#Zayne love & deepspace

[vellatrelle]

Something something about Caleb and underwear

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘ SQUIRTING FOR THE FIRST TIME ?!

． paring: Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Rafayel x bratty fem!reader

．summary: how they react when you squirt for the first time!

．warnings: nsfw/smut, creampie, tit fucking, cum-play, rough s*x, cow girl, mirror s*x, spanking, hair pulling, Caleb is a switch (sub to dom), pussy slapping, fingering, nipple sucking and biting.

．note : not proof read also the art is by : rororo_mg on X. Also dunno if this is ooc for them! Also zayne’s part is very long. ^_^

＠ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ；

Caleb always had that cocky little smirk when he looked at you, all charm and mischief, like he knew exactly what you were up to before you even opened your mouth. And right now, that smirk was stretched wide as he laid beneath you, his hands gripping your thighs while you rocked against his cock, taking him deeper with every bounce.

“God, babe,” he groaned, breath hot against your skin as he pushed himself up just enough to mouth at your tits, teasing one nipple between his lips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

You rolled your hips a little harder just to hear him moan, just to feel the way his cock twitched inside you. “Yeah?” You panted, fingers threading through his sweat-damp hair, tugging just enough to make him look up at you. “I thought pilots were supposed to have more stamina than this.”

His eyes darkened at that, something shifting in the way he gripped you—less playful, more possessive. “Oh, you wanna play like that, pipsqueak?” His voice was rough, teasing, but there was an edge to it now, one that made your stomach clench with anticipation.

Before you could get another smart remark out, he bucked his hips up, thrusting into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. A gasp caught in your throat as your clit rubbed right up against his abs, the pressure sparking something electric inside you.

“Shit—” you whined, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Caleb smirked, hands sliding up your waist before one gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”

You should’ve been annoyed—maybe even fought back a little—but the way he was fucking up into you, the way his cock stretched you just right, made it impossible to do anything but whimper. His abs were slick with sweat, flexing beneath you every time he moved, and that friction against your clit was too much.

“Baby—” your voice cracked, body tensing. “Fuck, I—”

Caleb groaned at the way your walls fluttered around him, at the way you trembled in his hold. “Gonna come for me?” He muttered, dragging his thumb over your clit, slow and deliberate. “Go on, pipsqueak, make a mess.”

The coil in your stomach snapped all at once, white-hot pleasure ripping through you as you came harder than you ever had before. Your entire body shook, legs squeezing tight around his waist as the pressure inside you exploded—soaking his cock, his abs, everything beneath you.

“Holy fuck.” His voice was thick with awe and something even deeper, fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you through it, prolonging every second of your high. “Did you just—”

You couldn’t even answer, gasping for air as aftershocks shuddered through you. Caleb swore under his breath, hands roaming up your back before he flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion. His cock was still buried deep inside you, still hard, still throbbing.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours as he rolled his hips, slow and teasing, making you whimper. “Guess I’ll have to make you do it again, huh?”

Caleb let out a breathless laugh, brushing his fingers over the slick mess coating his abs. His smirk was cocky as ever, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, more ravenous.

“Damn, pipsqueak,” he murmured, voice husky as he rocked his hips forward again, making you gasp. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Your whole body was still trembling, oversensitive, but the way his cock dragged against your walls, still so deep, had heat pooling in your stomach all over again.

“Shut up,” you muttered, trying to sound confident, but your voice was wrecked, breathy.

He just grinned, leaning in so close his lips brushed against your ear. “Oh? Thought you liked mouthing off.” His hips rolled forward, slow and deliberate, and you whined at the way your clit dragged against his abs again. “What happened, babe? Already fucked dumb?”

You clenched around him, hands gripping his biceps, trying to push him away just to get a second to breathe. But Caleb wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh,” he murmured, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. His strength was effortless, like he wasn’t even trying. “I haven’t even started with you yet.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, that teasing lilt still in his voice, but there was something serious underneath—something that made your pulse stutter.

“Y’know,” he mused, dragging his lips down the column of your throat, pressing just hard enough to make you squirm, “I think I like you better like this. All messy and fucked out.”

You glared at him, trying to get some control back. “I can still—”

He didn’t let you finish. One sharp thrust sent you keening, your back arching as his cock hit that spot deep inside you, sending sparks dancing up your spine.

“What was that, babe?” Caleb’s voice was thick with amusement, but his breathing was rough now, too, his control starting to slip. “Didn’t catch that.”

You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the way he was moving—deep and precise, grinding against your clit just enough to keep you on edge.

“Yeah,” he muttered, nipping at your jaw, “that’s what I thought.”

And then he really started fucking you.

The slow, teasing pace was gone. He set a ruthless rhythm, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with your ragged moans. His grip on your wrists tightened, keeping you pinned beneath him as he chased his own pleasure, his abs flexing against your clit with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can’t believe you were holding out on me, pipsqueak.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, and Caleb cursed, his cock twitching inside you.

“Shit—‘m close,” he gritted out, voice strained. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Hm?”

The way he said it sent you spiraling, your orgasm slamming into you so hard your vision blurred. Your whole body clenched around him, nails digging into his shoulders as you cried out, barely aware of anything but the white-hot pleasure consuming you.

Caleb swore, hips stuttering, before he buried himself deep with a rough groan, spilling inside you, heat flooding your core. His grip on your wrists loosened, and he slumped forward, breathless, his forehead pressing against yours.

For a second, neither of you moved, just panting, your bodies still tangled together. Then, Caleb let out a breathless chuckle.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips. “First time for everything, huh?”

＠ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ；

The soft hum of the med bay was comforting, a backdrop to the electrifying tension building between you and Zayne. He leaned against the counter, a playful grin spreading across his face as he watched you with those piercing eyes, the warmth of his gaze making your heart race.

“You know, I’m technically on duty,” he said, amusement lacing his voice as he crossed his arms.

You smirked, leaning back against the examination table. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your patients, Doctor?”

Zayne stepped closer, the playful edge in his demeanor sharpening. “Oh, trust me, I have my hands full with you.”

With a swift movement, he caught your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the table. The contact sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you. “Now, what seems to be the problem?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Just a little ache,” you replied, biting your lip as you glanced down at his firm body. “Right here.” You pressed your thighs together, the heat pooling in your core making it hard to concentrate.

“Let me see if I can help with that.” Zayne's hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing over your tits before he leaned in, pressing a heated kiss to your lips. The way his mouth moved against yours ignited something deep within you, and you responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair.

Zayne pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of mischief and desire. “You’re gonna need to be more specific.”

With a determined glint in your eye, you gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. “I want you to make me feel good, Doctor.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Well, I do love a challenge.”

In an instant, he had you pinned against the table, his hands exploring your body with expert precision. His mouth found its way to your tits, hot and wet as he sucked and teased, his hands trailing down your sides. Every flick of his tongue sent shivers down your spine, making your breath hitch.

“Zayne,” you gasped, arching into him as pleasure coursed through you.

He pulled back, eyes dark with lust. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Zayne knelt before you, hands gripping your thighs as he spread your legs apart, his breath hot against your core. “Let’s see just how responsive you are.”

His fingers slid between your folds, teasing your clit with gentle strokes that sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. You gasped, arching your back as he worked you closer to the edge.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So responsive, so eager.”

You whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. “Zayne, please,” you begged, unable to control the desperate need building inside you.

“Please what?” He smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips rolling against his hand. “I want to come—please!”

With a wicked grin, he obliged, quickening the pace of his fingers, his thumb rubbing firm circles on your clit. The pressure built rapidly, the heat spreading through you until it consumed every thought.

“Come for me,” he commanded, voice low and sultry. “I want to see you fall apart.”

That was all it took. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you squirted all over him, soaking his fingers and the floor beneath you. You cried out, your body trembling as Zayne worked you through it, his gaze filled with a mix of awe and hunger.

“Damn,” he breathed, wiping his fingers on his shirt, clearly enjoying the mess you’d made. “You really know how to make a doctor’s day.”

You shot him a playful glare, breathless but eager for more. “Don’t think you’re done with me yet.”

Zayne chuckled, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

In one swift motion, he pulled you upright, his hands gripping your hair as he pressed you back against the table, his gaze intense and commanding. “Now, let’s see just how far we can push your limits.”

Zayne's grip on your hair tightened as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin. “You made quite the mess, babe. I hope you’re ready for round two.”

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, your body still buzzing from the intense release. “I can take it,” you replied, trying to sound confident even as your heart raced in anticipation.

“Good,” he said, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Because I’m just getting started.”

Zayne positioned himself between your legs, his hands roaming down your thighs as he leaned in to plant teasing kisses along your stomach. You squirmed beneath him, your skin alive with sensitivity, every touch sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“Let’s make sure those lovely tits get the attention they deserve,” he murmured, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

You gasped, arching your back as waves of pleasure radiated from your chest. “Zayne, that feels so good,” you breathed, fingers digging into the table as you pushed against him, craving more.

