Hello! I'm Radhika, your friendly neighborhood writer. I'm 20, and am studying Psychology in university. You can call me Radhika, Rad or any pet names if you want to.
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Fanfiction and smut. I have some original novels as well, but they're on Wattpad.
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Thank you for visiting. Hope you enjoyed your stay, and will visit again.
(this is gonna be abt stuff that's going on in my country, jusf a rant, feel free to scroll by and skip)
as someone who actually thought of staying in the country, not because of patriotism, but merely because i am my parents' only daughter who can take care of them, the plight of the people who protested seriously discourages me.
police came forward with sticks, they beat children, women and all others indiscriminately (something that they can't seem to do with a lot of other things), cussed at them, and a lot of them didn't even have nametags or uniforms, because they know what today's youth is capable of.
do they not understand that the middle aged and old people who follow and damn near worship them blindly are not going to be there 5-10 years down the line? it is going to be those kids, it is going to be us, the youth, that they have beaten up and driven away who are going to be a big part of the population. and the fact of the matter is, there is really no party in this country which is worthy of being voted at this point. it is really just a matter of choosing between the bad and the worse, and in which case, we will choose the bad, because we have seen what happened when it was the worse who were in power.
they don't care about anything atp. they do not care about the youth, who they say is misinformed and influenced (and a lot of them might be, i am not saying no), but so many of them are so much smarter than the politicians that sit right there in those seats. they don't care about the tribals whose homes are being snatched away from them. they don't care about the women and children, who can't feel safe even in daylight because someone might grab them and do unspeakable things before killing them. it has to be a rarest of rare cases for the judges to actually give the perpetrators some kind of punishment.
and then the oldies have the nerve to ask why people don't care about their nation? i will say, i do care for the nation, for the nation is made up of people like me. people who study, give up half their lives for entrance exams, then study again for their degrees, and then stew away at a job, if they're able to get one, only to be stripped clean by taxes to get nothing but a fucking certificate of appreciation.
so, yes, i care for the nation, but not for the government, which doesn't listen to its people's demands. i don't care for the people who call others anti-national and terrorists just because they're asking for some accountability and responsibility.
I'm tired of this bs. coming from a person who's going to stay in this country and probably die here. really makes me reconsider having kids.
about ♱ losing your virginity to the experienced lads men!
pairing ♱ xavier ⌇zayne ⌇rafayel ⌇sylus ⌇caleb [ separate ] x f!r
content warning ♱ virginity loss, slight jealousy/insecurity, a bit of hurt comfort, mentions of blood, possessiveness, slight corruption, innocence kink, body worship, fingering, mentions of oral (f. receiving), heavy pet name usage, unprotected sex, creampie, unrealistic smut, established relationships (except caleb is readers bsf) lowkey plot heavy sorry — MINORS DNI 18+
kit says ♱ so i accidentally made zayne’s angsty … apologies. also this isn’t my best, but i'm still proud of it! i hope everyone enjoys! it’s my longest one so far yayy. feedback + comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated ⭑.ᐟ
沈星回 ⟢ #XAVIER
your relationship had always been soft—gentle kisses, intertwined hands, quiet nights spent tangled together beneath blankets. it was sweet, almost innocent. but beneath that sweetness, xavier’s been aching for more.
of course, he was patient with you, but in truth, xavier’s waited months for this. for the words to slip out of your mouth so coyly with pretty, innocent doe eyes. for you to look at him the way you are now and say,
“xavie… do you think we could… um,” you can barely say the words, a lump forming in your throat out of sheer mortification. “have sex?” you end on a whisper.
and xavier’s breath catches instantly, a rush of heat pooling low in his stomach. you’re just so impossibly cute that he wonders how he’s managed to hold himself back for so long without pouncing on you. maybe it’s his hand that has kept him sane this whole time. every night, he’d go back to his place, haunted by your sweet voice and pretty face, and stroke himself for hours thinking about you—thinking about the way your tight walls would wrap around him. thinking about how you wouldn’t know a damn thing.
“a-are you sure?” he needs confirmation. he needs to hear you say it with no hesitation whatsoever.
and when you respond with a meek nod and, “i’m sure… you know i’ve never done anything like this before and… i want you to be my first. i trust you.”
xavier sees red. his mind blanks, reason slipping through his fingers as a rush of emotion crashes over him all blurring together until he can’t tell one from the other. maybe you’re wrong to trust him. maybe you should run.
but xavier controls himself and lets his dreams come true. you’re in his bed, tucked beneath him in cute, mismatched lingerie. it’s your first time, and even as he steadies himself for you, the thought fills him with a quiet, reverent joy. you’re his now, and the moment feels sacred.
your teeth tug on your bottom lip anxiously as he hovers above you—he knows you’re nervous, but he can’t help but feel elated. he’s claiming you tonight… you’ll be completely and utterly his—the way you were destined to be.
he preps you extensively—rubbing you over your panties, then slipping his fingers underneath the soaked fabric and playing with your untouched clit then finally pushing a single digit into your warm, velvet walls. and you cry, you sob, you moan, every broken sound is some variation of his name and he almost comes untouched. instead, he adds a second, watching your face scrunch up in pained pleasure.
he gets you right to the edge and when you’re teetering on your orgasm, he pulls them out. he feels his cock twitch wildly in his all too tight boxers when you cry helplessly. he reminds you that you can’t have your first orgasm like this—that it needs to be on his cock and you just nod dumbly, heating up in shyness all over again.
your panties are off instantly and his eyes zero in on your drooling cunt, watching your barely stretched hole twitch and beg for his cock. he moans at the sight, pinning your legs open when you try to close them shyly under his intense gaze. “no, honey, keep ‘em open so i can see all of you, yeah?”
you arch your back gasping for something to dull the ache in your pussy, “xavier… please,”
and he nods, panting. he pulls his boxers down, freeing his cock and letting it slap against his bare abdomen and you choke, eyes widening. he notices immediately and your fear shouldn’t turn him on but it does. so much.
“you ready f’me, baby?” he asks hotly.
you nod, responding with a watery voice. “yeah, please… wanna be yours, xav,”
and xavier is so scared because the moment his cock presses into you and he feels you stretching around him to take him, he knows he’s going to ruin you. he knows he won’t be able to go slow the way you need him to. especially when you’re losing your innocence right before him.
he’s groaning, self control fraying at your mewls and sobs. “f-fuck, angel… s’tight. squeezing the fuck out of me. rela—hah! relax.”
and your arousal—brought by his face, his moans, his words, his cock— streams out of you and coats his length allowing him to inch in more and more with every passing second.
“can-can i keep moving, honey?” he gasps, dick throbbing at the new, tight space. “you okay?”
you nod and he parrots, sliding himself in and feeling you tense underneath him before relaxing—or attempting to. he moans, intertwining your fingers before leaning down to kiss you with such intensity you almost don’t notice that he shoves himself in.
you almost wouldn’t have had his fat tip not bumped right against your cervix causing a scream to erupt into his mouth.
xavier falters, the control he’s known for unraveling in an instant. his touch turns desperate, almost trembling, and his words spill out between shallow breaths and sloppy kisses. his hands squeeze yours tight enough to hurt as he attempts to anchor himself.
he lets you adjust… tries to be patient with you as you make all these cute sounds and whimper out his name while your pussy holds him tight. it’s the least he can do.
but when you give him the okay to move? you almost regret it. he pistons in and out of you, releasing one of your hands to sneak his between your bodies and rub at your clit.
“god, you’re so perfect—ah, my perfect stargirl.” he moans, his abdomen tightening up the same way your pussy does when he flicks at your clit faster and faster. “cum for me, yeah? cum all over me.”
you do just that with a cry of his name and it only triggers his orgasm. you both feel his warm seed filling your cunt and it’s so overwhelming for the both of you—moans of each other’s names and heavy panting before he’s collapsing onto your body.
you’re his. every single part of you. his sweet girl is finally all his. he mumbles into your neck.
“no one will ever have you like this except for me, okay?”
夏以昼 ⟢ #CALEB
you’ve only ever trusted caleb. he’s instilled the fact that he’ll be the only man in your life—the only man who would never, ever hurt you almost from the moment you met. you hurt yourself? you call caleb. you need a ride because it’s pouring rain and you forgot your umbrella? you call caleb. you need anything at all? you call caleb.
…you want to lose your virginity?
well, who else would you call other than caleb?
you don’t call, but text him—too embarrassed to even say the words out loud—and he’s at your door within the hour, breath uneven, brows drawn tight. there’s confusion in his eyes, maybe even a flicker of anger, but beneath it all, something else you can’t quite name.
he bulldozes his way into your apartment and his voice is low when he speaks. “so… you want to have sex… any particular reason?” no niceties. just straight to the point.
you shut the door and face away from him, timidly responding. “‘m just curious, my girlfriends are always talking about their sex lives and you know i know nothing. i just wanted to get it over with, but with someone i trust… so i wanted it to be you.” you babble anxiously. you turn to see him standing there, tense and unmoving with his hands in his pockets. “is that weird? if it is, then we can just forget it, i’ll ask—”
he cuts you off with haste, gritting his words out. “pips, i swear you better not say you’ll ask someone else.” he stalks towards you and the intensity of his gaze on you has you backing up against the door. “i will take care of you like i always do, isn’t that right, baby?”
baby. caleb has called you that before, but in a degrading, teasing way, but it doesn’t seem like he’s teasing. your breath catches at the foreign name, but you nod anyway.
but a nod isn’t enough for him, you can see it in his raised, expectant eyebrow. he wants you to say it. he needs to hear you say how much you want him. “yes caleb… yes, please. help me?”
then his lips are on yours and he’s pulling you in for a searing kiss. it’s messy—too full of want to be graceful—and for a fleeting second, you’re grateful it’s him. your caleb, your childhood best friend. the very same caleb who once taught you how to kiss is now the one undoing you with his lips.
and caleb is meticulous. he starts with his head between your thighs, lapping at your messy cunt muttering on and on about how a real man will always eat his pretty girl out before fucking her. he has you falling apart on his mouth, his nose, his fingers—over and over and over until you’re a shaking, writhing mess under him.
now his cock is rubbing up and down your sensitive slit, coating himself in your slick while you twitch and pant. he’s holding onto every bit of self restraint he has left. “tell me what to do, baby.”
you don’t know how, but your pussy craves something it's never had. craves the weight of his thick cock. especially when he presses the bulbous tip of his cock at your entrance. “please… put it inside me. need you to fuck me ple—ah!”
you’re cut off again by the painful stretch of his length finally pressing into you. his thumb catches your clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive bud as a ploy to distract you from the way he rips you apart, but with his size? there’s nothing that can take your mind off the pain.
you sob and he moans at the sound… the feeling. there’s a lump in his throat almost like he could cry. he’s wanted this for years. he’s wanted to make you his for fucking lifetimes and now he finally has you. he’ll never give you away to any man after today. you’re his forever.
“hurts…” you whisper, tears free falling from your tightly shut eyes.
his entire body goes rigid as he twitches beneath your vice like velvet walls. “shhh, i know, baby, i know,” he coos, but even his voice is shaky. then he notices the blood, further confirmation that he’s your first… your only. “fuck, i’m almost in, okay? gonna make it feel s’good for ya, promise.”
you nod, breathing the way he instructs you to, discerning every inch that fills your cunt. then he bottoms out, his tip nestled so deep that you feel him everywhere.
you gasp, “f-fuck, caleb!” your shaking hand splays over your stomach, pressing down and feeling the evidence of him. you find yourself loving the pressure of him inside of you and your body needs more. you know it’s greedy and you probably should let your body adjust to his thick length, but you can’t wait. “more, need more. you promised you’d make me feel good,” you pant. “so please move,”
he laughs incredulously, backing out of your heat just to shove himself back in. “gonna drive me crazy, pips… gonna make me make this pretty pussy mine.”
and you squeeze him so tight, branding the shape of him into you. because you’ve longed to hear those words from him and you had a slight inkling that he’d been waiting just as long to say them to you.
your body tightens, a familiar tension coiling deep inside you. it’s a sensation you’ve only felt a handful of times before—all consuming—until the ache in your belly blooms into something electric, something that borders on euphoric. the testimony slips past your lips as a moan as you feel yourself unravelling around him. “caleb…fuck! i-it’s yours… always been yours.”
“that’s right, baby, all fuckin’ mine.”
秦彻 ⟢ #SYLUS
you’ve never given much thought to sylus’s previous relationships. you know he’s experienced. he knows how to kiss you, knows how to eat you out and he knows how to make you cum and cry and everything in between. you also know that kind of experience doesn’t just come out of nowhere. as much as you like to believe sylus was simply born perfect, you know better. someone else must’ve come before you—someone he learned with, practiced with—long before he ever fell in love with you.
the thought of sylus being intimate with someone else left a sour taste in your mouth and made your stomach sink. it’s irrational—you’re hyper aware of that, but it can’t be helped. there’s a big possibility that he was, like you assumed, born perfect and you’re his first partner, but there’s no way to know unless you ask.
so you ask, bold and brave at first but when he gives you a sheepish look, you falter and it’s obvious that his non-committal answer hurts you, even if it’s only a little.
“sweetie, why does it matter if i’ve had prior partners? none of them could ever hold a candle to you.” he confirms, voice so matter of fact.
there’s still a flicker of hurt in your eyes when you look up at him. “how can you be so confident when we’ve never even had sex? what if all the girls you fucked in the past are a million times better than i am?”
he gives you a look you can’t discern before his hands cup your cheeks, squishing them and laying a chaste kiss lips on your puckered lips. “because i love you, sweet girl. not for your body or for your face— even though i believe you’re the most gorgeous person alive—but for who you are and how alive you make me feel.” and every word rolls off his tongue so confidently, so reassuringly. “sex doesn’t matter to me. i could go lifetimes without it as long as i get to be with you.”
and his words are all the justification you need. you’ve been saving yourself—holding yourself back for the right person, the one who makes you feel safe, seen, understood. sylus has never given you a reason to doubt that it’s him. he’s the one you trust, the one you love. your one. your only.
you gulp before inhaling sharply and letting a surge of confidence take you over. you push him onto his bed and straddle him, movements a little uncoordinated, but he steadies you like he always does. “don’t want you to go lifetimes without it… i wanna do it.” you whisper. “i want to go all the way.”
he searches your eyes for even the slightest bit of hesitation, but you stand firm on your decision. it makes his cock harden beneath you, digging into your clothed core. you grind against him gently, inconsistently as extra confirmation that you want him and his breath hitches.
now you’re on top of him, his warm, tender hands rubbing up and down your sides as you hover over his cock. he’s prepped you, of course. sylus spent eons prying you open so you could take him… but he’s still huge and you’re still too tight.
he looks up and your chest heaving as your arousal drips down his tip. he murmurs to you, “go as slow as you want, baby. we can stop when—shit.”
he’s immediately cut off by your tight heat stretching over his mushroom head, trapping him there as a moan rips through you. it hurts, he knows it does. his size is one of the other main reasons you avoided having sex. he was just too big.
