tore out of you was obscene. A broken, drawn-out moan that bounced off the tile, your back bowing as your hands flew back to grip his thighs for any kind of purchase. He didn’t give you a second to adjust.

“There we go,” he purred, the smugness back in full force, his hands settling on your hips to lift you and drag you down again, setting a brutal rhythm that made the water slosh in waves against the edges of the tub and had you clench around him desperately. “That’s the face I wanted. Look at you, all dazed and pretty for me. Where’d that smart mouth go, cutie? Hm?”

“R-right here,” you panted, twisting your head against his shoulder, lips brushing the line of scales along the side of his throat. You opened your mouth and licked, slowly dragging your tongue along the iridescent ridge from his collarbone to his ear. You didn’t read all those books for nothing, right? You had to make the best of your newfound knowledge.

His hips lost their rhythm for a fraction of a second, a strangled noise punching out of his chest, and you felt his whole body shudder beneath you. His cock kept twitching inside you, and you moaned at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he hissed, the word ragged and spit into your ear, his grip on your hair tightened. “Cutie, don’t... shit.”

“Don’t what?” you purred against the wet shimmer of his neck, sealing your lips over a cluster of scales and sucking gently, before scraping your teeth across them. “You don't like it?”

The noise he made was not designed for human ears. A low, almost rumbling moan that vibrated against your tongue, his cock twitching hard inside you, and his head dropped forward against your shoulder for a beat too long.

“I hate you and your little naughty schemes,” he breathed, but his hips snapped up into yours with a force that made you cry out, his teeth finding the side of your neck and biting down hard enough to bruise, a direct reminder of who was in charge. “Such a brat. Reading your little books and figurin’ out exactly where to touch me. Think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“I think I'm right,” you gasped, reaching back to thread your fingers into his hair, tugging hard as you turned your head until your mouth found the corner of his, peppering small kisses. “Tell me I’m right, baby. Tell me you like it.”

“I’m not telling you shit,” he rasped against your lips, but he was kissing you between every word, sloppy and open-mouthed, his tongue dragging along yours with a hunger that wasn’t subtle. His hand released your hair to wrap around your throat from the front, fingers splaying wide, thumb pressing just beneath your jaw. “Stop talkin’ before I shut you up.”

This back-and-forth was familiar between you already, the push-and-pull that made everything exciting when you gripped and pulled and ravished one another while having sex. You knew how to tick him off, and he knew how to handle you just as easily. Which is why the next words left your mouth in a slow, unhurried purr, one that went straight to his cock and had it twitch in pleasure inside your g-spot.

“Make me.”

His laugh broke against your mouth, breathless and taunting. He kissed you harder, deeper, teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling until it stung and almost drew blood. His free hand slid up your stomach to your chest, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger with a sharpness that made you sob and eyes sting with real tears, your hips bucking down into his with a wet, slick sound that made his next groan come out shaking. You wanted him to fuck you faster, but he controled every move of his hips despite you being above him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he purred against your jaw, dragging his tongue along the spot beneath your ear, knowing it’ll make you shudder and clench around him. “All bark, my cutie. Bratty little thing pretending she can keep up with me while I’m splittin’ her open.”

Your laugh was a broken thing that crumbled into a moan as his fingers rolled your nipple between them without mercy. You twisted in his grip to mouth at the scales along his throat again, sucking harder this time, letting your teeth scrape along the iridescent patterns the way you’d read about.

His whole body locked up. A guttural, choked-off sound spilled from him, his hips stuttering through the rhythm he’d been setting, and you felt his thighs trembling beneath yours. He was so fucking gone, it made you smirk pleased against his scales as you licked again.

“Cutie,” he warned, voice cracked clean through, and his grip on your throat tightened just slightly, the pad of his thumb pressing into your pulse. “I'm gonna lose it comletely if you keep doing that, and I won’t show you any mercy for the rest of the night.”

“But isn’t that the point, my love?” you breathed against the wet shimmering skin, lapping at it with the flat of your tongue, “Won’t you fuck me like you always dreamed of? You always fucked me as your girlfriend, won’t you fuck me as your mate, too?”

You reached one hand back and down between your bodies, finding the place at the base of his spine where the texts said the scales would be most sensitive. You pressed two fingertips there and dragged them up slowly, tracing along the ridge.

He made a sound you’d never heard before.

