#lnds zayne

[nixdvn]

my man (old art)

[spacekittiesmeow]

zayne dry humping you when you're ovulating. cw. MDNI! explicit content

"ngh just the tip zayneee."

"no."

you whine, thighs quivering in need. still, his thrusts don't stop. his cock glides over your slippery folds, teasing your throbbing clit

"one of us has to stay sane to avoid the consequences." he retorts, rubbing his tip to your sopping entrance but never quite slipping in.

"asshole." you groan in frustration. he lets out a small laugh.

"forgive me." his lips find your nipple, closing around it in apology. the moan you let out is borderline pornographic, earning you a deep suckle and a hum of approval from him. your back arches, grinding involuntarily against his insanely thick cock.

"how is this fair?" you yank him up by his hair. he lets go of your nipple with a soft whimper.

"i wish it were, darling." he tilts his head to kiss the inside of your wrist, making you ease your grip. "but you do keep pulling every condom off me."

you bite the inside of your cheek. "...true."

he angles his cock to nestle between your syrupy lips, hips moving again to rub deliciously against your clit. your cunt pathetically pulses around emptiness, oozing out sweet honey.

"you'll give it to me next week." you demand.

"understood." he murmurs, tongue sticking out to circle your nipple before pulling it back in his mouth.

"raw."

"...raw." he repeats, ears turning red. the words vibrate around your nub.

"and you'll come inside me." another drag of his cock between your folds.

his teeth scrape over your nipple. "i won't leave you wanting."

"you promise?"

"i promise."

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[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.

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[feelthemadnessinside]

Zayne gives the most intense orgasms simply because he’s not afraid to get messy- he will literally dig into your hole till he finds the spot he knows houses the bundle of nerves he wants to stimulate for an orgasm that almost knocks you out. And then he’ll brutalise that spot;

The moment he has you spread open- thighs pushed wide, knees nearly to your chest- he sinks two fingers deep in one smooth thrust, searching with the calm focus of a man who has memorized every map of your body. The wet, obscene sound of him working into you is immediate and absolutely lewd. He curls, presses, drags the pads of his fingers along your walls until he finds it: that swollen, spongy spot that makes your spine snap tight and a broken moan rip from your throat.

“There,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, almost clinical. “That’s the one.”

Then he latches on to it.

No amount of begging or scratching will make him relent as he stimulates you incessantly- not the sloppy, cruel fingering popularised by cheap pornography, but in firm, methodical and purposeful movements that bring about the pleasure that drowns the pain of overstimulation, never once loosing their surgical precision even as desire mounts.

He anchors his other hand on your lower belly, pressing down to hold your squirming hips in place while he strokes that bundle of nerves with slow, deliberate drags. Each press-and-rub is firm enough that pleasure borders on pain, slow enough that you feel every ridge of his rough fingertips, the rough texture of his surgeon's callouses. The pressure builds like a storm gathering behind your eyes. Your walls flutter and clamp around him, but he doesn’t slow. He simply adjusts the angle and keeps going, relentless.

You buck. You claw at his wrist, nails digging crescents into his skin. “Zayne-fuck!!... too much, I can’t-”

“You can.” His voice is calm, almost gentle, even as his fingers piston against that spot with an almost sadistic flair. “Breathe through it. Let it take you.”

The overstimulation burns, white-hot and overwhelming, but beneath it the pleasure is molten. It drowns everything. Your thighs shake violently. Slick gushes around his knuckles, dripping down to soak the sheets, coating his palm, running down his forearm in shiny trails.

He doesn’t care.

He never flinches from the mess. If anything, the wetter and filthier you get, the darker his eyes become, mouth open as he wonders just how can you drip so much just from his fingers.

A third finger joins the first two. The stretch is sudden and perfect. He curls all three against that spot in tight, rhythmic presses- almost like he’s milking it- and your vision whites out.

The orgasm crashes into you so hard your back arches clean off the bed, a silent scream caught in your throat. Your walls spasm violently around his fingers, but Zayne doesn’t stop. He keeps stroking, firm and steady, dragging every last pulse out of you until you’re sobbing, shaking, gushing helplessly on his hand.

Only when your voice cracks into a wrecked whimper does he finally ease off- just enough to let you breathe, never fully pulling out. His fingers stay buried deep, gently petting your fluttering walls while you twitch and leak on him.

