your ex used to say that you were “too loud” during sex… but he says, “the louder, the better!”
feat. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb x fem!reader (no valko yet ‘cause i don’t wanna mischaracterize, and i’m still holding onto the hope that he WILL be back)
cw: smut; dirty talk; oral sex (fem receiving); fingering (fem receiving); cowgirl; doggy; hair pulling; belly bulge + size kink; missionary; biting; slight masochism (caleb); the “ex” in question is implied but not explicitly mentioned, so this can just be read as someone who is embarrassed to moan in front of their partner teehee
notes: birthed this concept whilst in the shower, actually. signed as someone who has never had a toxic ex but does live in a house with thin walls <3
nsfw content below the cut! minors dni
“mmf…”
the low, needy moan resounds from between your thighs. it sends mind-numbing vibrations up your spine.
xavier almost looks like he’s enjoying this more than you are.
your legs, bent at the knees, are thrown over his shoulders. his hands are at your hips, fingers dug desperately into the softness of your thighs like he needs to anchor himself to reality. to you.
the only sounds filling the room are his hot, heavy breaths and the obscene slurp of his mouth against your pussy. he eats you out like it’s the only thing he was put on this earth to do.
in his mind, that’s a pretty good life purpose to have.
he flattens his tongue against your folds before licking a slow stripe upwards. then, he flicks the tip of it right over your clit.
you throw your head back and gasp. your fingers curl around the sheets.
he seems to perk up at the subtle hitch in your breath. suddenly, he lifts his head away from your wet heat. you swallow back the whine of protest that almost crawls its way up your throat.
the lower half of xavier’s face is shiny with slick. his eyes are hooded, pupils blown so wide that his irises are nothing but slivers of blue. he licks his lips, looking absolutely debauched and just like sin incarnate.
“come on, starlight,” he says, voice hoarse and a little breathless. “i know you can do better than that.”
instantly, you flush.
“xaviii,” you whine. “it’s embarrassing…”
your boyfriend doesn’t respond.
instead, he just dives right back in.
with the way his mouth is moving, it seems as though he’s trying to force every moan out of your throat through your pussy. he shoves his tongue into your entrance and swirls it around inside. his arms lock a little more securely around your thighs.
he’s determined, you’ll give him that.
your mouth falls open, but the only noises spilling from those pretty, perfect lips are your labored breaths. your chest heaves as you struggle to suppress the wave of pleasure that threatens to swallow you whole. all you can do in your attempt to fight it is squeeze your eyes shut.
xavier is having none of that.
the lascivious sound of him making out with your cunt intensifies. it’s like he’s trying to wring out every sound that he can get. he’s relentless in his pursuit. he licks and sucks and groans, eyes rolling back in bliss at the taste of you. his nose bumps against your clit, and you jolt.
“xav… hah, x-xavi…”
“mmh.”
his reply is halfhearted at best. the way he sucks your clit into his mouth is anything but.
“xavier!”
your back arches off the mattress as his teeth graze over the sensitive bud.
the cry of his name has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. his eyes light up for a moment before darkening with arousal.
he shoots you a grin that is very unbefitting of his sweet, boyish features.
“that’s it, angel. give me more.”
zayne has always been quiet during intimacy. usually, the most you’ll get out of him is a low grunt or groan, a whisper of your name or the occasional expletive muttered under his breath. so it was only natural for you to assume that he would also be turned off by a partner who is vocal in bed.
you couldn’t have been more sorely mistaken.
“darling.” his voice is deceptively calm, even as two of his fingers scissor relentlessly in and out of your dripping hole. “please remove your hand from your mouth.”
you barely hear him through the blood rushing in your ears. and even if you could hear, you doubt you’d be able to comprehend it. your brain already feels like it’s melting into a puddle of mush in your skull. when he crooks his fingers upwards, your whine is muffled against your palm.
zayne clicks his tongue.
“don’t make me repeat myself.”
his words are laced with an icy-cold edge that wasn’t there before. you know that tone. you know it means business, and promises punishment if you don’t behave.
so you swallow your pride and ask.