A low, wrecked whimper that didn’t belong to him, one so unfamiliar that it surprised eve you for a second, a sound so animalistic it had you even more excited to push him more. His forehead crashed forward against the side of your neck as his hips snapped up into yours with a force that knocked the breath out of you.

“You little...” he started, and the rest of it dissolved into a groan that vibrated against your skin, his teeth closing on your shoulder to muffle it. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, dragging you down onto him with rough, fast, uneven thrusts that betrayed how close he was to losing the act entirely. “You read about that too, huh? Knew exactly where to touch me. Knew exactly how to make your boyfriend want to fuck you senseless in a goddamn bathtub.”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, pressing a slow kiss to the scales beneath his ear before licking a stripe along them. “Wanted to know all of you. Every inch of you needs to be loved, don’t you agree?”

“F-fuck,” he breathed, and he sounded actually gone, his free hand abandoning your breast to slide down between your thighs and find your throbbing clit. His circles were a lot rougher and faster, no rhythm to them whatsoever, and the coil low in your belly snapped tight in seconds. “Yeah? Wanted to know me like this? Wanted to wreck me, baby? Is that what your little research project was about?”

“I wanted to be wrecked by you,” you sighed, turning to catch his mouth in a sloppy, open kiss. He groaned into it, deep and helpless, slothing his tongue with yours in a sensual dance.

“Fuck, you say things like that and I can’t think straight,” he hissed, his pace turning punishing, his hips grinding up into yours with a relentlessness that had your eyes rolling back and vision whitening. His fingers on your clit didn’t slow for a second. “Gonna cum for me, cutie? Gonna cum on my cock ‘cause I told you to?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, your hand still pressed to the scales at the base of his spine, dragging your fingers along them in a slow stroke that made his hips buck violently, hitting your g-spot. “Oh fuck, yes, ‘m gonna cum s-soon…”

“Then do it,” he rasped against your ear,his thumb pressing harder against your throat, his other hand working you faster, sharper, meaner. “C’mon, baby. Show me what a smart girl you are. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you the other one.”

The orgasm tore through you with the kind of speed that left your ears ringing. You cried out loder than ever before, your nails dragging crescents into his thighs as you clenched around him in pulses that made him groan against your neck, his hips stuttering through your aftershocks. He fucked you through it, slower and deeper now, his hand abandoning your clit to wrap around your waist and hold you steady as you shook.

“Ride it, baby. Just like that,” the softness that bled into his voice was sudden and disarming, his lips finding the side of your neck and pressing a kiss there that was almost gentle. He kissed up to your jaw, your cheek, and his hand cupped your face to turn you toward him, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that was deeper than it needed to be, slower than the rest of him had any right to be.

You knew that kiss. You knew what it meant.

It was Rafayel’s quiet way of asking, the question he never spoke aloud because saying it would mean dropping the act. You okay? You want to keep going? Should I stop?

You smiled against his lips, and the way his shoulders relaxed at it told you he’d been holding his breath without realizing.

You turned in his lap on shaky legs, water sloshing over the rim of the tub, and settled facing him with your thighs draped over his. His cock slipped from you with the motion and you both groaned at the loss, but your eyes had already dropped, drawn down through the water by something new.

There were two now.

The first you knew. The one you’d been wrecked on a moment ago, thick and flushed and slick with you. The second was unfamiliar in the most beautiful way, pressed alongside it against his stomach, marked with faint iridescent ridges that caught the light when you tilted your head. It was the same shade as his scales, that dark blue that seemed to shimmer when he moved, slightly slimmer than the first but no less substantial, the head of it gleaming wetly above the waterline.

Your breath caught in your throat, stunned and mesmerized at the same time.

You reached down with both hands, shaky as you traced one fingertip along the underside of the second cock from base to tip while the other wrapped lightly around the tip. The ridges were softer than scales, almost velvety, and they pulsed warm beneath your touch.

Rafayel hissed harshly, his head dropping back against the rim of the tub with a thud, his hips jerking up into your hands.

“Fuck, cutie...” he choked, voice stripped down to something raw and shaking.

“It’s very beautiful,” you whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to his sternum, dragging your lips along the line of scales that scattered there before working your way lower. “Raf, you’re so beautiful like this. I could look at you forever.”

“You can’t just say things like that so easily while your hands are wrapped around my cock,” he gritted out, but his hands had come up to fist in your hair, like he needed something to anchor him through your touches of his most sensitive, intimate parts.