He leans down, lips brushing your ear to plant a fluttering kiss that seems more mocking than soothing, voice rough with restrained lust.

“So good for me...see? I told you you'd like it." he says before straightening up. "But that was only the first one. I’m nowhere near done finding out how many times I can make you break tonight.”

He smiles, and you shudder, your legs falling open helplessly even though you have no energy left.

[bo0nngie]

🐇☃️

[ayamikasai]

Valko

I AM OFFICIALLY IN THE VALKO PACK

AWOOOOOOOOOOO 🐺

[calebunny]

♡ Tight fit ♡

LI:  Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, & Caleb Synopsis: The lads men lose their minds when they catch you wearing their clothes. Warnings/Tropes: Explicit, MDNI. Established Relationship, Size Difference, Dubious Consent (Dubcon), Somnophilia (Xavier), Oviposition/Egg Insertion (Rafayel), Spitting (Zayne), Fingering, Degradation, Praise Kink, Overstimulation, & Rough Sex. (holy kink list-) WC: Roughly 800 words per LI. ♡ Bunny's Note: Since you guys loved the Sylus version so much, here is the rest of the boys! Valko's version here!₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ 

Xavier Ი𐑼₊⊹

Xavier had just finished up with a mission, eager to head back to his sweet girl and sleep the exhaustion away. He walked into your apartment, the door clicking shut softly behind him as his eyes immediately landed on your figure. You were curled up on the sofa, looking like you had fallen asleep right in the middle of a show. The TV was still on, its changing lights illuminating the soft contours of your face and body. 

He stepped closer, intending to wake you up gently, when he realized what you were wearing. Clad in nothing but his white hoodie, there you were adorably snuggled up, the fabric big enough on your frame to act as a makeshift blanket. His heart melted at the sight, but a sudden, hot wave of possession curled low in his stomach right alongside it. 

He hadn't realized until this exact moment just how much he loved seeing you in his clothes. 

Crouching down to your level, he slowly slid his arms under you and lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. The sudden shift in position caused the hoodie to ride up your thigh just a little, exposing the lace of your underwear. Xavier’s eyes visibly dilated at the sight. 

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing tightly as he tried his absolute best to ignore the throb in his pants. Forcing himself to focus, he carried you down the short hallway into the bedroom so you could continue your rest comfortably. You shifted slightly in his hold as he carefully lowered you onto the mattress, but you didn't wake up. Xavier climbed in right next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him until your back was pressed perfectly against his chest. 

But the thick ache in his trousers wasn't getting any easier to ignore, and the temptation right in front of him was too much. Giving in, he let his hand roam. The hem of the hoodie was completely bunched up at your waist now, leaving your lower half bare. His palm slipped beneath the fabric, tracing the warm curve of your waist before moving upward until it rested over your breasts, which were rising and falling in perfect time with your breathing. He let himself gently caress you, his fingers squeezing the soft mounds and playfully flicking your nipples, remaining careful and quiet so he wouldn't disrupt your sleep. 

Eventually, though, his hand traveled lower, his fingertips ghosting over the flimsy lace right where your sweet cunt was hidden. He shouldn't.

You were sleeping so blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that you looked oh so fuckable in in his clothes. But as his fingers grazed over the fabric, they brushed against a wet spot.

Fuuuck He was going to anyway.

He pulled the flimsy cloth to the side, exposing your bare, flush folds to the cool air as he lightly rubbed you. Using two fingers to spread you open, he felt a fresh wave of your syrup leak over his knuckles. You wouldn't mind, would you? 

He dipped his digits entirely inside you, the sudden, slick stretch causing you to let out a soft, subconscious whimper in your sleep.

“You take me so well even in your sleep, my star,” he whispered as he curled his fingers just right, intentionally hooking against that sensitive upper wall, earning a tight, involuntary squeeze from your walls. 

“Aw, looks like she's answering for you instead.” He fingered you languidly for a while, content with the quiet, sleepy moans slipping past your lips and how incredibly receptive your pussy was for him even in your dreams. 

Eventually, the friction and the sound of your slick walls coating his fingers had him hard enough to be painful. Juust the tip, he told himself, as he lined up to your entrance and prodded his way inside. But your poor hole, despite all the lubrication, had a hard time accommodating to all his girth. The way your body clenched hard around him– almost pushing his cock right back out– made Xavier throw every last shred of his rationality right out the window. 

So the man gripped your hip tightly and slammed his hips forward, shoving his entire length all the way in.

