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This blog contains NSFW content. If you do not have your age in your bio, pinned post, or have sent me an ask non anonymously confirming you are over 18 you are getting blocked.

Writing requests: CLOSED Bot Requests: OPEN

~ Rules ~

All characters I write for on this blog are STRICTLY 18+. I will write anything that I am comfortable with. If a request does not make me comfortable, I will delete it.

Examples of what I WILL write: - Predator/Prey - Heat/Rut/Mating Seasons - Bondage/Blindfolding - Overstimulation - Marking/Knotting - Somnophilia Examples of what I will NOT write: - Incest/Proshipping - Bodily fluids that aren't semen, slick, spit or blood - Male Reader (Just don't feel comfortable writing for a sex that I do not have kdsjan) - Character x Character - Non-con - Heavily violent/gory themes

~ Masterlist ~

Janitor A.I bot master list

#rottmnt x reader #x reader #saltyafterhours #trolls x reader #kpdh x reader

mwphisto

Harder, Please! - LaDs Aphrodisiac SMAU+Drabble

~ I couldn't just write the SMAU and not add in some actual smut for this kinda trope... Nothing too crazy length wise for the drabbles so this post is still pretty bite-sized! Hope you enjoy :)

“More… please I need more…” You were writhing below him, body slick with sweat, burning from the exertion and the fever. Sylus was panting above you, hair sticking to his forehead as he lowered himself from his hands to his arms. “Greedy…”

The kisses were wet, open-mouthed along your salty skin. His cock, still half inside of you, throbbing despite coming four or five times already. “Sy, it hurts, please…” Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to turn your head to meet his lips.

“My poor baby.” The vibration of his words has your back arching, whimpering as he pushes all the way back in.

“Is it terrible for me to say I like having you like this?” He reluctantly pulls his lips from your skin, to look at your fucked-out face. His hips moved on their own, the sight fueling his movements just to see the relief flood your features. “Should wear off in a few hours, hopefully.”

But even as you succumbed to the pleasure, you could tell he didn’t want it to end. “Q-quit talking and fuck me harder…!”

The aphrodisiac was still flooding your veins, clouding your head. Every stroke only intensifies the hunger pooling deep in your belly. All you wanted was him, engulfing every one of your senses.

Sylus only huffed out a laugh, adjusting himself to gather your legs and press them brutally against your chest. The new angle knocked the wind out of you as he used it to his advantage and thrusted his lips harder. Just as you had not so kindly asked.

But, given your circumstances, he’d let it slide. “Sy!” You nearly yelled, eyes threatening to roll back as pleasure seeped through your aching body. Your cunt sputters around him for the umpteenth time since getting back to Onychinus’ base, but still not quite sating the endless desire to devour him whole.

“It’s going to be a long night, hmm?”

aeyumicore

KINKTOBER 2025 DAY 8 ━ SMAU #4

$6.99 APPETIZER 3 ━ NSFW SMAU. ALL FIVE LADS MEN synopsis. they hear you touching yourself through the wall and moaning their name! (pre-relationship) incl. caleb, zayne, rafayel, sylus, xavier

━ ✧ cw: mdni, smutty and suggestive, crack, fluff

━ ✧ links: kinktober 2025 masterlist | general masterlist | smau masterlist

notmedicli

hi!! I love ur work sm and I wanted to ask how you think the lads would do in no nut november? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) stay frosty!!!

hi beautiful, thank you so much!!! i’m gonna do a real headcanon at the end of the month about NNN, but i will 100% tell you how they’d do :3

CALEB — less than a day

caleb would want to participate, i think. he would really try, but the second he sees a sliver of your bare skin or hears you call him ‘baby’, he’s so bricked and ready to throw the plans he had for no nut november out the window. i just think caleb is the easiest to fold merely because he’s wanted you forever and he hates not being inside of you when that’s his favorite place to be. so yeah, as soon as he’s off work and comes home to you in a big shirt with nothing but panties on underneath, you’re getting split in half and he’s filling you up. fuck no nut november, he’d rather just fuck you instead :3

XAVIER — three days

xavier is constantly in heat… maybe it’s an alien thing… or maybe sex is something that helps him recharge, but i give him three days TOPS before he loses. he doesn’t even know why he agreed to the stupid challenge anyway—he really just does whatever you tell him to. but you know him and you know xavier lacks patience and self control for this month-long challenge. the first 3 days without being buried inside you felt like a lifetime for him and you think he could really handle 30 days of no sex? absolutely not. xavier, also possessive by nature, can’t stand the thought of not being able to claim you and fuck you full of his cum… so on november 3rd, he’s pounding on your door and he practically ravages you in the doorway.

ZAYNE — 8 days and 23 hours

contrary to popular belief…. zayne can barely make it past a week. yes, he has self control and he knows how to restrain himself, but he can’t do that with you. zayne says i love you in many ways, but this is how he says it the loudest. he needs to be pressed against you with your hands in his while he kisses you everywhere. he needs to be unravel inside of you after a long day at work. in short, he just needs you. i can see him trying his hardest not to crumble—work keeps him busy and his mind off of you, but the longer he goes without his girl, the snappier he gets. so when he gets home late from a bad day at work and you’re in his bed welcoming him home, he just can’t take it anymore and takes you right then and there.

RAFAYEL — 16 days

i might get tomatoes thrown at me but i think raf could go awhile without sex especially if he’s being challenged and… it’s impressive, honestly. you doubted he could last a week and he proved you wrong when you didn’t see a text begging you to come over. but then day 16 comes and you get spammed with texts that read, “cutie…. please” and “i need you” and “pls come over i cant take it” and then come the pictures of his hard, aching cock that you admittedly miss more than anything. and when you finally see him, you notice he’s flushed everywhere—his ears, his cheeks, his neck are all a shade of deep red—he looks just as bad as he did on ebb day and that’s when you know you’re in for a long, LONG night.

SYLUS — lasts all month

now… sylus is actually very patient man when it comes to pissing you off. if you challenge him to no nut november? well, okay then. he won’t cum for the entire month of november. easy. the flaw with this is you didn’t think that it would turn into a punishment for you. sylus ends up denying you everyday of the month with the excuse of “we have to wait till December, sweetie.” and the whole challenge just makes you realize that every time you and sylus have had sex, it was initiated by you and damn him and that stupid smug smirk and his nonchalance. as soon as the clock strikes midnight on december 1st, you’re on top of him making him cum over and over and over again. the honest truth is, sylus doesn’t really care about the challenge, but watching you get so angry and pent up made it so worth it. (he loves to ragebait you)

#lads smut #love and deepspace smut

kissandtellus

‘Fur-tility Clinc’ : LADS Hybrid AU

Synopsis: Deepspace Labs is a clinic dedicated to keeping Hybrid DNA pure and clinical. Enter at your own risk. Because these Hybrids are far from tame.

Warnings: Smut, Omegaverse, Hybrid AU, Breeding, Knotting, Feline anatomy lesson, mounting, biting, rough smex, mating for life, animalistic description of mating, restraints, multiple rounds, monster fudging.

A/n: Last Kinktober post! I changed the prompt because I like this idea a smidge better. They are made for each individual LI but maybe in the future I will do a ‘Free for All’. Enjoy!

⋆˚🐾˖° XAVIER

Your ears press flat against your head, trembling as the nurse leads you deeper into the sterile white halls of Deepspace Laboratories. The contract you signed flashes in your mind—“Test Mate for Hybrid Compatibility." At the time, it had seemed like a way out. Free housing, tuition covered. All they asked in return was to let some pure-bred hybrid claim you as their temporary mate for a Rut.

As the door at the end of the hall looms closer, frosted glass etched with “Subject 11-7" in bold lettering makes your tail twitch restlessly.

The nurse punches a code into the keypad before offering what’s meant to be a reassuring smile.

“Don't worry. He's been very...eager for this."

The door slides open with an ominous hiss.

The air inside the containment room is thick with the musky, fevered scent of rut. Cloying and heavy, clinging to your lungs the moment you step in. And there, slumped against the far wall with his back turned, is Xavier.

You hadn’t read too much on his profile. He came from a good family, wealthy too. Evidently his father found it hard to find a proper mate for his son. His father just shoved Xavier and a handsome donation forward and let nature run its course.

His normally pristine white ears are flushed pink at the tips, twitching erratically as he grips his own thighs hard enough for claws to draw faint crescents through his thin gown. When he finally turns his head towards the door, his pupils are blown wide into dark voids barely rimmed by silvery blue.

“Who…?”His voice is hoarse his as nostrils flare taking in your scent. Bunny, like him. A shudder wracks through him before he whimpers.

“Smell so good…”

His eyes snap to the nurse, begging her to leave already. “You may go." He snarls, claws digging into metal when she doesn't move immediately. “I said. Go."

With a sharp bow she turns to leave, the door sliding shut with a final whoosh behind her. That's all the warning you get before Xavier is pouncing.

Rabbit Hybrids were notorious for two things:

Breeding and stamina.

Xavier had barely given your pretty cunt a sniff before he determined the slick dripping onto the medical cot was enough for him. His muscled frame, where more Hybrids of your kind were soft and plump, was hunched over you.

You’d lost count after the third time he filled you up. “Haaa…c-c’mon you can take it. It is not even-hngggg!-s’not even dripping yet.” He pants into your fluffy ear.

You whine face first into the pillows. His hips snap at a rate that makes you believe he’s part Cheetah instead of prey. Sticky strings of mixed cum connect your body. The smell of sex and desperation has long since seeped into the walls.

Your own long, floppy ears were caked in his saliva and sweat. Your fertile little womb would no doubt be perfect for all of his kits.

“Ah, please! Pleasepleaseplease-“ He’s pleading into your sweat soaked nape. “Gotta take it, my sweet Bunny. Gonna stuff y’so full.” His powerful haunches are balanced on both feet. The hands on your hips give you leverage and he’s drilling your cum soaked walls.

His feet thump against the creaky bed, desperate noises also signal another fast approach.

You squeal like you’ve been wounded, and a strong hand cups the back of your neck. “Doin’ so good. Pretty Bunny. Mmmm, feel s’hot. Here it comes, here it f-“ He cuts himself off as another load is pumped into your eager walls.