You kissed lower. Across his ribs, along the soft trail of scales that led down his stomach, and his muscles twitched and flexed beneath your mouth in a way that made his next breath leave him in a stutter.

“Do you like that?” you licked a scale, glancing up at him through your lashes with a smile so sweet it should have come with a warning label. “When I kiss you here? I read it’s sensitive.”

“I’m gonna kill whoever wrote that book,” he groaned, head falling back against the rim again, glowing eyes squeezed shut, throat bared in a line that made your mouth water and ache to kiss again.

“Mm. Should I stop, then?”

“Never said that.”

A please laugh came out, and you bent to press another kiss to his navel, your fingers still tracing the ridges along his second cock with featherlight intent. He twitched in your grip and a broken whine spilled out of him, his hips lifting off the bottom of the tub to chase more.

His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw.

The grip was sudden and harsh, snapping your face up to his, and the glow in his eyes had brightened, the smile on his lips no longer lazy. It was sharp. Predatory. You should have felt in danger under such a gaze, but it only made you wetter.

“You absolute brat,” he purred, his thumb pressed past your lips, dragging across your tongue. You opened your mouth for him on reflex, your eyes hooded and your breath hot against his skin. “Kissing me all sweet, askin’ if I like it, touching me like you’ve got me figured out. You think you’re in charge here, cutie?”

He pushed two fingers into your mouth, replacing the thumb, and pressed them down on your tongue. Your jaw fell open. Drool gathered at the corners of your lips and his eyes tracked it with a hunger that made your thighs clench around his.

“Suck them,” he commanded, low and almost gentle, and you obeyed without thinking, closing your lips around his fingers and laving your tongue along them, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked slowly. The groan he gave you was unsteady, his hips rolling up beneath you, his free hand coming up to grip your waist with a force that would leave fingerprints. “So compliant. Such a filthy little mouth, now stuffed full.”

He pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly, dragging a string of spit with them, and used the wetness to trace a slow, deliberate line down your chin, your throat, your sternum, until he was cupping your jaw again.

“My pretty, perverted girl,” he murmured, and his voice was velvet wrapped around something that made your stomach drop. “Greedy little cunt couldn’t even let me catch my breath before she was already lookin’ at the second one. You really wanna know what a Lemurian mating ritual feels like, hm? You begged for it. Researched for it. Drugged your boyfriend in his own bathtub just to find out.”

His thumb pressed against your bottom lip, and the smile he gave you was sweet and sharp and absolutely ruinous.

“So I’m gonna give it to you, baby. Both of ‘em. Stretchin’ this little cunt out ‘til you forget what it felt like before me. And you’re gonna look at me the whole time, cutie.”

His tongue came out to lick his own bitten lips, eyes dazed and a mile away, probably already imagining the fucked-out expression of your face when he’ll finally slip inside.

“You don’t get to close your eyes. Wanna see your face when I split you open on both, yeah? Wanna watch the second you realize you’ll die without ‘em the second they’re inside you.”

His fingers tightened on your jaw, his glowing eyes burned into yours.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you breathed, the words coming out rough and a bit desperate, tongue still tingling where his fingers had pressed it down. “Show me, Raf.”

His pupils dilated until they nearly swallowed the glow.

“Yeah?” he purred, the smirk spreading across his lips was slow and cocky, all teeth and trouble. “Lemme hear you ask for it properly, cutie. Pretty mouth like yours, oughta beg for what it wants.”

“Please show me,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss the corner of his smirk, mouth dragging slow along his jaw. “Show me how a Lemurian fucks his girl, baby.”

His breath punched out of him. A real, audible exhale that he tried to mask under a chuckle but couldn’t quite, his fingers tightening on the back of your neck.

“Yeah, that’s more like it,” he rasped, and the smirk turned into something wolfish. “Gotta admit it, cutie. You’re gorgeous when you beg me.”

He moved with a speed that left you dizzy.

His hands hooked under your thighs and lifted your body, water cascading off your skin as he stood and pivoted in one fluid motion, settling himself against the slanted back of the tub where the marble curved into something more like a chaise than a wall. The water lapped at his hips and he positioned you straddling him, knees bracketing his thighs, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for balance.

“Hold on tight, beautiful,” he tutted, smirk flickering with anticipation as he reached down between your bodies. One hand wrapped around both cocks, lining them up, the heads pressing together against your entrance. The sight of it made your stomach drop and your mouth go wet, heart beating so fast from the anticipation.