And this was where you finally woke up. “HAH– Xavier??!”

“I'm sorry– ngh– I just couldn't help myself,” he gasped out, his eyes dark and totally blown out as he immediately started an unforgiving pace, holding you in place by your hips as he fucked you deep.

“Wait– t-too big!” you cried out, your hands blindly reaching back to find purchase on his arms.

But he was far, far gone. He leaned over you, biting and sucking hungrily on your shoulder, leaving dark marks and bruises where his hands were pinning you to the mattress.

“You can't complain now, starlight,” he groaned against your skin, his thrusts hitting your sweet spot with a relentless  rhythm. “It's almost like you did this on purpose. Wearing that... your pretty little pussy was practically begging to be filled.”

Zayne ❄︎⛄︎

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel, water droplets still trickling down your hair and shoulders. You made your way into the closet, intending to get dressed, when something caught your eye. There it was, Zayne’s favorite black shirt, neatly folded in one of the laundry baskets. Something about it was.. tempting. Zayne wore it practically all the time; you even suspected he owned multiple identical pairs. You wondered why he was so attached to it, so you figured you’d steal it for the day. 

The moment you slipped it on, all your questions were answered. The fabric was incredibly comfortable.  When zayne wore it, it looked like an exact fit, perhaps even tight around his broad shoulders. On you, however, unbuttoning just the top two buttons caused the collar to droop completely past your frame, revealing an expanse of skin and one bare shoulder, while the hem practically reached down to your knees. 

Content with how it smelled like him, you padded over to the kitchen to fix a snack for the two of you. You assumed he was still working in his study and planned to pull him away for a break, showing off your new outfit while you were at it. But it seemed he beat you to the punch. 

Zayne had just wandered into the living room, seeking a much-needed break from his desk. It just so happened that when he walked into the kitchen, he found you in a rather… interesting state.

You were tiptoeing to reach something on the top shelf, causing the hem of his shirt to ride up and expose the curve of your ass. A faint blush dusted the tips of Zayne's ears at the sight. Seeing you drowning in his shirt made him feel things he was unprepared for. Like he wanted to protect you from the world, yet devour you all the same. The rush of it all went straight down, a very obvious bulge now straining his pants. 

He closed the distance silently. He planted one hand firmly on your hip while his other hand came down to give your rear a firm, sudden squeeze. You squeaked at the contact.

“I see a little thief is on the loose” 

You were propped up securely on Zayne’s lap, your legs straddling his hips as you gripped his shoulders to keep your balance. The black shirt, now unbuttoned almost entirely down to your navel, bunched around your elbows, leaving your chest completely bare and your nipples peaking against the cool air of the room. 

His large hands anchored your hips, effortlessly lifting your weight up before pulling you right back down onto his fat cock. 

“zaynie..,” you whimpered, your walls clamping tight around the massive stretch of him, while the man in front of you looked utterly concentrated, his gaze fixed on the way you took him in. 

It seemed to just now click in his head that you were, in fact, much smaller than he is. Suddenly, all those initial times of intimacy, where you struggled and sobbed over his dick, made much more sense. Back then, he had just chalked it up to your inexperience, and also obviously that he wasn’t exactly a petite man. Yet for some odd reason, he hadn't realized the true extent of it. Until now, that is. 

He drew your hips up again, just to snap them right back down. “Such a good girl for me, working so hard to take my dick.”

He leaned over to grip your face, his other hand curling at the base of your skull. “You deserve a reward, don't you?” Your eyes had completely glazed over, and you nodded your head frantically. “Stick your tongue out, darling,” he prompted, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. You obeyed without missing a beat.

And he spat right in your mouth. “Swallow.”

The contact made you tip over the edge instantly, his taste making your pussy spasm uncontrollably, yet you tried to focus and do as he said. You swallowed dutifully with an audible gulp, showing him the evidence by sticking your tongue out once more.

Zayne smiled, thoroughly satisfied by your obedience, and he caught you in a wet kiss, sucking on your exposed tongue, his own soon joining in.

He loved the way you molded to him and his cock.

Rafayel ｡˚○ ⚓︎

It was three days to Ebb Day, and this came with the severe consequence of you being utterly tied to your lover, rafayel. 

He had wanted to hide away at first, just like he did every single year, terrified that he would be too rough, too intense, and simply too much for you to handle. But after a whole shitload of convincing and a few heated preliminary rounds in the initial days leading up to it, Rafayel had finally agreed to let you stay with him through this. 