He glanced up at you, eyes dark with desire. “I love hearing you say that,” he said, switching to your other nipple, giving it the same attention while his fingers trailed down your stomach to your slick folds.

With deft fingers, he teased your clit again, circling and pressing just right as he continued to suckle your breast. The combination of sensations had your head spinning, your body responding eagerly to his every touch.

“Z—Zayne, pleaseeee,” you whimpered, feeling the familiar tension building once more.

“Please what?” he taunted, his breath hot against your skin. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Just… don’t stop,” you managed to gasp, urgency creeping into your voice.

“Good answer,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his face as he increased the pressure, fingers moving faster as he thrust two of them deep inside you. The sudden stretch made you moan loudly, your hips grinding against his hand instinctively.

“Look at you, baby,” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “So fucking desperate for my cock.”

“Zayne, I need you,” you breathed, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. “Please.”

“Alright, but first…” He pulled back slightly, positioning himself between your thighs again. “I want you to try something new.”

Before you could process what he meant, he guided your hands to your breasts, encouraging you to squeeze and play with them while he pumped his cock in front of you. The sight of him, so hard and ready, made your mouth water.

“Tit fuck me,” he commanded, his voice low and demanding. “Show me how much you want it.”

You nodded eagerly, wrapping your hands around your tits and pressing them together, creating a perfect valley for his cock. The warmth of your body against him made Zayne groan, and you felt a thrill at the power you held over him, even as he watched you with a hungry gaze.

“Just like that, babe. Perfect,” he encouraged, guiding his cock between your tits, the sensation driving you wild.

You could hardly believe how good it felt, his cock sliding between your flesh as you pushed your chest together tighter, looking up at him through your lashes. “You like this, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his hands gripping your wrists as he pushed himself deeper between your tits. “You’re so good at this, baby.”

The heat in your core grew as you continued, each thrust of his cock making you wetter, slickness pooling between your legs. Zayne was losing himself in the pleasure, eyes rolling back as he thrust deeper, each movement sending waves of satisfaction through both of you.

“Damn, I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice strained, as he watched you with pure lust.

“Do it,” you urged, the thrill of it all pushing you closer to your own edge. “I want to feel you.”

With a deep groan, Zayne thrust forward one last time, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he spilled himself between your breasts, warm ropes of cum painting your skin.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, watching the sight of him losing control over you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Now, that’s a mess,” he chuckled, looking down at the sticky fluid covering your chest. “You’re lucky I like it messy.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of confidence at the way he watched you. “I think I might have to return the favor, Doctor.”

Zayne raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh really? And how do you plan on doing that?”

With a mischievous grin, you slid off the table, dropping to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye. “Let me show you.”

He let out a low laugh, clearly impressed by your boldness. “I’m all yours, baby.”

Zayne leaned down, his fingers sliding into your hair, yanking your head back just enough to make you gasp. His smirk was wicked, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re still feeling bold, huh? Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Before you could fire back, he flipped you over, pressing your chest flat against the examination table. His large hands gripped your ass, spreading you open as he dragged the tip of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your clit until you squirmed beneath him.

“Look at you, so fucking wet,” he murmured, his free hand coming down hard on your ass. The sharp sting made you jolt, a needy whimper escaping you. “You act like a brat, but your body tells me exactly what you want.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you bit out, pushing back against him.

Zayne chuckled darkly. “Still mouthing off?” He didn’t wait for an answer—he thrust into you in one smooth motion, stretching you open as his cock filled you completely.

Your fingers clawed at the table as a strangled moan left your lips. “Fuck—Zayne!”

“That’s right, baby. Let me hear you,” he groaned, setting a brutal pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the med bay, mixed with the filthy wet sounds of him fucking you deep.

His grip tightened on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock harder. The angle had him slamming against your g-spot with every thrust, sending pleasure surging through your body.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, one hand slipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. He rubbed firm, tight circles, making your legs shake. “I can feel you squeezing me—getting close, aren’t you?”

You were falling apart too fast, the heat coiling in your stomach, the relentless pace of his cock driving you straight to the edge. “Z-Zayne, I—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something dark and commanding. “Come for me. I want to feel you gush all over my cock.”

His fingers pressed harder against your clit, and just like that, the pleasure hit you like a tidal wave. Your body locked up, back arching as you came hard, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as you squirted all over him.

“Fuck yes,” Zayne groaned, watching you soak him. “That’s my good girl.”

Your body trembled, but he didn’t stop. He pulled out just long enough to spread your slickness all over his cock, smearing your wetness against your folds before thrusting back into you with a deep, guttural moan.

The overstimulation had you whimpering, but the pleasure was addicting, your walls fluttering around him as he chased his own release.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasped, his thrusts turning erratic. “Gonna fill you up—”

With one last deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he spilled inside you, hot cum flooding your pussy. He rocked his hips a few more times, letting you feel every drop before slowly pulling out.

A filthy wet sound followed, his cum oozing from your used hole. Zayne hummed in approval, dragging his fingers through the mess before pushing some of it back inside you, his smirk downright sinful.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” he murmured, watching as you twitched beneath him, body still sensitive. “You look so damn pretty like this, baby.”

You shuddered, still trying to catch your breath, but managed to shoot him a glare. “You’re a menace.”

Zayne only chuckled, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips. “And yet, you keep coming back.”

You sighed, leaning into him, exhaustion and satisfaction settling over you. “…Shut up.”

His grin widened. “Whatever you say, babe.”

＠ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ；

Xavier had you sprawled out beneath him, his toned body hovering over yours as his fingers ghosted over your skin, teasing, taunting, driving you insane. His sharp blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he trailed his hand between your thighs, brushing over your already swollen clit.

“Mm, look at you,” he mused, voice smooth, dripping with arrogance. “So desperate for me, and yet you were acting like a little brat just a few minutes ago.”

You huffed, shifting beneath him, trying to grind against his hand. “Maybe if you weren’t so slow, I wouldn’t have to be.”

Xavier chuckled, but the amusement in his eyes darkened, something more dangerous lurking beneath. “Oh? Is that right?”

Before you could process it, his palm cracked against your thigh, then your ass, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Ah—Xavier!” you yelped, the sound melting into a moan as he smoothed his hand over the heated skin.

“Now, that’s better,” he murmured, fingers dipping back between your folds, slipping through the wetness there. “God, you’re soaked, babe. You really do like being put in your place, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but a sharp slap to your ass had you gasping.

“I asked you a question,” he said, his voice all silk and steel.

“…Maybe,” you muttered, face burning.

He tsked, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You’re such a pain in the ass.” Another sharp slap made you whimper. “But you’re my pain in the ass.”

You shivered at that, but before you could say anything else, Xavier finally gave in, pushing two fingers into your pussy, stretching you open. The pleasure was immediate, your back arching as he curled them just right, finding that spot that made you tremble.

“Xavier—”

“I know, baby,” he purred, working his fingers faster, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your breath hitched as the pleasure built fast, the coil in your stomach tightening with every stroke. “I-I need more—”

He smirked. “More?” He withdrew his fingers, ignoring your whine of protest as he leaned back, positioning himself between your legs. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck you properly then.”

You barely had a second to react before he was pushing inside, stretching you open with his cock. The stretch was intense, your walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he murmured, rolling his hips, making you whimper. “So damn tight, baby.”

His hands gripped your hips, setting a ruthless pace, each thrust hitting deep, rubbing against that spot that had you seeing stars. The pleasure was dizzying, your tits bouncing with every movement, heat building in your stomach at an alarming pace.

Xavier watched you, a smug smirk curling his lips. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You could barely think, barely breathe, the pressure in your core reaching its peak. “X-Xavier, I—”

“I want to see you lose control,” he rasped, his thumb rubbing messy circles against your clit, pushing you over the edge. “Come for me, babe.”

And just like that, the tension snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your whole body shuddered as you came, the force of it so intense that you felt yourself squirt all over his abs.

A strangled moan left your lips, your mind hazy as you collapsed beneath him, body twitching from the aftershocks.

Xavier stilled for a moment, glancing down at the mess you’d made, before a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, running a hand over his slick-covered abs before bringing it to his lips, licking it off with a satisfied hum. “That was fucking hot.”

Your face burned, embarrassment creeping in, but before you could protest, he thrust into you again, making you gasp.

“Oh no,” he chuckled darkly. “We’re not done yet. I need to see you do that again.”

And with the way he was looking at you—hungry, insatiable—you knew you were in for a long night.

＠ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ；

Sylus sat with his back against the headboard, his toned arms resting lazily on the pillows, watching you with those piercing red eyes. His expression was unreadable—calm, controlled—but the way his fingers kneaded into your thighs told you everything. He was holding back. Letting you set the pace. But for how long?

You were straddling his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, stretching you open in a way that had your whole body trembling. Your hands were planted on his chest, nails pressing into his skin as you struggled to move, overwhelmed by the sheer fullness of him.

