#zayne x f!reader

[iraot]

Word Count: 5,247 Warnings: anxiety, overthinking, worrying, talks of infertility, self worth worries, zayne being literally the most perfect man to walk the planet AO3 Link

"If my wife is an overthinker, then I'll be an over-explainer; I have no problem putting her mind at ease."

The first time Zayne realized she was an overthinker, they were sitting in his car, parked outside her apartment building. The rain had come in early that evening, drumming against the windshield in a steady rhythm. It was the kind of rain that blurred street lights into soft halos and made the world feel smaller, quieter.

She had been staring out the window for the past three minutes, her fingers idly tracing patterns into the condensation forming on the glass.

“You’re thinking too hard about something,” Zayne said, his voice cutting through the hush of the car’s interior.

Her head snapped toward him, eyes widening slightly. “I—what?”

He turned in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. “You get quiet when you’re overthinking. And you do this thing with your fingers.” He gestured vaguely to the absentminded movement of her hand against the window.

She glanced down, like she hadn’t even realized she was doing it. A small, embarrassed smile flitted across her lips before she sighed. “It’s nothing.”

He waited.

She sighed again. “Okay, fine. It’s just... I had a really nice time tonight.”

Zayne frowned slightly. “That’s what you’re overthinking?”

“Yes.”

He blinked. “You’re overthinking something good?”

She huffed, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, curling into herself. “Because what if this doesn’t work? What if I like you more than you like me? What if I say something stupid and ruin everything? Or what if I’m not what you actually want, and you just haven’t realized it yet?”

There it was. The spiraling. The way her thoughts tangled into each other like threads pulled too tight.

Zayne inhaled slowly. He could have told her not to worry. That she was being ridiculous. That none of those things would happen. But he already knew that wouldn’t help. She wasn’t the kind of person who needed vague reassurances. She needed facts. Proof. A detailed breakdown of exactly why her fears were unfounded.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel once before turning to her fully. “Alright. Let’s go over the variables, then.”

She blinked. “The variables?”

“Yes. First, you said you had a nice time tonight.”

“I did.”

“Well, so did I. That cancels out the first worry—this isn’t one-sided.” He tilted his head slightly. “And the second one, about saying something stupid? Statistically speaking, everyone says something dumb at some point in a relationship. I myself have said incredibly stupid things before.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Like what?”

He exhaled through his nose, a hint of amusement creeping into his expression. “When I was in med school, I was so sleep-deprived that I once called my professor ‘Dad’ in the middle of a lecture.”

Her lips parted, and then, despite herself, she snorted.

Zayne grinned. “Exactly. Embarrassment is inevitable. If you say something stupid, I guarantee it won’t be worse than that.”

She let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a laugh. But then her shoulders tensed again, the deeper worry still sitting in the back of her mind. “And the last part?”

“That you’re not what I actually want?” He shifted slightly, his voice lowering just enough to make her really hear him. “I don’t go on dates for fun. My job is too demanding, my time too valuable, to waste it on something I don’t care about.” He held her gaze, steady and sure. “If I didn’t want this—didn’t want you—I wouldn’t be here.”

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft patter of rain against the windshield.

She inhaled, her fingers still wrapped in the sleeves of her sweater. “You really have no problem over-explaining things, do you?”

Zayne’s lips twitched, his hazel-green eyes warm despite the dim lighting. “Not if it helps.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, and he could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her expression, finally unwinding.

Later, when she climbed out of the car and lingered at the door for just a second longer than necessary, he rolled down the window and called out, “By the way.”

She turned.

“I’m going to kiss you next time,” he said. “Just so you don’t overthink it when it happens.”

Her breath hitched, but this time, it wasn’t worry in her eyes. It was something softer, something lighter.

And when she smiled before slipping inside, Zayne knew—this would not be the last time he had to explain things to her.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

It started with a text message.

She had sent it while he was finishing up rounds at the hospital—just a simple, Hey, are you free later?

Zayne had responded a few minutes later, something casual, something easy. Yeah, want me to pick you up after my shift?