“… huh?”
well, you try to, at least.
ever-gracious and oh-so-patient, he reiterates his request. this time, you catch it.
slowly — hesitantly — your hand drops down to your side.
he hums. “good girl.”
his fingers continue to pump in and out of your sopping cunt. the wet shlick, shlick, shlick that hits your ears makes you want to close your thighs around his wrist.
“zayne,” you gasp. “pl-please, zaynie, i—”
“shhh…” his hand skims up your side, calloused palm sending shivers up your spine. “relax, my love.”
“b-but… i can’t…” you choke on a sob, squirming uncontrollably beneath his touch. “i can’t help it…!”
“i know, darling,” he says. “go on. let yourself go.”
your cheeks flush. adamantly, you shake your head. when the tips of his fingers graze your g-spot again, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle your whimper.
a quiet sigh escapes from zayne’s lips. it isn’t a sound of anger or frustration or even disappointment. it almost seems pitying, really, when coupled with the sudden softness of his gaze.
the hand that was once a grounding presence at your waist finds a new home at the curve of your jaw. he gently tugs at the corner of your mouth, coaxing you to release your bruised lip from between your teeth. when you finally heed his silent command, he immediately slides his thumb past your parted lips.
“there,” he murmurs, half to himself. “keep it open. just like that.”
your brows furrow in confusion as your sex-addled brain struggles to comprehend why his grip on your jaw has become so firm.
you don’t get the chance to figure it out before he slips another long finger into your fluttering pussy, angling all three upwards until you’re seeing stars.
the moment the heel of his palm grinds down over your clit is the moment that finally breaks you.
“ah!”
the moan you let out is embarrassingly loud, thanks to the way your mouth has been pried open against your will. your entire face feels like it’s been set on fire.
zayne, of course, hardly reacts. only the faintest twitch of his lips and the glint in his eye gives him away. but you can tell he’s pleased, because the next words out of his mouth are gravelly, rough, and a little bit strained.
“good girl.”
for someone who dedicates his life to the pursuit and creation of art, you think that rafayel himself rivals even the most stunning masterpieces currently in existence. especially when he’s sprawled out on the bed beneath you.
a beautiful rosy hue is painted across his cheeks, reaching all the way to the tips of his ears. his eyes are half-lidded and hazy with bliss. his jaw is slack, lips parted around the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. just the sound of them causes heat to flare up in your gut.
and yet, you still haven’t let out a single pleasured sound of your own. not because he isn’t making you feel good; in fact, quite the opposite is true.
old habits die hard, as the saying goes.
your hips slow to a near-complete stop as you grind yourself languidly against him. you’ve been riding him relentlessly for nearly twenty straight minutes, and your thighs are beginning to ache.
rafayel lets out a whine of protest at the sudden lack of friction.
“cutie,” he whimpers, voice breaking around the syllables. “d-don’t tease. you’re killing me here.”
“i know,” you say. “fuck, ‘m sorry, raf, just— give me a sec…”
his hands tighten around your waist. you can tell his patience is starting to wear thin.
you’re thankful that your hands are already braced on his shoulders for stability. if they weren’t, you would’ve toppled forward the second he started moving.
you hadn’t even noticed the way he planted his feet on the mattress until he begins to jackhammer up into you. he immediately sets a downright brutal pace, hips colliding mercilessly with your own. his fingers dig into the plush of your ass, bouncing you up and down on his cock. he’s not so much guiding you as he is pulling you down — like a siren dragging an unlucky sailor to their demise.
you, of course, are far from unlucky. but you do feel like you’re drowning, with the way he leaves you gasping for air.
“raf— w-wait, slow down…!”
but he can’t. he’s already too far gone, lost in the heat between your legs and the way you clench so perfectly around his length.
his thrusts are sloppy, mindless and desperate. he needs you even more than a fish needs water to breathe. but the fervor with which he ruts up into you is almost punishing, as if he’s trying to say, look at what you’ve done to me. look at how you ruin me.
he’s a wreck. your wreck. and you love it almost as much as he does.
you’re pretty sure you’re going to find bruises in the shape of him tomorrow morning.