“Look at you,” Sylus murmured, voice smooth, laced with amusement. “Acting all shy now.” His fingers tightened on your hips. “Didn’t seem so shy when you were teasing me earlier, baby.”

Your face burned, but you still mustered up a glare. “I wasn’t teasing,” you muttered, shifting slightly, gasping when the movement made his cock press even deeper.

His lips quirked, but his patience was wearing thin. “No? Then what do you call sitting in my lap, grinding against me, acting like you weren’t desperate to be fucked?”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, refusing to answer.

Sylus hummed, his hands sliding up to your waist, his grip steady but firm. “That’s what I thought.” He guided you up, just enough for the tip of his cock to nearly slip out before dragging you back down onto him. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your nails raking over his chest as pleasure shot up your spine.

The stretch was too much, the sensation unbearable in the best way. You wanted to move, to fuck yourself on his cock properly, but your body was weak, trembling from how deep he reached inside you.

A whimper escaped your lips, and Sylus groaned at the sound, his composure slipping. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your thighs burned, struggling to keep up with the pace you wanted, and he noticed. The second you faltered, Sylus’s control snapped.

“Can’t do it yourself, huh?” he mused, though his voice was rougher now, his patience long gone. “That’s fine. I’ve got you.”

Before you could react, he gripped your ass, holding you still as he rolled his hips up into you, slow but deep, dragging a broken moan from your lips. Then he did it again. And again.

The pace was brutal, his cock hitting spots that had you gripping onto him for dear life, pleasure mounting too fast to control. Your clit throbbed, the friction driving you higher, pushing you toward a peak that felt different—more intense, more overwhelming than anything you’d ever felt.

“S-Sylus—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your throat. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Then let go,” he rasped, one hand sliding between you to rub your clit, his thrusts never slowing. “Come for me.”

The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure crashing over you with a force that left you gasping, your whole body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you. A sharp cry tore from your lips as you felt it—felt yourself squirt, the rush of liquid soaking Sylus’s cock, dripping down onto his thighs.

A deep groan rumbled from his chest, his red eyes dark with something primal as he watched you tremble in his lap, completely wrecked.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

You barely had the energy to respond, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks, but Sylus wasn’t finished. His hands flexed on your waist before he thrust up into you again, burying himself deep as his own release hit, warmth flooding your insides as he came.

Your body slumped against his, breathless, skin slick with sweat. Sylus ran a hand through your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, his other hand lazily trailing over your thigh, brushing against the mess between your legs.

“Looks like I fucked you stupid,” he murmured, smug.

Your weak glare didn’t faze Sylus in the slightest. If anything, it made him smirk, that lazy, knowing expression that only made your stomach tighten all over again. His fingers traced over your thigh, slipping dangerously close to the mess between your legs, deliberately teasing.

“You made a mess, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t expect you to squirt like that.” His thumb brushed your swollen clit, making your body jolt against him.

Your breath hitched, still sensitive from your orgasm, but Sylus didn’t care. He spread his fingers, rubbing your pink and creamy slick over your inner thighs, then over his cock, still buried inside you, his release mixing with the wetness between your legs.

“Feel that?” His voice dropped lower, more deliberate. “You’re still drippin’ all over me.”

A whimper escaped your lips as he pressed down on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. Your body twitched from the overstimulation, your thighs trembling on either side of him.

“S-Sylus—”

“Hmm?” His free hand slid up your body, fingers curling around your tits, kneading the soft flesh. “Something wrong?”

You shuddered, hips jerking involuntarily against his touch. “Too much—”

He only chuckled, rolling a nipple between his fingers while keeping steady pressure on your clit. “Too much, huh?” He tilted his head, eyes burning into yours. “That’s funny, baby, ’cause your pussy is still clenching around me like you want more.”

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, torn between sensitivity and the sharp need still buzzing under your skin. He was pushing you past your limit, and he knew it.

Sylus shifted, pressing you down against his chest, trapping you against his heat. His lips brushed over your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. “Be good for me,” he murmured, a sharp contrast to the way his fingers slid between your folds, spreading your slick. “Let me have one more.”

You whimpered, body tensing, but when he thrust up into you—slow, deep, filling you all over again—the last of your resistance crumbled.

＠ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ；

Rafayel’s eyes locked onto yours, that intense pink and blue gaze igniting a fire inside you. He stepped closer, his smirk teasing as he caught the challenge in your expression. “Feeling mean today, huh?”

“Maybe I am,” you shot back, a playful glint in your eye. “What are you going to do about it?”

Without warning, he lifted you effortlessly, settling you on the edge of the bed. You felt your heart race as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“You know I love it when you act like this,” he said, a low growl in his voice as his fingers slid between your wet folds, teasing your pussy. “But let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.”

His fingers worked expertly, stroking your clit and plunging deep into your slick heat. “You’re already soaked, baby. Can’t resist me, can you?”

You gasped, trying to maintain your defiance but quickly losing your resolve. “Shut up, Raf.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his smirk growing wider as he thrust his fingers deeper, curling them to hit that spot inside you. Your breath hitched, and your back arched as pleasure coursed through you.

“Raf, please,” you whimpered, squirming against his touch, desperate for more.

He didn’t waste any time; with one swift motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing and ready. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“I want it,” you begged, feeling the need building inside you. “Please!”

“Good girl,” he said, and in one powerful thrust, he filled you completely. You gasped at the stretch, his cock hitting all the right spots. “Look at you, so fuckin’ needy.”

He set a brutal rhythm, thrusting deep and hard, his body slamming into yours as he kept his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction. The pressure built inside you, the familiar tension coiling tighter with each thrust.

“Raf, I’m so close!” you cried, feeling your body ready to explode.

“Just a little more, baby. Let it happen,” he urged, his pace relentless, driving you closer to the edge.

With one final thrust, everything snapped. You felt the overwhelming wave of pleasure crash over you as you squirted for the first time, soaking his cock and the sheets beneath you. Your body trembled, and cries escaped your lips as pleasure washed over you in waves.

Rafayel grunted, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he watched you come undone. “That’s it! Just like that!” he growled, losing himself in the sensation.

“Raf!” you screamed, unable to contain the intense pleasure coursing through you.

“Fuck, I’m right there!” he grunted, thrusting deep as he chased his own release, filling you with his warmth as you both rode the wave together.

Breathless, he collapsed against you, the heat of your bodies mingling as you came down from the high. “You really know how to make things wild,” he panted, a satisfied grin plastered across his face.

Rafayel's grin returned as he caught his breath, that playful glint never leaving his eyes. “Damn, babe, you really squirted everywhere,” he said, looking down at the mess you both made. “Guess I really know how to get you going.”

You laughed breathlessly, the tension from earlier still buzzing in your body. “Yeah, well, maybe you should get used to it.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he shot back, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he playfully nudged you with his knee. “Ready for round two?”

With a quick movement, he turned you around, positioning you on all fours. “Time to show you how fun mirror sex can be,” he teased, guiding himself back inside you from behind.

“Just look at those tits bouncing,” he remarked, his voice light and teasing. “I could watch this all day.”

You felt the familiar mix of pleasure and irritation bubbling up, but the way he kept his tone silly made it hard to stay mad. “You’re ridiculous,” you replied, pushing back against him, wanting more of that delicious friction.

“Ridiculously good at this, right?” he quipped, thrusting harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the air. “Feel that, babe? You like it when I hit you like this?”

“God, yes!” you cried, loving the way his cock filled you up, the way he perfectly mirrored your movements, matching your pace with every thrust.

“Then let’s make a mess again,” he grinned, his tone dripping with playful confidence. With each thrust, he picked up speed, pushing you closer to that familiar edge.

“Raf, I’m close!” you gasped, your clit rubbing against the bed as he drove deeper.

“Let it go, babe,” he urged, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you both built toward that climax again. “I want to see you squirt again.”

With his words igniting something primal within you, you surrendered to the pleasure, feeling the tension build until it burst. You squirted again, moaning as pleasure washed over you, the sensation more intense this time as he continued to thrust, sending you spiraling into ecstasy.

“Fuck yes! That’s my girl!” he shouted, his own release following closely as he filled you up, both of you lost in the bliss of the moment.

As you both caught your breath, Rafayel leaned down, his playful demeanor returning, pulling you back against his chest. “You ready for round three? I think we can make an even bigger mess this time.”

You smiled, the warmth of his body against yours making you feel alive. “Bring it on, babe. I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[darypeacher]

OH MY GOSH

[ilovemitsuya]

how it started how it’s going

I just know he has been waiting to do that for a long time

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[osachiyo]

“HERE K!TTY-K!TTY—”

synopsis— not so innocent moments with your favorite cat boys <3

warnings— n/sfw content, fem!reader, HORNY cat boys, teasing, bondage, oral (m&f), thigh fucking, kinda feral xavier, collars, body worship, overstimulation, sub!rafayel, pet names & nicknames (master, kitty, cutie etc), praise, a lil degradation, very feral sylus & more! also there may be some grammar mistakes which i apologize for </3

note— my first time writing for these boys, hope I did ‘em justice! ik I’m astronomically late don’t clock me 😞

featuring— zayne, xavier, rafayel & sylus x fem!reader (separate)

✰ now playing — kitty kat by megan the stallion ✰

✦ ZAYNE— feasting on his master

“There, there, kitty,” you smiled at Zayne’s serious expression, waving the cat toy in his face before pulling it away just as he reached for it.