You don’t get a single second between rounds. Just a praise and a chaste kiss to the cheek before his fingers clamp around your cotton tail and drags you back onto his twitching cock.

⋆˚🐾˖° RAFAYEL

Your heart pounds as the nurse leads you deeper into the halls of Deepspace Laboratory, her heels clicking against the linoleum. Your feathers are slicked tight to your body in nervous submission, wings tucked close as your tail flattens against your back. Every instinct screaming that you’re walking into something far bigger than just a simple volunteer study.

The nurse stops abruptly at a door labeled TESTING CHAMBER - MATING COMPATIBILITY, her voice is unnervingly cheerful.

“You'll be paired with Subject Z-28 today! He’s quite…picky with his evaluations, but don’t worry. He’s been cleared for interaction." She doesn’t meet your eyes as she swipes her keycard. “Just remember, this is the comparability for interbreeding.”

Ah yes. The infamous, Mute Swan Hybrids, who are far more quiet than their counterparts Black Swans who honk and demand.

The door slides open with a quiet hiss, revealing a dimly lit chamber that smells faintly of saltwater and ink. And there, perched elegantly on the edge of an artificial pond, is Subject Z-28.

Rafayel.

A Black Swan Hybrid.

His obsidian feathers gleam under the sterile lab lights, contrasting starkly against his pale skin and those unnerving, piercing sunset eyes. His long legs are folded gracefully beneath him, almost lazily.

“Oh?" His voice is a melodic hum laced with amusement as he tilts his head. His black feathers rustling with the movement as if laughing at you silently.

“They sent me a little white swan?”* His slender fingers tap idly against knee before adding in faux sympathy, that does nothing hide sheer delight dancing behind his pretty iris.

“How cruel~.”

The Swan.

A bird of beauty, elegance, and loyalty who mates for life.

As his cock slides through a mess of slick and neatly trimmed hair, Rafayel might as well be all three as he moves over you.

His wings spread out like a sheltering cocoon of ink around your body, tail feathers fanning in a curtain to shield you both from the sterile, cold world outside.

He presses closer, lips grazing your collarbone as feathers rustle to brush against your cheek. “You spread so beautifully around me.”

He looks between your shaking thighs. His pretty perfect cock slides into awaiting wet folds. Your body accommodates immediately, desperately trying to milk him already. Your knees are pressed to your chest and spread out. Pretty white wings and feathers create an outline of your body. Like a fallen angel.

The grace in Rafeal’s movements is unparalleled. A dance that borders on hypnotizing as he moves. Each feather that grazes your skin is just the slightest touch of fire-hot silk, teasing and promising and never enough.

The way he rolls his hips is sinful. A sin you know you'll gladly sink down into willingly.

He doesn't move like a man; he moves like a God.

Your hips rise to meet each eager thrust. Where your moans of pleasure are quiet, his grunts and growls overpower them. It was absolutely true that Black Swans were so much louder than their counterparts.

But when it came to desperation, you were gushing over his length in mere minutes. His neck leans down, encircling your own as he feels how desperately you clench around his length.

Praise.

Rafayel loves praise. It fuels that ego of his like little else.

He growls against your skin, his lips brushing your pulse point, tasting the tension in that vein before dragging his tongue up your neck. "Cum for me, pretty girl."

And when your orgasm hits, so does the praise.

"So beautiful. So perfect. You are all the stars in my sky, the sun in my sky, and the very breath of my lungs." He's still fucking you through your peak, slow and steady, riding you through it. "And now I'm never letting you go. My muse.”

Because even a God can be selfish.

And Rafayel is nothing if not greedy when it comes to what's His.

There is absolutely so many feathers around the examination room that it looks like a poor pillow has been torn to shreds afterwards.

⋆˚🐾˖° ZAYNE

Your footsteps echo down the stark white hall as the nurse in front of you leads you to the hybrid labs. The sterile, antiseptic smell that fills the air leaves a slight burn in your nostrils. An ever present reminder where you are.

Your ears lower and your tail sways nervously behind you. You can't help but wonder what the people conducting the tests will think of you. What does this test even involve? You were barely given any information about the details as you signed the waiver, your eyes barely skimming the fine print.

Your species was known for being fast and powerful. But right now you felt reduced to a tamed house cat being led inside by treats.

The nurse stops in front of a nondescript door on the left, swiping their keycard. The door hisses open and she gestures you forward.

"In here."

Anxiety buzzes under your skin. You take a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself, and step inside.

The room beyond is brightly lit, every corner filled with a dizzying assortment of medical equipment. A single examination table is in the center of the room.

"Remove your clothing and hop on the table."

You did so happen to at least catch the part where your Doctor, would be your fellow test subject. A Hybrid desperately looking for someone to soothe his insufferable Ruts.

A Snow Leopard Hybrid.

The moment the door slides open again, your nose flares, overwhelmed by a scent so potent it makes your vision swim.

Spiced cedarwood. Frost-kissed musk. And beneath it all, something primal, something that burns straight through whatever suppressants he’s clearly drenched himself in.

The doctor’s gloved fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to claw something apart, maybe himself.

When those sharp hazel eyes finally land on you, his pupils overtake every inch of his eyes.

Your species was known for its speed, but Zayne moves too fast for even you. It wasn’t a total surprise when your drooling face was shoved into the paper cover of the examination bed.

The stretch from his cock took little more than a few seconds before your body accepted him. His glasses fog when he presses balls-deep in your slick hole. You want to be snarky, to say something about introductions but the slow drag out of his cock has you wailing.

The first drag inside you is a white-hot shock, barbs catching on your walls in a way that makes your whole body jerk beneath him. It's not pain, not exactly—just an overwhelming stretch-and-catch sensation that has your claws scrabbling against the examination table for purchase as Zayne’s hips snap forward with predatory precision.

Every backward pull of his cock tugs, every thrust back in sends those ridged barbs scraping deliciously over tender inner walls. He’s stimulating nerves you didn't even know existed until now. Your thighs tremble violently, breaths coming in shallow pants as he fucks into you with single-minded intensity.

When one rough snap of his hips grinds those barbs deep against your cervix, you roar. Your vision is spotting at the edges from overstimulation while Zayne’s grip on your hips turns near-bone crushing.

“Ovulate." His voice is guttural, jagged around the edges like speaking takes all his effort amidst the all-consuming need driving him forward.

Judging by the way your slick drips thicker down your thighs, it’s easy to tell you were in fact fertile.

This isn't how he intended it, he meant for this to be a careful, scientific test between Hybrids. He never expected his animalistic side to take over like this, leaving nothing behind except raw, primal need.

But there's no denying the way the animal inside him growls in satisfaction as he sees a mate in this vulnerable, submitting state underneath him.

His fangs glisten in the blue light before sinking into the junction between your neck and shoulder. You seize up, baring your own fangs but his body shadows yours. Lithe muscle and strong arms pinning you to the bed as his cock throbs inside.

He brings a hand up into your hair, wraps it around his fist and shoves your face first into the bed. The pure domination has your walls fluttering around his cock, gummy walls welcoming his seed.

You obviously knew where you were staying for the next 3 to 5 days.

⋆˚🐾˖° CALEB

You follow the nurse down the hall of the Linkon Medical Center, your tail tucked so tight to your body you're nearly stepping on it.

You need the money the Lab is offering for this test mate program. The bills are piling up at home and college tuition is killing you. But just being in the building is enough to make your stomach twist painfully. The place smells sterile and medical and cold, nothing like the fresh air and wide open countryside you grew up in.

Sheltie Hybrids, or any Hybrid that was meant to be out in farm land, hated cooped up places like this. At least you knew your potential Mate was canine. And a high ranking officer at that.

Your Sire would be proud.

That thought alone makes your ears perk up just slightly. A high-ranking canine, maybe even one from a good bloodline, the kind your sire would brag about at the weekly livestock auctions.

The nurse pauses outside a heavy steel door, inputting a code with brisk efficiency before turning to you with an expression that’s not unkind but far from reassuring.

“Subject X-9 is waiting inside," she says, voice clinical as she gestures for you to enter. “He’s been prepped and briefed on the procedure."

Procedure. Like this is some experiment instead of what it really is, a desperate gamble for survival disguised as "mating compatibility testing."

The moment the doors slide open, you’re met with the sharp, commanding presence of Caleb.

He’s not just a colonel in uniform. He’s all predator.

Belgian Shepherd Hybrid genetics have sharpened his already lethal frame into something even more dangerous, tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a warhound bred for combat. His fur is a deep sable-black along his arms and back, fading into rich amber at his chest where it blends seamlessly with skin.

Twin ears prick forward atop his head as he turns to face you fully and those purple eyes are no longer just piercing, they glow faintly in the dim light like wildfire behind glass.

He circles closer, sniffing once at your scent before rumbling. “Sheltie." He stares it like it’s not common knowledge to you. "Small. Nervous."

You try to harden your voice and clench your fist. “I-I ain’t afraid of you…” that cute southern twang makes Caleb bark out a laugh.

“That accent’s gonna get you in trouble here, little sheepdog," he chided, smirking when your ears flick back at the nickname. “Sounds too sweet for a place like this."

His thumb brushes over the line of your jaw.

“But keep lying about not being scared and I might just believe you.”

The moment his weight pins you down, your bravado crumbles.

Caleb looms over you, all thick muscle and dark fur, those glowing purple eyes locked onto yours as he growls, “Gonna take it all, Sheltie. Every inch."

You whimper, squirming under him as the blunt head of his cock pushes against your entrance. Too big, too much. Your tail flattens beneath you in submission.

"T-Tight—!" Your voice cracks when he notches himself deeper with a single ruthless roll of his hips. “C-Caleb—please—!"

Caleb IS a gentleman under all that military precision and ego.

"Shhh, easy..." He nuzzles against the side of your neck. "Breathe with me." He exaggerates his own breaths, chest rising and falling slowly until you begin to match him without thinking.

His free hand slips between your bodies, fingers circling where you’re stretched tight around him, flicking your clit, coaxing with deliberate strokes until the tension bleeds from your thighs bit by bit.

The moment his instincts fully take over, everything changes.

One second, Caleb is murmuring praise into your ear. And the next his claws dig into your hips. His teeth graze the back of your neck in warning when you squirm too much.