“fuck, ease up, sweetie. ‘s gonna hurt if you keep squeezing me like that.” his voice is gravelly, practically a grunt. “let me open you up.”
you nod, determined to keep going, your breaths coming out in shaky rhythm as sylus steadies you with soft praise and gentle murmurs. his words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and with every one, arousal gushes out of you—spilling over, pooling down to where you’re joined, until all you can feel is him.
“you’re taking me so well, baby,” he says, squeezing your hips and pulling himself up to smother his face against your tits. “there’s no one but you. never going to be anyone but you. understand?”
you cry, sliding yourself all the way down until he’s bottomed out inside of you. “yes, all mine,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling so full of his cock and love that you forget about the ache and the pressure. you can only think about him being lodged against your sweet spot causing a knot to quickly form in your stomach, both ends of the sting pulling tighter and tighter until…
snap!
and your eyes are rolling back, your head rids of every word just to cling onto his name in which you repeat like a prayer over and over and over. your pussy convulses, walls spasming as you become mush in his arms.
sylus resorts to his default smug smile, pulling away from your breasts to look at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with mirth. “you just came from putting my cock inside you, sweetheart.”
it’s not a question, it’s a statement. a fact, at that. you whimper, nodding, before raising your hips that still have a tremor from your orgasm and sliding back down.
“w-want you… t’give me everything, sy.” you whimper, digging your nails into his pale shoulders, leaving red crescent shapes in their wake. “want you s’bad it hurts.”
he laughs breathily, heart pounding and blood thrumming beneath his skin. “whatever you want, sweetie. it’s yours—i’m yours. take as much as you want.”
黎深 ⟢ #ZAYNE
there’s nothing you want more than zayne to fuck you. yes, you were a virgin, that much was clear, but that never meant you didn’t get urges. you fantasized about zayne for years before he finally asked you out. you refused to go on dates, you refused to kiss other men and you most certainly rejected any advances that were made on you—you could’ve lost your virginity if you really wanted to, but above all, you only wanted one man to have it. your man.
but even after several weeks of being his girlfriend, he still denies you. he can’t seem to bring himself to go past third base with you. he’ll kiss you, play with your tits, and fuck you with his fingers, but the second you mention going all the way, his hands are off you like he’s been burned.
you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. you always knew he was experienced—he was humble about his ability to work a woman’s body—but that only made his hesitation more confusing. why did he pull away whenever sex with you came up? why did he act like the thought of being with you in the most intimate way possible was something he had to avoid?
you tried so hard not to let it show, to pretend his distance didn’t bother you—but tonight, you’re at your breaking point. the ache for him is one you can feel in your cunt and deep in your bones, a slow, relentless burn that pulls every buried feeling to the surface. all the want you’ve swallowed down for years, all the insecurity and fear you’ve tried to bite back—they’re rising now, thick in your throat, threatening to spill out of your mouth if he didn’t finally fuck you.
but he refuses, once again with a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he pulls his fingers out of you sopping, needy pussy. “not tonight,” he says thickly.
and you can’t help it. the tears blurring everything until the warmth of the moment feels cold. what started as pleasure twists into something raw and aching. “do you just not want me or something?” you whisper, words broken and zayne freezes, heart splintering at the sound. “i’ve wanted you for so long, zayne. i’ve liked you since i could even process what the feeling was.”
“sweetheart—”
“i saved everything for you…all my firsts like a fucking idiot on the off chance that you would finally see me, and you would want me… and then i got so lucky and you did want me,” you say, tearily. “at least i thought you did, but now i try to give you all of me and you repeatedly reject me. so what is it, zayne? do you want me or not because i only want to be with someone who does.”
his voice is tight when he responds, hazel jade eyes going dark. “i’ve always wanted you. i’ve never wanted anyone the way i want you and it scares me.” he whispers, sounding pained. “i do want you, sweetheart… more than that, i need you. every fiber of my being needs you and i can’t control it. it’s why i keep saying no… i just can’t bear to lose control and hurt you. your first time deserves to be perfect.”
your breath hitches at his words, pussy weeping at the idea of zayne losing control. you want that. desperately. you take his hands and place them on your thighs, “hurt me, i don’t care. just please… give it to me, zayne.”
and all the self control he’s built over the years dissipates in an instant. his lips are on yours, tongues and teeth clashing with a mixture of spit coating your chins. zayne is both rough and gentle with his movements, hands squeezing at any bit of your flesh he can grab. he’s in between your legs in no time with his cock in his hand, pumping himself and watching how you admire him in awe.
“tell me,” he pants. “please, sweetheart. tell me how bad you want it.”
you whimper and shoot him pleading eyes. “i need it s’bad. need you, please don’t make me wait any longer.”
zayne wouldn’t even dream of making you wait. he takes a few deep breaths before pushing into you, instantly met with resistance. you gasp and wince at the stretch, but you welcome the pain and the pressure of him because you’ve dreamed of this for what feels like an eternity.
you tell him to move despite the evidence of blood and the obvious pain you’re enduring. he’s hesitant, he always is when it comes to intimacy, but you’re convincing when you want to be and, at the end of the day, he could never truly deny you.
and so he moves, stretching you open, splitting you on his cock while he tries his damndest to keep from completely losing it and fucking you stupid. the truth is, it’s taking everything out of him to be a good man to you. to be the man you deserve.
luckily, it doesn’t take long for you to adjust to the foreign feeling and the discomfort—slowly, but surely it turned into something tolerable then finally, the feeling of immense pleasure. especially when you snake a hand between your bodies and play with your clit… just like you used to when you would fantasize about this moment.
you can see zayne is holding back, with his set jaw and his eyes squeezed shut, but that’s the last thing you want.
“don’t hold back, zayne.” you moan and he responds with something short of a whimper. a noise that sounds like it begrudgingly crawled out of his throat.
“i love you,” he heaves, the words strained like it’s taking everything not to ravage you. he didn’t want to say it like this, but he’s overwhelmed by you—your pussy, your pretty face, your even prettier sounds. he can’t help but let the words he’s been holding onto for so long spill out of him. “love you. i’ve loved you for so long… ‘m sorry for hurting you, sweetheart. so, so sorry.” he falls on top of you, tearing up with his head in the crook of your neck while he continues to thrust into you at a steady pace.
you wrap your legs around him, drawing him in closer. “and i love you so much,” you whisper, heart in your throat. “i want you to show me. let go and love me the way you want. you won’t hurt me.”
祁煜 ⟢ #RAFAYEL
the early days of your relationship with rafayel were rocky. you wanted him—god, you wanted him more than anything—but every time your intimacy got too intense, you’d pull away. you’d mumble some excuse about having to go, or pretend something suddenly needed your attention.
you saw the disappointment flicker across his face each time, that quiet look he never dared to question, and it tore you apart because you knew it was killing him. you could see the want… the need for you in his eyes, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to allow things to move further.
it was a cruel loop—you wanted him, you wanted sex with him, but fear always won. fear that you’d be horrible at it, that he’d see you differently, that once you crossed that line, he wouldn’t look at you with the same softness anymore. that he wouldn’t think you were his pretty girl anymore.
but your distance is wearing him down. rafayel’s trying to be patient, but you can feel it—the way he’s unraveling, the way he wishes he could just crawl into your head and understand what’s holding you back.
rafayel doesn’t do well with distance. he’s prone to spiraling and losing every ounce of inspiration without you, and you’re the rock that steadies him. he needs you, so he invites begs you to come over and your guilt has you obliged.
but when you arrive and see his entire home lit with candles, you feel your palms clam up and your throat get dry. you blurt your insecurities before he has the chance to even greet you.
“i want to, ahem… have sex… with you,” you start, awkwardly, cringing at yourself. “but i… can’t. because i don’t think you’ll like having sex with me.”
his brows draw in and a small scowl rests on his face. “you think i wouldn’t like having sex with you? the love and light of my life?”
“well… yeah?” you say, shrinking under his scrutiny. “what if… i’m too awkward or i’m not actually as pretty as you think i am? i don’t… i don’t want you to not like it. does that make sense?”
“no,” he says flatly. “you know i think you’re the prettiest princess in the world and sea, nothing underneath your clothes could change the way i feel about you. i’m offended you’d think i’m that shallow.” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “you trust me, don’t you?”
you nod slowly, “more than anything.”
“then let me show you how much i adore and worship you.”
and rafayel is so slow and gentle when he cradles your face and pecks your lips. so tender when he coaxes your mouth open so he can push his tongue in. so sweet when he’s guiding you into his bedroom without pulling away from you.
your clothes disappear before you can realize it, save for your bra and panties. you feel the need to cover up, feeling overly exposed and vulnerable before him and his darkening eyes. your arms cross over your breasts and stomach and he shakes his head, peeling your hands away from your body and pinning them above your head.
“don’t… don’t hide from me. i think you’re perfect, you’re so pretty.” he murmurs, keeping your hands above your head before he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck and down your chest. his free hand tugs at your bra until your breasts spill out and his mouth finds your tight, peaked nipple.
you gasp, arching your back to which he chuckles. “i think your body wants me, princess.”
and it does. he can feel just how badly when his mouth trails down further and finds your cunt dripping through your panties.
as much as rafayel wants to eat your pretty pussy till you’re squirming and gushing, his cock begs for attention. instead, he pushes his finger into you, stretching you slowly before adding a second finger. he watches you wince and hears your sharp gasp with every little movement. when he deems you ready, he pulls out, watching your pussy gape and hearing your little cry at the loss of contact.
he sits back, little purple strands sticking to his forehead as the heat in the room seems to rise. “we can still stop if you really want to, but i—i need you to tell me now, because…” you notice the way he twitches in his pants and you’re mesmerized by his full body shudder. “i need you… and i won’t be able to stop once i get inside of you.”
you shake your head, meekly. “n-no… i want you.”
it’s the only confirmation he needs before he’s freeing himself from the confines of his pants and you from your uncomfortably sopping panties, tossing everything to the side.
he lines himself up with your drooling hole, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit. then he takes a breath and pushes inside your warm, wet walls, and the room is immediately filled with the sounds of your mixed whines.
s length has your fingers clutching the sheets, knuckles losing color as the fabric threatens to tear beneath your grip. “raf,” you sob, voice breaking as your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed by the way he fills you.
“does it—fuck, cutie, you’re so fucking tight. gosh, y-you’re gonna ruin me,” he pushes in further, thankful that you’re honey like arousal makes it easier to slip in. “does it hurt? you–you’d tell me, right?”
“f-feels strange… but it doesn’t hurt.” you pant, feeling more and more full with every inch he pushes inside of you. “i’ll tell you if it hurts, just… keep going.”
it’s all the encouragement he needs to sink the rest of the way in, eyes locked on the way you take him—slowly, completely—until there’s nothing left between you. until his skin is against yours and you’re so full of him that he’s all you can think about.
“you don’t know how long i’ve waited to have you like this.” he murmurs, pulling out before shoving himself back inside. “my pretty girl. you’re finally all mine.”
₊˚⊹♡ synopsis: You lied about being a beta. But now you’re in heat, and someone’s about to find out the hard way.
₊˚⊹♡ pairing: Alpha!LADSmen x Omega!reader
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: NSFW! unprotected sex, loads of breeding (pun intended), knotting (caleb cuz why do you think he can help it?), omegaverse, dumbification, inappropriate use of evol, fingering, cunnilingus, mild angst+loss-of-control trauma(zayne), multiple rounds of feral fucking.
₊˚⊹♡ nya's note: passed out from period cramps and resurrected only to type this—in. one. night. so forgive me since it isn't exactly proofread. however i do hope i fed you well, my naniis.
if you wanna be tagged for the sequels, do lmk in the comments.
and finallyyy—reblogs, feedback, unhinged thoughts—all are deeply appreciated.
秦彻 SYLUS QIN
It’s all a blur—the cramps twisting inside you, your head spinning, vision blurring. The gun slips from your shaking hand, but Sylus doesn’t notice that. He notices the way your scent changes, sweet and sharp, his pupils shrinking in horror before widening with something worse.
You barely hear him call your name before glass shatters and his Evol drags you both out of danger.
Fuck. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out you weren’t a beta. You’d been so careful—suppressants doubled, routine perfected—but you hadn’t accounted for a high-risk mission throwing your cycle off balance.
“Pheromones,” you croak, clutching your stomach, curling fetal in the passenger seat.
He doesn’t hesitate. Soon, the car is heavy with his presence. His pheromones wrap around you—warm like a leather jacket left in the sun, like the earth after rain, rich and grounding. Your cramps dull…for a moment. Until they hit again.
“Please. m’sorry,” you murmur, guiding his hand to your cunt, soaking through your pants.
“Kitten.” His jaw is tight—warning—or pleading—it’s impossible to tell apart.
“For fuck’s sake, Sylus. Please.”
That’s all it takes. His hand shoves into your pants, sliding two fingers in while the other stays on the wheel.
“Fucking soaked,” he grunts, his pheromones thickening as your cunt holds him in a hot grip.
He groans once more as you clamp tight. “Heat suppressants. Is that why this is that bad?”
You give him a look. But he just curls his fingers in you, making a whorish moan rip from your throat. “Fuck—fuck me. please.” You cling to his arm like a lifeline.
“Sweetie.” His brows furrow but God he’s so hard at that. “Do you realise what you’re saying?”
“Just shut up—for once and listen to me.” your jaw tightens as you hold back a sob.
It’s how you’re on his bed, pants off, the angry tip of his cock already dragging between your soaked lips. his face is close to your hot one, his arms secured around your arched body.
His cock slips into you. he pushes forward once—his delicious weight crushing your body. And the draaaaag of his stupidly thick dick along your pulsating walls—ohhh—
“Sy—!” a weak moan escapes you as you cum around him.
“Already, kitten? I’ve barely filled you.” he cradles your face as your eyes open. Your hips rock once, pushing his head deeper.
He sighs, and lifts off you. you nearly whimper at the lack of his skin against yours. But soon, his pheromones come alive, drowning you. his hand snakes below you knee, hooking it up and pressing it way back to your chest.
“Now that you’ve come to,” he drawls, pulling his hips back until only his tip remains. “Let us begin.” And with that, he surges forward, filling you in one long stroke.
You mouth hangs open as you fall limp under him, your cheek wet from drool. Your cramps have dulled and there’s only the pressure of his dick filling your womb so perfectly at each brutal snap of his hips to yours.
Your body rocks at each thrust. Strings of whimpers fall from your mouth as he fucks you. You don’t know if you’re imagining it but his pheromones tickle your skin like they have a mind of their own. How long had you been suppressing your heat?
“Stay with me.” Sylus grips your chin, his cock never stopping its heavenly abuse.
“mmpph—please more,” where do you find the audacity, truly?
He chuckles darky until he pulls back and thrusts hard. “ah—hah yes fucking perfect!”
His finger finds your clit, just keeping it there, still, it has your body quivering. He buries himself to the hilt once and spills into you with a deep groan.
And as if your womb has a brain of its own—you cum with him. Just at the taste of his cum.
“Your pheromones are going haywire.” He rasps, eyes closing briefly. You’re so ferally horny that even the syllables he articulates has your pussy fluttering around him. Why wouldn’t you though? Sylus had always been such an alluring alpha. And now that he’s bred you, you wanted more.