“Feeling playful, are we?” he huffed, his voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement as he lunged to catch the bright, feathered toy again, but your quick reflexes kept it just out of reach. “Oh? Don’t you want to play with your master, cute kitty?” The corners of your mouth curled into a wide smirk as you settled comfortably onto the plush sofa behind you, the soft fabric cradling your form. In your playful distraction, one of your shoes tumbled gracefully to the wooden floor with a soft thud. You glanced up at the towering man, your eyes sparkling with mischief and challenge. “Well? Aren’t you going to help me put it back on?” you teased playfully.

Zayne sighed at your flirtatious little display before kneeling in front of you and picking your shoe up from the carpeted floor. You observed as he gently lifted your foot, his gloved hands gliding down the soft fabric of your stockings while you placed your foot on his thigh. A gasp nearly escaped his pink lips as you ran your foot up and down his clothed thigh, causing him to shiver at your touch.

He let out a soft scoff, a small frown gracing his face as he suddenly seized your foot, halting your playful dance. “Your shoe, master,” Zayne said, his gaze locking onto yours, those long lashes framing his eyes captivatingly with every blink. A thrill ran through you as you leaned in, your cheek resting against your palm, eyes sparkling. You nodded, a playful smile curving your lips, allowing him to slip the shoe back on your foot, your heart pulsing with a mix of anticipation and lust.

You didn't stop him as his hands suddenly traveled further, and further up your smooth legs, up your plump thighs — until they were playing with the hem of your tight little dress, making goosebumps appear on your soft skin. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you wore this, didn't you, master?” Zayne breathed out, licking his lips as he slowly spread your legs apart, lowly purring at the sight of the little patch of wetness staining your cotton panties.

“Hmm, did I?” A playful grin spread across your face as your hands reached out to gently pet and scratch at his soft, velvety ears. The delightful sensation made him release a soft moan from his slightly parted lips, his fingers instinctively tightening their grip on your thighs, anchoring himself closer to you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” Zayne murmured with a low, teasing tone, his breath warm against your skin. He lowered his face, allowing his cheek to rest on your lap, feeling the warmth radiate from your body. The intoxicating scent of your arousal filled his senses, and he could almost taste it—rich and sweet, making his mouth water with longing.

“Well?”

Your voice, soft yet teasing, drew his gaze upward to meet your captivating face, where a playful glint danced in your eyes. A mischievous smirk graced your lips as you leaned in slightly, the warmth of your presence electrifying the air between you. “Aren’t you going to dig in, kitty?” you purred, each word laced with an inviting promise.

And dig in he did — panties hurriedly being pushed to the side as he buried his face between your plush thighs, tongue circling your clit while two long fingers poked and prodded at your tight hole — eliciting little moans of pleasure from your plump lips. The pretty noises encouraged Zayne to wrap his lips around your little bundle of now nerves and sucking hard — causing one of your hands to tangle itself in his hair and tugging like your life depended on it.

That caused Zayne to groan loudly into your cunt, earning a sharp gasp from you as the sound reverberated through your body — biting down on your bottom lip to keep yourself somewhat grounded as he stuck his tongue in your cute hole; gooey walls clamping down on the muscle as he savored the tang of your sweet slick.

“F-fuuh— tastes s’good, master,” he moaned into your pussy, slurping on your juices as they poured down his chin like honey, successfully coating the lower half of his handsome face in your sticky arousal.

With your legs resting comfortably on his shoulders, you could feel the warmth of his skin against the backs of your thighs. Your shoes lay discarded on the floor, forgotten as your feet swung gently in the air, toes barely brushing against his back. The way he held you created a lovely curve in your spine, pulling you into a graceful arch as Zayne brought you closer to the edge of the sofa — his tongue sloppily fucking into your cunt.

“O-oh god, Zayne—!” you mewled, clenching your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm approaching fast, your legs closing around him — effectively trapping his head between your thighs as you grinded on his face. “Cum. Oh s-shit — cum on my face, master.” You threw your head back as your pussy gushed on Zayne’s eager tongue, while he licked up every single drop of your sweet slick — couldn't let any go to waste.

“Good girl. Now bend over for me, won't you?”

✦ XAVIER— sleepy catboy turns feral?!

You stepped into the shared bedroom, a weary sigh escaping your lips as you brushed off the stray cat fur clinging to your clothes. Another long day at the cat cafe had left you both exhilarated and drained. Your heart swelled with affection for the playful furballs that filled your day with joy, but you couldn’t ignore the toll that wrangling a dozen spirited kitties took on your energy. As you kicked off your shoes, you felt the familiar blend of exhaustion and satisfaction wash over you.

"You're back." A wave of warmth flooded through you at the sound of your boyfriend Xavier's soothing voice, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as he enveloped you in his taller, comforting frame. His lips met your forehead in a tender kiss, and he nestled his nose into your hair, inhaling the delicate, fruity aroma of your shampoo. "Missed me too much?" you teased, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wrapped your arms around the elegant curve of his neck. In response, he tightened his embrace around your waist, eliciting a contented sigh from you, as your exhaustion melted away in the safety of his hold.

"Mm, you couldn't imagine how much," Xavier purred, pulling away from you before pouting — god, you just wanted to press kisses all over his face. He's too pretty for his own good, you thought as you reached out to pat his head and scratch at his little ears until he caught your hand before you could. "You smell like other cats. I don't like it," he scrunched his nose up in disgust, clearly jealous that you had another cat's scent on you.

You laughed softly, amused at how childish he was being. "I was at a cat cafe the whole day, love. I'd be surprised if I didn't smell like cats," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. You made another attempt to wriggle your hand free from Xavier's firm grasp, but he remained steadfast, his grip unyielding. Just as you were about to plead with him to let go so you could take a refreshing shower, he suddenly broke the silence with a surprising comment.

"I see... I suppose it's only right for me to mark you as my own now," he declared, a determined glint in his eyes as he fixed his gaze on you, his seriousness palpable. The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise. You could only blink in stunned silence, your mind racing to process his intent. Confusion etched itself across your features, and you furrowed your brows in disbelief. "M-mark me...?" you stammered, the words barely escaping your lips as you struggled to comprehend what he meant.

Xavier's lips curled up into a devilish smile, mischief swimming in his soft azure eyes. "Mhm, shouldn't a cat properly mark their property?" He questioned as he pulled you closer — your hands settling on his hard chest, his voice husky and dripping with lust, causing your thighs to clench.

You gasped when Xavier's soft lips found themselves latching onto your earlobe, biting and sucking on the sensitive spot before whispering lowly, "don't you agree, master?"

That's how you ended up in the meanest arch— your knees sinking into the silken sheets as your face was pushed into the fluffy pillows, rendering you a drooling mess beneath the man fucking into your sopping cunt like his life depended on it. "Nngh— Xavier!" You wailed out, fingers entangling themselves in the sheets. Your pretty moans and cries of pleasure did nothing but add fuel to the burning fire of his desires— his eyes almost rolling behind closed lids as he slammed his hips against your ass harder— faster, much too drunk on the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

"S-shiit— so fucking pretty, angel—" Xavier's breath came in quick, warm bursts as he panted into your ear, his hard chest flush against your back. Each labored inhale fanned over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a rush of heat across your cheeks. "You're s-so nng—! pretty.." he slurred, one of his hands reaching to grab your hair before pulling your head back and forcing your tear-stained eyes to meet his own drunken ones. Your mushy walls tightened upon looking at his hungry gaze, earning a choked moan from him— god, you could practically see hearts floating in his eyes.

Xavier smashed his lips against yours, teeth clashing against each other’s and his tongue ravishing yours. His hips bucked into your ass at a wild pace and the tip of his cock nudged into your g-spot repeatedly, causing little yelps and moans of his name to fall from your candied lips.

"s'messy, baby fuuck—!" You whined, biting your lower lip as you looked down to see what a mess you both were making, your juices and Xavier's previous loads dripping down from your overstuffed hole to the sheets underneath like a waterfall.

"Haah— clenching s'tight 'round me," Xavier whined pathetically before sinking his teeth into the juncture of your shoulder, earning a high pitched squeal from you. You threw your head back as you felt his hand coiling around your tummy to reach down and rub fast circles on your clit— sloppy walls clenching and unclenching around his length, his mouth all but drunkenly slacking open at every clamp of your syrupy pussy.

"'G-god, you're so unngh— fucking b-beautiful," he groaned out, his free reaching upwards to wrap his fingers around your pretty little throat— turning your head towards him to meet his gaze once again.