"F-Fuck—!" His voice breaks mid-thrust when his knot starts to swell at the base of his cock, stretching you even wider on the next push inside. For all his dominance just seconds ago, now he’s pleading. "N-Not yet—! Gotta… gotta knot ya properly first…!"

But biology doesn’t care about pride or rank or control, his hips jerk forward involuntarily as that thick bulge catches against your rim again and again until finally.

It pops inside.

And just like that? The proud Belgian Shepherd Hybrid collapses over your back with a shuddering groan, knot locked deep as hot cum floods into every last inch of your heat.

⋆˚🐾˖° SYLUS

Deepspace Labs - Breeding Wing, Sector 7

A heavy, metal collar rests against your throat. Sleek black and etched with glowing runes meant to suppress, not protect. Your claws twitch at your sides; the scent of antiseptic burns your nose.

They call this place sanctuary. A last-ditch effort to save a dying species through controlled reproduction.

“Subject D-7." The lead researcher’s voice crackles over the intercom as steel doors hiss open before you. “Proceed to Chamber Alpha for mate introduction."

Your tail lashes, a reflex of agitation, before you step forward into dim lighting that does little to hide the silhouette waiting across from you on raised platform.

He's massive, wider than any hybrid they’ve shown before, with horns curled back in sharp crescents and wings folded tight against his spine

His voice rumbles through chamber walls straight into your bones. “So, you’re my little salvation?"

The hybrid before you is Sylus, a name whispered in scientific reports like a myth, now flesh and scale in front of you.

It’s his eyes that scorch the most: crimson-bright and slit-pupiled, locked onto you with unnerving focus. The horns arching back from his forehead are obsidian-sharp; one wrong move and they could gut a man clean through.

“You smell nervous." His tongue clicks against roof of his mouth. "Don't be. I don't bite...unless you ask nicely.”

The scientists move quickly to prepare you both for breeding.

“Standard precautions," the lead researcher mutters as they fasten reinforced cuffs around Sylus' wrist. They strap a muzzle over his jaws just in case.

A collar hums to life around his throat, pulsing with containment runes meant to suppress fire-breath just like yours.

For you, they clip blunt caps over your claws and inject a muscle relaxant "to prevent aggressive reflexes."

Your eyes catch the gleaming lights of the cameras around you. Watching and studying.

The restraints shatter the second they lock the chamber doors. Black scales ripple over straining muscle as Sylus rises from the platform.

The muzzle dangles uselessly from one claw before being flicked aside like an afterthought; containment runes on his collar fizzle out beneath a fresh wave of smoke curling past his lips.

"Poor thing," he purrs. "All restrained for me, as if I’d ever let them keep you like this." A claw traces along the caps on your claws before he picks off each one.

His wings flare wide, blocking the cameras viewing ports.

The moment his cock presses against your entrance, you feel the burn. Scalding heat and ridges that shouldn’t exist. It’s thick, intentionally stretching you with every inch he feeds into your body. The tapered tip flaring slightly at the base in a way that makes your walls spasm instinctively around him.

Sylus hisses through his fangs, smoke puffing from his nostrils as he bottoms out finally "Tight," he rasps, "Perfect little mate."

His cock pulses inside you like it has its own heartbeat. The drag of textured scales along oversensitive nerves makes your thighs shake—

"—Again." He snaps his hips forward without mercy, burying himself to the hilt with a groan that rumbles. “Scream louder. Let them hear what they tried to cage."

From the first snap of his hips, your body betrays you, reacting on some primal, draconic level that no amount of lab-engineered suppressants could stifle. Your claws shred through the restraints like paper, talons scrabbling against the steel table.

The scientists panic, shouting muffled orders behind soundproof glass as the monitors blare alarms.

“She's supposed to be docile! The serum was—"

But they were fools. They'd assumed female dragons were safer, softer, more manageable.

Yet here you are: wings ripping free from their straps in a violent snap of membrane and scale, pupils thinning to predatory slits as you arch into Sylus’ thrusts with a snarl that rattles the observation glass.

Your tail lashes wildly before coiling around his thigh in an instinctive claim. The feverish need to clench, to take, to lock him deep until he spills everything into your womb overrides every lab-bred inhibition they tried stitching into your DNA.

The scientists thought wrong. You were never tamed. Now they realize too late what monsters they’ve really caged together.

Tag List: @chaemaire @purplemooned @vvi-vi @partypoison00 @l0st1nthedark @varpaat @boulder @space-trashlordd @hilliserose @rubylescent @joyfulyouthlover @lilacsandhysteria @cheezeandkrackers @zayneslover @slave-of-heaven @ladyanonreader @kiyadeleine @emowitchwithatwist @nixia1107-blog @aishabbbb @lordbugs @poisonivyae @embetie @mock-kett @nanamisgirly @imsaemi @exe-toby @rhickah @slutforsnowcrow423 @kageyaxaa @pumpk1n-gurl @anothergojostan @luvqi @juha18indeepspace @imhwajaez @matcha-m0chi @idiotboop @pomegranatesnapples @ajyoursgirl @raendarkfaerie @patchesofwork @diejager

mwphisto

LaDs SMAU: I’ve got a bit of an issue…

~ smut/crack SMAU where you have a very over reactive kitty and needs the guys to help

mwphisto

“K-kitten…”

You pretended not to hear him, dragging the vibrator back up towards his tip. You stared up at him, eyes wide with mock innocence as you held it right against the underside of his head. “You’ve been a bad boy, Sylus. Bad boys have to learn their lesson.” Sweat beads at his temple, sliding down his flushed face, collecting along his jaw before dripping to his heaving chest. “Kitten…”

He was cumming again, biceps bulging against the ropes you had used to tie him to his chair. The same ones he frequently used with you. “Hmgh-Fuck!” Sylus’ jaw clenched tight, head tossed back as cum splashed your face. You didn’t stop the vibrator, didn’t so much as pull it away from where it was pressed to him.

“Don’t pass out on me now, Sy. We’re not done yet.” He had lost count of how many times you made him cum, and could barely remember how he got here in the first place. But fuck did he love being at your mercy, sweet and submissive while you bullied his cock until he was drooling. “Y-yes ma’am.” Raw and ragged.

You grin up at him, licking your cum splattered lips but not touching whatever landed out of your tongue’s reach. “You’re starting to remember how to be a good boy, Sylus. I’m proud.” But you could see his eyes going glassy, lips parted and chest heaving as the overstimulation melted back into mind-numbing pleasure.

“But…” You turn up the intensity, watching his entire body stiffen as an unapologetically loud moan rips out of his throat. “...I am still displeased with the little stunt you pulled today.” He nearly got himself killed, then had the audacity to try and play it off. You had been livid – still were. “K-kitten I said… said I was sorry…!”

“That’s what you’ve said every time, Sy. I’m not stopping until your balls are drained.” You turned it up to its highest setting, not surprised when he unexpectedly came again. Each load was lessening in volume, he’d be shooting blanks soon. That was fine. That would be the only time you’d consider easing up… by offering your cunt.

“P-please… I need your pussy.” he choked, looking down at you with tears in his eyes, slowly leaking and mixing with the sweat on his skin. Your fist, the vibrator, his thighs were all covered in the last load. Poor baby, he really was running on empty. “And you’ll get it as soon as I feel you deserve it, baby.”

You dragged the vibrator directly over his slit, watching the stuttering gasp shake his chest. “But right now, you’ve still been a bad boy. So you’ll have to wait until I’m feeling a little more generous.”

Oct.22nd Sylus & Submission/Overstim — Masterlist

mwphisto

Here are some titty thoughts I have about Sylus as someone who has 42DDD boobs ଘ(´•3•)⊃━☆

🍒Sylus struggles to not stare. Low cut top with your cleavage showing? He’s sneaking glances. You start to laugh? He noticed the way they shake. You go without a bra? He is fighting demons.

🍒When spooning and you’re the little spoon, it takes every ounce of his willpower to not slip his hand under your shirt and cup your warm breast. It’s not until you drag his hand and put it there yourself that he quietly asks you if it’s okay. When he gets your permission? He’s mindless kneading your boob in his hand, dozing off instantly.

🍒Loves to suck little bruises on them. There is so much space to cover and you’re so soft. He loves squeezing one of your breasts and sucking on the fat of it, crimson eyes locked on your face as he adds yet another bruise to the constellation he was creating.

🍒Will motorboat your boobs when given the chance, face fully snuggled between the two of them before going a bit insane.

🍒Has sucked on your breasts in the backseat of his car, all while you tug at his aching cock. He blames the wanderer, you blame his inability to think straight when the wanderer sliced your shirt.

🍒Loves to hold them whenever you say your back is aching. One hand for each breast, a smile plastered to his lips as they squish and mold around his warm greedy hands.

🍒Will come home from a long, aggravating business deal and flop on top of you in bed. He’s yanking the hem of your — his — shirt up and slipping himself underneath. You can’t help but laugh as he buries his face between the valley of your breasts and mumbled something about rolling onto your side so they squish him.

🍒Combusts the second you lay on top of him, bare naked with your chest pressed into his. The way your boobs squish against him quite literally makes his quick-thinking mind short circuit.

🍒You once cheekily flashed him a titty while he was mid-business deal and his jaw dropped. To the point the other men in the room whirled around to see what could have shocked the infamous gang leader but his evol was quicker. Slamming the office door before they could catch a glimpse… honestly you almost them killed.

🍒Might act nonchalant about it, but if you offer him a tit-job? That man’s heart rate is jumping to the 200s, he is doing cartwheels in his mind. The “yes please, kitten.” That he responds with is somehow steady but in his mind he is high-pitched giggling.

🍒Titties sore because of your cycle? Don’t worry, suddenly Sylus is an expert masseuse. Aroma therapy oils, hot towels, heating pads, a bath run with muscle relaxing bath salts? Anything to make you feel better, and anything to get his hands on those pretty tits.

Don’t get me started on how ass/thigh/tummy obsessed he is…

kissandtellus

Siren’s Song

Synopsis: Being the last Siren Hunter, in the hands of your ‘prey’, is unnatural. But you must do what you have to so you can return to dry land.

Warning: Smut, two-cawks, Monster fudging (think of RAF as the size of the Lemurian Skeleton in the main story), talk of slaying mer-children, tummy bulge, oviposition, egg-laying, Reader is scared they won’t fit, size difference, breeding, Rafayel being smug about filling you up.