…you wanted his knot.
Yeah, you’ve lost your mind.
“Tightening around me,” he groans low in chest, keeping you full of his dick, kissing your womb each time. “If you keep this up, I might knot you.”
“Do it,” you feel him throb inside you. Hard. Like he was swelling—
“don’t—” he bites his tongue, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm the way his blood pumps to his cock. He gives you another thrust regardless—before his energy links slither around your body, flipping you on your stomach.
You whine. But he has to. If he doesn’t—if you keep your slutty mouth running—you’re gonna have a thick knot swelling in you, plugging you and keeping you full of his warm cum.
his hand snakes around your throat, bringing your face back close to his. Your back is arched, ass flush against his hips as his cock drives deeper into your pliant hole. Already overstimulated from finishing so wildly.
“g-god sy—too deep—please!”
“Why did you lie?” his thrusts turn punishing. Sharp.
“I—ngh! Thought you didn’t want a weak partner.” His fingers curls around your neck. Your face feels hotter now. Your thighs press together as you inch closer to cumming hard on his heavy cock again.
“Weak?” he nearly spits those words out. “Kitten. You’re the last person on this planet I’d describe as weak.”
His hand comes down again, to find your clit. His cock screws into you with precision. Making your gummy walls pulsate happily around him.
“fuuuuck. fuck sylus!” you cry out.
“Alpha, beta or omega. It doesn’t fucking matter to me. you’ll always be the strongest woman in my life. And you’re the only one I’d want by my side.”
You’re soaking up the sheets at this point. Your juices spilling and spilling endlessly.
“cum for me.” his lips trace the shell of your ear, before biting your earlobe. And that’s it. You cum around him. Desperately. Pathetically.
Pussy wringing him for his cum. Begging to be bred full. And he gives you. Loads and loads and loads of his cum. It doesn’t stop. And your pussy doesn’t let up on milking him until he’s completely dry.
“You’ll spend your heat cycles with me from now on.”
Who are you to argue.
夏以昼 CALEB XIA
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You thought you could skip your heat suppressants this month. Your doctor had listed all the side effects of the pills. So maybe since you were all alone this weekend, you could let your body be for once. Caleb wasn’t coming over this week. Or so he said.
But here he was, outside your door.
How were you supposed to know he was planning a surprise?
You can’t stop your pheromones. you can’t pretend Caleb’s not knocking on your door and louder now that he can smell your essence flowing through.
“you got an omega in there?” the knocks get insistent. Shit.
“y-yeah. just—just leave for today, okay?” you lie through clenched teeth, one arm over the couch for support. Did you truly think this would repel him?
The door opens. When did he get the key—
The minute his eyes fall on you, he freezes in horror. “no fucking way…” he breathes.
“Caleb I—lets discuss this—” you tremble, falling to the ground. He rushes to crouch beside you. Caleb’s pheromones come alive in response to your wild ones. He has to hold his breath to keep himself in check. And you sense it. His restraint. The only way to escape the interrogation is—
Your lips crash to his, and it doesn’t even take him a second to devour you right back.
“make it stop. Please.” Your hand trails down, low to his hard on. Of course.
That pretty much seals your fate. He lifts you with one hand, and within ten paces he’s putting you on the bed.
He’s on you, nose buried in the crook of your neck, drinking in that sweet scent you keep spilling.
“fuck is this what you needed? An alpha to make it all go away?” his hand traverses down, between your legs where you keep oozing your love juices. You whimper at his words, back arching with need.
“caleb please—”
“you think you’re in the place to make demands pips?” he murmurs darkly. And then you feel it. The way his cock springs free and hits your stomach. Hot and heavy and—you look down—leaking precum that makes your cunt spasm. He taps your clit with the angry red head of his cock.
Before you can let out the whimper stuck in your throat, he pushes in.
“ohh—oh please—” your legs spread wider to accommodate him to no avail. He’s too big. Filling you up too much. Your walls are forced to open for him. “too—hic—big!”
He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s driving into you again, tits bouncing at each hard thrust, allll the way back out and then alllll the way in. your jaw falls slack, eyes glazed with need.
“pretty pussy takin me so well though, baby.” He leans back, watching his dick get smothered in your juices as it keeps disappearing in your little hole.
His finger finds your clit, wetting it with all the mess you dribble out around his cock.
“hngh—! Cale—”
“why’d you hide it from me?” he asks, yanking you closer by your thighs.
“you’d—mmph—treat me like a baby—” your eyes flutter shut as he slams his cock right against your sweet spot buried deep in your gummy walls.
“like what? Do things for you?” he smirks, his thumb teasing your hole as his cock stretches it. “don’t you like it? Me spoiling you?” he groans to himself at it.
You manage to shake your head even as every thought gets fucked out of you.
“no?” he stops abruptly and you whine so pathetically that it reverses each statement of self-respect you’ve made.
You feel weightless as his evol lifts you and places you on him, slamming you back down on his cock. “Well go ahead. Show me how much you hate it when I do the work.”
Your thighs shake as you attempt to move. You try to move. To prove something. But your legs quake, your body burns, and you end up grinding helplessly against him. Not deep enough. Not full enough.
“Fuck, Caleb—”
He cups your face, brings you nose-to-nose.
“Just say it,” he whispers. “Say you need me.” you nod erratically at that.
Wet thwops echoing as he fucks up into you, bullying your hole into swallowing him deeper. “ohmygod—mmfuck!” your head lolls back, eyes shut as he drives into you from below. One sharp thrust and it has you pulsing around him as you cum.
One more thrust and he’s spurting ropes of his cum into you. but then…
“ca—caleb—?!” he grows. His cock gets bigger, and you pussy keeps milking it as his knot swells inside you.
“sorry pips. I need to.” He groans deep as his knot keeps all the thick seed in you—plugged. He lasts only a moment until he’s grinding you on his knot.
“hahh! Istoomuch!” his knot probes your g spot, and the more he grinds, the more it massages that spot making you see fuckin stars even though you’re mad overstimulated, pussy still fluttering in the aftershocks. Tears fall free now.
“Take it. Cum ‘round my knot, baby.” He grunts, pulling you against him, his knot shifting to a delicious angle, pressing so perfectly against that swollen spot—your pussy just dumbly clamping around him, sensitive from all that overuse.
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles.
“gonna cum—hah—again, pips. You’re gonna take it like a good girl, riight?” his eyes fall on the bulge that forms in your lower tummy. “fuck, you ready to be bred?”
Your nod’s barely a tremor, but it’s enough. He grips your hips, thrusting up hard, deep, relentless. Wet, obscene sounds fill the room. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and shattering, and his follows—hot and heavy—until you feel it.
And after hours, your heat finally tames into dull cramps.
Maybe having Caleb find out wasn’t as bad as you had thought.
沈星回 XAVIER SHEN
The Association knew your ABO type. Not your cute coworker-slash-neighbour living upstairs. And really, you hadn’t even lied. When he’d assumed you were a beta, you’d simply… not corrected him. A harmless omission.
Until one day, your heat hits. The consecutive missions had been weighing on your mind. Enough to make you forget to take your heat suppressants for the month.
You’d shut all the windows, even taped the edges halfway before a worse wave of cramps hit and you had to curl in fetal on the couch. And as you’re trying to take controlled breaths, you see a basket being lowered onto your balcony. Curiosity drives you toward it.
it’s from Xavier. Painkillers, lavender essential oil and a note. Fuckin hell he knows.
I had some painkillers at home. and the other stuff. Hope it is helpful.
And so, one thing leads to another and you’re begging him to come downstairs.
He has you close to him—back pressed against yours, hands in your panties and two of his fingers in your cunt.
“Xavier… this isn’t helping.” You croak helplessly, hips grinding back against him. You hear him suck in a sharp breath. His pheromones start feeling thicker now.
“you want my cock?” it’s a sultry whisper in your ear. Far from innocent.
“y-yes…”
Your panties are slid aside as the blunt head of his cock teases your hole, coating his own cock in your warm syrup—before slipping in, making you stretch open around him inch by inch.
You whimper into the pillow when he buries himself to the hilt.
“m’so full.” You mewl, hips chasing it.
“and you still want more?” he raises a brow behind you. “okay.”
And he drives back in. filling you once more. Your thighs tremble, pressing together as he fucks you slow and deep. The angle makes your head spin. He’s nestled against that deep spot so well that you’re already close.
Still, you whimper for more—restless. For that itchy emptiness in your womb to be filled. His palm rests on the side of your waist as he leans close, making the head of his cock shift closer to where you want him.
“what’re you begging for?” his voice is low whisper in your ear.
“wanna-wanna be filled.” You manage. You feel him halt for a moment before he hikes up a thigh. You yelp in surprise but he’s already pounding the blunt head of his cock back into your gummy walls.
“hngh—Xav-Xavier.” You babble incoherently the minute he kisses your cervix. His essence comes alive, encompassing you as he brands you with his cock over and over again.
By the time he slows his pace, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum or how many times he’s filled you full.
Xavier pulls out, only to see your walls push out his creamy spend in a weak pulse. The sound you make is barely human. He exhales something rough, something that sounds like he’s losing the last thread of restraint he ever had.
His thumb presses lightly to your swollen rim, puffy pussy lips tingling with need, circling it once as if testing how sensitive you are. The answer hits him immediately when your whole body jolts.
“…greedy,” he mutters under his breath, voice ragged. “You don’t want to let any of it go, do you?”
“mmh—no—please—”
Your hips twitch, your hand reaching back for him without thought. He catches your wrist, pins it to the small of your back, and watches another bead of slick roll down your thigh.
Then he pushes two fingers back inside you.
You gasp, going taut around them, sucking them in like your pussy recognizes him now and refuses to let him go. His fingers curl, gathering the creamy mess he left inside you and nudging it deeper, deeper to your womb.
“you’re—,” he murmurs, leaning over your spine, his breath hot against your ear. “Still clenching. You’re not done.”
Your breath stutters. “Xavier… please… need—”
“You need me to keep you full,” he finishes for you, like he’s reading straight out of your instincts. He withdraws his fingers, slick and dripping, and you feel the heavy drag of his cock settle between your thighs again. Thicker now. Harder, if that’s even possible.
He guides himself back to your messy pussy lips, tapping lightly against your overstimulated hole before pushing the head in, slow enough to make your eyes cross. The stretch burns in the sweetest way, your walls fluttering as they try to pull him deeper.
“Good,” he whispers when you moan. “Open for me.”
Your legs fall apart on instinct.
He shoves in with a single, unhesitating thrust.
Your mewl against the pillow as his hips mold flush to yours, your body accepting him like it’s starved for it. His chest presses to your back, trapping you under him as his hand slides under your lower belly, holding you in place while he grinds deeper, deeper, deeper—
“Stay like this,” he says against your neck. “I’m not stopping until your heat settles.”
You sob in blisfull agreement.
Xavier starts moving.
Slow at first. Deep enough that your toes curl with every roll of his hips. Then faster, his rhythm tightening into sharp, precise strokes that spear straight into that molten spot inside you. Your breath breaks, your vision shatters, and you’re already trembling before the next orgasm even crests.
Your body clamps around him so hard he groans into your skin, low.
“That’s it,” he hisses. “Keep milking me. You’re going to take all of it this time.”
His hand slides down, thumb working tight circles over your clit while he fucks you deeper, the bed shaking underneath both of you. Pressure coils so brutally that you’re practically ripped open by the pleasure when it hits, your walls spasming around him in relentless waves.
Xavier isn’t far behind. His pace stutters, his grip on your waist bruises, and with a groan that sounds dragged from the bottom of his lungs, he spills inside you again, thick and hot and endless.
Your body shudders, overstimulated and so full it aches.
Xavier breathes hard against your shoulder, but he doesn’t pull out. His fingers hold your hips steady, keeping every drop inside you.
“Not done,” he mumbles, voice a deep, exhausted rasp. “Your heat’s nowhere near finished.”
You whimper, already trembling under him. And he rolls his hips again.
祁煜 RAFAYEL QI
Your fork barely touches the plate before the first cramp hits. You try to school your face, but Rafayel’s eyes are on you instantly, bright and nosy as always.
“You good, cutie?” he drawls, tipping his head, curls falling over his cheek. “You look like you just saw your report card.”
You force a shaky laugh and wave him off. “Just… gas.”
He hums, unconvinced. Meanwhile, your heat is blooming too fast, rising under your skin, threatening to drag you under. Why weren’t the suppressants working well?
Another cramp snarls through your abdomen. You grip the table edge.
His eyes narrow. “Okay. That wasn’t a ‘gas’ thing. What’s going on?”
Your pulse skitters. You need relief. Something to anchor you. You swallow hard and manage, “Your… your pheromones. I just—what do they smell like, again?”
There’s a beat where he just blinks. Then his brows lift, slow, almost elegant.
“My pheromones,” he repeats. He leans in like a cat catching a scent trail. “You’ve been hiding something from me, miss bodyguard.”
The way he says it feels like a fingertip down your spine. You don’t answer. You can’t. Another wave hits and you shudder, breath hitching.
Rafayel’s expression shifts, his dramatic flair flickering into something sharper. Calmer. A tone you’ve never heard from him.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
It doesn’t take him much time to drive you back to his place. He carries you down the hall, pushes into his room, and sets you on the bed with a care that barely matches the tension in his body. The scent of him settles around you, curling warm and sweet, thick enough to make your thighs part on instinct.
Rafayel’s gaze drops between your legs, breath stuttering. “Cutie… your scent is driving me insane.”
Your heat spikes at the sound of his voice. You reach for him, dragging him in by his shirt. He kisses you immediately, deep and dizzying, his mouth soft but insistent as your body arches up against him. His pheromones hit you in a hot wave and you moan into his lips.
“Lie back,” he murmurs.
You do, chest rising and falling too fast, the need clawing through your skin. He slides his hands up your thighs, pushes your panties aside, and the moment the cooler air hits you, you gasp.
“cutiee,” he whispers, eyes darkening as slick gathers between your legs. “You’re already dripping.”
You try to squeeze your thighs together but he stops you, fingers pressing them open again. He leans down, kisses the inside of your knee, then your thigh… then settles right between your legs.
The first slow lick of his tongue makes your hips jump. The second pulls a broken sound from your throat. He sucks gently at your swollen clit, breath warm against you, one hand holding your thigh steady while the other slides under your ass to lift your hips closer to his mouth.
Your heat flares. Hard. Violent. You grab at his hair as your back arches off the bed.
“Rafa—Rafayel, I can’t—”
“Yes you can.” His voice is thick, hungry. “You need this, don’t you?”
Before you can answer, he flattens his tongue against you and pushes two fingers inside you. Your body clamps down instantly, drawing them deeper. The relief is so sharp you whimper, hips rocking helplessly.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Let me take care of you today, miss bodyguard.”
You fall apart on his fingers, pleasure hitting so fast you barely manage a gasp before the orgasm crashes over you. He doesn’t pull back. He keeps licking you through it, his spit mixing with the sweet syrup you ooze out. He keeps fucking you with his fingers until the overstimulation burns into need again.