You feel your swollen folds get even more soaked, if that's even possible, at the utter pussydrunk look on Xavier's usually aloof features. His eyes were almost crazed— feral even, pupils blown out with the desire to breed you and fill you up with his kits overtaking his entire being.

To say you were in big trouble would be an understatement at that point..

✦ RAFAYEL— “stringy” situation?…

The sun flooded through the window, spilling its golden rays throughout the living room. You were lounging on the couch, half-distracted by a book, when you heard the familiar sound of Rafayel's soft purring from the other side of the room. You glanced up just in time to see him—your recently turned cat-boyfriend—pawing at a stray ball of yarn you’d left on the floor earlier.

"Rafayel... no!" you gasped, knowing full well how mischievous he could be when he set his mind on something.

But it was too late. His curiosity got the better of him. Rafayel, with his nimble fingers and feline instincts, quickly batted at the ball, unraveling it further. He gave you a sly glance, as though saying "try me if you dare."

"You better not," you warned further, but it was already too late.

Rafayel was able to deftly maneuver his hand towards the center of the ball of yarn, thanks to a sudden flicking motion of his wrist. He made a strange sound and stopped working when he felt the string rotating around his wrist and then his arm. His cat brain was clearly working hard but didn't seem to realize how much havoc a ball of yarn could cause.

Before you could react, Rafayel tried to pull the ball closer, only to find himself awkwardly yanked forward by the strands now snaking around his legs. With a plop, he tumbled to the floor in an ungraceful heap, his body tangled in a mess of yarn.

You burst out laughing, watching as Rafayel wiggled and squirmed, his tail flicking with irritation. "I didn’t think it would be this bad," he muttered, trying to untangle himself with his free hand, but only managing to knot the string further.

“Need some help?” you asked, trying to stifle your giggles.

“I’m fine,” he replied, a bit too proudly, although he was clearly stuck in a ridiculous position. He tried to stand, but the yarn just seemed to hold him in place, like an invisible web. His attempt only resulted in a slow, comical spin as the yarn tightened around him.

After a few more futile attempts to free himself, Rafayel finally gave up with an exaggerated sigh, slumping onto his back. “Okay, maybe a little help.”

You moved over to him, carefully "undoing" the tangled mess of yarn as he laid back with a contented purr, his eyes half-closed in relaxed defeat. “I really thought I had it under control,” he mumbled, his voice warm with embarrassment but still endearing.

"Wait- wait why are you—!" Rafayel gasped in confusion as you pulled the yarn tighter around him, effectively trapping him in place. "Well, mister kitty cat, I did tell you not to touch the yarn, didn't I?" You questioned, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“So? What’re you planning to do, cutie? Punish me?” Rafayel smirked, raising a brow at you. You only smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Yes. You’re gonna be punished.”

“Bring it on then,” he huffed, cockiness dripping from his tone as he eyed you down, a tent already managing to form in his pants at your intense gaze.

Oh poor thing, he had absolutely no idea what was coming for him.

“O-oh cutie—“ Rafayel’s lewd moans echoed throughout the living room, his abdomen clenching and unclenching with pleasure as you bobbed your head on his pretty cock; the sensitive tip hitting the back of your throat each time. You only hummed, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes, his pre-cum and your saliva running down your chin as your nails gripped onto his thighs.

Rafayel groaned out your name repeatedly, as if it were his prayer — when you were the one worshiping him. Could anyone blame you, though? When he looked so delectable with his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, nose scrunched up in pleasure and eyes shut tight, lashes resting on his cheeks and mouth agape as loud moans left him.

Not to mention the small beads of sweat dripping down his abs— his back arching and hips bucking into your mouth while you suck on his pink tip just the way he likes it, the gags and choked sounds leaving your lips only making him harder— if that were even possible.

You hummed sweetly around his cock, staring up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly— letting his precum drip down your chin in stringy webs. Rafayel could only whine at the sight, a pout settling on his pink lips as you teased him.

“So close b-baby, don’t— ngh shitshitshit- stop—” he threw his head back with a loud groan as you took him in as deep as you could, shooting his cum down your throat as your nose bushed against that little patch of hair on his pelvis.

You pulled back with a ‘pop!’ before opening your mouth, letting his semen drip down your chin, making a mess on the wooden floorboards below. Rafayel panted, eyes darkening at the lewd scene before him.

“I must say, cutie— that was a reaaal nice show you put on for me,” He drawled, “but—”

Your eyes widened when you heard the loud ‘riiiip’ echoing off the walls — Rafayel’s now free hands reaching down to shove you against the floor,

“Raf—”

He was quick to cut you off, “ah ah ah, darling— you’ve had your little fun, and now I will have mine.”

✦ SYLUS— the collared beast.

You really don’t remember how you ended up in this position— folded up like a lawn chair under sylus’s strong figure, knees touching your ears and thighs flush against your bruised tits. You can hear ringing in your ears, not being able to pick up sylus’s feral groans and growls of your name until a soft slap to your cheek broke you out of your sweet trance. “W-what’s wrong, sweetie? Thought you could handle me?” He purred, fingers tightening around your throat so even if you wanted to answer, you couldn’t. Not that you would be able to anyway, not when Sylus’s fat cock drilled into you so hard, fast and rough— pressing into the rough little patch of your g-spot so deliciously.

You could only babble and cry out broken little moans and sobs— almost making the feline above you feel bad— almost. But it also scratched a deep, dark part of him— something he had been repressing for your sake, but god did it feel amazing— having you split open and dumb on his cock.

The collar around his neck only added more fuel to his burning fire, the pretty leash tangled in your fingers as he demanded you to pull— pull as hard as you could because fuck, nothing could feel better than this, in his mind. Nothing could feel better than him finally letting the beast out— devouring you whole as if you were his prey, not his master. The thought made him rut into your soaked heat even faster— sharp teeth burying themselves in your shoulder as his balls slapped against your ass, the loud “plap plap plap!” noise echoed throughout the room— if anybody was outside they could surely hear you two easily, but that was the least of your worries.

How could you worry about being heard when sharp red eyes glared into your own teary ones— gooey pussy squeezing tight around his shaft as he finally gave you the permission to let go - to cum for him, hard.

“Ohh yes, there she is..” Sylus groaned, a smile gracing his sharp features. “Did you enjoy yourself, sweetheart?” You only hummed in response, seemingly too tired to give him a proper response.

You almost let your eyes fully shut until you heard the soft click of the collar being opened.. but your eyes widened in confusion and dread once he wrapped it around your neck.

“What’s with that look, master? It’s only fair that I have my turn as well, don’t you think?”

@𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 — ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ/ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ.

++ enjoyed this? check out my LADS M.LIST !

[scorpyuu]

✨ Nightly rendezvous ✨

Before 🍎 comes home.

Which one is your favourite?

[luli-lads]

How they sleep:

Zayne: On his side, one arm draped over you. Doesn't move much, but his head might end up resting against your chest by 'pure chance'. If he has nightmares, he holds you a little tighter.

Xavier: Doesn't make noise or move at all. Seems dead except for his moving chest. This isn't a problem unless he falls asleep on top of you, crushing you. Immovable object.

Rafayel: Moves around quite a bit, and if he wakes up, he always complains about how 1. You're hogging the blanket and 2. You're not cuddling him. (He literally pushed away the blanket and you himself)

Sylus: While Xavier might crush you by accident, this man does it on purpose. Fully covering your body with his, face neatly tucked against your neck. He snores constantly but softly.

Caleb: Spooning, iron grip version. You're not going anywhere while he's out. Sometimes he talks in his sleep. Your name, mostly. He doesn't tend to snore, but when he does, it's one singular loud as hell snore.

[vellatrelle]

Who would’ve guessed our colonel is a memelord

[b-ibilly]

Are we seeing this zayne girlies?!

AND THE BUSINESS PROPOSAL SCENE ?!

[valetoria]

ུᩧ LADS TWITTER LINKS !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

XAVIER. ꒱‎

lazy humping. ⋆ grinding yourself on him. ⋆ missionary w your legs closed. ⋆ freakydeaky. ⋆ thigh fucking. ⋆ kissing & eaing you out. ⋆ to your satisfaction. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ exhibitionism.

SYLUS. ꒱‎

taking it w no complaints. ⋆ handsy when handling you. ⋆ size kink. ⋆ using your throat to his liking. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ cute girl treatment. ⋆ chained & ruined. ⋆ had to add this in.

ZAYNE. ꒱‎

riding him in the bathtub. ⋆ tease me, baby. ⋆ clit rubs. ⋆ lingerie fucking. ⋆ late night heat. ⋆ in the shower. ⋆ undressing & stripping you down. ⋆ blowjob in cute bunny ears.

RAFAYEL. ꒱‎

stay still. ⋆ kitchen counter. ⋆ backshots & the plushies witnessing. ⋆ fucking you into the mattress. ⋆ fingering selection. ⋆ stretching your holes out for fun. ⋆ a wins a win.