But by the time he pulled up outside her place, she was already pacing the sidewalk, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

He could see it before she even got in the car—the slight crease between her brows, the way she kept worrying at the inside of her cheek with her teeth. He knew that expression now. Knew the way her body language shifted when she was spiraling, thoughts looping over themselves in an endless, tangled mess.

She climbed in, shutting the door a little too carefully, like she was afraid of making too much noise.

“Hey,” he said, glancing at her as he pulled away from the curb. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, fingers tightening in the fabric of her skirt. “It’s stupid.”

Zayne exhaled through his nose. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t mind stupid.”

She huffed, a tiny, almost-there laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes. For a few moments, she just stared out the windshield, like she was trying to put her thoughts in order.

Finally, she murmured, “I think I annoyed you today.”

His brows lifted slightly, glancing at her again. “When?”

“This morning. When you were at work. I texted you first, and I don’t know, you just took longer to respond than usual, and your reply seemed kind of... short?” She bit her lip, looking away. “And I know you were busy, I know that, but my brain just kept thinking, what if I was being annoying? What if I’m one of those people who doesn’t realize they’re texting too much, and I—”

Zayne took one hand off the wheel and reached over, slipping his fingers beneath hers and prying them loose from where she was gripping the hem of her skirt. He laced their fingers together, squeezing just enough to make her pause.

“You weren’t annoying me,” he said, voice steady, certain. “I was in the middle of rounds when you texted. I answered as soon as I had a second.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know that, but—”

“But your brain still decided to worry about it anyway,” he finished for her.

She let out a breath, tilting her head against the seat. “Yeah.”

He turned onto a quieter street, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. “Okay, let’s analyze this. If I was annoyed, what do you think I would’ve done?”

She swallowed. “Maybe not respond at all.”

“Right. But I did respond. And even if I was annoyed, what would the logical next step be?”

She blinked. “Um... you’d probably talk to me about it?”

“Exactly.” He brought her hand up briefly, pressing a kiss to the back of it without taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t do passive-aggressive things. I don’t do silent treatments. If something’s wrong, I’ll tell you. You don’t have to guess.”

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening in his.

Zayne glanced at her again, taking in the way her shoulders had dropped, just a little. It was always like this—her worries curling tight around her like vines, and him untangling them one by one.

A beat of silence passed, then she muttered, “I really need to rewire my brain.”

Zayne’s lips quirked. “Or you could just keep me around. I don’t mind doing the rewiring for you.”

This time, she actually laughed, a quiet, breathy thing, but real.

And when he finally pulled into the parking lot of the little café they liked, he didn’t let go of her hand, even after he put the car in park.

He turned to her fully, thumb stroking slow circles over her knuckles. “I’m not going to disappear just because you send me a text,” he said. “Or because you overthink. That’s not how this works.”

Her gaze softened. “No?”

“No,” he said, firm, final. Then, because he knew her, because he knew the way her mind worked, he added, “And if you ever actually are annoying, I’ll let you know in excruciating detail.”

She let out a startled, half-exasperated laugh, shoving his arm lightly. “God, you really don’t shut up, do you?”

His lips twitched. “Not when it comes to you.”

And later, when they sat across from each other at the café, her foot nudging his beneath the table, he could see it—the way she breathed easier, the way the storm in her mind had finally stilled.

And that was enough.

Zayne found her sitting on the floor of her apartment, surrounded by half-filled moving boxes, staring at an empty suitcase like it had personally wronged her.

She didn’t even look up when he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. He could see it—her mind running laps around itself, her fingers curled into the fabric of her sweatpants, the way she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“You’re overthinking,” he said, because he had long since stopped bothering with preambles.

She sighed. “I know.”

Zayne pushed off the door frame, stepping over a pile of bubble wrap as he crouched beside her. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go through it.”

She groaned, tilting her head back against the couch. “God, I hate that you know me this well.”

His lips quirked. “You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

He nudged her knee with his own. “Talk to me.”

She exhaled sharply, eyes flicking to the half-packed boxes around them. “What if this is a mistake?”