“Raf,” you whined, eyes flicking up to his. You let your voice go small and breathless on purpose, knowing exactly what it would do. “Be nice to me.”

You saw his jaw flex while his other hand slid up your spine to grip the back of your neck, possessive and firm, followed by a smile so sweet and sharp and completely insincere.

“Nice,” he echoed, savoring the word like a piece of candy. “She wants me to be nice. After everything she pulled tonight. C’mon, cutie. You really think you earned nice?”

“Mm. Maybe not,” you admitted, biting your lip. You rolled your hips down just enough to drag the heads of both cocks against your entrance, slick and ready for him. “But you love me, so.”

“I do love you,” he agreed with a hum, voice dropped to something low and lethal that had your toes curl. “That won’t stop me from fucking you like I don’t. After all, you asked for exactly that, yeah?”

He lowered you onto him.

The first inch ripped a gasp from you. The second made you sob. He went slow, agonizingly slow, his hand on your hip controlling every fraction of the descent, and you watched his composure splinter in real time, his lips parting on a stuttered exhale, his glowing eyes fluttering before he forced them back open. He wanted to see your face. You wanted to see his unraveling. Every inch of him was so delicious, not very painful because even like this, he made sure you weren’t uncomfortable. But it soon turned into agonizing pleasure, making your breath shallow.

“Eyes on me,” he rasped, even as his own threatened to roll back. “Don’t you dare close ‘em, cutie. Wanna watch every second of this, paint it later.”

“Don’t close yours either,” you breathed back, tracing your thumb along his bottom lip, holding his gaze even as your thighs shook. “Wanna see how good I make you feel, baby.”

A choked sound left him, and his hips twitched up beneath you involuntarily, sinking both cocks deeper in one rough jolt that made you cry out. He went so deep you saw stars behind your eyelids, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Fuck, shit,” he hissed, jaw clenching tight. His hand was gripping your hip with bruising force, sure to leave purple blooms across the skin. “Stop talkin’ like that, cutie, I swear to god...”

“Or what?” you taunted, smiling against his mouth and went ahead and clenched around him on purpose, just to watch what happens.

His head dropped forward against your collarbone with a wet thud. A low, broken groan rumbled out of his chest, and then his teeth closed on the skin there, biting so hard it made you shake against him.

“Or I’m gonna fuck this attitude right out of you,” he muttered against the bite. “Keep runnin’ your pretty mouth and find out, cutie.”

You eased the rest of the way down, the stretch unbelievable, the burn of it edged with a fullness that pushed every coherent thought out of your skull. By the time you were fully seated against him, hips flush and both cocks buried so deep inside you that your vision went white at the edges, you were both panting like you’d run a marathon.

You knew it took great force for him to keep still and not fuck ruthelessly into you, that thought made your chest ache sweetly. He knew to fuck you like you wanted but he always made sure you remember he still silently sought out your comfort at all times.

“There’s my good girl, welcoming me so nicely,” he breathed, lifting his head to look at you, with a smile that broke across his face in disbelief, fond and absolutely wrecked. “Sittin’ on me and looking so pretty. How’s it feel, hm? Better than your dusty old books told you?”

“There were no b-books,” you panted, finding the strength to smile against his lips, dazed and sincere. “Nothing in this world could’ve prepared me for how you’ll feel, Raf.”

His eye actually rolled back. A full, slow flutter of his lashes, his head tipping back against the marble behind him, and a wrecked groan rumbled out of his throat. He was so easy to dismantle.

“Princess,” he gritted, hips twitching up and pulling a sharp cry from you. “Sometimes you don’t need to be so honest, y’know…”

“Is it wrong for me to admit how I want my boyfriend to fuck me? I thought you wanted us to be honest with one another,” you breathed and leaned forward, dragging your tongue along the line of scales at his throat, sealing your lips over the them and sucking until he sobbed.

His hips snapped up hard. A strangled noise tore out of him, and his hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back to bare your throat. It tingled on your scalp, pain and plasure shooting through you, smiling through lidded eyes.

“You really are askin’ for it tonight, huh?” he growled, his mouth finding the curve of your neck and biting down hard enough to make you yelp. “Touchin’ me like that. Lickin’ my scales like you wanna eat me alive. Where’s all that come from, cutie? Hm? Did your little research project teach you how to drive your boyfriend insane too?”