[hayatoseyepatch]

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓ Ｎｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ － Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ － Ｄｏｇｇｙ Ｓｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

 He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ － Ｍａｔｉｎｇ Ｐｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ － Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ － Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

[poisonf0rest]

Omg all the overstim in your sylus and raf works 😫🤤 makes me wonder if you have headcannons about how the other boys would be 🫣

can I make you lose your mind? (caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne)

♱⋅── nearly 7k of the lads boys just losing their minds (and their control) when it comes to you. art by @/osk_purinnumee on x

♱⋅── WARNINGS: mdni, overstimulation, oral, pussy drunk boys, daddy kink (caleb), bicep choking (caleb), "just the tip" (sylus), size kink (sylus), cunnilingus (xavier), Lemurian heat (rafayel), orgasm denial (rafayel), breeding kink (rafayel), slight exhibisionism (zayne)

Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully

How could Caleb deny you? 

How could he when you come to him crying big crocodile tears, sobbing how no matter what you do you can’t seem to cum, how you think you must be broken, how no one would ever want such a hard-to-please woman in their bed. 

As if he hasn’t spent years watching you, waiting for you, knowing damn well that the problem isn’t you.

So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?

He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.

Or, tried to.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you. 

Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you. 

Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.

"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"

Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs. 

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.

He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.

It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing. 

“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”

It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.

“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”

For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop. 

He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin. 

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight. 

“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?” 

A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time. 

“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.” 

Caleb just snaps.

His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.

"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust. 

"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."

It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.

"Caleb—"

"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.

Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close. 

Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream. 

“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.

Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.

“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

You’re going to have to call in sick for the week. 

Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight. 

It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again. 

“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”

Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.

"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.

He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets.  "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."

“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly.  “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”

Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need- I need—”

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping. 

Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.

Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.

"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please!”

You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"

"Yes."

The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.

"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you. 

You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed. 

And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough.  “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.” 

Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you. 

"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.

Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.

"I promise," he gasps,  "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?" 

You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock. 

“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."

"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"

"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."

The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"Oh, fuck."

"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.

"Yes, please, please, please—"

And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.

Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap. 

Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.

"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”

Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again. 

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”

Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."

He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.

"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”

And you do.

The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.

"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."

You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.

"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.

"Fuck, Raf...”

"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."

You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.

You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.

The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity. 

"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.

You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”

Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more. 

“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”

You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction. 

The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again. 

You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging. 

“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!” 

Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.

“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.” 

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”

You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”

Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock. 

“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth.  He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”

It’s humiliating how right he is.

Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him. 

“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm. 

Or rather, he would have. 

But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.

“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe. 

Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”

Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—

"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.

Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.

"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."

A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him. 

Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.

He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache. 

Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.

The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.

A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.

You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long. 

His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.

"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger. 

"Xavier—"

He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart. 

You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.

“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”

Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.

Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon. 

But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this. 

It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind. 

This, however, was not what you had in mind.

"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.

Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow. 

"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."

Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"

"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."

Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."

You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth. 

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra. 

He wants to ruin you even more. 

Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit. 

When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door. 

Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top. 

The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever. 

“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.

“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”

Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.

The door handle rattles.

Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of ice crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control. 

He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.

"Zayne, your Evol—"

"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.

Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.

 “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you. 

Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.

You can still hear muffled voices beyond the door, a stark reminder of the risk, of how dangerously close you are to being caught. But it only makes you cling to him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whisper, “Then let me take care of you, Doctor.”

[mephisto-reporting]

Wearing This Dress Was a Mistake…or Was It?

Premise: You decide to prank him by making him think that you'd be wearing that risque, revealing outfit when you are about to head out... only to find out that pranks have consequences. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is suggestive. Please do not interact if you are a minor. If you wanted to be added to my taglist, please DM, ask or comment :D Content warning: Suggestive. MNDI.

CALEB

Caleb was lounging on your couch like he owned the place, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other holding a can of soda that he swirled absentmindedly. He had taken a few days off, escaping from his duties as Colonel to come back to Linkon. And now, here he was, making himself right at home in your apartment like he had never left. The sight was almost domestic, but you knew better—there was nothing ordinary about Caleb. Not anymore.

He was on leave, a rare moment where he could shed the weight of his uniform and just be Caleb. It was a refreshing change to see him like this—less guarded, more relaxed—but something about it sparked mischief in you. You'd always had a playful, mischievous relationship with Caleb when you were younger. Pranks, jabs, teasing—it had all been part of the dynamic. And now that he was back, you couldn't help but feel a familiar tug to push his buttons just a little.

You'd planned this prank for a while. Slipping into the most scandalous, revealing outfit you could find in your closet, one that certainly wasn’t something you'd wear out in public. You had no intention of actually leaving—just giving Caleb the briefest hint that you were about to, and seeing how he’d react.

You walked into the living room, draped in the most inappropriate outfit you could manage. A fitted dress that barely covered your thighs, a deep V that left little to the imagination, and a loose, barely-there wrap that hung carelessly from your shoulders. Your intention was to get under Caleb’s skin, to push him just a little—just enough to remind him that the old pranks hadn’t gone anywhere.

When Caleb glanced up, his relaxed demeanor faltered for just a second, his sharp gaze lingering on you. There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes, something predatory. But he said nothing at first, just observing you with a cold silence that sent a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened slightly under his intense gaze, but you pushed down the thrill crawling up your spine. This was just a joke.

You took a deep breath, feigning innocence. "I'm heading out to meet some friends," you announced, grabbing your purse.

The shift was instantaneous.

The lazy, relaxed Caleb from moments ago was gone. His can hit the coffee table with a soft thud, his entire frame tensing as he straightened up. His gaze darkened, trailing over your figure with slow, possessive deliberation.

"You're wearing that?" His voice was low, almost casual—but you could hear the undercurrent of something dangerous lurking beneath it.

You swallowed but kept up the act. "Yeah. Why?" You tilted your head, feigning confusion. "It looks good, doesn't it?"

"You’re not going anywhere dressed like that." he muttered, the words falling from his lips in a near-growl.

You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest. "What, you think I can’t pull it off?"

He stood in one smooth motion, and before you could react, he was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist with a surprising amount of force. His fingers were warm, rough, as if he were trying to ground himself with the touch.

"If you're so insistent on showing this side of you to others," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "then it’s only fair that I get to see more of it, isn't it?"

Before you could protest, he hoisted you effortlessly onto his shoulder, your legs dangling in the air as he carried you toward your room like a caveman claiming his prize.

"Caleb!" You gasped, half-laughing, half-embarrassed by the sheer force of his actions. But Caleb wasn't listening. His grip was firm, his footsteps purposeful as he crossed the room.

He threw open your bedroom door, his eyes locking with yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "You think you can strut around like this for anyone else?" His voice was dangerously calm, but the heat in his gaze betrayed the undercurrent of rage—jealousy, possessiveness—swirling just beneath the surface.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he silenced you with a heated kiss, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for argument. His lips were urgent, demanding, but still with an edge of care as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing you in that outfit.

"Do you want me to show you what that outfit can do to any individual with a working braincell?" Caleb murmured against your lips, his breath shallow as he gently pushed you onto the bed. He towered over you, his body a wall of heat and strength, completely commanding your attention.

You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, still shaken by the intensity of the moment. "It was just a prank, Caleb. I didn’t mean—"

His fingers traced the line of your jaw with surprising gentleness before his eyes darkened. "No," he whispered. "You didn’t mean to tease me like this, but now that you have, you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’ve had my fill of you. I don’t like the idea of anyone else looking at you like this.”

You opened your mouth to explain, to tell you weren’t actually heading out like this, but before you could say a word, he was on you, his lips crashing against yours with a possessiveness that left you breathless. His hands roamed down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, gripping you tightly as if he were afraid someone might take you from him.

You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as he pulled away just enough to whisper, “You’re mine, understand?” His words were both possessive and adoring, a dangerous combination you knew too well.

And as your neighbors found out soon after, the only sounds that filled the air that evening were far less friendly than the teasing words you’d exchanged earlier.

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was early. Again.

Technically, he was supposed to be on time tonight—after all, it was his gallery event. But you knew better. You had predicted, with painful accuracy, that he'd find some way to ding-dong ditch his own damn celebration. Which was exactly why he was here at your apartment an hour before you needed to leave.

"I'm only here because Thomas would physically drag me if I didn't show up at all," he muttered from the other side of the door of your bedroom. "Consider this me being a responsible artist. All of you should be grateful."

You hummed, feigning disinterest as you checked your reflection in the mirror. "Oh, I am grateful, Rafayel."

"Good, as you shou—"

He cut himself off entirely as you stepped out from your bedroom.