You’re shaking when he finally lifts his head. His lips and chin are slick with you. His pupils blown wide.
“Round one.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawls up your body, kissing your stomach, your ribs, your throat. “You’re not done, cutie.”
You barely register his clothes being pulled off him, his body settling over yours, his cock heavy and leaking against your soaked entrance. He cups your face, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.
Your eyes meet his and his pheromones roll out in a deep, sweet rush that goes straight to your spine.
The second he pushes into you, your breath breaks. The stretch is intense, perfect, your walls gripping him so tight he groans against your ear.
“Warm… so warm…” His hips snap forward, burying him fully inside you. “suuuch a sweet pussy. Clinging so pathetically.”
You cling to him, heat twisting your nerves raw as he starts to thrust. Slow at first, deep enough to make your toes curl. Then faster, his grip tightening on your waist as he pounds into your syrupy cunt, every stroke hitting the spot that makes your vision blur.
Your legs lock around him. “ohhmmhhh ye—rafayel—ah—please—”
He catches your wrists and pins them above your head, leaning down until his forehead touches yours. “I know. Just take it. You need it reeal bad.”
His thrusts get sharper. Harder. The bed creaks. Sweat slicks your bodies together. The smell of your heat and his pheromones mixes into something thick, intoxicating. Your climax builds hot and brutal, tearing through you the moment his thumb drops to your clit.
You cry his name. Your poor cunt spasms around him. He groans, hips jerking as he presses as deep as your body will take him.
He fills you. Hot. Thick. Pulse after pulse until you’re trembling under him, stuffed full of his creamy goodness.
But he doesn’t soften.
He kisses your jaw, breath shaky. “That’s two.”
“wha—angh!”
His hips roll again, slow, deliberate, keeping everything inside you.
“You’re not done,” he whispers, licking into your mouth as he starts moving again. “Your heat wants more.”
And he gives it to you. Again. And again. Until the room smells like nothing but the two of you tangled in instinct and sweat and pleasure, until you lose count of rounds and the world narrows to the feeling of his body claiming yours until your heat finally, finally settles.
Rafayel collapses beside you, pulls you against his chest, and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Next time,” he murmurs into your hair, “just ask nicely, baby.”
黎深 ZAYNE LI
"breeding.”
—Is the last word you’d use with Zayne. much less ask for it. Yet here you are after his little pheromone outburst at the hospital. You’d lied about being a beta right from the beginning. Avoided the Akso hospital to get yourself checked, avoided Zayne half your high school after you bloomed late.
All because of one thing—like his evol, Zayne had a hard time containing his pheromones. and being a decently dominant alpha, his pheromones would often push omegas around him into heat.
As it did to you when you thought of visiting him to drop by lunch. The moment you entered his office, your knees weakened. Your stomach twisted in painful knots. and he—he had to rush you back home after learning everything. Even your unhealthy dosage of heat suppressants that you ingested each month because of him.
“I’m not leaving until you’re alright.” He kneels by your bed as you curl up in pain.
“s’not your f-faul-fuckinsonofa—” you breathe once as a cramp hits. “just leave. It’s—” a breath again “…fine.”
“untrue.” His jaw flexes. Adamant idiot. It’s the pain that makes your brain fry enough to forget all boundaries.
“breeding. Tha—aghh—! Is what’ll stop it.”
You don’t give him a chance to process before your lips are crashing with his. He freezes for a moment until he melts into it, slowly rising from the floor and onto the bed when you clutch his collar.
“there is a high chance this might result in unwanted—”
“I know. We’ll get me some pills.” You huff, guiding his hand to your soaked, hot cunt.
His wrist twists, catching yours. “are you certain?” his eyes are softer. Scared.
You nod. And then cup his face despite your womb internally punching you.
“of course.” With that, he pulls you on him, keeping you close, thighs against his knees.
His fingers find the edge of your panties, slipping through easily. Two fingers circle your entrance before pushing in. you grind on his lap. His hips lift for a moment, chasing that friction.
You whimper in pain and that’s what makes Zayne finally pull out his cock. Thick, heavy and so, sooo ready to ruin you.
But the moment you lift your hips to finally sink, your cramp hits.
“I’ve got you.” he murmurs, stroking your hair with one hand and the other guiding his leaky tip to your pussy.
Your hips roll once and you wince again. “stop.” His brows furrow in a silent correction.
“relax.” He murmurs as he eases into you, slowly, filling every inch sooo good that it has you whimpering. Your walls stretch around him inch by inch.
“zay—mmhh so—” your eyes roll back, mouth open.
He lets out a soft sound at the way you clutch around him so perfectly. Fit him like a fuckin glove.
His hips raise once. Testing. And judging by your already fucked out look, he thrusts harder this time. your nails dig into his shoulders as your own hips roll once the pain ebbs away giving way to molten pleasure.
Your walls flutter around him at each kiss of his cock to your overly welcoming womb.
“m’so close…” you whisper, burying your head into his neck, breathing in his scent that singlehandedly calms your pain. His fingers find your clit, rubbing taut circles on your swollen nub, smearing your arousal over it.
Your pussy keeps clamping around him tighter and tighter and tighter—
“c-cumming—ohhhmy—zaynee—” he fills you to the hilt, giving your syrupy, greedy walls something to milk.
And ohhh that you do. Enough to have him explode into you, filling you with hot ribbons of cum, making it cream around your hole—mixing with your honey.
He slowly sets you down are you come down from your high. But his cock is insistent. Still hard, still keeping you full of him.
“s’not enough—” your hand comes down to your stomach. But Zayne captures it, bringing it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist.
“then let me satisfy you.” He pulls back only to fill you up again.
Messy strings of his cum dribbles out of you, spilling onto the sheets. His hips move again, this time—pounding you.
Deep, looong strokes, each reaching the end of you and back out.
“hngh—m’too full—” you babble, moans stuck in your throat.
His hands part your thighs, hiking them up so your body can take him deeper if that were even possible.
Your walls flutter around him hungrily again with every deep thrust, your hips rolling on instinct as he fills you relentlessly. Strings of his cum mix with your arousal, dripping down the curve of your thighs, and the scent—his pheromones, his essence—wraps around you, making you all hot and coaxing you towards your orgasm.
“Zayne—mhh… s-so deep…” you whimper, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he keeps moving, slow at first, then harder. A cocktail that messes your brain chemistry.
Each stroke hits that perfect spot, and you sob, lost between pleasure and the ache that still lingers from your heat.
His hands move to your waist, holding you firmly, but gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, almost tender, brushing a strand of sweat-damp hair from your temple. “I wish I could control it—”
You shake your head weakly, lips parting in a soft moan. “S’not your fault… Zayne,” you breathe, tilting your head to kiss his jawline, tasting the mixture of him and yourself. “I’ve always wanted you.”
He groans softly at your confession, letting it wash over him before pressing back into you, hips snapping against yours with a fresh, deliberate force.
“cum for me, my sweet.” A kiss is planted to your temple. “please.” He adds softly as he reaches down to rub your clit, pushing you closer to your climax.
But he beats you to it. Breeding you full—once more—giving you everything you’ve begged for tonight. Still, he mumbles apologies, thrusting into you—pushing through his overstimulation. He nearly cries out when you cum around him for the last time tonight.
⭑.ᐟ #SYNOPSIS who knew you could cum so hard that you end up squirting!
⭑.ᐟ #GENRE smut, porn with no plot
⭑.ᐟ #INCLUDES Zayne, Caleb (seperated)
⭑.ᐟ #CONTENT WARNING fem!reader | explicit content | no guaranteed spoilers of main/side quests | established relationship | possible grammar errors | not proof read | squirting | fingering | pet names | mention of overstimulation | toy use (dildo) | oral (fem) | authors note at end
ZAYNE
You are twitching, jolting, and shivering lightly from the overwhelming stimulation fed to your body, mind completely muffled and blank— no coherent thoughts or sentences, just moans of Zayne’s name leave your kiss-swollen lips. There’s a gentle, warm breath fanning directly onto your exposed chest; skin coated in spit and bite marks, nipples perky, puffy, and swollen from the constant attention they have gotten. Once in a while, warm lips would wrap around the glistening bud, nursing at it, sucking into your back arches off the bed mindlessly. . bucking your hips widely.
There are two thick fingers sliding through your sopping, fat folds— dragging up and down, fingers smearing your syrupy juices all over your messy pussy. One finger gently teases your quivering entrance, barely dipping in before dragging your arousal back to your aching clit. . rolling the bud in circles until you gasp in delight. You tangle your hands in Zayne’s hair, holding and tugging onto the strands in ecstasy.
“Nghhh—! Haaah, a- stop teasing meee, Zaynie’. . I-i need moree!” You drool out from your stupor, whimpering when he suckles harder onto your nipple. . moaning softly to send vibrations through your body.
Your body reacts wonderfully to Zayne’s touch, it’s becoming increasingly harder to deny you that sweet pleasure you desire when you beg so unapologetically to your husband. Two slender fingers pressed against your hole, plunging to hilt of your pussy with a welt squealchh— stretching your walls sooo perfectly it has you choking on a moan. You gasp on his name, toes curling up, shivering helplessly from that burning pleasure.
He groans against your chest, finally releasing your nipples— teasing the bud by gently nibbling until you squeal. Instead, he roughly drags his tongue against your nipple, to the valley between your mounds, then to your other breast— giving it that same sweet treatment. Zayne’s fingers reaches soo deep, curling and slamming into your velvety walls with an obscure sloshh of your wet cunt.
The inside of Zayne’s hand slaps meanly into your puffy clit with every thrust of his fingers back into your greedy warmth, sending delightful shocks of pleasure through your already exhausted body. You can barely keep up, melting into the sheets as he explores your cunt— fingers somehow pressing deeper into your gooey walls, your arousal coating the base of his digits.
“Mmh. . doing soo perfectly for me, sweetheart” Zayne murmurs against your chest, foggy glasses pressing into your skin as he tilts his head for a better angle to lap and drag his tongue against your nipple.
You whine in response, gasping loudly when the temperature of his skin seems to drop too quickly. Synchronized, goosebumps erupts all over your body, shivering from his cool touch. One of Zayne’s hands presses hard onto your belly, fingers still positioning deep into your drooling hole.
Through scrunched up eyes, you can barely see Zayne peering up at you with lust and hungry filled eyes. He gazes at your body, drinking up every single once of your reactions to his touch; twitching, jumping, shaky breaths, he’s remembering every single one. He perfectly curls his fingers until he presses against your g-spot, the hand off your plush belly pressing harder as he thrusts his fingers into your spasming hole.
“Haah—! O-oh fuck! Nngh. . fe- feels toooo good!” You wail out, eyes rolling back as your back arches once again.
That subtle heat in your lower belly is now bold and loud, you’re sooo close to cumming. It’s just that, this feels more intense and hotter than you expected. Your skin feels more heated and stimulated.
“Mmhp—! Z- Zayne!” You squeal out, hands tugging at his hair as he groans from the tiny pain.
Your velvety walls quiver and tighten around his fingers, sucking him deeper as he miraculously keeps his same pace— a medium pace but he presses deeper into your pussy with every thrust. You can barely string words together, squealing in ecstasy when that boiling, white hot pleasure explodes in your belly. Your juices squirt from your sopping pussy, the liquid spraying onto Zayne’s arm and hands.
It’s messy, your whimpering and tears are dripping from your eyes, hips jolting and shaking from how intense your orgasm was. Zayne didn’t seem to mind, eyes shut as he enjoys the way your nipples jolt against his tongue— fingers still steady fucking into your sloppy hole.
By time you ride your orgasm, Zayne is dragging his tongue against your heated skin until he reaches your dripping and glistening pussy.
“Mmh? N- no! P- please, I can’t handle it —nghh!” You mumble out barely coherent words, intensely trembling when he drags his tongue through your syrupy folds.
“Just let me clean you up, my beloved” he murmurs against your fat pussy lips, tongue dragging from your hole to your twitching clit— suckling onto the nerve until you squirm.
CALEB
Your breathing is completely erotic and ragged, it’s becoming awfully hard to breathe when the pleasure is overwhelming. You’re twitching and shivering in ecstasy; your body is burning hot, slick and glistening from sweat, lower belly stained by your own juices. It’s not just the pleasure that’s making it hard to breathe, it’s from Caleb— pistoning a thick dildo, molded after his cock, to ram deep into your raw cunt with an obscure squealchh.
“Hnng—! I. . fu- fuckk!” You gasp out between breathless moans, back arching off the bed every time the dildo kisses at your g-spot.
The toy can easily press into your most sensitive spots, just like Caleb can, it’s delicious the way it stretches out your velvety walls. Your thighs tremble violently, walls spasming and quivering around the toy— sobbing out your boyfriend’s name when he engulfs your clit in his hungry mouth, suckling onto the puffy bud. He drags his tongue against the engorged hood, smearing his tongue against your clit in a slow manner. . up and down.
The dildo was fucking deeper into you now, relentless, each push of the toy was aimed directly at that spot inside you that made your toes curl and your vision blur— eliciting breathless sobs from your swollen lips. Caleb’s lips wrap around your poor clit, sucking hard. You let out a broken yelp of his name, Caleb, eyes rolling back so far as his tongue flicks at the hood of the engorged bud.
The pleasure is becoming too much for your poor, overwhelmed body to handle. Being so thoroughly filled by a thick dildo while your clit was being suckled and lapped at by a rough tongue; your kind counselor focused on anything beside Caleb and how he’s making you feel sooo good.
“Haaah—! F- feels too good, ngh!” You squeal out loudly, hips bucking widely at the pleasure.
“Mmhp—! Ca- Caleb!” You whine out, tears clinging to the corner of your eyes.
Caleb drags his tongue firmly against the swollen flesh of your bud, sneaking his spit all over your messy pussy. He’s loud, groaning, moaning, and whining into your pussy— the vibrations coursing through your body, eliciting a sob from you.
“Haah. . mmh? Yes?” Caleb hums out in response to you whimpering out his name, his warm breath fanning onto your exposed clit— there’s a pleasurable wave of heat that pools down to your cunt, arousal gushing around the toy.
He suckles back onto your clit, the non-stop attention he gives you is enough to have you squirming and writhing from the pleasure. Your clit, swollen, buzzing, and glistening from arousal, is throbbing in pleasure when Caleb drags his tongue against the bud over and over. It’s like he can’t keep his mouth unoccupied for too long, he needs to keep his mouth against your pussy.
“Nngh—! O- oh fuckkk. .” You wail out loudly, velvety walls tightening around the didlo— juices pooling at the base of the toy.
It’s messy. The wet squealch of your sopping pussy, the obscure slurping sound of Caleb lapping at your clit like his life depended on it. That heat in your lower belly is warm, it has you violently shivering in ecstasy.
And Caleb, he’s just as messy; unapologetically loud when slurping at your puffy clit. That slurping sounds, squelching, and muffled moans, groans, and grunts against your mound is loud. Once again, he
hums against your pussy, suckling and lapping at your cunt like his life depends on it, shamelessly moaning your poor, buzzing clit.