You had just finished yet another grueling session with him in the shower. Knowing he wanted to enjoy the coolness of the water for a while longer, you stepped out early, craving some much-needed rest and a brief moment of alone time before your needy boyfriend came back begging to fill you up yet again. 

After getting dressed, a violent shiver ran through your body. The flimsy material of your t-shirt and shorts did absolutely nothing to spare you from the freezing temperatures Rafayel had set his home to, a desperate counter-measure for how much he was constantly burning up. In hindsight, you really should have brought warmer clothes. 

Not thinking twice, you reached over and stole Rafayel's cardigan, which was draped haphazardly over a nearby chair. The material was thick enough and big enough on your frame for you to completely wrap yourself up in it, a little consolation against the biting chill. Wrapped tightly in his scent, you relaxed onto his sofa, playing some random TV show as you zoned out. 

After an hour or so, Rafayel finally walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a low-hanging towel draped around his lean waist, immediately seeking out your whereabouts. When he did eventually find you, lazing over in the living room, all his instincts flared up into overdrive the second he saw what you were wearing. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. All fucking mine.

He closed the distance instantly. Noticing his sudden presence, you looked up and chirped, “oh hey! How was your showe—” He didn't even let you finish your sentence. Rafayel pinned you flat against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered on top of you.

“I must say, very brave of you to wear that in my current condition, Miss bodyguard.”

Rafayel was rutting into you at an intense pace, already at it for hours since he stepped out of the shower, his stamina seeming to be completely bottomless. He had you pinned helplessly beneath him in an obscene mating press, your lower half spread out completely as he relentlessly used your already spent, aching hole. 

“You humans... so fragile, so small,” he hissed out almost wondrously, his voice a breathless purr as he watched the friction of his movements. “Yet you can still keep up with me, cutie.” 

You weren't even sure what he was talking about, because in your own head, you could barely keep up at all. All you could do was lay limp and twitching while his hands moved you into whatever positions he wanted you to be in. 

But this time, rafayel had other plans with you, mind filling with all sorts of filthy thoughts, especially those involving how your little body would bulge out with all the eggs he was going to put inside you. 

Without a single word of warning, he pinned your thighs deeper into your own chest, forcing your knees up on either side of your face before he suddenly stilled. Pulled out of your dazed state by the abrupt pause, you looked up at him confusedly, opening your mouth to speak before the words dissolved into a half scream, half moan.

“AHH– raf why is it– ack!” you were unable to move under his tight hold, “why is it growing??!!!”

“Shh– it's okay, cutie. c’mon... I know you can take it,” he cooed softly. He reached up, stroking your flushed cheek with a gentleness that felt entirely contrasting to how harshly his thick dick was stretching you out, practically breaking you.

Right as you thought you couldn't take any more, he stretched out fully, his tip slipping into place against your sensitive cervix as a singular egg intruded its way deep inside you. The round, distinct outline became instantly visible through your skin, your lower belly visibly bulging outward to accommodate everything being stuffed into your womb. 

“Raf- hah-” your nails dug harshly into his shoulders, not realising you were drawing blood. Yet the dazed lemurian was too lost in his own greed, warm hand sliding down to caress over where the egg perfectly slotted inside you.

His eyes darted back to your face, pupils blown out to the point where he looked insane.

“Can I do that again? Pretty please?”

Caleb ૮･ﻌ･ა ⌯⌲

You just reached back home after dropping a book off at your friend’s house, walking through the front door and slipping off your shoes. Passing by the living room, you saw Josephine still watching TV, exactly as you’d left her. You quickly ran up the stairs, eager to finally snuggle back into your blankets. 

But walking into your room, you were instead met with Caleb sitting on the edge of your bed. His hands were folded, a deep scowl etched onto his face— yet it flickered into something different for a fraction of a second when he looked up at you. . 

Earlier that day, he had just gotten done after hours of brutal studying, so naturally he went looking for you. But when he asked Josephine, he was met with the fact that you had gone over to a friend’s house to drop something off. Specifically, the one guy Caleb already had a faint idea was interested in you.

Caleb was seething about it too, planning all sorts of endings for the guy, and more importantly, all the ways he was gonna thoroughly discipline you before you ever thought about going to another man’s house again. 