A/N: I feel like we don’t get to see just how a massive Lemurian’s are beside the skeleton. In RAF’s myth he’s obviously a bit bigger than us but I want our hugeeee merman:(

The pre-dawn air is thick with salt and the promise of a coming storm as you step onto the docks, your boots heavy against the worn wood. The sunrise has yet to even peak in the sky, casting only an eerie blue across the docks.

The ‘Saint's Wrath’ creaks in its berth, its dark hull already laden with harpoons and nets, your father’s silhouette moving methodically across the deck. Your family was the last of its kind, ones that actually had the bullocks to fight back against the monsters of the deep.

"You're late," your brother calls from the rigging, his voice sharp beneath the tolling church bells, a reminder that God watches even here, where blood runs more freely than prayer.

You don’t answer. Instead, you tighten the strap of your blade sheath and glance at the horizon where black water meets bruised sky. “They're getting bolder," you mutter as salt spray stings your cheeks. "More wrecks last night."

Your father pauses mid-motion before tossing another net onto his shoulder with a grunt, his silence louder than any agreement he could give.

This hunt won’t be like killing fish.

These ‘fish’ fight back.

Your boots scrape the wooden flanks of the ship. This would be your chance to prove yourself. To prove you could hold your own like your brother, despite being the youngest. When your mother was alive she would try to convince you that perhaps the Sirens weren’t all bad. Men were more evil, she would say.

When she died, you were forced to stay home. Cook and clean for your brother and father when they returned from Hunting. Most of the time their catches were smaller creatures. Barely older than you. When you would watch them hang limply from nets, your stomach would drop.

Your brother glances down from his perch in the rigging, his gaze raking over your smaller form with skepticism.

"You sure you're up to this?" he calls, his tone a gruff warning. “I seen the size of the last one we chased down. Damned near sank the Saint's Wrath.”

Your jaw tightens at the thinly disguised doubt, but you know better than to let it show. "I can handle myself," you mutter, fingers brushing over the hilt of your blade.

He snorts, unconvinced but he doesn't argue further as he tosses a coiled hawser to the deck below. “Then get your ass up here already. We're heading out."

The deck of the ship shifts under your feet as the crew makes final preparations for your hunt, securing lines and stowing equipment with practiced efficiency. The bells from the nearby town still ring out in peals, marking the hour with a chorus of holy purpose, contrast to the grim work that awaits you beyond the harbor.

The storm you rush into that night is brutal. The rain pelts strong against the sail, and the vessel jolts violently.

The wind howls like a wounded beast, whipping the rain sideways into stinging lashes against your skin.

The Saint's Wrath groans beneath you, wood creaking under the assault of waves that rise like black mountains before crashing down in torrents of salt and fury.

"Reef the sails!" Your father’s voice cuts through the chaos, raw from shouting over the storm. “NOW!"

Your brother lunges for the lines, muscles straining as he battles to rein in canvas gone wild with wind, but even his strength isn't enough alone. You don’t hesitate; you throw yourself forward, grabbing hold beside him as your boots skid across slick decking. For a heart-stopping moment, it feels like the ship itself might capsize… but then—

Not thunder. Not waves breaking against the hull... but something else entirely, a voice threaded beneath storm and sea that doesn’t belong to either. It slithers into your ears like silk and poison all at once, beautiful enough to freeze blood mid-pulse inside your veins that are already thrumming with adrenaline.

Nothing human could make a noise like that... unless it wanted you dead first.

Your father pales under lantern light when he hears it too.

He knows what comes next.

Hunters become prey.

The song makes your ears ring. Your hand drop the rope and immediately try to cover your ears. Your brother comes behind you, desperately clasping his hands over your own to keep out the Siren’s sound.

He was sacrificing himself for you.

The song is a Siren's Call in every sense of the word, seductive in the same way a snake is: beautiful… but deadly to touch. It fills the storm-tossed air like a seductive melody, wrapping around your senses and trying to drag you under.

"Don't listen," your brother growls above the song. "Don't you dare listen. You stay with me, understand?"

But then the ship slams to the side of a massive rock, tearing the side from the vessel. Your brother and father are thrown backwards, breaking through the railing and peeling overboard.

Your hands drop from your ears, and you wail, cutting through the Siren’s Song.

The impact throws you to the deck, wood splintering beneath you as cold seawater explodes across the planks. The Saint’s Wrath shudders like a dying animal, groaning under its own weight before lurching violently to one side.

"NO—!"

Your scream is raw, more instinct than sound as your hands scramble for purchase on the slick wood… but it’s too late. Your father and brother are already gone, swallowed by black waves and a storm that doesn’t care about prayers or hunters or last words.

The hull splits in two, and you are forced into the sea. The water encloses you like a brutal fist.

Your limbs thrash through the water, fighting desperately for the surface even as the storm does its best to drown you. The ocean closes around your body in a brutal grip, cold saltwater filling your lungs and weighing you down like lead. The ship tilts plunging into the depths a few feet away and suddenly you know you’re alone.

Your boots kick out against nothing but darkness. There are no oars left to row, no sail to steer, just the cold press of the sea all around you.