“sh-shit, shit, shit,” rafayel warbles, “you’re so beautiful… perfect… gorgeous… my muse…”
each word is punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips. your fingernails dig into his shoulders until red, crescent-shaped indents mar his milky skin.
his moans are unabashed, and oh, so loud. you feel every sound like a vibration in your very soul. you’re lucky he has no neighbors. you still half-expect to receive a noise complaint.
the bedroom is filled with just that — the echoes of his pleasure and the wet slap of skin on skin and your heavy breaths laced with faint whimpers that refuse to fully form.
that is, until he shifts his angle. the swollen head of his cock slams against your spongey front wall, and you shriek.
the sound is so abrupt, so raw, that it feels like it was torn from your chest. mortified, you clamp both hands over your mouth in shock.
rafayel’s pace falters. for a moment, he stills. and for the first time since you took him to the hilt tonight, he’s silent.
the air between you is thick, charged with electricity and something more.
your brain screams at you to do something. apologize, or push yourself off of him, or bury your face in your hands and vow never to look him in the eye again out of sheer embarrassment. anything.
then, he smirks.
he doesn’t even give you a chance to blink before your positions have flipped. the air is knocked out of your lungs as your back hits the mattress, in the exact spot he lay mere moments before. the sheets still carry the warmth of his body. you can’t even fully process the loss of his cock or the emptiness that follows, because in an instant he’s already shoving back into you with a force that makes your back arch and your throat go hoarse with the weight of your scream.
“yes,” he gasps, “that’s exactly what i need. come on, cutie, let me hear how good i make you feel.”
of all the positions sylus has put you in, you think you like this one the best.
not because he reaches the deepest like this, although that certainly is a perk. not because it’s the most comfortable, because if you’re being honest, your knees are starting to hurt.
no, it’s because in this position, you can afford to be as loud as you want.
your hands fist the sheets beside your head as you bury your face a little further into the pillow. the loud moan that rips through you as his hips collide with your ass is completely muffled.
and sure, your drool stains the pillowcase. your teeth catch on tear-stained silk every time the pleasure grows impossible to bear. and yes, you have to admit that it’s getting harder to breathe.
but it feels so good, you forget to care.
“kitten,” sylus groans out from somewhere above you. “if you keep squeezing me like that… this will be over sooner than you think.”
all you can do in response is whine and grind yourself back against him, forcing him deeper until you damn near feel him in your womb.
his grip on your waist tightens, fingers leaving indents in the pliant flesh.
“you’re determined to push every single one of my buttons tonight, aren’t you?” his voice never wavers, though it takes on a new timbre.
your back arches a little deeper. you try to mumble out a response — really, you do — but the only thing you can manage is a choked-out sob into the pillow. the sound vaguely resembles his name.
the obscene squelch of your cunt and the heady smell of sex permeate the air. combined with the considerable lack of oxygen in your lungs, the whole situation is making you feel somewhat dizzy.
another hard thrust drives his tip just below your cervix, and the cry you let out turns your throat raw. you claw desperately at silken sheets, scrabbling for purchase. part of you wishes your nails were raking down sylus’s back instead.
he leans down until you feel the hard planes of his chest against your shoulder blades. his breath is hot as it fans enticingly over the shell of your ear.
“that’s it, sweetie,” he all but growls, “take it. all of it.”
your jaw goes slack as you keen.
before you realize what’s happening, one of his hands is sliding down your body — from your waist to your front, right where your pelvis is canted up at an angle and away from the mattress beneath you. the tips of his fingers trace the curve of your stomach. they linger just below your bellybutton, applying the slightest pressure until—
there.
he feels it. the slight swell that protrudes from your tummy every time he surges forward. his palm flattens over the area. partially for support, keeping you upright, but mostly just to feel the physical evidence of his size and what it does to your body.
a strangled whimper escapes your throat.
you’re getting close. you can feel it. the tightening in your core, the way your pussy squeezes around him like it’s trying to suck him in even deeper.
sylus feels it, too.
you barely have time to process the momentary high before you’re falling over the edge, the pleasure wracking through your body like a tidal wave.
the noise that falls from your lips is strangled and undignified, voice cracking into something unrecognizable as your own.
you don’t register the sudden rush of air that hits your lungs until it’s too late.
the pillow is no longer pressed against your face. silk is no longer clenched between your teeth.
instead, a fistful of your hair is tugging at your scalp, held up by sylus’s hand. the other is still at your stomach, helping to hold you upright.
you can’t see it, but sylus has that signature devilish smirk of his painted across his infuriatingly handsome face.