“I ne- need more of you. . give me mo-more. .—“ he murmurs against your clit, one of his hands digging greedily into the fat of your thighs to push you open wider— simultaneously forcing your fat folds to part.
“Haah. . nngh, w- wanna cumm” you drool out, rolling your head back to lay against the pillow.
Your hips are relentless, bucking and squirming from him. Yet, Caleb pays no mind to it, he’s too big lewdly and erotically lapping at whatever sensitive skin of yours he can. Perhaps he’s gone completely drunk at how sweet you are— sweet, you taste just like how he imagined you would.
That thick toy, pressing deep and roughly into your g-spot, has you choking on air. And with a loud cry of Caleb’s name, your gooey walls clamp down tightly around the dildo, your juices spraying from your stuffy hole.
“Oooh-! Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. .” You babble over words, incoherent as white, hot heat was all you could see.
The bed is completely soaked in your sticky juices, some of your juices managed to land onto your lower stomach. And yet, he still gently presses the toy back into your drooling hole, slowly plunging in and out.
“Wahh—! O- oh fuck. . Caleb. shit. . can’t—“ is all that you can say, words dying at the tip of your tongue when he suckles roughly onto your clit.
“C’mon, baby. . one more time! Wanna see you squirt like that again. .” Caleb gulps, eyes completely blown out in pleasure.
⭑.ᐟ # All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block („• ֊ •„)
♯┆AUTHOR NOTE .ᐟ ★ Finally, I got the chance to write for at least two characters, sorry for the late post! Anyways, I’ll be working hard for my next WIP, Royal bedding<33
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.”
obsessive, possessive & violent—they love you. they’d do anything for you. everything they do is for you because you’re all they need. you can’t leave them, you’re meant to be together always & forever. — wc. 5.8k
STARRING ♱ xavier ⌇zayne ⌇rafayel ⌇sylus ⌇caleb
WARNINGS ♱ HEAVY YANDERE THEMES, DARK CONTENT, possessiveness, obsession, manipulation — (zayne) bsf!zayne, dacryphilia, love bombing, extreme jealousy, mentions of m*rder, cervix fking, rough!zayne — (sylus) needy, pssy drunk!sylus, lots of m*rder lol, cervix fking — (rafayel) STALKER!RAF, mean dom!raf, allusions to unaliving reader’s dates, overstimulation, fear play/kink, creamp¡e — (caleb) lovesick!caleb, established relationship, mentions of caleb unaliving people, secret cameras, MANIPULATIVE!CALEB, isolation, fear kink, use of good girl — (xavier) clingy!xavier, hoovering, established (enmeshed) relationship, baby trapping, false security, backshots — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+
KIT’S NOTE ♱ HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BEAUTIFUL LOVES. i hope u all enjoy my first attempt at writing yandere themes (i know some of it isn’t very yandere but whatever). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONSUMING. if you see something that isn’t in the warnings and should be, please let me know :,). also special shoutout to @xinghuisknight for reading xavie’s part and making me continue writing this hc. i love u n happy birthday ior <3 — COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE SOOO APPRECIATED!!
#ZAYNE — MEANT TO BE YOURS
you love your best friend. he’s there for you through thick and thin, steady and unwavering—yet you’re completely oblivious. zayne has loved you for years, ever since the moment he met you. he was never meant to be just your best friend—no, he was meant to be yours. and you were always supposed to be his.
it took everything in him not to break when you got your first boyfriend. he’d fall asleep thinking of you being touched by another man and then he’d dream of all the ways he’d murder him with his bare hands. it drove him mad to share you with someone else, but he wouldn’t lose you. he could never lose you without completely losing himself.
but then you break up.
you show up at his place with swollen, red lips and tear tracks dried into your skin, eyes dull in a way that makes his chest cave in. he takes one look at you and understands everything without a word.
you don’t have to say a damn thing because he knows you and your boyfriend have been having issues lately—all his fault, of course—so he sets his jaw and lets you in and you tell him everything. you tell him all the mean things he called you, how he hated that you were friends with zayne, how he accused you of cheating.
and zayne’s never killed before, never even seriously imagined it beyond his dreams—but right now, it feels inevitable. that son of a bitch thought he could call you names? accuse you, the sweetest girl to walk the earth, of something so nasty, so despicable… the man that made his pretty girl look like this… he’s already sealed his fate. he’ll be dealt with, but for now… now he has to take care of you.
you’re weeping into his chest, hiccuping while he rubs your back. your broken sobs pull at his heart strings, “h-he said i-i was awful—that–ugh, that he deserved s-someone better.” your hands fist at his shirt in anger and hurt and confusion. “he-he told me to pick b-between you ‘n him.”
zayne freezes, throat running dry. he’d been quiet this whole time, letting you cry it out while he thinks of all the ways he could kill the man, but now, he can’t bite his tongue. “and what did you say?” his heart runs wild as he impatiently waits for the words to slip out of your meek little mouth.
you look up at him, staring into his jade eyes, noting the way his pupils nearly swallow the pretty color whole. unbeknownst to you, it’s the look of love. pure, unadulterated love.
“i-i chose you.”
his heart bursts, and he knows it’s wrong—knows he shouldn’t—but he can’t ignore it. years and years of yearning, of aching for even the smallest piece of your love, have made him greedy. he leans in, presses his lips to yours. you tense in shock at first, but he’s so gentle, so careful, that you almost immediately melt into him.
and the longer your lips linger against his, the needier zayne becomes. your mouth parts in a soft gasp, and he takes it as his chance, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
it’s so wrong to take advantage of you like this—that thought rattles endlessly in his mind. but then he hears your moan. then he feels the way you melt against him, comfortable, familiar, almost as if you’ve been imagining this moment for just as long as he has. and after that, he can’t bring himself to stop.
he can’t stop the way he flips you on to your back, or the way he hungrily devours your mouth or the sharp exhales through his nose as he tries to catch his breath without pulling off of you. he needs you. he’s needed you for years.
and now… now he finally has you, and he plans on making you his forever.
your clothes are off, tears still slipping out of your eyes as your heart aches for him. not your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—but for zayne. for the friend that’s always been so close, yet so out of reach.
he’s lining his thick, hard cock to your dripping entrance before he stops and looks at you. “i-is this okay?” he asks, voice gruff and heavy. his dark eyes burn into your bloodshot ones and they soften—just the slightest bit. “i know you’re sad, but i-i can make it better. i can fix it. i can make you feel better than he ever has, but you need to tell me it’s okay, sweetheart… please.”
he’s not sure if the beg is for you to say yes, or if it’s a plea for him to finally be let in. maybe it’s both. regardless, when you nod and whisper, “yes, please. make it better, zaynie. please,”
everything flies out the window.
all his inhibitions. all the restraint. all the times he bit his tongue and swallowed his wants—gone. along with his ability to be as gentle as you deserve.
“you’re mine.” he pants, cock thrusting into you with vigor. “you’ve always fucking been m-mine.” his hands push at the back of your thighs, pushing them back till your knees knock against your chest. “i’ve loved you—all these years, i’ve loved you.”
your arms wrap around his neck and you sob for a completely different reason now. because you feel so good—he’s so deep and he’s hitting every spot the way it was meant to be hit and he’s saying all these things you’ve wanted to hear for as long as you’ve known him.
“z-zayne—” you start but it’s cut off by a sharp cry when his cock rams against your cervix. “oh my god!”
“i don’t want to hear you say anything until i’m done—let me finish.” he warns, voice dripping with a newfound resentment. “you were always supposed to be mine, sweet girl. and that… that pathetic excuse of a man took you from me.” he rambles, pounding harder and harder.
“i took care of you… i-i—fuck, sweetheart, i just love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”
and you can’t help yourself. his words make your stomach toss and turn and on his last syllable, you just break. like a dam that’s been filled to the brim, you fall apart right then and there, creaming his cock.
he groans and it only excites him further. he fucks you through your orgasm, repeatedly hitting the sensitive spongey part with his tip as he leans in close and murmurs. “you were meant for me… made for me.” he says.
“you were made to be mine.”
#SYLUS — IN MY ROOM
there’s no love purer than sylus’s. he’s said it before—multiple times at that. you were endeared by it. sylus’s gentle touches and soft words despite his frigid exterior.
but sylus isn’t always gentle touches and soft words. he can be mean, rough… nasty. especially when he finds someone to be a threat. you don’t see it, but he seethes when another person touches you. his heart aches when you’re away. his brain is infested with the thought of you.
mephisto is so special to him. yes, he loves the mechanical bird, but he loves you more. he’d die without the crow because without him, he can’t keep tabs on you and without his bird’s eyes on you, he spirals out of control.
your missions are especially hard for sylus. he always makes mephisto go with you because at least then he can tend to business in the n-109 zone while concurrently keeping an eye on you, but this time you refused. words along the lines of “i’ll be back soon–a week max. mephie doesn’t need to come with me.”
and sylus prides himself in being a man that gives his partner the autonomy of choice. he’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to—but he wishes he could. he wishes he could keep you at the base within arms reach. he wishes he could make you leave the association and move out of your tiny, shitty apartment so that you gave him all your attention. he wishes to never be apart from you.
he never says these things, though. he never wants to be too much—too suffocating, too overbearing. but moments like this make him unravel. when you’re away on missions in distant regions, not answering his calls or texts, and mephisto isn’t there to keep an eye on you, something in him snaps just a little. and sylus gets… a bit unhinged.
or maybe very unhinged.
sylus is level headed in every sense until it comes to you. he’s even tempered until you’ve gone two weeks without contact. then things get messy.
every one of his “business” meetings over the two weeks you’re gone ends in bloodshed. sylus kills everyone who looks at him wrong. everyone that tries to lowball him. everyone in his fucking way.
he’s disheveled when you arrive back at the base. you’re not much better—stress and fatigue etched into your features. you trudge inside, dropping your bags by the door, and when you blink, sylus is suddenly right in front of you.
and you see it. the fear in his eyes.
everything he refuses to say is written there—in his gaze, in the tension of his body, in the way his breaths come uneven, almost staggering, like he’s been holding himself together by sheer will alone.
“where were you, sweetheart?” he whispers, hands cradling your face as he tilts it up to meet his gaze. “when you said a few days, i didn’t think you meant sixteen.” it’s meant to be a joke—but it doesn’t sound like one. not even close.
“the mission ran longer than we anticipated, and there was no cell signal, so i couldn’t get back to you. but i’m okay…” you smile, teasing despite the way the usual light in your eyes has dulled just a bit. “don’t tell me you were worried about me. did the big, bad leader of onychinus really not have anything to keep him busy while i was gone?”
you probably shouldn’t have poked fun. not when he’s this raw. not when he was worried half to death, haunted by the thought that he might never see you again.
it’s exactly how you end up folded in half, knees touching your ears while he fucks into you. it’s not too fast, not too slow, but it’s at the perfect speed. his fat cock fills you to the brim and stuffs your hallowed out stomach. you’ve missed this stretch, this undeniable full feeling and he’s certainly missed you. you can tell in his expression… his words.
sylus is finally being honest.
“you can’t just leave me like that, sweetie,” he pants, hands on both sides of your head. “you don’t even know what i’ve been through these past two weeks.”
you feel every ridge of his cock, every inch of him and it drives you up a wall. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.
“i can’t be good without you… i won’t feel whole without you,” his breathy whispers fan across your face as his red eyes bore into yours. his right eye burns brighter than the darkened left, and you can’t help but stare. “i am nothing without you, my love.”
you inhale sharply—partly from the way his thrusts grow deeper, rougher, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. and partly from his words. from the rawness of them. the desperation. you’ve never heard anything like it before—never from him.
“sylus…” you whimper.
“i need you.” he says, repeating it like a mantra. he needs you to understand it. “i need you… i need you. if i could keep you in this bed forever, i would. i never want you to leave again.”
that’s when he loses it. the pace of his thrusts pick up and he’s ramming against your cervix, eliciting a sharp sob of pained pleasure from you. he’s completely out of his mind, fucking you sensless like you’re some type of rag doll.
“you’re not allowed to do that anymore.” he grunts, eyes struggling to stay open as they keep rolling back in the delicious pleasure. he could just fucking die in this pussy and he’d be so content. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t care what happens. “you can’t leave, i won’t allow it.”
your garbled words lace in your words, “i won’t—i-i, i won’t leave—fuh, fuck, sylus—” you promise, your nails digging into his back, leaving red crescents in their wake. “please, s-slow down.”
“shhh, baby, you can take it—you take it every time. so pretty and perfect, all for me.” he presses his forehead against yours and stares at your screwed shut eyes. “my perfect girl.”
you tighten around him, and the sound that tears from both of you is raw and guttural. it’s almost too much—so intense and so good— you can’t help but melt beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful enough to leave you shaking. sylus keeps whispering about how much he needs you, voice breaking in your ear while you convulse and whimper under him.
he presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as your legs wrap tight around his slender waist. he comes deep inside you with broken groans of “i love you” against your mouth, hips stuttering as ribbon after ribbon spills into you.
afterward, he collapses on top of you, cock still hard, but exhaustion has claimed you both. so you just lie there—bodies pressed together, breath slowly evening out, your mixed cum leaking from between your thighs as the moment settles around you.
“i’ll never let you out of my sight again.”
#RAFAYEL — SHE
you’re not usually like this on first dates. you don’t let them take you back to their place and eat you out till you’re in tears. you don’t usually let them fuck you till you pass out. you prefer to take things slow, steady. really get to know someone inside and out before you even let them kiss you. you’re the opposite of easy—you’re hard to get, practically unattainable, but tonight is different.
you’re first date with rafayel makes you feel away you’ve never felt before. it’s like he’s known you for years. he’s already aware of all your ticks, your mannerisms and the things that piss other men off? he welcomes them. he calls it cute. he finishes your sentences like he’s reading your mind. he guesses what your order is at the restaurant you brought him to—your favorite ever—and he guesses correctly. you call it a coincidence, saying he’s perceptive. observant. he’s just into you.
if you were a little less oblivious, you’d know it’s more than a coincidence. you’d know that rafayel has been watching you since long before you met on the stupid dating app. the first time you met wasn’t on bumble. no, you met a year prior—well, he met you.
you’d spilled your coffee outside a cafe next to the art gallery that housed his paintings. you were beautiful. more than that—you were perfect. the way you cursed under your breath. the way you apologized to the asshole who bumped into you in the first place. he was captivated. it was almost like he’d known you in another life.
that’s what had him following you. it was innocent at first—just watching you from afar. you happened to be a regular at the cafe and he took note of that. he’d watch you for hours type away at your laptop, drank in the way you’d gnaw at your lip and the pinch of your eyebrows every time you got frustrated, or every time your lips would twitch when you would find something amusing.
innocent.
then it turned to something more than that. rafayel found himself following you home. watching you change in your window, blinds wide open like you want someone to catch you.
and then he got addicted to it—watching you. following you. memorizing your schedule and routine. it made him hard to watch you. to think about what you smell like… what you taste like… how pretty you’d look crying on his dick. every night he’d go home to his place, wrap a hand around his leaky, aching cock and stroke himself to the mental image of you he’s burned into his brain.
he barely slept. he’d stay up late into the night and paint you. he’s memorized you. every curve. every strand of hair on your head. every feature—they’re all filed away in his brain.
his last straw comes when he watches you go on date after date, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides. thanks to him, you’ve never gone on more than one date with the same man. they’re nobodies. wastes of space. he’s looked into every single one of them, and not one is worthy of you—so they don’t deserve a place in your life.
he knows you’re meant to be with him. he’s always known. and that’s when he finally takes matters into his own hands and downloads the dating app.
that’s essentially how you end up in your current position, throat hoarse from all your screams of pleasure. you’re overstimulated, pussy sore, but he keeps going. fucking you into oblivion. after all, he’s waited for this for a whole year.
your ankles rest on his shoulders while your hands cover your sweaty, heated face, his cock fucking you fast and deep the same way it has been for the past hour and a half.