You are lost. Vulnerable...prey.

~~~~

You truly expect to see the gates of heaven when you awake. But instead you hear damned seagulls, and your back is pressed to a stone like you were laid out to dry.

You feel hands-claws more like-peeling back your blouse. You hear a small gasp and the soaked fabric slaps back onto your breast.

“A woman…?”

Your eyes fly open, gasping as you bolt upright only to collapse back onto the stone with a groan, every muscle in your body screaming from the fight against the waves.

The voice... it's wrong. Not human. Too smooth, too melodic even in its shock.

Blinking saltwater from your lashes, you finally focus on the figure poking its head from the Sea beside you.

The Siren.

His hair is wild, purple strands tangled with seaweed and ocean foam like a cursed crown of the deep.

His skin glows faintly under sunlight as if he is carved from moonlight itself.

But those hands? Those claws curling hesitantly near your torn blouse? They belong to something that drowns men for sport.

And yet when he speaks again?

There’s no song laced beneath his words, just something glistening in his eyes with childlike curiosity.

“A woman hunter?" His head tilts, gaze raking over you. “How…interesting.l

His tail, massive and light reflective, flicks in the ocean water. Your lungs burn, your eyes sting with saltwater. You try to push yourself up, to create distance between you and the monster.

Who was rather beautiful.

But wait…weren’t Sirens female?

If it's even possible, he grins wider at your reaction, a hint of pointed fangs showing beneath the curve of his lips. His head is tilting the other way as he watches you scramble back as far as the stone allows.

"Don’t be frightened," he murmurs, voice like the soft lull of the sea itself. His body is lean and lithe, all corded muscle beneath pale skin. He moves in closer, and you can sense the raw power coiled beneath that massive frame.

"You'll only exhaust yourself for nothing."

He closes the distance like a flash of silver beneath water, one hand catching your wrist and pinning it back to the cold stone with a grip that makes your bones ache.

Those claws gleam dangerously close to your throat as he leans over you, his face mere inches from yours.

"Though... I must admit," he hums, "I've never come across a woman hunter before. Especially not one so very...pretty.”

You kick weakly at the massive, broad creature before you. “D-do not touch me!”

The stone bruises into your back as he leans forward, a sharp-toothed smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Is that any way to talk to your savior, pretty girl?"He’s leaning over you like a shadow. His fangs glimmer, glinting completely clean. No trace of blood to be found.

The fin at the end of his tail flaps into the water. He’s heavy, massively so. Nearly 3 times the size of a normal man.

“Y-you killed my family…” your voice cracks as you gaze up at the beast.

"Killed... your family?" His brow furrows as he studies you with those dual toned eyes.

"I did no such thing," he growls, jaw clenching. “I found you drowning in the storm. I was...saving you."

You thrash, anger overriding your senses. “Your song! You made our vessel crash! It-it’s all your FAULT!” Your scream startles the seagulls, feathers and squawks follow your outburst.

His eyes flare at your words, sharper like a wave slamming into a rock. “Watch your tone, little hunter," he snaps, the words a growl against your cheek.

“I am not to blame for your carelessness. You were in the ocean during a storm. What did you expect would happen, hmm?"

“I heard your song…” your voice is weak, the droplets of water from his body mingle with your tears.

“You humans. So quick to blame us for your own misfortune." The waves around you lap at the rock you are splayed against. “Not every wreck is our doing."

He’s so close now you can nearly taste him, salt and sea and something dangerously wild.

“But since you insist I’m a monster…" A slow smirk curls over his fangs. He releases one wrist just to drag a claw down the side of your throat. "...Maybe I should act like one."

Your hand comes down in a fist across his jaw. But the action barely moves him. He doesn’t flinch. But the bones in your knuckles shatter, and you bow like a taunt string. “F-fuck!”

The Siren barely reacts to your pathetic strike, his face barely turns with the impact. But you feel it, the way your hand collapses against his jaw, bones grinding beneath skin.

Pain lances up your arm so sharply that for a second, you can’t even scream.

He watches you writhe, that cruel smirk never leaving his lips.

"Ohhh...now that was stupid, little hunter." He tuts. "But don't worry. I like my prey with a bit of fight left in them."

Your clutch your broken hand to your chest. Your lungs burn with water and agony. You curl in on yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. You wish you were back with your brother and father. In the comfort of your sea-side home. “Just kill me…” you whisper.

He stares down at your curled form, the way your body tenses against the pain. There's no mercy in his expression, but he sounds irritated. "Don't be so overdramatic."

He shifts above you, his hands coming to rest on the stone on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. "Just because you're injured doesn't mean I need to cut your life short. I'm not a monster, no matter what you hunters like to believe."

His bare chest ripples, the colorful tattoos color his flesh. You lay limp like you’ve already accepted death. “What do you want from me? Why did you save me…?”

He hums again as his eyes trace over your face. This time, the sound feels thoughtful.

"I suppose... I want many things." His gaze searches your face as if trying to find those words buried in your expression.

"But for now, I suppose I just... want you to look at me. Really look at me. And understand… that the ocean doesn't belong to you. It isn't your sanctuary. It's mine. Ours.”

His lips pull back to expose those sharp canines. He drags you lower on the rock so his body can dip back into the sea. You don’t even yelp, just lay like a fish out of water. “Do you know how many of our children you have slain?”

Your head weakly lifts. “They lured our men to watery graves.”

The monster scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. “Those guppies were barely old enough to find their voice. Every single one you have successfully slaughtered, were mere-children.”

Your eyes widen at his words. It perfectly explained why all of the Siren’s before were so small, your size or bigger.

Your eyes flicked to the beast. His long violet strands tickle your arms and cheeks. He’s…beautiful. In a way you can’t quite describe.

Your hand aches, now turning an ugly shade of purple and red that nearly match his aesthetic.

You scoot to a sitting position as he gives you space. Your legs ache, head throbs, and now your fist is shattered.

You were alone, on a rock, hundreds of miles perhaps from civilization.

“Now. Tell me what you want from me…” You whisper.

The waves crash behind him, spraying foam against the stone where you sit like some storm-tossed offering left for the sea to claim.

"You still think this is about wanting something from you?" His eyes drift over your broken hand, then back up to your face “You are in my waters now, little hunter." His hair pools around him like tendrils. “And I don’t drown pretty things for sport, even when they deserve it."

But the way his claws flex against the rock betrays him.

There’s hunger there.

And not just for flesh.

His clawed hands reach for your wrist and you flinch away like he might gnaw off your hand as a snack. He simply scoffs.

You hold your breath as his touch ghosts over your shattered knuckles, so gentle it’s almost maddening. His fingers are cold, like the deep sea he crawled from.

"Hm." His eyes flicker over your injury. “Your people would have splinted this wrong. Made it worse.

Without warning, his other hand grips your forearm to steady you as his claws press along the fractured bones.

A sharp crack echoes between you two as bone slides back into place under his guidance.

The pain is instant, blinding, but over just as quickly. Then he pulls away like he hasn’t just realigned your hand and made your entire body reset.

The best examines his claw nails like you aren’t in extreme agony.

“Don't thank me all at once."

But when he sees the fresh tears leaking from your eyes, he can’t stop the way his heart convulses.

“Can you…can you take me back to shore?” You know it’s a big favor for someone you blamed for the death of your family, but you were desperate.

His tail flicks impatiently against the water, sending ripples through the tidepool.

"You would trust me not to drown you halfway?" The question is a taunt, but beneath it is a challenge. “After all this time hunting my kind?"

He throws himself closer in one fluid motion, claws closing around your waist before dragging you flush against his chest. His skin is shockingly warm for something born from the depths.

"...Hold on," His tail coils beneath him in preparation to dive. "...And don't scream. Your weak lungs will fill with water.”

He dives back into the waters, and you try to hold your breath as long as you can. You truly expect the Siren to drown you, but the beast shoves what seems like an air bubble between your lips.

The moment your lungs burn something cool presses against your lips. His mouth? No.

A bubble, shimmering and strange, like liquid glass, passes between his lips and yours with a sensation that isn’t quite a kiss…but isn’t not one either.

Your first instinct is to choke, to cough it out. But then you breathe. And instead of saltwater flooding your throat, it’s air, fresh and sweet as if stolen from the surface itself.

His smirk is smug against your temple when he feels you go slack with shock in his arms, those clawed hands tightening around your waist as he swims deeper into the blue.

“Told you not to scream," his voice rumbles through the water directly into your skull like some underwater sorcery. “But it will not last long.”

In the distance, you can make out the outline of a cave mouth, a shadowy chasm lurking within the depths.

He guides you toward it, tail propelling you ever forward with a single focused power that makes your head spin.

As the cave swallows it, he pulls you closer to his chest.

"Relax," he hums. “I won't let you drown."

For some reason, those words make you shiver.

His head pops out in the underwater cave, just for real oxygen to hit your lungs. You give a slight gasp at the ornate decorations laid out. A bed of the finest taste, something you’d never seen in your life.

What use would a Siren have for a human bed? Your eyes travel to the other grand decor.

The cave gleams, soft bioluminescent algae clinging to the walls like living candlelight, casting an eerie glow over treasures piled high: gold coins spilling from cracked chests, jewelry draped over coral formations, even a few rusted swords that must have been plucked from sunken warships.

But the bed? That’s what holds your attention. It's lavish, covered in silks that shimmer with colors you didn’t even know existed beneath the waves.

The Siren doesn’t comment as he pulls himself up onto a flat rock ledge beside it, dragging you with him before depositing you onto its surface like some prized catch he can't decide whether to eat or admire.

His tail coils beneath him as he watches your face carefully for...something.

"You look surprised," he muses finally—claws tapping idly against his tail "What? Thought we slept in seaweed nests like animals?"

But the way his gaze lingers on your injured hand betrays just how much of this act is for show.

He’s waiting for your reaction.

And gods help him. Part of him actually cares what you will think.

The smirk curling his lips is downright smug as he watches you wobble like a newborn fawn, his tail flicking lazily against the stone.

“Oh? Did the mighty hunter finally realize she’s helpless for once?" He enjoys seeing you off-balance only because it means you can’t run.

Then his gaze drops to your ruined clothes, salt-stained and clinging to your skin in tatters. Those clawed fingers are suddenly snapping near your face, making you flinch back instinctively as a bolt of woven kelp and shimmering fabric materializes from seemingly nowhere into his waiting palm.

“Here," he grumbles, shoving it toward your chest with an impatient scowl that doesn't match how carefully he avoids grazing your injured hand. “Unless you'd rather keep wearing rags like a shipwrecked urchin."

Monsters shouldn't be this pretty. Or this generous.

You look at the monster and clutch it to your chest. “Can you…turn around?”

His lips purse, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face, but he complies abruptly, turning his broad back toward you with an irritated huff.

“Hmph." He pouts, folding his arms across his broad chest as if expecting you to attack him. “There."

He can hear your every breath. He can even hear the way your heart is racing.

Your clothes fall to the cave floor in a sodden heap as you slip into the dress. The fabric is cool to the touch, but comfortable, silkier than anything you've ever worn before, and somehow fitting perfectly around your curves as if tailored to your every inch.

But as your fingers come to the laces that need tying at the back, a sound makes you freeze in your tracks.

"Need help?" He is so close you can feel the words brush against your ear.

You jump, whipping around to find him directly behind you. If he's amused by your reaction, he does a good job of hiding it. He’s sitting on the rocks edge, massive body towering over you even with only his torso.