His brows lifted. “You think moving in with me is a mistake?”

“No! I mean—yes? Ugh.” She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. “I want to live with you. I love being with you. But what if it changes things? What if I get on your nerves? What if I do something weird and you realize you actually hate the way I load the dishwasher or fold my clothes or—I don’t know, breathe too loud at night?”

Zayne blinked. “I already know you breathe too loud at night.”

Her hands dropped from her face. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve fallen asleep next to you plenty of times. Sometimes, you make this little noise when you exhale, like a tiny sigh.” He smirked. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

She gaped at him, horrified. “I do not.”

He shrugged. “You do. But see? I already know. And I still want you to move in.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then huffed. “That’s not the point.”

Zayne tilted his head slightly. “Then what is the point?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap, fingers twisting in the hem of her sweatshirt. “I guess... I just keep thinking, what if I ruin it? We’re good right now. What if living together messes everything up?”

Zayne let the silence stretch between them for a moment, studying the way her breath had gone shallow, the way her knee bounced like she was trying to shake off the thoughts clinging to her.

Then he reached for her hand, unfolding her fingers from where they were gripping her clothes, lacing them with his. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s analyze this.”

She groaned again. “You and your analyzing—”

“Shh. I’m working.”

Despite herself, she let out a breath of laughter, small but real.

Zayne continued. “So, let’s start with facts. You love me.”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“And I love you.”

She swallowed. “Yeah.”

“And we already spend most of our time together anyway.”

She hesitated. “Well... yeah.”

“And I already know about all your little quirks.” His voice softened. “I know you keep the spoons separate from the forks in the dishwasher because it ‘just feels right.’ I know you have to have a blanket on you even when it’s hot. I know you like your coffee way too sweet, and I know that when you’re tired, you forget to drink it entirely and then complain when it gets cold.”

Her lips parted slightly, eyes searching his face.

“I know you,” he said, voice quieter now, steadier. “And you know me. This isn’t a risk, it’s a next step. And if something comes up, we’ll handle it. Together.”

She inhaled slowly, like she was trying to let the words sink in, like she was testing their weight in her mind.

Zayne squeezed her hand. “And for the record?”

She blinked at him.

“I want to live with you,” he said simply. “Not just because it’s convenient, not because it’s ‘the next step,’ but because when I come home after a 12-hour shift, I’d rather collapse into bed with you than spend the night wishing you were there.”

Her breath hitched, and for a second, he thought she might cry. But instead, she surged forward, pressing her forehead against his, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?” she murmured.

He smirked. “Of course. That’s my job.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting her head so her nose brushed his. “I love you.”

Zayne’s smirk softened into something smaller, something real. “I know.”

She groaned, shoving him lightly. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still want to live with me,” he said, smug.

She rolled her eyes, but when she sat back, the crease in her brow was gone, the tension in her shoulders finally unwound. She looked around at the boxes again, and this time, her expression wasn’t one of panic, but quiet determination.

Zayne stood, brushing dust off his knees before offering her a hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s finish packing.”

She stared at his outstretched hand for a second before slipping hers into it, letting him pull her up.

And later, when they were surrounded by the last of the packed boxes, when she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sipping her too-sweet coffee while he flicked through the TV channels, she leaned against him and whispered, “I can’t believe I almost let my brain talk me out of this.”

Zayne hummed, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Good thing I never shut up, huh?”

She smiled against his shoulder, and he could feel it—the moment she finally, finally let herself believe.

Her hands were shaking.

She hadn’t noticed it at first, too caught up in the chaos of the wedding preparations—her mother fussing over last-minute details, the makeup artist dusting powder over her cheekbones, the soft hum of music floating in from the reception hall. But now, standing in the bridal suite with her veil pooled over her lap, fingers clenched in the fabric, she realized—she was trembling.

Because Zayne wasn’t here.

And he was never late.

She kept staring at her phone, at the last message he had sent over an hour ago: On my way. Can’t wait to marry you.

No updates. No follow-ups. Just silence.