“raf—hgnh, rafayel! p-please, oh my god,” you cry, your voice breaking as you beg for mercy. “i can’t take it—please, please.”
he groans, length twitching inside of your sensitive pussy at the sound of your pleads. “but you feel so good, cutie,” he responds breathlessly, a teasing lilt in his voice before it drops—lower, darker. “do you know how long i’ve waited for this?”
you whimper, panting out a confused, “wh-what? you waited all night for this?”
he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it sounds strained. almost pained. he shakes his head and leans in to whisper, “no, silly girl. i’ve waited months for this.”
your eyes shoot open and you look into his. the twinkle that was there when he’d introduced himself to you earlier this evening is replaced with thunderstorms. newfound darkness. it makes your body lock up in fear, pussy tightening around him. this brings a wicked smile to his face.
“don’t be scared, pretty. i’ll take good care of you.” he swears, wrapping his hands around your ankles, fingers so gentle on your skin. “i’m the only one who can take care of you… the only one who deserves you.”
you’re not sure why your fight or flight never kicks in. it should—everything about this is fucked beyond belief. your date—the one you’ve only just met—knows you. has known you for months. maybe longer.
but your stomach still flutters. maybe you like it. like whatever… this is. maybe you’re drunk on the feeling, but his words only sink deeper, winding tight and turning you on even more. your back arches, a sharp, helpless moan tearing from your throat, loud enough to mix with the wet sounds of his hips snapping against yours.
“you like that, huh?” he taunts. “‘m gonna make you fall for me. take such good care of you that you’ll never be able to think of anyone but me ever again.”
“oh, fuck,” you sob. “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. raf, fuck!”
“yeah, go ahead and cream my cock again, princess. it’s yours. i’m yours.” the pace of his thrusts quickens, each snap more frantic than the last, and his words hitch on a breathy whimper—an unmistakable sign that he’s close too. “i’m all yours—and you’re mine now. i-i won’t let you get away that easy.”
the knot in your stomach snaps, exploding all at once as you drench his cock in syrupy arousal. your body jerks uncontrollably for the nth time, thrashing beneath him, and he’s the only thing keeping you steady—anchoring you as it rips through you.
“i’m gonna cum inside—i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum and make you mine,” he doesn’t ask—it’s a statement. he’s just telling you, and you don’t protest. not even a little.
you take it. you let him fill you all the way up, feel his cock throb and twitch wildly and take every drop of cum, giving it a home in your cunt. he groans so prettily and you whimper at the warmth blooming inside of you.
“you’ve always been my girl and now i have proof.”
#CALEB — STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
caleb is sick. so lovesick it’s twisted him into someone almost unrecognizable. he’s no longer the sweet boy from your childhood—no. now that caleb is yours and you are caleb’s, you’ve seen what lives beneath the cracks in his carefully kept exterior. he hides cameras in your apartment. he tracks you constantly. he’s planted a fear so deep in you that if you’re ever caught with someone else—friend or not—while ignoring his texts or calls, something very bad will happen.
in short, caleb would kill for you. you’re pretty sure he already has.
you love him—you love your caleb more than anything. he’s your sun. he treats you like a princess. he makes you feel whole. and yet, his actions terrify you. you can’t leave him, even though you know, deep down, you probably should. you should run. people have told you to run. simone, especially. but leaving would break both of you.
you make it a rule not to talk about caleb in your home when friends are over, because you know he’s listening. but when simone comes by, she can’t help herself.
“you need to leave him,” she says out of the blue and your blood goes cold. “[name], he’s basically holding you hostage—you only ever talk to caleb, i haven’t seen you outside of the association in weeks.”
“he’s not holding me hostage, simone,” you sigh, praying she drops it. you know she wants the best for you, but you don’t want to have this conversation right now. “can we not talk about him?”
“i’m just saying, [name], he’s sick. i think there’s something wrong with him and i just want you to be careful.” she says before grabbing her bag to leave.
—
caleb’s eyes are red when you see him at your doorstep two hours later. you pull him in and you know what’s wrong… you know he heard your chat with simone. you know he’s in his head, spiraling out of control.
“baby,” you murmur, pulling him by the wrist inside your place. “come on, come inside.”
he doesn’t even let you explain—the second he’s inside and the door is shut, he’s on you. his big, strong arms hoop around your body and pull you against him. your inhaling his natural musk and he’s buried in the crook of your neck apologizing profusely.
“i’m sorry i can’t be what you need,” he says, shakily. the words breaking your heart as you run a soothing hand up and down his broad back. “i don’t deserve you, pips, but please… please don’t leave me. i need you.”
you embrace him tightly, “oh caleb,” your sad voice just barely above a whisper. “caleb, ‘m not—i won’t leave you.”
he pulls away from your neck, violet eyes turned dark purple when you see them for the second time. “promise?”
you nod wearily, but still, with no hesitation, reply with, “promise.”
and then he’s kissing you. soft at first, then it’s rough. so rough that it almost gives you whiplash. he’s kissing you, tongue roaming your mouth while he guides you to your bedroom, whimpering into your mouth.
you’re thrown off when he gently shoves you against the bed. you stumble with a gasp and take in the shift in his demeanor. caleb looks mean. the boyfriend that was crying into your neck, begging you not to leave him looks nothing like the man that towers over you.
he’s slow when he unbuttons his pants and when he pulls off his shirt. he stares at you, clocking every movement of your body— the increasing rate of which your chest rises and falls, the way there’s a sense of fear paired with excitement swimming in your pretty eyes—his eyes never leave yours..
“you understand that you can’t leave me, right?” he says, voice low. “that you can never leave me?” he says, stalking towards you slowly.
you nod and he shakes his head. “say it.” his sweet voice drips with dominance. “fucking tell me you understand.”
your breath hitches as his hands begin to strip your clothes off. “i-i understand. i won’t leave you.”
“good girl,” he murmurs, continuing to work your clothes off till you’re in nothing but cotton panties. “you wanna know why you can’t leave?” he joins you on the bed, spreading your legs open and occupying the space between them.
you nod and he simply slips your panties to the side, gathers your arousal on the tip of his cock—effectively leaving you breathless in anticipation—before he presses into you, the fat tip of his length stretching you open.
“because you need me.” he grunts, shoving himself inside of you and watching you crumble so pathetically. “your heart needs me, your body needs me… and this pretty pussy, baby? yeahhh, she needs me the most.”
“caleb!” you gasp, feeling his cock deep in your stomach. “oh, fuck, caleb, w-wait— ‘s too deep.”
“it isn’t,” he growls, thumb catching your swollen clit. “nah, just fuckin’ take it, pretty girl. take this dick ‘n tell me you need it.”
your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a guttural moan. his cock pulls all the way out till his tip is the only inch that peeks inside your tight cunt, before he slams back into you, getting you addicted to him all over again.
“oh my god, please!” you beg when he does it again and again at a monotonous pace. “please, please, caleb, i need it—i need, hah! i need it—need you, caleb.”
the sound that erupts in his chest is practically animalistic. his hand wraps loosely around your throat before his lips press against yours again. is sloppy, uncoordinated—a string of spit connects your lips when he pulls a few centimeters away.
caleb leans in close, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moves against you, each word timed with a rough, unrelenting thrust. “you. need. me.” his grip around your throat tightens, certainty ringing through him as he repeats it like a promise—or maybe… maybe it’s a warning. “you need me. you’ll always need me, no one else.”
tears prick in your eyes at the pained pleasure shooting through your body. he squeezes your throat tighter, watching your eyes roll in ecstasy. so pretty and so fucked out and so his. you’re perfect. he can never let you go. he won’t.
how could he when you were meant to be together forever?
#XAVIER — ALWAYS BE MY BABY
you knew xavier was a little… toxic, to put it lightly, when you agreed to be his girlfriend. you knew he was possessive by nature—clingy, territorial, cruel to every man who so much as looked at you for a second too long. and you told yourself you were okay with it. you thought you were okay with it.
but lately, it’s gotten worse. suffocating. you feel like you’re shrinking inside your own life, like there’s no space left that belongs solely to you. every choice, every breath, every step forward is taken with xavier beside you—and it’s too much. it’s all too much.
so when you finally sigh, the words slipping out before you can stop them—“we need to take a break”—he cocks his head, confused.
it’s like a predator’s curiosity.
because… what does that mean? a break from what, exactly? from work? from the hunter’s association?
“what do you mean?” he asks, all wide-eyed and innocent—and that’s what upsets you the most about xavier. he doesn’t realize there’s something wrong with him. he can’t see that the way he feels about you, the way he claims you, has long since crossed the line from devotion into something deeply almost frighteningly abnormal.
you let out a shaky exhale and avert your eyes, sight landing on your feet. “i mean… i think i need to take a break from… you. and you need a break from me…” when you look up, his confused face is gone, replaced with a hardened glare. “we just need space to be our own—“
“no,” he cuts you off, voice nearly robotic when he responds. “no, i don’t need space—i need you. i don’t need a break… i just want to be with you.”
you knew this was coming. you knew he’d try to convince you that you were inevitable—meant and written into each other’s bones. so you sigh and choose honesty, even though it hurts him.
“i love you, xavie. i do. i want to be with you, but…” your voice wavers despite yourself. “…you’re scaring me.”
and something in his eyes goes dark. the familiar starlight you’re used to seeing there fades, thinning until it’s almost gone. “i…” he swallows, disbelief softening his voice in a way that unsettles you. “i scare you?”
“w-well, no—you don’t scare me, scare me,” you rush out, already trying to soften the blow. “you just… you worry me. i’m scared you’re too dependent on me. you chase off every man that looks my way, you’re everywhere i am—” your breath stutters. “it’s just too much for me.”
he stalks towards you and every step he takes forward, you take one back till your back hits his kitchen island. you gasp as he cages you in, arms on both sides of your body. he leans in, cobalt blue eyes swallowed by his dilated, black pupils.
you try to hold your breath, but it’s useless—your senses are flooded with him. he’s all you can see, all you can smell. his scent rattles your brain in a way nothing else ever has, too much of it sinking into you like a drug. and no matter how hard you try to keep your thoughts clear, your resolve unravels when you feel arousal pool low in your belly, heat blooming as it glues your panties to your core.
“you’re all i need… and i should be all you need,” he says, voice dark as it drops octaves lower than its usual range. his eyes bore into yours, lips tugging up ever so slightly. “don’t be scared, angel. you know i’d never hurt you, right? you know all i want is to love you. i’d do anything to keep you all to myself.”
it feels like he’s putting you under some kind of spell. you dig your heels in mentally, forcing yourself to remember why you came here—to stand your ground, to leave, to not fold.
you try to break eye contact, but he won’t let you. his fingers close around your chin, firm and unyielding, pulling your attention right back where he wants it. “no, look at me, honey.” he says, voice low. “answer me: you know i’d never hurt you, right?”
he makes you nod with the grip on your chin. “i-i know.” you reply, voice cracking and stomach jostling.
“you’re safe with me. you’ll always be safe with me.” he says, a smile touching his lips. he leans it, nose brushing against yours as he says, “we’re going to be together forever and ever. i’ll show you.”
—
xavier wastes no time flipping you over and bending you over the island, your face smooshed against the cool marble. your leggings are pulled down and his cock is inside you, exploring every single inch of your cunt with no barrier. you can’t find it in you to protest for him to wear a condom when you feel fuller… when he somehow feels even bigger.
drool seeps from your lips, pooling on the smooth surface as he fucks you senseless almost as if he has something to prove in his thrusts.
he pushes deep into you, grinding his tip against your sweetest spot. “you feel me, honey? feel how i’m fucking you raw?” he grunts the words out, one hand on your waist as the other splays between your shoulder blades. “this is how we’re gonna do it from now on, got it?”
your eyes roll, pussy clamping tight around him. the veins of his cock brand themselves into your walls. he’s ruining you for everyone else. marking his territory.
you can’t even respond—the only noises that can be pulled from you are garbled moans of his name and choked sobs. you’re a complete and utter mess, reduced to nothing but tears, drool and arousal.
he resumes his thrusts, pulling out and ramming back into you. “fuck you raw, fill you with my cum and get you pregnant.” he whispers and it has your eyes shooting open, your stomach hallowing out and your cunt gripping him like never before.
“w-what?” your broken voice rings in his ears and it elicits a little moan from him. his cock twitches wildly inside of you, balls drawing up by the lilt of panic in your voice. “wait—wait, xavie, ‘m, hah! shit, ‘m not on the pill. y-you can’t cum i-inside!”
he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle. “don’t worry, honey,” he says, voice steady. “i’ll take care of you—of us. you just take it. be good and take it because it’s what you’re made for.”
and you do. you give in just like he tells you to, fingers digging into the edge of the countertop as your body betrays you. each movement pulls a sharp, helpless sound from your throat, clipped moans spilling out of you as easily as the warmth gathering between your thighs.
“i promise, this–this… will make us closer,” he pants, thrusts getting quicker as he gets closer and closer to letting go. he’s on the precipice of an orgasm, length throbbing, tummy knotting up. “just hold still.”
then you feel the sudden warmth flooding your pussy. he’s shooting into you, ribbon after ribbon of warm cum while he groans prettily in your ear. it triggers your orgasm, your body convulses as your walls spasm and drench his cock in your slick.
Cw: Smut. Oral. P in V. Thigh riding. Size kink. Panty sniffer Caleb Jealous Xavier. It includes links to 🌽 videos on X for visual examples on what was sent. 🔞 MDNI🔞
Sylus/Xavier/Rafayel/Zayne/Caleb
Yeah*sigh*I'm ovulating again. Enjoy 😝
Part 2 here When they accidentally send you a porn link...
The blue light of your phone screen is the only thing cutting through the darkness of your bedroom. You really should have been asleep an hour ago, instead, you’re spiraling down a rabbit hole you didn't even know existed.
Size kink.
You’d never really thought about it before, not until you started dating Sylus and tonight you were just scrolling, looking for something to satisfy the empty ache Sylus left all week.
This video is something you had never seen before or even thought was possible. You watch, mesmerized by the way the woman’s stomach subtly shifts a visible bulge as he stretches her out.
Heat pools instantly between your thighs, making your breath hitch and a dizzying sensation of fullness hit your gut. He's always so careful with you, so agonizingly gentle, as if you’re something precious he might break if he breathes too hard. But looking at this... a dark part of your brain wonders what it would feel like if he didn't hold back.