“Turn around," he instructs. “Hands up. I'll do the laces."

He finishes tying the lace and you turn towards him, hands coverings your chest like you feel far too exposed. “Thank you…”

His gaze flickers downward, just for a moment, taking in the way your hands clutch at the silken dress. You swear you feel his breath catch.

But then he's looking at you again with that infuriating smirk, head tilting slightly.

"Are you…nervous?"

It's a stupid question, and you both know it.

“You look like some blushing virgin bride."

Your face lights up and you scowl. “You-you can at least tell me your name before insulting me….” Your wounded hand hangs loosely by your side.

The monster grins. “Rafayel….”

Your cheeks heat, but you try not as best you can to ignore it, focusing on the name he's given instead.

"Rafayel," you repeat slowly, letting the unfamiliar syllables dance on your tongue. It sounds almost musical, like the sound of waves crashing on sand.

Thus begins the story of you and the Siren. Your hand starts to heal, and you make Rafayel promise to search the seas for any remains of your brother and father.

Anything at all.

Weeks pass. The cave becomes your reluctant home, its walls shimmering with stolen light as the tides shift outside.

Rafayel is gone for long stretches. Vanishing into the deep with only a mocking “Don't drown while I'm gone,” tossed over his shoulder before he disappears beneath the waves.

You learn quickly that he hates goodbyes.

But when he returns, it's never empty-handed.

Sometimes it’s food, exotic fruits from distant shores or fish so fresh they still glisten with saltwater.

Other times...it’s treasures dredged from shipwrecks: a rusted locket, a waterlogged journal, even a single boot that makes your breath catch before you realize…it isn’t theirs.

Rafayel watches you quietly each time, those multi-colored eyes tracking every flicker of hope in your expression before snuffing it out like a candle in the wind. "Not today," he murmurs whenever you look up at him expectantly and somehow, that softness in his voice is worse than any taunt could be.

He doesn’t apologize.

Because monsters don’t apologize for things they can't change.

One evening, just as the bioluminescent algae begins to glow along the cave walls, he drags himself onto your shared ledge with an uncharacteristic quietness pooling around him like ink in the water.

"...Found something."

His voice lacks its usual sharpness when he drops what looks like half of a shattered spyglass into your lap. It’s still crusted with barnacles but unmistakably theirs. Your fingers tremble as they trace over its broken edges because gods above…it was real.

Rafayel had actually been looking this whole time without once throwing it back in your face as leverage.

For once, there are no taunts on his tongue.

No smirks hiding behind claws too sharp to be gentle.

Just silence stretched between you two like an unspoken truce finally taking root beneath stormy seas.

That terrifies him more than drowning ever could have terrified you.

You can’t fight the sob that tears through your chest as you clutch your father’s spyglass. Everyone you loved, the last of your blood, was gone.

Rafayel flinches at the sound, like the sob itself had physically struck him. For a moment, he just stares at you.

In one abrupt motion he drags you against his chest with a growl.

His claws dig into the fabric of your dress, but not enough to tear. Not enough to hurt. Just…holding. Like if he lets go now, you might shatter.

“Quiet," he mutters into your hair, that was now kept braided by the beast. He insisted it would help the strands not become tangle with sea-salt. "Your crying is making my tail itch."

He doesn’t let go.

By morning the spyglass is gone from where it had been clenched in your fist all night, only for pieces of it to reappear days later on a thin chain. He gifts it to you one evening after dinner.

The chain is cool against your fingers, delicate but strong, woven from a material that is iridescent, that shimmers like moonlight on water. You recognize it as the same material that lines his tail, and the realization makes your breath hitch.

Rafayel doesn’t meet your eyes when he fastens it around your neck, claws brushing against the back of your skin with a gentleness that shouldn’t belong to someone born of teeth and saltwater. “There," he has you spin around to face him. "Now you won't lose it again."

He doesn’t say what you both know, that this is as close to an apology as monsters get.

As the night of the full-moon approaches, Rafayel grows more irritable when he returns from hunts. But the gifts he gives you become more extravagant.

You notice it first in the way his tail lashes against the cave floor like a caged storm. Restless , agitated.

His hunts grow longer, his returns more abrupt. Some nights he doesn’t come back at all, leaving only strange offerings in his wake.

A dagger carved from black coral, its hilt studded with pearls that glimmer like trapped stars.

A cloak woven from kelp so fine it feels like liquid against your skin when you drape it over your shoulders.

Even a circlet of twisted silver, too delicate for a monster who once sneered at human vanity, left on your bed of silks while you slept.

But then... he starts bringing live things.

A seahorse no bigger than your thumb, its bioluminescent scales pulsing gently as it curls into your palm before darting away into the dark water beyond the cave entrance

You name it Finn.

An octopus that shyly offers you polished shells every morning.

You name him Ink.

And once…once-even an injured merchild no older than ten summers who Rafayel carries in with a snarl about "Stupid guppies getting caught in fishing nets.”

You help him remove tangled rope from her tail before she slips back into open waters with wide-eyed gratitude.

You don’t get to name her.

But seeing you with a young mer-child makes something in him shift. The way your touch was gentle, how you promised her everything would be okay.

You realize how right Rafayel had been. She was just slightly younger-looking than the Merfolk your grandfather used to drag to shore. Your gut clenched at what those creatures last thoughts might have been.

The full-moon comes, and the morning of, Rafayel disappears into the depths. You are left alone all day. You find yourself drifting off to sleep alone.

Only to be awoken by the sound of splashing.

You jerk awake, heart hammering against your ribs, just as water sloshes violently over the ledge of your bed. Moonlight spills into the cave, painting everything in an eerie silver glow

And there he is.

Rafayel hauls himself onto the stone with a ragged gasp, his tail flicking water everywhere as he struggles for balance. His breathing is uneven and labored his skin flushed darker than you’ve ever seen it.

His pupils are blown wide, leaving only thin rings of fuchsia around them as his claws dig into the rock beneath him.

A shimmering trail of iridescent liquid drips from between the scales of his tail where they meet his hips.

Mating musk.

You swallow the terror in your throat. The Siren looks like he’s in agony. “Rafayel…? Are you alright?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice. His jaw clenches as he fights to look at you, claws gouging deep grooves in stone as he strains to control himself. “Don't…" his head lulls back, strands of his hair cascading over his muscles shoulders. "Please...don't get too close."

You've never seen him look so wild before. Like a feral animal struggling against his own instincts. His gaze is unfocused, and haunted, his muscles coiled so tightly it looks like it hurts.

You are crawling from the bed. Crawling to where rock of the cave met water. “You are sweating. And shaking…”

He growls, a sound so deep and feral it vibrates through the stone beneath you. His claws dig harder into the rock, his entire body trembling with restraint as he watches your every movement.

“I said," his voice is slipping into that same melodic tune you heard the night of the shipwreck, “Do. not. Come closer."

But you can see it, the way his pupils swallow any color in his eyes when your knees hit the damp stone. The way sweat rolls down his neck, making silver trails over that tattooed skin as he shakes.

This close, you can smell it too.

Salt and something muskier, something primal that makes the heat pool low in your belly.

You shouldn’t want this.

Your shaky fingers reach out to touch his cheek, and he snaps.

He seizes your hand before you can reach him, claws clamping around your wrist like a vice as he yanks you forward with a growl.

"Did I not say-?!”

His body smacks against yours, muscles coiled under his sweat-slick skin, as he brings your captured hand to his face with a snarl. His fangs are elongated. His nostrils flare as he turns his head to press his nose into your pulse. "...To not get close…?”

That’s when you see it. The way a line parts on his tail. Where not one, but two long, smooth lengths are struggling to peek through the opening. “What is-?”

His whole body goes rigid when the words leave your mouth. He can feel the way the protective layers over his organs part further. He cannot fight instincts this time.

"T-That…" he grits out, "...doesn't concern… you.”

You don’t move your eyes away. Your father always said taking your eyes off a predator for even a second could mean a death sentence. Your other hand dips to rub across that slit, and the simple action has the length’s springing to full length.

Exposed. And the you realize what they are.

He groans, a low, rumbling sound that makes your heart skipple at the same time your fingers brush the sensitive lengths. He shudders at the touch, body thrumming. "Little wench… please…don’t."

What are you doing?

Don't you know?

Don't you know he's trying not to claim you?

"It is a mating cycle," he growls "That's all… it'll pass."

He's lying, and you know it.

But you do not remove your hand and he doesn’t force you to. Your hand dips further into the water, soft fingertips gliding from the slit up each tendril. His head falls against your shoulder. Pleased and strained noises push past his quivering lips.

“They are…big..” your voice is hoarse as you fumble to wrap your hand around the bottom length, the slick flesh jumping in your palm.

His entire body jerks at the contact. "I—fuck—!" His hips buck violently into your touch. The water flows over the edge of the stone, drenching your night gown. "You…you do not understand what you're doing to me. What games you are playing.”

He could take you right here, could pin you beneath him and make sure no part of you forgets this moment. It wouldn't even be hard, not when the scent of lust is thick in the water between you both. Each ragged breath from him makes his cock throb harder against your palm.

“I wanted to help. Please…I can’t bear to see you like this.” Your other hand strokes his cheek, the glistening in the corner of his eyes is just evidence of how hard he’s fighting back mating instincts.

But then he’s pinning you against the rock, pulling himself above you. The lengths flop against the nightgown across your tummy and-

You fully see the sheer size of his cocks

"Look at what you've done," he snarls as he grinds them against your stomach, leaving twin streaks of slick behind. “Now feel what you're playing with."

His hands clamp down on either side of your head, claws sinking into stone like anchors Every inch of him is hot, practically oozing.

And those lengths. They're everything.

Thick and heavy and flushed dark under the cave’s eerie glow, their tips already leaking in anticipation. His hips twitch involuntarily when you gasp at the sight, like even that tiny sound has him fighting not to rut against you mindlessly.

"Do you still want to help?" His voice is mocking now, mocking himself more than you because who was he kidding? He lost this fight the second your fingers brushed his slit. No, no. The second he saved you.

“Still think they will fit inside that pretty little human cunt?"

You were no virgin. You’d had your roll in the hay with a man or two. But this, this was completely different.

Your breath hitched. You know they would not fit. No way your insides wouldn’t be turned to mush. “I want to…to try. To help…”

Then your thighs part, and his sensitive nose twitches. Fuck. You were ovulating too.

His Gods must be playing a trick on him.

His nose flares. His teeth graze your neck. "You little… you're—"

Fertile.

So fertile he could imagine that scent blossoming with a womb full of-

No. No he could not subject you to that. He would not-

“I want it…” you confession makes him lose it. But he knows he must prepare you. Thoroughly. Your body was not meant to take something of his size. No doubt two of them. “Why are there two…?”

Rafayel laps at your throat. “Because I was made to breed.”

The words rumble out of him like a dark, forgotten truth. His clawed fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you wider for his inspection. Your soaked gown is torn. He had stopped creating or fetching you new underwear long ago.

You had no need for him. When you shyly asked about what would happen during THAT time of the moon, Rafayel simply laughed.

‘Do you think I am afraid of blood, Little Pearl. You will bleed naturally. Like you were born to do. You do not see my people shying away from our bodies natural woes.’

That was funny, coming from someone who now was fighting every call of nature.

One of the lengths jerks against your entrance, already leaking pearly fluid as if impatient. “One… for filling." His thumb brushes over your clit. The claw catches on the sensitive hood and you yelp. "And one… for fertilizing.”