You had planned this prank the moment you'd heard he was coming early. Because if Rafayel wanted to ditch the gallery, you'd at least make sure he suffered before he got his way. So, instead of slipping into something elegant and refined for an art exhibition, you had opted for something else entirely. It wasn’t even an outfit you would wear outside—it barely covered anything at all, and the material clung to your body in all the wrong places. A sheer, tight-fitting slip with lace accents, enough to leave little to the imagination. The fabric wasn’t completely transparent, but it did the job well enough to make every inch of your skin noticeable. Every inch of skin exposed was deliberate. Calculated. A direct attack on Rafayel's composure.

And oh, it worked.

His entire body stiffened, the lazy smirk on his lips frozen mid-form. His next grape missed his mouth completely, bouncing pathetically off his chin and rolling onto the floor. But he didn't even notice.

For a long, silent moment, all Rafayel did was stare.

Then, dramatically, he clutched his chest. "No."

You blinked. "No?"

"I can't take you anywhere like this," he lamented, waving frantically at all the exposed skin. "You—You will steal the show! The gallery will forget my masterpieces the moment you walk through the door!" Rafayel’s eyes flickered to the door, then back to you, his expression a mix of shock and something darker. “You’re kidding. You want me to take you to the gallery dressed like… this? Everyone will be staring, and I can’t have that.”

He turned his back to you with a huff, clearly flustered. He spun around to face you again, his eyes narrowing, and a flicker of possessiveness flashed across his face. “This is too much. I’m not taking you out like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

His expression faltered, and for a split second, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual dramatic demeanor. “Embarrassed? No!! I just don’t want everyone gawking at my—especially when I’m the one who’s supposed to admire you tonight. How am I supposed to take you out like this? All eyes will be on you, and I don’t know if I’m prepared for that level of attention. How am I supposed to look at this…”

"Is that such a bad thing?" You teased, twirling a loose strand of hair around your finger.

"Yes!" Rafayel practically whined. He circled you like a predator, eyes flickering with a hunger he hadn’t quite named yet. "Some art should be displayed for the world, sure," he murmured, voice turning dangerously low. "But some art? This should be kept private. Mine."

You bit your lip, barely suppressing a laugh. "Raf, it's just a prank. I'm not actually going like this."

He stilled. Then, very slowly, he grinned.

"Oh?" he purred, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. His fingers skimmed the edge of your exposed thigh, tracing your skin before gripping it lightly. "Then you should go change, hmm?"

You moved to step back, but Rafayel caught your wrist. His grip was loose, teasing, but there was no mistaking the heat behind it.

"Ah, wait," he murmured, feigning deep thought. "Actually… No. That would take too long."

You frowned. "What—?"

"We're already late," he sighed, tone laced with mock regret. "And if we're already late, then it doesn’t really matter, does it?"

Before you could say anything else, Rafayel scooped you up in one swift motion, his hands firmly gripping you. “Forget the gallery,” he said, his voice practically a growl. “You’re not leaving this apartment until I’ve taken my time enjoying this… work of art.”

“Rafayel, wait!” You tried to protest, but he was already striding toward your bedroom, his grip firm around you.

“You don’t deserve to wear something this distracting for anyone else,” he muttered, his voice laced with a possessive hunger. “I’ll be the only one to appreciate it properly.”

Before you could even respond, his lips were on yours, demanding and heated, the rest of the world completely irrelevant. You could barely keep up with the intensity of his kiss as he stripped away the fabric, each motion more urgent than the last.

As the sound of Thomas’ calls rang through both your phones, going straight to voicemail, Rafayel didn’t spare it a second thought. The gallery? It was already a lost cause. Tonight, he had you—and he was taking his sweet time with it.

SYLUS

As Sylus prepared for his mission, a sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. He was packing his gear with the meticulous attention of a man who thrived on the chaos he created, readying himself for whatever dangerous task lay ahead. This lifestyle was no stranger to him —the dangerous, dark heart of his empire. But you couldn’t shake the worry that gnawed at you every time he walked out the door. Dangerous, illegal missions were a regular part of his life, and while you knew he could handle himself, the thought of him in harm’s way left you restless.

But you weren’t about to voice that concern—not when he took so much pleasure in riling you up with his teasing. Tonight, you had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine—payback, as you saw it. After all, his teasing and his ability to keep you on edge with his deep voice, knowing smirks, fleeting touches, and that intense gaze deserved a little retaliation. This time, you were going to make him work for it.

Fair was fair.

You stepped into the study, heels clicking against the floor, the sharp sound enough to draw his attention. His red eyes flickered up from his preparations, widening just slightly before narrowing with intrigue. You had dressed specifically to get a reaction—a short, black mesh dress that left little to the imagination, the sheer material teasing glimpses of lace underneath. The plunging neckline dipped scandalously low, while the cutouts along your waist accentuated every tempting curve.

Sylus let out a low, appreciative hum as he leaned back against the wall, taking his time raking his gaze over you.

“And where exactly do you think you’re going dressed like that, sweetie?” His smirk was lazy, but the sharp glint in his crimson stare was anything but.

You let your eyes linger on his figure for a moment, before casually offering, "Actually, I’m heading back to Linkon for a night out—clubbing with some friends." Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you took a few steps closer, and you could see his pupils dilate briefly, his reaction evident, though he masked it quickly with another smirk.

"Well, well," he drawled, his eyes still locked on your attire. "Funny, I’ve never gotten the pleasure of seeing you in such bold outfits before."

You shrugged nonchalantly, your lips curling into a playful smile. "I dress for the occasion."

A small chuckle escaped him, the sound rich and dark. "Interesting, these 'occasions' never seem to happen when I'm around." His eyes trailed over you once more, the intensity of his gaze making your pulse quicken.

He walked slowly, closing the distance between you in a few slow, measured strides. When he reached you, his fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your thigh, the touch featherlight, deliberate.

“I suppose I should consider myself unfortunate, then,” he murmured, trailing his hand higher. “But I’ll be damned, sweetie, you do look ravishing.”

You hummed, feeling the heat of his touch ghosting over your skin. "Maybe ypu were just not paying enough attention before."

His laugh was low, dark, full of amusement. "Oh, kitten," he purred, his hands drifting lower, tracing the dip of your waist before pulling you just a little closer. "Trust me, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you."

Your breath hitched as his palm splayed possessively over your hip, his fingers teasing the hem of your barely-there dress. “Not worried about all the attention I’ll get?” you teased, meeting his gaze.

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost like a growl. "Sweetie, I know you can handle yourself if things go wrong." he said, his hands suddenly roaming over your skin, slow and deliberate, almost as if he were marking his territory. His touch was magnetic, entrancing. His fingers traced your jawline, grazing over the curve of your neck, and you felt the weight of his presence pull you in, closer to him with each movement.

He smirked, as if he could sense the effect he was having on you. "Go ahead. Have fun tonight," he murmured, pulling out his black card from his wallet and offering it to you. "Just don't have too much fun without me." His breath ghosted over your lips, hot and tantalizing, and you could feel his eyes trailing lower

You saw it then—the flicker of something dark and hungry in his stare, a silent challenge laced with possession. It made you want to push just a little further.

“What if I do?”

The moment the words left your lips, you barely had time to react before Sylus’s hands were on you. A startled gasp escaped you as he lifted you effortlessly, locking your legs around his waist. The back of your dress rode up, and his fingers pressed into your thighs, holding you firmly in place as his mouth found yours. The kiss was deep, slow, devastating. He wasn’t just kissing you—he was claiming you, drawing you in until the thought of leaving, of doing anything other than this, felt ridiculous. “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you’re more entertained...” he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with possessiveness, as if you were already his in every sense.

Without another word, he carried you through the mansion, his lips never leaving yours as his pace quickened. He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, his hold on you firm, commanding, as though the very idea of you going out tonight was laughable. His smirk never faltered, his confidence radiating in waves.

“You think I’d let that happen?” he said in a husky whisper against your lips, his voice thick with amusement. As he kicked open the door to his bedroom, he laid you down on the bed with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. “Guess neither of us is going anywhere tonight…”

You tried to speak between stolen breaths, to tell him it was a prank, but he only smirked against your mouth, cutting you off with another slow, intoxicating kiss.His weight pressed you down onto the bed, his hands sliding over every inch of exposed skin. “It’s a good thing you weren’t actually going out,” he mused, voice dripping with amusement. “Because I plan to keep you here… All. Night. Long.”

A thrill ran through you as you realized just how easily he'd flipped the situation in his favor. And you weren't sure if you could—if you wanted to—fight it.

XAVIER

You had been scheming for a while, setting the perfect trap to prank Xavier, and today was the day you were finally going to execute your plan. You’d texted him earlier, asking him to swing by your apartment to pick up the meals you had prepared for him. You knew full well Xavier could barely cook an egg without burning it, so he was always appreciative when you made him something special. You always made quite a batch of food whenever he came over to pick it up so he could store them in his freezer.