“Mm,” you hummed, smiling against his ear as he sucked another bruise into your throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

His laugh broke against your skin. Breathless. Disbelieving.

“So it’s like that, then.” he purred, and his hips finally moved. A slow drag that pulled both cocks halfway out of you before slamming back in, the water sloshing in waves against the tub. Your eyes rolled back so hard it had you see spots behind your eyelids, “I’m gonna make you regret every smart thing that ever came out of that mouth.”

He set a rhythm that was slow at first but so fucking deep, every thrust pulling you apart and putting you back together, the water sloshing against your skin with each grind. His hands never let go of you, one fisted in your hair, one gripping your hip, guiding and lifting and dropping you onto him like you weighed nothing. You could only let him.

“You’re so compliant,” he cooed, voice gone honeyed and mean. “Stretchin’ so pretty around me. All it took to shut your pretty mouth was filling you up, tsk.”

“Mm, baby,” you moaned, fingers digging into the scales along his shoulders, scraping lightly. “You feel so g-good. S’big. Filling me up so much I can barely breathe...h-hahh…”

His glowing eyes squeezed shut for a beat, his breath shuddering out of him in a broken wave as his pace stuttered.

“Stop bein’ sweet to me while I’m tryin’ to wreck you…” he whined weakly, but his hips snapped up harder.

“Why?” you whispered, leaning down to press your mouth to the cluster of scales over his sternum, kissing along them and sucking gently, dragging your tongue across them. “Don’t you like it when I’m sweet? Or you like it when I tell you exactly how good you are at this?”

A helpless whimper left his mouth, hips losing their rhythm entirely for a moment, and you took the opportunity to slide one hand down between your bodies and press your fingertips against the base of his spine where the scales were thickest, dragging them up slowly along the ridge.

A strangled groan ripped out of him, and his teeth sank into your shoulder so hard you saw stars.

“Cutie…” he started, the rest dissolving into a curse, his hips snapping up into yours with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. “You read about every single sensitive spot I have, didn’t you? Mapped me out like a goddamn treasure hunt.”

“I wanted to learn how to please you,” you breathed against his ear, then closed your teeth around his earlobe and tugged. “Every part of you, Raf. Worship you like you worship me.”

A real, helpless sob escaped him, his head dropping forward against your shoulder while his hips drove into you with a desperate rhythm.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he gritted, even as his hands gripped you tighter, even as his cocks throbbed inside you. “You’re not allowed to say shit like that right now, cutie. I’m tryin’ to be mean to you and you’re makin’ it impossible.”

“So be mean to me,” you challenged, lifting your head to meet his eyes, giving him a seductive smile, “C’mon, Raf. Show me what you got. Tell me what’s gonna happen now, what you’re gonna do to your sweet bride.”

The smile that returned to his lips was slow and sinful.

“Yeah?” he purred, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. “You wanna know what’s gonna happen, cutie? You wanna know what kinda ritual you started?”

“Teach me,” you whispered, kissing the pad of his thumb.

“Lemme paint you a picture, baby,” he breathed, his hips ground up into yours in slow, filthy circles that made your back arch. “Right now? This is just the warmup. I’m gonna fuck you on both my cocks ‘til you’re crying. ‘Til you forget your own name. And then, when you’re so gone you can barely keep your eyes open...”

He paused, tongue dragging along your jaw and smile widening against your skin, making you tremble.

“... that’s when I’m gonna breed you, cutie.”

You clenched around him so hard he choked.

“O-oh, fuck,” he laughed, breathless. “Oh, you liked that, huh? My pretty little hunter likes the sound of bein’ bred. Tell me, baby, did your books cover that part too? Did they tell you what it’s like when a Lemurian fills his lover up?”

“S-Some of it,” you struttered, rolling your hips down to meet his, riding the slow grind of him until you both groaned. “Not enough… they weren’t d-detailed… Mmm, will you tell me?”

“Tell you, hm?” he mused, his hand sliding up from your hip to wrap around your throat, thumb pressing against your jaw. “You sure, cutie? You scared yet? ‘Cause I’d understand if you were.”

“Not scared,” your eyebrows knitted, holding his gaze. “Tell me.”

His smirk turned vicious.

“Eggs, baby,” he rasped, hips snapping up to punctuate the word, mouth hovering over yours. “I’m gonna fill this tight little cunt with my eggs. One after another... Deep... Where you can feel them. Where you’ll feel them for days.”