He is dragging you further down the slant of the rocks. Your knees are bent to your breast. He studies your lower anatomy.

Noting its differences to Merfolk females.

His gaze is ravenous while it roams over you. He’s taking in every dip, every curve of human anatomy so different from the scaled females of his kind. He traces your folds with the back of a claw, hushing when you jolt at the contact. “Soft,” he murmurs, almost to himself. "No scales… no protective layering."

A low growl rumbles through him as his thumb circles your entrance, testing its tightness before dipping just barely inside. "Fragile," he chuckles, watching how your body struggles to take even that much without proper preparation.

He’s already cataloguing all the ways he’ll have to be careful with you. All the ways this will hurt if he doesn't take his time.

But there was at least some common denominators. A weeping little hole and pretty pearl on top.

His nose flares again, inhaling the scent of your arousal like it's the only sustenance he needs. “And this-“

He rubs the back of his thumb against it, slow and deliberate like he's savoring the feel of that sensitive bud. It’s more fleshly and exposed. Which is odd for a Siren. All those sensitive nerves exposed like this. “That's just like a merfolk."

The flesh pulses and your face changes to a deep blush. "Pretty... and already so needy." He presses two claws to your mouth.

"Open."

Not a request. A commandment. "Lick them. Cover them with your saliva." His claws press to your lower lip. "Make them nice and wet, unless you want them to stretch you dry. And trust me. You do not want that,” he hisses. “You'll be too sore to walk for a week."

Your cheeks burn, the image of those long fingers filling you making your head swim with need, but you do it anyway.

You open your mouth...and lick. You taste the salt-mucus of his rough skin, savoring the way those claws scratch against your tongue. You cover them with saliva like he wanted.

He watches you with wide, unblinking eyes, lips parted slightly like it's taking every bit of his self-control not to take those digits from your mouth and replace them with something else.

He withdraws them, letting the claws scratch your tastebuds on the way out. His hand reaches for yours...and guides it down low.

His lengths are still twitching against the heat of your stomach like a threat. The moment your hand wraps around them, his eyes rolling back in his skull.

His head bows back, as is your touch is already more than he can take. "Feel that?" The one length is far too big for you to even clasp your fingers around. "You...you have no idea how long I've been fighting not to touch you like this."

His wet claws shift down to your pussy, teasing your hole that clenches around air at first, before slowly sinking inside.

You choke as his claws breach you. The stretch is immediate, the burn so sharp your back arches off the rock. He doesn’t stop, just watches with predatory focus while his fingers work deeper into that tight heat.

“Look at you," he praises "Already trying to swallow me whole. Greedy thing."

His free hand pins your hip down, keeping you still while your body tries to squirm away from the overwhelming intrusion.

"Relax," his thumb is circling your clit in slow, taunting strokes while his fingers crook inside you just right. “Unless you would like me to stop?"

But neither of you believe that lie. Not when his cocks twitch against your stomach in open jealousy. Not when every shallow thrust of his fingers draws another broken sound from both of you.

You are gasping from the stretch of his digits alone. Two fingers, roughly three and a half of yours for one of his, fuck you open. “I can’t-I do not know if-“

He hisses through clenched fangs—the sound pained while he watches you struggle around just his fingers. “Shhh…" His thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing tight circles to distract you from the stretch.You can take it…you will.”

He scissors his fingers inside you, stretching your walls further apart with every torturous movement. “Breathe," your muscles spasm around him.

A third finger teases at your entrance, his gaze locked onto yours when you clench down instead- "...or do not." And then shoves it in with one thrust that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

The stretch is agonizing The way his claws graze that spongy spot inside you is maddening. You’re sobbing now, half from pleasure, half from the sheer size of him working you open. But it won't even compare to what comes next.

Rafayel looks absolutely ruined by it, lips parted around ragged breaths. His cocks leak against your thigh in helpless sympathy for how tight you are.

For how good this must feel if just his fingers have him trembling above you like an untamed beast.

Your walls coat his fingers, betraying your tears. You are sprawled on the rock like an offering. His lengths that rest on your stomach go far beyond your belly button while he works you open.

His claws brush against that delicious spot inside you. “Can you feel how much I want you?" His claws are spreading to make you moan. “Do you feel how deep I am already inside you? How you are swallowing my fingers like the sea itself?"

The third finger helps ease you apart. “How do expect to take even one of my cocks when you are this tight?”

You don’t know, but...he seems determined to find out.

His free hand presses down on your lower stomach now, trying to gauge just how deep he is, how much of him he can fit inside you. "Relax." His voice is gentle. “I will prepare you. I will make you ready.”

And he will.

He finds the length of his fingers by pressing down on your tummy while curling his claws upwards.

“Found you," he’s chuckling, lips pressed to the space where the flesh perks from his fingers. They press against that spongy spot inside you. The moment he rubs against it, your back arches off the rock, a sharp cry tearing from your throat.

His free hand keeps pressing down on your stomach. Marking where his claws are buried deep inside your heat while his thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit.

You can see the outline of them beneath your skin, stretching you obscenely wide as precum drips from both of his neglected lengths onto your thighs now. "Look at that," his tongue lathers over your tummy. "Already making space for me. Greedy little thing."

He's done being patient.

His other hand pushes open your thigh and he squeezes a fourth finger in.

Your scream is muffled by the sudden crash of waves outside the cave, your body convulsing around him like it can’t decide whether to fight or beg for more.

Rafayel watches with his full attention,jaw clenched so tight veins bulge in his neckz

His thumb never stops circling that swollen bud though, not even when tears streak down your cheeks or when your whimpers turn into full-on sobs.

Will you even be able to walk after tonight? Doubtful.

He’s murmuring praises against your slightly bulging tummy in a language you don’t recognize. No doubt the language of his people.

But he’s not speaking to you, he’s speaking to your womb.

His lips brush against your fevered skik, whispering guttural words in a tongue older than human civilization itself.

The language of Lemurians, of hunters and kings beneath the waves, spoken directly to your womb like a vow.

"Kesha'li vanya…" You will take me so deep...

A claw traces the strained curve of your stomach where his fingers press from inside.

“Thalara shi’nath…" You will clench around me like the tide.

His breath is hot against you, possessive. Worshipful.

And then—darkest of all—a growl that vibrates through your very bones.

“Vi'shara teth mara.” I will fill you until you remember nothing else.

The promise in those ancient syllables is absolute. He finally lifts his gaze back to yours.

He removes his fingers, and you almost sob at the sudden emptiness inside you, legs spreading even wider as if begging for more.

He watches you through listful, hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips. You expect the taste of you on them, but he's licking something else.

"Taste it..." he rasps, reaching for your mouth with a single, glistening digit.

There's no way to describe the dark, satisfied noise he makes when your lips part on a moan and he presses that same finger, coated in your honey-slick, against your tongue. “You taste divine.” His tongue falls from his mouth like a dog begging for water. “Like something I’ve craved for eons.”

He’s dragging you to the waters edge until your hips dangle from the rock. The twin cocks are sliding across your tummy. He grabs the top one, running teasing strokes across your slit.

He's so much bigger than you.

Judging by the expression on his face, he knows it. He drags the head of his lower length through your honey, coating himself in your slick like it's sacred.

"Gods, you're...so small," he sizes you up. "So perfect. Are you scared yet?" His tone is dark, cruel even. "I'm going to break you."

And you have no doubt that he will. But even now, with your legs spread and your eyes wide, there's something else in your eyes that makes him stop mid-stroke.

Your expression is vulnerable—terrified...

He's not sure what to do with that.

"Are you afraid?"

Despite everything, the corners of your lips tremble into a smile.

"Of you?" Your voice is nearly a scoff despite the way you are shivering.

"Yes," he hisses, his tone thick with a challenge of his own. "I could break you. I could ruin you."

Rafayel is hovering over you like a shadow. "And you'd still smile at me like this."

You continue to smile with wobbly lips. “Then prove it.”

His pupils blow wide. “You dare to challenge me?"

The hand not pinning you down moves to the base of one cock, pressing the thick head against your fluttering entrance with deliberate, agonizing slowness. “Then take it."

A sharp thrust, just enough to stretch you obscenely around the tip.

You cry out, back arching from the stone. But Rafayel keeps you still.

"Easy…" he croons, his thumb rubbing gently against your clit as he's trying to soothe you, trying to remind you that this is gentle. Compared to what's to come.

"Relax, Little One. This will be easier if you just…Let. Go.” You feel him twitch against your entrance, his breaths ragged and harsh against your neck. "Take a deep breath," he whispers. "And then, when I tell you, I want you to exhale, and on the next breath, when I give you permission, I want you to breathe in deep and bare down.”

Rafayel kisses your forehead, lips cold and shaking. “I want you to push against me."

You choke back a sob but nod. “Y-yes…s’ hurts….”

"I know," he murmurs, the words barely being heard over your shaky breaths. His thumb never stops moving against your clit, slow and deliberate even as his cock inches deeper inside you. "But it will not for long."

Every shallow thrust burns so sweetly you swear it's carving him into your very bones.

"Breathe out… now push.”

His fingers tighten on your hip, his other hand pressing flat against your lower stomach so he can feel where he’s stretching you from the outside.

"Good," he coos when you obey, when your body instinctively fights to accommodate him even through the pain. “So good for me… just like that."

The praise is filthy, dripping with praise, but it works.

Your walls flutter around him, sucking him in deeper as if they can't help but try to take more of him despite the burn. “Fuck," he hisses, hips jerking forward without warning when that greedy little clench nearly undoes him right then and there. “You’re going to kill me."

He buries himself all the way in, watching your body sink onto his length.

You cry out. Feeling like your guts have been shoved to the side to make room. You can’t breathe, can’t move, can only sob in the cave.

He freezes, every muscle in his body locked tight as he lets you adjust, his breaths ragged against your sweat-slicked skin.

One clawed hand strokes up your trembling thigh. The iron grip he has on your hip is to keep you from squirming away.

"Breathe," he orders. "Just… breathe through it."

His hand slides up to press against where his cock bulges obscenely inside you, fingers splaying over the slight curve of your stomach like he can’t believe this is real.

Like he can’t believe he’s the one ruining you.

A low, broken sound escapes him when you finally suck in a shaky breath and clench around him instinctively. "Gods—!" His forehead drops against yours, fangs bared in a snarl that's equal parts pleasure and pain as he fights not to move. Not yet.

But patience was never a virtue of his kind.

And neither was mercy.

His hips roll experimentally, just once, just enough to make sure this won’t actually break you.

"Now you shall take the other one."

You wail and claw at his chest. “N-no please! You’ll-fuckin’ kill me !” You gargle when his cock feels like it might reach your throat .

Rafayel lifts your thighs to make even an inch of room in your cunt. “So dramatic, My Hunter. I thought you weren’t afraid?”

But oh you were so afraid when his second cock nudges next to the other. You wail, eyes clench closed. Rafayel laps at your cheek, bracing his forearms next to you. The stretch is unbearable. You can’t even fight back now.

Rafayel lifts a leg over one shoulder, chin to his chest as he watches how you take inch after inch. You are sure you must have lost consciousness a few times before he is seated as far as he can go.

You are so speared on his lengths like a trident, if he released your body you would still dangle helplessly.