He had a spare key to your apartment in case of emergencies, but today, you were going to make sure he’d get more than just food when he came over. He’d always been so calm and collected in most situations that it was infuriating at times. You had tried to get a reaction out of him before but had always failed. But today, it would be different. Today, you knew you would get him to falter. You’d been thinking of a little prank to get a rise out of him—and you knew exactly what would get under his skin.

When you heard the door click open, you made sure to pick up your purse slowly, letting Xavier get a good look at the outfit you’d chosen: A tight, revealing midnight blue dress that clung to your curves like a second skin, the plunging neckline barely covering what was necessary and the high slit on the side showing just enough leg to drive anyone wild. The fabric was soft, almost like a second layer of skin, and you knew it would make his blood run hot.

Xavier’s footfalls slowed, and the air seemed to thicken with tension as he entered the room, his eyes immediately darkening the moment they landed on you. His usually calm expression shifted, but only slightly, and his voice, low and even, carried an edge. “You have plans?” His tone was casual, but you could tell it didn’t match the storm brewing in his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m heading out with some colleagues,” you answered nonchalantly, knowing full well that would get him riled up. In your mind, this was all part of the prank. You were expecting a laugh, a joke, maybe even a playful remark.

His eyes narrowed, the calm veneer slipping away. “Wrong answer.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him with feigned confusion. “Huh?”

“I said, wrong answer. You are not going out to meet them… in that?” He spoke slowly.

“Why not? What’s wrong with the dress? I think it makes me look nice.” You looked at your dress pretending that you didn’t know what was wrong with it. “Plus, I already made plans with them…”

He didn’t hesitate, slamming the door behind him with a soft thud. His hand rested on the doorframe as he leaned in, towering over you. “Your plan,” he said, voice gruff with unspoken demand, “is with me. Right here. And only I should be the one seeing you in that dress. And outside of it.” he added, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Your heart raced, though you maintained an innocent air. “Xavier, come on... I’m just going out for fun. It’s not a big deal.” You tried to laugh it off, but your breath caught as his hands trailed over your skin, tracing your body with an intention that left no room for interpretation.

 You didn’t have a chance to react before he was right in front of you, his frame crowding you against the door, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you slightly.

He didn’t respond to your attempt at casualness. Instead, his gaze was fierce, intense, and utterly unyielding. The meals you had prepared was forgotten. The only thing on his mind was you—and the dress you wore, too.

“Why do they get to see you like this when it’s meant for me?” His voice dropped, each word heavier than the last.

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his voice. The heat between you was immediate, pressing, suffocating. Xavier reached up, his fingers gently grazing your neck, then sliding down to your waist, his touch possessive and slow.

You tried to laugh it off again, your playful nature not quite prepared for how serious he had gotten. “It’s just a prank,” you said, offering an innocent smile, hoping to break the tension. “I am not going anywhere…” You giggled, but it came out a little nervous. “I swear… It’s just a prank, Xavier.”

He blinked once,  the twice, confusion flickering in his eyes. His boyish, innocent looked returned, stunned at your words. He seemed to process it for a moment. Then, the intensity of his gaze returned, fiercer than before. He took a step forward, closing the non existent distance between you, and his lips were suddenly on yours—hard, commanding. His lips crushed against yours, his tongue immediately claiming dominance as he growled low in his throat.

Before you could even process what was happening, you were on the couch, his body pressing you into the cushions. His hands roamed, touching you everywhere. as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Prank or not,” he said, his voice hushed but full of intensity, “you’ve got me thinking about you in that dress with them—with anyone else.” His hands moved lower, sliding over the fabric of your dress. “You thought teasing me would be funny, huh? Let’s see how funny it is now.” His tone was equal parts teasing and threatening, a dangerous mix that made your heart race.

You gasped as his hands found your thighs, pulling you against him, his body already pressing into yours. There was no more pretending, no more games. Xavier’s need was undeniable, and you couldn’t escape the heat between you.

His lips met yours again, deeper, more frantic this time, as if making sure you understood just how serious he was about what was happening between you. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

And when the night ended, teasing Xavier definitely wouldn’t be on your list of things to do again... or maybe it would be.

ZAYNE

The dress was daring—too daring, perhaps. The fabric clung to your body, smooth and sultry, dipping dangerously low in the front and riding scandalously high on your thighs. The sheer lace along the sides barely covered enough, teasingly revealing glimpses of skin beneath. It was the kind of dress that would have heads turning, and you knew it.

That was the point.

You had planned this all too perfectly. A new pastry café had just opened downtown, and you’d invited Zayne out for a date. You had been expecting a reaction when he arrived—maybe a subtle quirk of his brow, a small shift in his usual stoic demeanor. Something.

Instead, when you opened the door and greeted him with an innocent smile, his gaze flickered over you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, the door clicked shut behind him.

His expression remained unreadable, but his movements weren’t. The way he took his time removing his gloves, slipping them off with methodical ease before placing them neatly on the nearby counter. The way his fingers traced the hem of his coat, unbuttoning it in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Interesting choice,” he finally said, his voice calm—too calm—as his gaze finally lifted back to meet yours.

You grinned, shifting your weight just slightly to make the dress slide a little higher along your thigh. “Do you like it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step forward, and you felt the weight of his presence settle over you. His fingers brushed your arm, barely there, before trailing down your wrist. The lightest touch. A doctor’s touch—controlled, precise. But beneath it was something else.

Something simmering.

“Tell me.” His voice was still even, his tone almost thoughtful as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your fingertips. “How far were you planning to go with this little game of yours?”

Your heart stuttered. He knows.

You feigned innocence, tilting your head as if confused. “Game? I was just dressing up for our date.”

“Is that so?” His lips curved, the barest hint of amusement slipping through. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if we went outside right now.”

Your stomach flipped. He wouldn’t.

Would he?

Before you could respond, his other hand moved—so subtle, so swift—and in one seamless motion, he pulled you closer, his fingers splaying over your lower back. Your breath hitched as your bodies pressed together, the warmth of him seeping through the thin material of your dress.

His lips were close now, brushing against your ear. “You forgot,” he murmured, “I know you.”

Your skin burned.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. “Okay, fine. It was a prank.”

Zayne chuckled softly. The sound was low, velvety, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “I knew that before coming over.”

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against the small of your back, and suddenly, you were all too aware of how little there was between you. How easy it would be for him to simply pull—just a little—and the dress would slide right off your shoulders.

You blinked. “Wait, you—?”

“Of course I knew.” He leaned in, his breath brushing against your jaw. “You think I don’t know when you’re trying to get a rise out of me?” The heat in his voice made your knees weak.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as his fingers traced a slow path up your spine, dragging along the zipper of your dress.

“I knew the moment you picked up my call earlier and sounded too innocent. The way you sent me a picture of the food but conveniently cropped yourself out.” His fingers pressed, teasing, against the small of your back. “And now? Now you’re here, looking like this and expecting me to just let you waltz out into a crowded café?”

You barely managed a breath before he tilted your chin up with two fingers, his expression unreadable save for the faintest glint of something more. “Cute.” His lips brushed against yours, feather-light. “But you knew better.”

You shivered at the subtle challenge in his voice, the sheer restraint beneath it. “Zayne, we have a reservation—”

“Mm.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate. “We’ll reschedule.”

“I—”

Whatever you were about to say was swallowed by his kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was deliberate. A slow, consuming thing that left no room for escape. His hands were firm but unhurried as he guided you back, step by step, until your back met the nearest surface—the couch, the wall, you didn’t even know anymore.

Zayne finally pulled away, but only just. His breath fanned across your lips, his fingers still resting against your waist. He looked at you then, truly looked at you, his eyes dark with something unspoken.

“You wanted my attention.” His voice was a whisper now, a dangerous kind of quiet. “You have it.” Your protests faded the moment his hands slid lower, gripping your thighs just enough to make your breath hitch. His lips trailed downward, past your jaw, tracing a searing path along your neck before murmuring, “Tell me, was the prank worth it?”

And as his hands began to move, taking their time, exploring, savoring—one thing became very, very clear.

Prank or not, you wouldn’t be leaving for that café tonight.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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[illou-sainte]

Cuddly wife, happy life.

Zayne was never the type to let others invade his space---but you changed that. Never been the cuddly type at first but you're an exception.

Imagine, he's in a zoom meeting with other doctors to discuss about their important meeting. And when he was instructed to open his cam---his colleagues was met by their head doctor having his wife snuggle against his chest while she sleeps.

His cardigan over your body and you snuggle at his scent. Zayne has a stoic look on his face as he holds you on his arms while you clung to him. His hand gently soothing your hair, careful not to wake you up.

All of his colleagues in the call watches in disbelief and awe---surprised to see the gloomy and serious Dr. Zayne be so soft to his wife. A rare sight.

"Dr. Zayne-"

"Continue your discussion."

They might need to get used of seeing that in a few zoom meetings.

masterlist

[qinche-cvmslvt]

WEAR HEADPHONES

NSFW

TLC from Doctor Zayne

Once again, all audio comes from the game except for the music. No AI.