You moaned, your eyes rolling back and nails scoring down his chest.

“Do you like that?” he cooed, mean and delighted, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “You like the thought of being so full of me you can’t even sit straight? Walkin’ around tomorrow with my eggs inside you, knowin’ I put them there?”

“Y-yes,” you whimpered, and you couldn't help it, you couldn't stop, you ground down on him harder, seeking more friction, seeking what he was telling you he’ll do. “Yes, Raf, please.”

“Such a pervert,” he cooed almost fondly, cupping your face. “My sweet, perverted girl. So curious. So greedy.”

“H-Have you,” you breathed, cupping his face back, holding his glowing eyes with yours, “have you ever thought about it before? Be honest, baby. Ever dreamed about doing this to me?”

Something cracked behind his eyes. Something wild and exposed.

“Cutie,” he warned, voice splintering.

“Don’t avoid it,” you whispered, kissing him softly, dragging your tongue along his bottom lip. “Have you imagined it, Raf? Filling me up? Breeding me? Watching me take all you have to give?”

“Yes,” he hissed, and the word seemed to be torn out of him, his whole body shuddering against yours. “Yeah, more times than I can count. Thought about it every time I came inside you.”

“Then do it,” you whispered against his mouth, kissing him deeper, sloppier, your tongue dragging against his. “Do it. I want it, too.”

His arms wrapped around you and crushed you against him.

His pace turned brutal. Desperate. His hips drove up into you with a ragged, uncontrolled rhythm that made the water slosh over the tub’s edge and onto the floor. His mouth was everywhere, your throat, your jaw, your collarbones, biting and sucking marks into your skin that you would feel for a week, if not more.

“You want it, baby?” he panted against your skin, voice broken open. “You want me to breed you? My greedy lover, asking to be filled up by her boyfriend’s eggs?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled, clinging to him, mouthing at every cluster of scales you could reach, dragging your nails down his back. “Please, Raf, please, please.”

“Yeah?” he laughed, breathless, “Gonna take all my eggs for me? Gonna let me stuff this cunt full and then fuck you anyway? Gonna let your boyfriend ride you with his eggs inside, baby?”

“Yes, Raf, yes.” you moaned, eyes rolling back with every hard thrust, almost giving you a headache.

“Tell me how full you’re gonna feel,” he commanded, lifting his head to look at you, glowing eyes locked on yours and thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Lemme hear it.”

“So f-full,” you whimpered, your tongue laving over the thumb pressing into your mouth. “So full of you, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he purred, mean and tender at once. “So full you won’t be able to think. Won’t be able to walk. Gonna keep my cocks inside you the whole time too, cutie. Gonna fuck you until you pass out on them. And when you wake up, baby? I’m gonna do it all over again.”

“Yes,” you sobbed, clenching around him, your forehead falling against his. “Please, w-wanna cum…”

His hand slid down between your bodies and found your clit, working it in tight, brutal circles, and the third orgasm built fast and sharp and impossibly close. You could feel him changing inside you, the second cock swelling slightly against your walls.

“It’s comin’, cutie,” he warned, voice gone guttural, eyes burning into yours. “Stay with me, baby. Look at me. Don’t you dare look away.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I’m here, Raf, I’m here—”

He pulled you down onto him in one final, deep press, both cocks buried to the hilt, his hands clamped to your hips like he was holding the world together. A pulse, then another, the second cock swelling slightly inside you, a fullness that built and built until you gasped.

Something gave.

A pressure released, and you felt the first one. Small, rounded, smooth, sliding deep inside you, settling somewhere that made your mouth hand open and your spine arch. Then another. And another. Each one drawing a broken, helpless sound from him, each one pulling a high, breathy yes from you, mindless and dazed.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he panted against your throat, his arms wrapped around you so tight you couldn’t breathe. “Take them, baby. Take them all for me. Such a good girl, fuck, you’re shaking so hard…”

“Yesyesyes,” you babbled mindlessly, clinging to him while mouthing nonsense against his ear, tears at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming fullness. “H-hah, ‘m so close… Raf, ‘m so full…”

“I’m gonna fill you up after,” he rasped, his hips still thrusting upwards, his voice cracking around the words. He was as lost as you were. “Gonna come inside you, cutie. Stuff this cunt so full it’ll leak out of you, you hear me? Gonna mark every inch of you mine.”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed, and the third orgasm crested and broke through you in waves that left you crying, your body shaking with it. The fullness inside you a strange and beautiful weight you’d never felt before.