Part of him wants to test it. Wants to watch you flail limply to soothe his pride.

He watches, mesmerized by the way your stomach distends with every shallow thrust. “Look at you…fucking ruined.”

He drags one claw down the curve of your belly, following where his cock moves inside. "Can you feel it?" he rasps against your lips before stealing another searing kiss. “How deep I am? How full I’ve made you?"

Your answering sob is muffled by his mouth, your nails scrambling for purchase against his back only to find hard muscle and scarred skin instead.

He finally pulls out just enough to snap his hips back in with a force that rattles your teeth.

You swear you see stars.

His mouth is on the junction between neck and shoulder. He does not want you to fade while wrapped so gloriously around his cock.

He murmurs an apology, and sinks his fangs in your flesh.

Blood drips from your wound, but it warms your body.

A fucking aphrodisiac.

You remembered your grandfather mentioning something about the Sirens and their poisonous tongues.

But now, you welcome the little bit of relief it gives you. Rafayel watches your mind go blank and your body ease around him from his bite.

He knows it's working, can see the tension ease from your body as the tension drains like water from a cup. His grip loosens until it's little more than a caress along your skin, his lips pressing gentle, apologetic kisses along your shoulder.

"Does it help?" he whispers as he slowly drags in and out. He’s still deep, still excruciating, but nowhere near as painful as before because of that single, sharp bite.

Your glazed over eyes is all the confirmation he needs.

His lengths pummel into your cunt. You’re drooling, fucked out in a way that makes you limp and pliant for the Siren.

Your body is no longer your own—it’s his. A wrung-out, trembling mess that takes whatever he gives with slack-jawed surrender. The stone scrapes your flesh, leaving intentions in their

Rafayel growls in approval, his thrusts turning deeper, hungrier as he watches you come apart beneath him. Your walls fluttering around him like they never want to let go.

“That's it. Take it all."

Every snap of his hips makes your vision blur, your stomach bulging from the sheer size of him stretching you beyond reason.

Your eyes disappear in the back of your head. Your toes are curled and you cannot ignore the burn growing in your lower extremities.

Your head thrashes to the side, the words spewing from your mouth barely make sense. “M’ gonna-Rafayel please-…can’t stop-“

His voice is rough broken glass. He's close. “Go on," he is breathless. "Release."

He buries his face in your neck, sinking his fangs in again as if he just can't get enough of the taste of you, your blood on his tongue, your body clenching around him like you're never going to let go. "That's it… that's my good Little Hunter."

You think you might get a taste of that later.

When the storm is gone and the fire has burned down. When there's nothing left but the echo of those dark words in your head and the ache in your bones from his mark.

Your body is aching, you do not know how much longer you can take his abuse. When you think you might tear from the stretch, he somehow grows even bigger at the base of his cocks.

“R-Rafayel-? What is-ohhhh!”

"Shhh—" His hips grind deep as the thick knot at the base of his cocks swells inside you, locking you both together with a wet, filthy pop. Your body convulses, overwhelmed, oversensitive, as he suddenly stills.

The first pulse hits like molten fire.

“F-Fuck! Rafayel-!" You sob his name like a prayer, your back arching off the stone as his seed floods into your womb in heavy, unrelenting spurts.

His claws dig into your thighs keeping you spread wide and impaled on him as he growls against your skin.

"...Taking it so well... such a good little mate..."

Every pump of his hips sends another wave of heat spilling deeper inside you until it feels like it’ll never stop.

Rafayel knows the next part will be the true test. If you will break or not. He’s pressing so many kisses against your throat and face you KNOW something is coming.

“R-Raf….?”

Rafayel’s face is scrunched is pain too, but you feel it.

The way an egg slithers down his shaft.

"Don’t.”

You feel it, the thick, slow slide of something far too large stretching you wider than ever before. Your body quakes beneath him, nails scrabbling against stone as a broken whimper tears from your throat. “Rafayel-! It’s—it won’t fit-!l

His teeth grit against the side of your neck.

“It will."

The egg pushes past the resistance, sliding deep inside you with a wet, obscene sound that makes Rafayel shudder above you. His cocks are twitching inside you, hell bent on filling you so full to burst.

You sob weakly at the stretch but then another follows behind it immediately. And another after that. Until every pulse of his cock drags another into place within you.

You are powerless to stop the flow of eggs filling your womb. The way your belly is stretching not only from his cocks, but the eggs he had laid inside.

A sick and twisted satisfaction washes over him. Your ancestors had slaughtered his people for decades, but now the only ruin, is what he has left behind in your cunt.

Tag List (if you’d like to be added, click here) : @chaemaire @purplemooned @vvi-vi @partypoison00 @l0st1nthedark @varpaat @boulder @space-trashlordd @hilliserose @rubylescent @joyfulyouthlover @lilacsandhysteria @cheezeandkrackers @zayneslover @roual @slave-of-heaven @ladyanonreader @kiyadeleine @emowitchwithatwist @nixia115 @aishabbbb @lordbugs @poisonivyae @embetie @mock-kett t @nanamisgirly @imsaemi @exe-toby @rhickah @slutforsnowcrow423 @kageyaxaa @pumpk1n-gurl l

#lads #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads smut #rafayel smut #lnds rafayel #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #love and deep space rafayel #lads smau #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel qi

heartz4angels

sweet guys with big dicks ! ۶ৎ

he likes taking care of you. in and out of the bedroom. it doesn’t matter if it’s a small or big action—it never fails to make your face heat up, the way he coos whenever you avoid eye contact. he makes you feel loved, which isn’t something you’re too use to.

but with him, you’re going to have to.

especially when he’s pressing kisses to your tear stained cheeks, scarred hands squishing your waist and playing soft skin. three orgasms in, and he’s tapping your twitchy clit with the tip, face flushed and expression happy as ever. it get on your nerves—he had you shaking and twitching, and has the nerve to comment on how pretty you are.

“you’re doing so well,” he hums, and his eyes flick down to your hips. the couch is definitely ruined. he’ll clean it later when you’re napping. “i think you’re ready.”

he’s been holding off for a while now. you know that for a fact; you’ve seen the goddamn dick print whenever he walked around in nothing but his sweats, hair messy and mussed from sleep and toothbrush hanging from his mouth. you’ve felt it whenever he just ‘wanted to feel you’—and would proceed to grind and moan against you like you were a deity.

and while you aren’t one to be embarrassed so easily (lie), you flush and glance down, visibly shuddering.

“that is not. going to fit.”

and the way he giggles at you? you’re fucking dead.

“i hate you—mmh! i hate you, i hate you-”

“you’re so cute.” he moans right into your ear, hips stuttering as he tries to catch his breath. the sounds coming from your body that were a result of him pushing back in, making your eyes roll, were outright pathetic. if you were in your right mind, you’d be ashamed of yourself.

well, you were ashamed, but your brain had turned into mush by now. you couldn’t put much thought into it when your boyfriend was rearranging your guts, and you swear you hear angels singing when he presses his weight down and stays there.

“haah . . . i told you i would make it fit.”

it would be easier to hate him if his smile wasn’t so bright—so pleased and loving as he watches your eyes roll back when you cum.

— kamado tanjirou , MIDORIYA IZUKU, YUJI ITADORI, HAKUJI/akaza, MARK GRAYSON ; all of your favs if you want lolol

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible #mark grayson smut #kny smut #akaza smut #akaza x reader #yuji itadori x reader #jjk smut #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha smut #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro kamado smut #kamado tanjiro

heiibo

#abby #abby saja #looking #looking very much

driftd0ll

Prone bone with Dirk/Clarence bc he can really go deep inside you while also feel your body against him, with all the little reactions you make as he presses his chest flat against your back

-🌀

goddddd yes!! honestly, this mixed with mommy kink?? where he’d hiccuping, burying his face into your skin, relentlessly and clumsily bullying his dick into the deepest parts of you? His voice breaks and sounds raspy as he sniffles, eyes red and teary as his fingers dig into you, the full weight of his body keeping you nice and under him

#date everything #date everything smut #date everything x reader #date everything x reader smut #date everything x you #date everything dirk #date everything clarence #dirk x reader #dirk smut #clarence x reader #clarence smut

starhvney

NSFW ALPHABET WITH GENE AND/OR LAURANCE PLEASE!

Kisses you passionately…

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mys laurance

𝐀/𝐍: i will also do one for gene, don't worry! i’m currently in a very strong laurance obsession (when am i not, honestly), so i decided to do him first hehe

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

#aphmau #mystreet #aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #aphmau laurance #laurance x reader #laurance zvahl #laurance zvhal x reader #mystreet laurance

iamactuallysocute

SAJA BOYS x HUNTR/X’S ASSINTANT!READER 10

Y/N my shayla :(

cw: implied female reader, she/her used, cursing, injuries and describing them in detail, I don’t know shit about taking care of deep cuts so tell me if I wrote bullshit or blame google for misleading me, some genuinely creepy shit, unfairness, men masturbating, mentions of: murder, boners, jerking off, stealing underwear, boys kissing, sex, group sex

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #the saja boys #kpdh x you #romance kpdh #romance kpop demon hunters #abby kpdh #abby kpop demon hunters #mystery kpop demon hunters #mystery kpdh #baby kpop demon hunters #baby kpdh #jinu kpop demon hunters #jinu kpdh

iamactuallysocute

i’ve had this idea for a little while and wanted to share it with you.

what would happen if assistant reader said to each of the saja boys “who’s a good boy?”

like who would genuinely respond with “it’s me, right? i’ve been good, yeah?” and who would be just baffled to hear those words be spoken to them?

just a funny little idea i had! also i love your writing and your series!

“WHO’S A GOOD BOY?”

AN: I’m so sorry love I know you said assistant reader but I loved the idea way too much to make it with a still unstable relationship, this way it can go into something way more intimate, in the sweet way. We can say this is not assistant reader, or assistant reader after getting into a relationship with her boys.

cw: implied female reader, dom!reader, no actual p in v anywhere but heavy nsfw, jerking off, almost-shower sex, almost-footjob, dry humping, Mystery getting a little wild

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #the saja boys #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpdh x you #romance kpdh #romance kpop demon hunters #abby kpdh #abby kpop demon hunters #mystery kpop demon hunters #mystery kpdh #baby kpop demon hunters #baby kpdh #jinu kpop demon hunters #jinu kpdh

writingalphabetsoup

18+ mdni

izuku midoriya loves giving head. he loves suckling on your pretty little clit, loving the way you jolt against him as he circles his tongue around it. he loves licking thick flat stripes up and down your folds, prodding his tongue into your dripping hole.

izuku midoriya loves the way your thighs squeeze around his head and how your cunt quivers for him when you’re close. he loves when you ride his face unabashedly, grinding and humping his tongue as your fingers card and tug on his hair.

izuku midoriya loves the way you moan his name for the upteenth time that night, his cock growing impossibly hard against his limited edition all might boxers. he loves the way he can make you scream just from making out with your pussy, loads upon loads of sticky semen dribbling out of the fabric of his boxers as he brings you to your nth orgasm.

izuku midoriya loves cleaning up between your thighs with his tongue, overstimulation wrecking you. and he especially loves planting a final kiss to your puffy clit as he murmurs how good you were for him.

188 words

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #deku x reader smut #izuku x reader smut #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku smut

iamactuallysocute

I know she was supposed to be riding his ABS butttttt....Oops my hand slipped

anddd So did she

so anyway heres the promised kiss too

OH. MY. GOD. My stomach literally flipped I’m not even kidding. It’s still flipping around when I look at it. Omg. Utterly speechless rn. Holy fuck you’re OTHERWORLDLY I love you.

saltyafterhours

#delicious #how you draw him reminds me of Asmo from Obey Me #OUGH the slight tears and him trying to hold back from fully going demon form and fgdjsdkm #eating your art and leaving no crumbs #saja boys #kpdh #the saja boys #kpop demon hunters #romance kpdh #romance kpop demon hunters

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