"Holy shit..." you whisper to the empty room.
Your hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding down to find slick heat. The video is playing on a loop. Bulge. Stretch. Deep. Repeat. You watch it while your imagination runs wild, replacing the stranger on the screen with the man who owns your heart. You’re picturing his heavy weight pinning you down, his eyes blown wide, filling you until you can’t even scream.
You’re chasing a peak that feels miles away until, suddenly, it isn't. You hit your first orgasm with a stifled gasp, back arching off the mattress, only to find yourself immediately chasing the second one, body trembling and spent in the wake of the first.
By the time the second wave of pleasure ebbs away, you’re a puddle of limbs and heavy eyelids. You’re half conscious, drifting in that beautiful limbo between wakefulness and dreams. In a daze of post orgasmic euphoria, you squint at the screen, your thumb hovering over the comment section.
"How do I send him this without actually sending it to him 😳"
You tap 'send' with a clumsy thumb. You meant to just post it as a thought, a digital scream into the void. But as your eyes flutter shut, your hand twitches a final, involuntary spasm of exhausted muscle. Your thumb slips. It slides across the 'Share' icon, hovers over the very first contact at the top of your recent list, and taps.
Sent.
You don't hear the subtle whoosh of the outgoing message. Delivered directly to the man who at this very moment is probably staring at a security feed or sipping red wine.
Sylus.
You just fall into a deep, blissful sleep, completely unaware that you've just lit a fuse.
“Come on, sweetie, don’t give up on me now" Thrust. The impact is heavy, forcing a breathless gasp from your lungs. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He isn't being the gentle, careful man you know. Not today. His hand is hooked firmly behind your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, forcing you to watch the unmistakable, fat bulge stretching the skin of your lower abdomen, proof to just how deep he’s buried himself inside you.
“You wanted this, now you have to take it and you are going to watch.”
And there it is. The reality of it. It’s visceral. It’s exactly what you saw in that video, but it’s a thousand times more intense because it’s him. It’s real.
Your vision swima and just as the shock of it all starts to settle, he shifts. He changes the angle of his hips in a calculated move that hits your G spot dead on. An uninhibited scream tears from your throat, echoing through the room.
“I've been trying to behave,” he says, and the words come out rougher than he probably intended, an edge of frustration bleeding through his usual composure “But you make it so difficult... fuck... by sending me your filthy little thoughts.”
His hand settles against your belly, firm and heavy, and the second he presses down, your body reacts with a sharp inhale. You tense instinctively, muscles coiling around him, but you don't pull away. You can't.
“Can you feel me here?” he asks, breath coming in uneven bursts. He’s buried balls deep and for a split second, you see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. You make a face, a strange, overwhelmed expression of fullness, and he looks like he might actually pull back to give you a moment to breathe. He thinks he’s pushing too hard.
He’s wrong.
Don't you dare.
Driven by a desperation you didn't know you possessed, you move your hips in a searching rhythm, pressing his hand down harder against your stomach. You want the pressure. You want to feel the exact point where he meets your skin from the inside.
He lets out a loud groan at the sensation. Your narrow walls clamp down on him, tighter than they've ever been. Every millimeter of space between you feels like it’s disappearing, leaving nothing but friction and heat.
You don't have the words to tell him that you never want him to stop, so your body does the talking. You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he holds you there, keeping you exactly where you are until your breathing turns unsteady.
Until your body softens in momentary surrender and tightens again a second later, as if you're fighting a war with yourself, trying to decide whether to let go or to hold on tighter.
In the end, you don't choose. You do both.
The world dissolves into a hot haze of pleasure. It couldn't be called an orgasm because this feels like a total system failure. You’re sobbing his name or maybe you’re just gasping for air, you can’t tell anymore as waves of pleasure crash over you, violent and unrelenting. Your pussy seizes around him in long pulses, milking him, begging for the very thing that’s pushing you past your limit.
He follows you a few seconds later, burying himself soooo deep you feel the hot rush of him filling you.
Slowly, the fog begins to lift, leaving you in a state of blissful, heavy lethargy. The hand that was just pressing so ruthlessly into your belly softens, fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.
"You really are a menace." he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.
The shame you expected to feel, the embarrassment of that accidental video is nowhere to be found. Instead, there is only a sense of immense satisfaction.
"Next time," he whispers into your hair "don't bother sending a link. Just tell me. I'll give you everything you desire. Every single time."
The problem with being in love with a man like Xavier is that your brain is constantly a minefield of "what ifs."
He’s incredible, truly, but you’ve noticed the way he pulls back sometimes. When he’s brooding or when that possessive jealousy starts to prickle at him, he becomes almost too careful. Like he’s afraid he might actually break you if he lets go of that restraint.
So, naturally, you’ve been doing a little "research" to keep the inspiration alive.
Now, you’re sitting on the edge of your bathtub, scrolling through your feed, a habit that’s becoming a bit of a vice, when a video catches your eye. A girl pinned to a mattress, her head pressed down by her partner as he fucks her from behind. Hard. The sound of her moans echoes in your ears through your headphones and suddenly the bathroom feels about ten degrees too hot.
God, yes.
You quickly save the link to your "later" folder, a digital stash of things you want him to eventually try, and then scribble a quick, thirsty comment on the video "This but with my boyfriend dressed as Lumiere 🤤 " and set your phone down.
Buzz. Buzz.
A notification lights up the screen. It’s him.
[Xavier]: Found a new hot pot place. Apparently, the broth is spicy enough to kill a Wanderer. Want to go tonight? Please say yes so I can stop thinking about food and start thinking about you.
A soft laugh escapes you. He’s so predictable, yet so devastatingly charming when he wants to be. Your answer is an immediate "sure" because you’d say yes to a lukewarm bowl of water if he was the one serving it.
But he always forgets to look at the menu and ends up ordering something way too spicy or something you're not in the mood for, so you look for the restaurant's menu.
You see the link. Tap it. Copy. Paste. Add "Look at the options! The spicy broth looks insane." Send.
Funny thing is, you don't actually copy the menu's URL, you just cut it. You don't even realize you just sent him the very un culinary link to the video you were just watching to fuel your own delusions.
Little typing bubbles appear. They dance for a long time. They disappear. They reappear.
He's so indecisive.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
"Lumiere?" the name sounds like a curse "You wanted Lumiere to pin you down?"
Your face is pressed so firmly into the mattress that the fabric feels like a part of your own skin, the scent of laundry detergent mixing with the heat of the moment. Every time he thrusts into you, the world tilts, your vision blurring into white light and dark shadows. The Xavier who kisses your forehead and cuddles with you is buried somewhere deep inside the man currently fucking you breathless.
"Xavie..." you try to speak, but his name dies in your throat as he shifts his weight.
"Tell me," he demands, losing the battle with his own restraint. He hits you hard, a deep, soul shaking thrust that forces a broken moan from your lips. "Tell me you don't need a costume to feel this."
You try to answer, to tell him he's being ridiculous...
Smack!
The sting of his palm against your ass makes you gasp, your fingers clawing at the mattress for purchase.
"You sent it to me on purpose," he mutters as he leans down, his chest pressing hard against your back. "You wanted to see me like this, didn't you? You wanted to see if I could be as rough as him."
He doesn't want an answer. He doesn't wait for one. He just wants to hear you whimper his name when he hits that perfect spot.
His hand presses your face down even harder into the mattress, muffling your cries. It's everything you were craving when you were scrolling through your phone earlier, but the reality is a thousand times better.
You start to move, trying to meet him halfway, trying to grind back against him to find the friction that will push you over the edge.
"Faster..." you beg, trying to turn your head to tell him that there is no Lumiere, there is only him, but he just presses you back down, his thumb grazing your hip bone with trembling pressure.
"Shhhhhh, just a little bit more," he lets out a long groan, his forehead dropping to rest against the back of your neck for a fleeting second before he surges upward again. "You should see the way your pussy is taking my cock right now, so greedy. Just for me."
His hand shifts. It leaves the back of your head to find the column of your throat. His thumb and middle finger curl around your neck not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he is in total control.
He stills for a heartbeat, his middle finger softly tapping the pulsing vein in your neck. "Every beat belongs to me tonight"
You just nod, a jerky movement, because you are standing on the very edge of a precipice, and the fall is coming. The tension in your lower belly is wound so tight it’s almost painful.
"Say it," he breathes, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his words a warm, humid ghost of a sensation, his control fraying at the edges.
"Yours," you finally whisper, like secret you’ve been holding in your lungs for far too long, finally allowed to breathe.
The moment the word leaves your lips, he loses the last of his mercy.
He pulls back almost entirely, leaving you aching and empty for a fraction of a second only to drive back in, bottomless and bruising. It’s a cycle of withdrawal and overwhelming fullness that leaves you reeling.
"Give me what's mine" the command vibrates through your entire body.
The world dissolves into white light as your head falls forward, muscles spasming in the violent quake of your climax, but he catches your hair, tugging just enough to force your head up, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark and swirling with a hunger that could swallow the stars.
"Good girl," he whispers against your parted, trembling lips.
He thrusts one last time, deep and final, spilling molten heat as your name breaks from his lips, torn in half by bliss before he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. For now, the jealousy is gone. There is only the quiet, heavy reality of being his.
The video catches your eye instantly. The lighting is a soft purple, casting a surreal glow over the two people on screen. A girl is on top, her movements slow and agonizingly deliberate as she drags her pussy over her partners cock, the rhythm of it making your cunt clench.
Tonight you are in a "no filter" mood. You need to share this. You need to tell Tara.
With a smirk, you tap the share icon, copy the link, and switch over to your messages. You find Tara’s profile pic or so you think and start typing with the kind of unhinged energy only a best friend can appreciate.
You and Tara have long since abandoned the concept of "boundaries" when it comes to your filthy late night chats.
“Omg Tara, look at this. Raf’s cock is so pretty, I swear if he’d just let me do this to him, I’d never leave the bedroom again 🥵💦”
You hit send with a satisfied whoosh and let out a long, dramatic sigh. Silence follows. For a few minutes you go back to scrolling, blissfully unaware that you have just dropped a digital bomb into the inbox of a man who is already struggling to maintain his composure.
Your phone vibrates.
It’s not a "LOL" or a "Damn" from Tara.
It’s a notification from Rafayel.
Rafayel: Is that so?
Your heart skips a beat. You frown, squinting at the name at the top of the chat.
Wait.
Your face goes from pale to a shade of red that would put a sunset to shame. You stare at the screen, wanting to physically crawl inside the phone and disappear forever. You want to delete it. You want to throw the phone out the window. You want to move to a different planet.
But then, the little typing bubbles appear again.
Rafayel: Don't just sit there blushing, cutie. I'm coming to your place and you are going to show me exactly what you want"
🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧
You’ve lost track of time. Your thighs are starting to ache, every muscle in your legs feels tight, strained from holding yourself upright, yet you keep moving. You have to. The friction is the only thing keeping you grounded.
You’re straddling him, your knees digging into the soft linens, focused on the way your cunt drags over his cock. Slippery. Hot. Wet.
Every time you slide down, the underside of him, that thick ridge presses ruthlessly against your clit. You can feel the vein running along his length pulse in perfect synch with your clit.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
"Slow down..." he groans, gripping your hips "You're going to... fuuuuck... you're going to kill me"
The friction is creating a heat of its own, a sliding friction that makes your head spin. You watch slightly delirious, as the light from the moon filters through the window, catching the sheen of sweat on his pale skin and the way his hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks wrecked. He looks beautiful. He looks like he belongs entirely to you.
But his hands are far from weak. They are heavy weights anchored to your hips, and he uses them to sabotage you. Just when you think you’ve found a rhythm that might actually save you, he tightens his grip, forcing your hips to slow, dragging the slide of your pussy out into a long, shallow glide.
It’s cruel. A sadistic kind of torture, making the night feel endless, as if the clock has stopped just to watch you suffer.
He wants to stretch this out. He wants to milk every drop of anticipation from your veins until your entire body begins to tremble, not from pleasure, but from the weight of the climax that refuses to arrive. He wants to push you to that edge where even your silence sounds filthy, where the quiet between your breaths is thick with the unspoken things you want to do to him.
Once he’s satisfied with the slow pace, his hands begin to wander. They trace the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the swell of your breasts, learning your body the way a sinner learns to pray. Like hunger learning the art of restraint just long enough to make the eventual feast mean something.
You slide back just a fraction, settling the heat of your pussy directly over his balls and then you reach down.
Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, just like you saw in that video. You begin to stroke him while simultaneously rotating your hips in a circular grind over the heavy fullness of his balls.
The sound that tears from his throat is something unhuman, a vibration that feels like it's coming from the depths of the ocean.
Your name is caught between his teeth in a soft, sinful exhale. He sounds undone, completely unraveled by the sight of you taking exactly what you claimed you wanted in that accidental text.
He’s right there, on the edge of an unravelling collapse.
And because you are just like him, a creature of beautiful, chaotic impulse, you don't let him have it. Not yet.
You release his cock, hand slipping away just as the tension reaches its peak, and drag your soaked cunt back up the entire length of him in one loooong slide.
It feels like a collision of two fires.
In your desperation to feel everything you let your entire weight drop. The clench of your pussy as you cum wraps around the underside of his cock, squeezing him with a force that leaves him absolutely helpless.
He has no choice but to follow you into the fire.
Spurts of his cum paint the pale skin of his stomach, the liquid warmth spreading in thick, white streaks, pooling in his belly button.
For a few seconds, neither of you moves. There is only the sound of your breathing and the humid scent of your shared exhaustion.
“Was that pretty enough for you, cutie?” he teases, though his hand trembles slightly as he reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His thumb lingers on your cheek, like he’s constantly checking to make sure you haven't vanished into the night. "Or do we need to do it again?"
It’s late, way past the time Zayne would usually be nudging you to sleep but he’s still tucked away in his office, probably buried under a mountain of medical charts or surgical reports.
Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, watching a VIDEO of a girl grinding against a man’s thigh, bodies pressed together, his hands steady even as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. The guy in the video is wearing pajamas that look disturbingly similar to the ones Zayne is wearing right now.
Suddenly, the empty space in your bed feels a little too vast, your mind drifting to the office down the hall, aching to be that girl, to climb onto his Zayne's lap while he’s buried in medical charts and just... fuck yourself stupid.
You want to reach down and touch yourself but you’re a loud sleeper and an even louder moaner. If you start now, there’s no way he won't hear you through the walls, and you aren't quite ready for that kind of intimacy yet. So, you settle for a bit of digital venting. With a flushed face, you type out a quick comment on the video: "God, I wish I could do this while he's working..."
You go to save the link to your "Filthy Things" folder for a proper session tomorrow morning, but just as your thumb hovers over the screen, your phone starts vibrating. It’s Simone. She’s calling, probably to gossip about something trivial. In your rush to swipe the call and answer her, your finger taps the wrong folder.
And because Zayne is a man who is always, always connected to his devices for work... he’s going to see the notification the exact second it pops up.
🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺
It didn't take long. After that little "digital accident," the silence between you two wasn't awkward so much as it was heavy. Charged. He didn't even tease you about the comment. He didn't even blush. He just looked at you with those piercing eyes, a tiny, knowing quirk at the corner of his mouth, and silently commanded you to come to him.
And now, here you are. Perched on his lap, doing the same thing you saw on that video. Your lower half is completely bare, your thighs hugging his muscular one as you press yourself flush against him.
The friction is driving you completely insane.
Zayne, however, is a man of terrifying discipline.
His left hand is braced on your lower back, while his right hand moves across his keyboard. He’s actually working. He’s reviewing files, typing out notes, behaving as if you aren't currently trying to melt into his lap. Every so often, he’ll pause, not to stop you, but to lean in. His breath, cool and smelling faintly of mint, brushes against the shell of your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.
"Ah... Zayne..." you whimper against his neck as you press yourself harder against him. The sound is loud, far too loud for his quiet office and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.
"Hush now," he doesn't even look away from the monitor, though you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. "I need to focus. These reports won't write themselves."
He’s being difficult. He’s being a tease. And you love him for it.
You try to be "good." You force yourself to still when he has to write something long on his computer. You sit there, trembling slightly, waiting for him to acknowledge the havoc you're wreaking on his concentration.
A moment passes. The only sound is the soft click clack of the keyboard. Then, you feel his hand slide from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you just a fraction of an inch closer, a subtle command for you to keep going.
"Good girl," he whispers, the words a warm caress against your ear.
His expression is completely professional, but the way his fingers linger on your skin tells a completely different story. He’s still working, yes but he’s also letting you feel exactly how much of a distraction you really are.
Every time your thighs tense up, every time you desperately bite your lower lip to stifle a moan that threatens to shatter the silence, the air thickens with indecency.
He’s struggling. You aren't blind. You can feel the insistent twitch of his cock beneath you, reacting to every open mouthed kiss you press against the pulse of his neck, the sharp line of his collarbone, and the smooth expanse of his Adam's apple. He’s trying to maintain that surgeon’s calm, but his body is betraying him with every shuddering breath you take.
You’re right on the edge. Your clit is catching perfectly against the fabric of his pajamas, the material already damp and clinging to you from the amount of arousal you're leaking.
"Look at me."
His voice cuts through the air, forcing your gaze up. He wants to see the exact moment your eyes glaze over, the moment your breath hitches and tells the truth that your lips are trying so hard to hide.
When his hand slides up to cup your jaw, it isn't the gentle, comforting touch you're used to during a quiet movie on the couch. It's different. It's possessive. It’s a disciplined kind of dominance, a reminder that while he is the composed Zayne in the daylight, there is a much darker man caged behind that professional composure and you are the only one who knows how to let him out.
"You are close, aren't you, love?" he whispers, his lips hovering so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath.
You can barely manage a nod, your lungs feeling too small for the air you're trying to pull in. You're breathing directly into his slightly parted mouth.
"Cum for me, then," he exhales, a rare flush creeping up his cheeks, betraying just how much this is affecting him too.
He shifts his thigh, bouncing it up and down in a rhythmic motion that catches your clit perfectly.
The world tilts. You feel your eyes lose focus and you can't tell if it's the shaking of your limbs or the pounding of your heart that's making you tremble so violently.
"Zaynie... Zayne..."
His name becomes your entire vocabulary, there are no words left, only the sound of his name on your lips and the crashing sensation of finally, finally letting go.
You are flicking through a never ending stream of mindless clips and memes. It’s supposed to be a quiet afternoon, just a bit of scrolling to kill the time until Caleb comes back, but then there...
A VIDEO pops up. It’s not your usual aesthetic travel vlog or a cooking hack.
You freeze, your heart doing a weird, little skip in your chest. You know you should probably swipe past it, but your eyes are glued to the screen. It’s a girl, her lace panties completely drenched. The guy in the video isn't even taking them off, he’s just sliding the tip of his cock against her through the wet lace.
A sudden warmth blooms deep in your belly, spreading down until it feels like you’re melting into the cushions. God, you’ve been craving that. The teasing, the slow, agonizing buildup. You’ve spent so much money on delicate, expensive little sets, thinking maybe Caleb would appreciate the way they look on you, but hes a fucking dog. He doesn't do "slow." He usually just rips them or tugs them off with impatience, going straight for the heat of you. You just want him to play with you like that. To linger.
Your inhibitions are a little frayed from the visual, and before your brain can catch up to your impulse, your thumbs are flying. You tap the comment section, the screen a mess of unhinged messages from strangers, and you add your own little confession: “I really need him to play with me like this, but he prefers to eat it raw from the start😢”
You hit send, a tiny, embarrassed flush creeping up your neck, and immediately swipe the video away, feeling a bit silly for being so vulnerable to a bunch of internet strangers.
You toss the phone onto the cushion next to you a second later, completely oblivious to one mortifying detail. He’d logged into his account on your phone earlier when his own battery died, and you hadn't bothered to switch back.
In his office, the most dangerous man in Skyhaven is about to watch, in explicit detail, how you want to be ruined.
🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷
It turns out your assessment of him was spot on. The man is a fucking dog.
He hasn't taken your underwear off. That’s the part that’s driving you absolutely insane. The delicate lace is currently soaked, clinging to your pussy like a second, translucent layer of skin. He’s been working his tongue against the fabric, licks so long and heavy they feel like they’re reaching deep inside you. You’ve already been hit by two earth shattering, toe curling orgasms, your vision blurring every time his mouth finds your clit through the damp cloth. He hasn't even slowed down. If anything, it's getting worse.
“This is the reason I usually take off those pretty panties you wear” he presses his face into you, his broad tongue sweeping up in one stroke against your entire slit. You let out a choked, broken sound, fingers tangling desperately in his dark hair, trying to push him away just to catch your breath.
“Your scent is so fucking addictive,” he groans against your skin, “Especially after wearing them all day... knowing you've been walking around, smelling like this, just waiting for me.”
Then, he says something that makes your heart skip a beat not out of fear, but out of pure shock.
“You have no idea, do you?” he pants, nose brushing against your clit. “Last two years of High School... I spent them stroking my cock raw just to the smell of your panties. Thinking about you. Wishing you were right there."
Your vision blurs. Your hips jerk upward involuntarily as a third wave of pleasure crashes over you. You cum hard, your entire body shaking as you spill yourself directly onto his tongue, voice breaking into a high, desperate sob of his name.
He doesn't pull away. He just drinks you in, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tastes exactly what he's been craving.
The moment your legs stop trembling he hooks his fingers into the soaked gusset and drags it to the side, baring your swollen folds and your pulsing clit, sensitive from his relentless attention.
He doesn't thrust in. He doesn't go for the full stretch you’ve been silently praying for. Instead, he slides the drooling tip of his cock over your slit. He isn't even entering you yet, he's just... slapping it against your clit, teasing the very edge of your tolerance.
You wanted the lace, the play, the slow burn... but God, you also wanted him to fuck you until you couldn't remember your name. You wanted the stretch.
But Caleb is a man who listens. Or rather, he's a man who has spent a lifetime studying every detail of your desires and right now he is giving you exactly what you asked for.
He leans down, his eyes dark, watching the way your face contorts with pleasure and frustration. He doesn't give you the release of a full thrust, he just feeds you the tip. He slides just the head of his cock into your pussy, a teasing invasion that barely makes a dent.
The reaction is instantaneous. Your walls react to him like a living thing, clenching around him, desperately trying to suck him deeper, to pull the rest of him in. The sensation is so perfectly matched that a synchronized moan breaks from both of you.
He pulls out just a fraction and then he thrusts the tip back in. Over and over again.
“Please,” you whimper, the word sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “Baby, please...”
You’re trying to force him to go deeper. But he’s in total control. His left hand is working the length of his cock, pumping with a desperate rhythm, while his right hand finds your clit.
His eyes are pinned to yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face as if he’s trying to memorize the way you fall apart.
And then, the teasing ends.
His mushroom tip, still nestled just inside your entrance, begins to pulse. Warm, thick spurts of cum hit your sensitive walls, flooding the tiny space he’s occupied.
Your pussy clenches around the tip of his cock, trying to suck every last drop out of him while his hand squeezes the rest of his length, forcing the remainder of his seed into you, filling you up until his cum starts to leak out.
He finally collapses against you, the weight of his body pressing you deep into the mattress.
"You're so loud when you're happy," he murmurs before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple, then your cheek, before finally settling his lips against yours in a kiss that tastes of salt and everything you are to him.
He pulls back just a bit, his gaze dropping to where the soaked lace of your panties still clings to your thighs, then back up to your eyes. There’s a flicker of that obsessive intensity returning to his expression.
"There isn't a single thing in this world you could ask for that wouldn't make me crawl to you. So don't hold back, Pips."
need to watch the movie properly again, but i so wanna write a fic in an au where qala did not poison jaggan.
in my mind, in my interpretation of the movie, despite what qala's mom said, i feel like jaggan and qala liked each other, and not in the siblings way. that was just the mom tryna replace qala's twin whom she actually wanted.
i so wanna explore that story, but I'm also scared coz what if there aren't people who think of them in that way lmao😭😭😭
anyway, i really do feel if jaggan was alive in the story it would've gone vv differently, because he lives and sings for himself. I feel like he would've inadvertently been the catalyst which would've convinced qala to do that as well? idk. i just feel like they're both two vv lonely people (seeing as jaggan literally has to have his voice because he had nothing and nobody else as a reason he could live on for), they were very captivated with each other's tragedies, and wanted to make it better. that's my interpretation. anyway.
idk man i have thoughts abt this movie and rly wanna work on em but i wanna finish my other ongoing work rn😮💨😮💨😮💨
soo, after I've had like half a day, i have some things that i wanna say (even if I haven't been vv active in the lads fandom here especially).
this is mainly a rant and my take in this situation, news abt various stuff that I've seen in threads and other social media, just take it with a pinch of salt because it's all happening in the chinese social media site which I don't really have access to, nor want to have access to. if y'all wanna skip this post, feel free to, because at the end, this is supposed to be a rant lol
so, of course, I'm also heavily disheartened by the cancellation of valko, i was pretty excited to have a werewolf character and quite possibly, another font of morally gray character into the mix. i am also one of the people who signed petitions and tbh, i did want to send emails and stuff but am just very, very drained to compose and send it, i still might do it, though. I'm vv sorry to the people who were going to have valko as their main, and for the others who were just plainly looking forward to his launch.
after looking through threads and all, a lot of people have different views about everything going on. one is that cn players caused it. I'd say that it's more of a minor faction of cn players that made things real bad for this to happen. there's also smn going around that the government just told the company to shut down the outrage that had been caused and so they decided this, for which I can't really say anything, because where I'm from, this kind of outrage does affect a lot of things and just the general public peace is kind of disrupted.
there was, however, news that the devs were protesting and saying that they would quit if they did not put valko back, as they have worked on it for too long and have literally put their hearts and soul into the art that they had created. if that is the case, then... well, idk if the company will agree to that sort of thing.
now another thing that's going around is that the haters, who have literally been emboldened because of the cancellation have a set of "demands" that they're gonna protest for (in the same way that they protested against valko). one of them, tbh the only one i remember, is the MC's, well I'd say removal, pretty much. to these haters, i only have one thing to say, which is, get some help. you are addicted to this game and it is becoming unhealthy for you as well as harmful for others around you. put your phone down, reflect, amd think, is it worth it to get so serious about a game that you're literally cursing people out, saying racist slurs, and literally cyber bullying people? is it worth threatening someone's life online? i certainly don't think so. altho, if your thought is yes, please... get some help, seek a therapist.
i have decided not to leave the game, though, as I'd been thinking to. mostly, I'll just be logging in to collect the dailies, and do almost nothing else. because this game has been one of the main reasons that I've been able to find some semblance of comfort in life. ik that sounds unhealthy, but it's the kind of unhealthy that doesn't harm others, atleast, and it isn't like I can't go by the day if i don't log in atleast once. i just think, in my head, atleast, it's not fair that i leave my sleepy bug, my fishie, my snowman, my crow, and my apple because of the hate and anger that all this is caused by (in addition to other things, but i feel like it started with hate and anger). love is the main part of this game, and I'd like to keep that alive, instead of letting anger guide my actions. my mind might change for good later on in the distant, maybe even near future, but yeah.
to all my fellow girlies, who either play the game or just follow the fics, or just keep up, I'm sorry. I stand with y'all. ik you're heartbroken, and ik that you want to fight, and i encourage you to, but make sure to have your rest and peace time too. after the current event ends i am going to take a slight break, just gonna try to stay away from insta atleast for the majority of my day. please do the same if you feel that anything is disrupting your mental peace, it is better take some time away from it. nothing is worth losing that over.
lastly, valko is never going to die or go away in this fandom. even if nothing works out, even if everyone moves on, everything goes back to normal without any proper news of him, just know, that as long as writers and artists persist, he is never really dead. he will live on in our hearts, and more importantly in the splendid fics and art pieces that we get from our brilliant artists and writers that are here in this fandom.
if you've read this, and reached till here, thank you. thank you for reading all this, whether it made sense or not. thank you for reading, and thank you for fighting.
this was literally me yesterday. like everyone and everything was just overstimulating me from all sides and the lnds news was like the cherry on top. I'm pretty sure I'm still overstimulated to some extent.
I'm gonna grind for sylus's card in this banner and stay tfo of this game. I'm omly gonna log in to collect the weekly dias i paid for, and will be taking a break. any amount of profanity i throw at this company is not going to be enough so like. yeah. worst case scenario, i uninstall the game and have it stay that way and never play an otome game again, because genuinely speaking, this has sort of ruined the charm for me.
i will ofc continue to interact w lads fandom here and will also be keeping track of what's going on, but like. yeah. if there's any chance of this whole situation improving in any way, i pray for it to happen, otherwise, bye-bye to the game and just... i hope this fandom of so many writers and artists will stay alive, and keep valko and all other LIs alive with their arts and fics.
ok guys, I'm hella angry now, so I'm asking, PLEASE gimme tips on how to get more ascension materials? coz like I've got too many of my cards stuck on the 60-80 levels. I've done everything 😭😭😭😭 I've gotten three stars on all the bounty hunts, i try not to use up all my ascension boxes and stuff it still don't work help pls
INFOLD Y'ALL BETTER GIVE US A BETTER PITY SYSTEM IN ADDITION TO THE WEREWOLF BRUH. I'M TIRED OF FARMING 6K-7K DIAS IN THE EXPANSE OF 15 DAYS TO GET ONE LI'S CARD PLS BRO
I knew that intellectually but it never truly clicked until I opened an old favorite last night to get lost in for the thousandth time. But if you’re a fanfiction author, someone out there is reading and rereading your stories. Someone out there is loving your world and words not just once but over and over and over again.
That’s amazing.
So here’s a shoutout to the readers and rereaders. The commenters and kudosers and lurkers and everyone and anyone who has ever picked a fic up and loved it.
And here’s a shoutout to the writers, in case you need a pick me up or a slight bit of love. Somewhere, out there on a screen under a sky you’ve never seen, your story is coming to life.