“there we go. that’s what i wanted to hear,” he says, sounding much too smug for his own good. “now, i want you to do it again.”
sometimes you wonder how your loving boyfriend can be so damn mean.
caleb is unbelievably sweet in all other aspects of your relationship. seriously, he checks every box. he cooks, he cleans, brings home flowers, opens the car door, pays for all your dates, lavishes you with all the love and affection you could ever want or ask for… et cetera, et cetera, so on and so forth. all of it. the works. he’s at your beck and call.
but right now, he’s fucking you like he hates you. he’s got your legs hooked over his hips, knees locked around his waist and ankles crossed at his back. his cock pistons in and out of your dripping hole like he’s trying to drill his way up into your stomach.
not that it’s a bad thing, of course. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.
but he’s making it really hard to stay quiet.
your teeth sink into his shoulder. it’s the only way you can think to muffle the needy whine that almost falls from your lips.
caleb grunts in pain. or it could have been a low moan of satisfaction. you wouldn’t put it past the masochist in him. and you’d hardly be able to tell the difference, anyway, since it feels like your head is stuffed with cotton.
he slams into you again, and you bite down a little harder. if you were anywhere near coherency, you’d probably be afraid of breaking skin. not that he cares if you do.
his hands are clenched into tight fists, biceps flexing on either side of your head as he digs his nails into his palms. it’s all he can do to ground himself — and to keep from cumming too fast, but that’s a secret that will stay with him.
his chest is flush against yours. he can practically feel every breath you take, the thrumming of your heart against his own… and, of course, the soft curve of your breasts, the tantalizing way they slide and bounce with every move.
admittedly, the latter is taking up a large portion of his attention.
your entire body jolts with every roll of his hips. you’re pretty sure you’re drooling against his shoulder.
it’s not enough for caleb. he's greedy. he wants more.
he wants to see your face. he wants to see your pretty little fucked-out expression, with your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolling out of your slack-jawed mouth. but that would require separation. pulling his sticky, sweat-slicked skin away from yours. drawing back from the heat of your body. and he doesn’t want that. oh, no. that's the last thing he wants.
he supposes that some sacrifices must be made.
so he squeezes his eyes shut, lest he succumb to the temptation. and then, he picks up speed.
the sudden change in pace almost breaks you. the whine catches in your throat.
he notices.
“c’mon, pips…” he’s panting like a dog. “i know you can— fuck— g-give it to me… i want to hear that pretty lil’ voice.”
your nails scratch at his arms, as if in protest of his words. you shake your head weakly. he chuckles, the sound dark and throaty and laced with danger.
“aww, don’t be embarrassed. i— ah, i like it when you get loud.”
caleb knows you like the back of his hand. every thrust is full of intention, the angle of his hips precise. it has sparks exploding across your vision and a moan on the tip of your tongue.
“you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel you clenchin’…”
your pussy lets out a lewd, slick sound in response, answering his question for you.
“that’s right, baby,” he groans. “tell me how much you love my cock.”
you’re pretty sure he isn’t even talking to you anymore.
your head falls away from the junction of his neck, the tip of your nose tracing along his jawline. you inhale deeply, and the scent of his skin fills your lungs.
“caleb,” you slur, lips brushing over the shell of his ear. “please— hck! w-wanna cum…”
you can almost hear the wicked grin in his voice as he responds.
“hmmm… i dunno, pips,” he says, pretending to mull it over. his pelvis grinds over your clit, and you sob.
“maybe if you say it louder, i’ll consider it.”
final remarks: phew, baby's first smut fic posted to the big tumblr dot com. ngl i think i did xavier kinda dirty here, his portion had the shortest wc at 507 :(
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