Yet when you walked in, seeing what you were wearing, his anger seemed to melt off just a little. You were wearing your usual jean shorts and a t-shirt, but those were unimportant. What really caught his eye was the fact that you were wearing his D.A.A. jacket. 

“Oh caleb! Wat’cha doin’ here”, you asked, flashing him a confused smile. 

Caleb tilted his head, his frustrated expression melting into a slow, cocky smirk. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he thought. Sure, you had stolen his clothes before, and Caleb absolutely loved it when you did– doting on how cute and small you looked in them, sometimes even not-so-subtly encouraging you to wear them despite all your own clothes being clean and ready in your closet. 

Oh but this time, it was something about owning you, he thought. Something about his claim on you being visible in front of everyone, especially the men who thought they actually stood a chance with you. 

He definitely wasn't mad anymore, but the painful wedge in his pants wasn't gonna let him drop what he had planned. 

Your back was pressed hard against his chest, your thighs spread completely apart to the cold air of the room, entirely naked except for his jacket slipping off your shoulders. 

Your vision was blurring, heavy tears forming from his deft fingers working at your sex. His two middle fingers were pumping relentlessly in and out of you, drawing out slick, soaking sounds and ragged whimpers from your mouth, which were muffled by his other hand tightly clamped over your lips. 

“Shh, don't be loud now, pipsqueak. Don’t want grammy to hear us, do we?” He murmured, accompanying the words by curling his middle finger against that one spongy spot, pressing and rubbing it until you drooled helplessly against his palm and curled your toes hard against the sheets. 

You could practically hear the smirk framing his face right now, mocking you as he intentionally did everything that was going against you being able to be quiet. 

Your hand, which had been weakly gripping his wrist over your face, tapped against his skin, prompting him to take it off so you could finally speak.

“aah– Caleb, I can't anymore! I want your–”

“My cock?” He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers shifted inside you to hit that exact spot again. “Nah. You don't just get to run off to another man's house and come back expecting a reward. You’ll get it when I say you’ll get it.” 

You squirmed desperately against his tight grip. “It's not– it's not like that.” You could barely keep your thoughts straight; Caleb sounded entirely too casual for a man who was currently knuckles deep inside you. 

“Plus, I doubt you can handle more. Look at you, struggling already.” He used his free hand to tilt your head down, forcing you to look at the filthy scene of your own hole stretching around just two of his thick fingers, your slick release dripping down onto the mattress. 

You clamped down hard on his hand at the sight, yet you were completely insatiable, eager to feel him inside you instead.

“But noo– ” Caleb immediately pulled his fingers out of your cunt, a loud, wet squelch following the action before he stuffed them straight into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste yourself.

“Tch. You talk too much,” he purred, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you instinctively sucked on his wet digits. “Shut up and behave, and I might consider indulging you.”

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[mwphisto]

"Did you know that keeping your legs and hips elevated like this can increase the chances of conception after ejaculation?" You grin cheekily up at Zayne as he pants, cheeks flushed and inky hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you. "That... is not true."

Despite that, Zayne doesn't release your ankles. Nor does he pull out after emptying inside of you.

"It's not?!" You blink at him, genuinely shocked by this information. You've seen and heard that line used in so many books, shows, and movies that you just assumed it had to have some level of truth to it.

"No, it's just a myth." He reasons with you, a bemused smile forming on his lips as he looks down on you. Still, you can't help but counter back, still breathless with disbelief "It doesn't help... like at all?"

"Realistically, it only takes one sperm cell to reach the egg to be able to fertilize it. And I just put roughly at least 50 million into you..." You actually gasp at that, jaw going slack as you watch his cheeks deepen in hue.

"Zayne!" The statistics of your silly little comment are now making your brain go into a nose dive spiral. "It's the truth, a single ejaculation can have hundreds of millions of sperm cells within it. But it only takes one to make a baby."

You lay back against the pillows again, relaxing as Zayne slowly lowers your legs but still refuses to pull out of you. "Then how..." now, a small smile plays across his lips as he looks at you, leaning down to kiss your sweaty forehead.

"A woman's uterus naturally destroys a lot of them, and the journey through the reproductive tract is long. They get lost or die on their own along the way.” He still has a dopey grin on his face. “That's why it can be so difficult."

"So... we should have you put like two billion in me just to be safe?" The look on Zayne's face is nothing short of pure exasperation, but the way he begins to twitch back to life within you says otherwise.

"I... suppose I can try my best."