He came with you. A long, broken groan against your neck, his hips pressing up into yours one last time, both cocks pulsing as he spilled into you in waves that felt impossibly warm, impossibly intimate. You felt the slow leak of your shared passion as his cocks twitched through the last aftershocks, his cum spilling out of you around him, joining the water that lapped at your hips.

The only sound was the two of you breathing, foreheads pressed together, hands still clutching skin and scales and hair like neither of you wanted to be the first to let go.

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He Is Insufferably Proud About It

Rafayel loves introducing you as his spouse.

Not casually either.

“Oh, this is my wife.”

Like he just revealed the greatest masterpiece ever created.

And if someone compliments you?

He acts smug about it.

“Yes, I know. I married well.”

Husband Rafayel Is Extremely Affectionate

You are getting touched constantly.

fingers brushing yours

pulling you into his lap

kisses against your shoulder while passing

dramatic collapsing onto you when tired

He acts like your attention is a basic survival requirement.

Honestly? Maybe it is.

He Wants Your Attention All the Time

Not in a controlling way.

Just… very husband-shaped clinginess.

If you ignore him too long:

he appears beside you

starts talking

rests his chin on your shoulder

sighs dramatically

“You have abandoned me.”

“You saw me ten minutes ago.”

“A tragedy nonetheless.”

He Makes Marriage Feel Romantic Daily

Rafayel does not let things become dull.

Ever.

Random examples:

surprise dates

flowers for no reason

painting you because “the lighting looked pretty”

dancing with you in the kitchen

buying things that reminded him of you

He enjoys loving you openly.

He Loves Domestic Quiet

This surprises people.

But Rafayel absolutely adores:

laying beside you while working

sharing snacks

sleepy mornings

listening to you talk while he paints

He likes the peace of simply existing together.

Especially after chaotic days.

He Is Very Emotionally Attentive

People underestimate this about him.

Rafayel notices emotional shifts immediately.

If your mood changes even slightly: “What happened?”

And he will keep asking until you answer.

Because once you are his wife, your feelings become incredibly important to him.

Husband Rafayel Gets Jealous Easily

Not dangerously.

Dramatically.

sudden clinginess

exaggerated sighs

appearing beside you instantly

And if someone flirts with you?

Oh, he becomes unbearable.

Slides an arm around your waist and smiles politely while saying something devastating like:

“Careful. I am emotionally attached to her.”

He Loves Showing You Off

Respectfully.

Adoringly.

He just genuinely thinks you are beautiful and fascinating.

So:

he stares openly

brags about you

takes photos constantly

paints/sketches you repeatedly

You become his favourite subject without even trying.

Arguments With Husband Rafayel

More emotional than the others.

Not cruel. Never cruel.

But:

quieter than usual

visibly hurt

less teasing

Rafayel hates feeling disconnected from you.

And honestly? He folds first most of the time.

Because he misses you immediately.

He Is Weak for Physical Affection

Especially when you initiate it.

You hug him first? He melts.

You kiss his cheek absentmindedly? Gone. Destroyed.

You play with his hair? This man is no longer functional.

Sleeping Beside Him

Very clingy sleeper.

pulls you close unconsciously

likes your legs tangled together

sleepy kisses

dramatic complaints if you wake him accidentally

But also: he sleeps deeper when you are there.

Safer.

He Makes Art Inspired by You Constantly

You realise after marriage that half his work is somehow connected to you.

Not always directly.

Sometimes:

colours that remind him of you

emotions tied to you

tiny details only he understands

You are woven into everything he creates.

He Loves Being Loved Publicly

Not in an attention-seeking way.

But if you:

kiss him first

hold his hand

lean into him

call him your husband

You can physically see him brighten.

He tries to act composed.

Fails every single time.

Underneath Everything…

Rafayel loves intensely.

Emotionally. Creatively. Completely.

Marriage with him feels like:

laughter mixed with longing

art and affection tangled together

being adored loudly and softly at the same time

The kind of love that says:

Look at what is mine. Look at the person I cherish most.

Overall Husband Rafayel Energy

paint-stained fingers

dramatic affection

sleepy cuddles

“come sit with me”

dancing in the kitchen

endless sketches of you