And her mind was already sprinting ahead, forming theories, catastrophizing, twisting his absence into something bigger than it was.

What if he had changed his mind?

What if he had gotten cold feet and didn’t know how to tell her?

What if she had missed the signs, what if he had only thought he wanted this but now, on the way to the altar, had realized—

Her phone buzzed.

She jolted so hard she nearly dropped it.

Zayne.

She fumbled to answer, pressing it against her ear so fast she barely registered her own breathless, “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” came his voice—calm, steady, warm. Familiar. “I need you to do something for me.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Zayne, where are you?”

“First, I need you to breathe,” he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, grounding cadence that always managed to cut through the noise in her head. “Deep breath in for me, okay?”

She swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. “Zayne—”

“Baby,” he murmured. “Breathe.”

Her throat tightened. But she did it. Inhale, slow and shaking. Exhale, a little steadier.

“Good,” he said. She could hear the faint hum of his car’s engine through the receiver, the occasional honk in the distance. “Now, I’m going to explain what’s happening, and you will not assume the worst until I’m finished. Deal?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay.”

“There was a pile-up on the highway. No one’s hurt, but it backed up traffic for miles. I’ve been inching forward for the last forty-five minutes, and I’m about ten minutes from getting through the worst of it. I’m going to be late, but I am coming. I will be there. I am marrying you today.”

She blinked rapidly, staring at the floor. The knot in her chest loosened, but the panic hadn’t fully left. “But what if—”

“Nope,” he cut in, gentle but firm. “No what ifs. No spiraling. Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”

She let out a shaky breath, pressing her fingers to her temple. “What if—what if this is a sign? That something’s off?”

Zayne exhaled through the receiver. Not exasperated, not frustrated—just knowing. Like he had already predicted this exact worry before she even spoke. “Alright. Let’s break that down. What would this be a sign of? That the universe doesn’t want us to be together?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, soft and unwavering, “the universe has thrown a lot worse at us, and we’re still here.”

Her breath hitched.

“Think about it,” he continued. “We survived me being in med school while you worked full-time. We survived the long shifts, the exhaustion, the nights where I fell asleep mid-conversation and you just laughed and pulled a blanket over me. We survived you almost backing out of moving in together, and me annoying the hell out of you by explaining, in painful detail, why you were overthinking it.”

That startled a breathy, half-laugh out of her. “You did do that.”

“And I was right,” he reminded her smugly. “And I’m right now, too. This isn’t a sign of anything except that traffic is shit, and I need to leave earlier next time.”

She sniffled, pressing her palm to her eyes.

His voice softened. “You still with me?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said, relief threading through his tone. “Now, tell me the truth—are you standing there in your dress, looking stupidly beautiful, worrying about the one thing you don’t have to worry about?”

She glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. Her dress fit perfectly, the veil draped like something out of a dream, the delicate lace covering her shoulders. And yet, none of it mattered. Not if he wasn’t here.

“I just—” Her throat went tight again. “I just want you here.”

“I know,” he murmured. “And I will be. But in the meantime, I need you to do something for me.”

She swallowed. “What?”

“Find my mom,” he said. “Tell her what’s happening, so she can keep everyone calm. Then, go to the mirror, look at yourself, and remind yourself that I am coming. Because this isn’t your worst fear coming true. It’s just a logistical nightmare.”

She exhaled, her heartbeat finally slowing from a frantic sprint to something steadier.

“And while you’re at it,” Zayne continued, a smirk creeping into his voice, “consider how dramatic of an entrance I’m about to make. Pretty sure me rushing in, still half in my suit, to marry you is going to be some next-level rom-com shit.”

She let out a choked laugh, rubbing her temple. “God, I hate that you’re making me laugh right now.”

“You love that I’m making you laugh right now.”

She sniffled again, but this time, she smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

“Good. Now go find my mom,” he said. “And keep breathing. Because the next time you hear from me, I’ll be at the altar, waiting for you.”

And for the first time since she had realized he was late, she believed him.

She sat on the edge of their bed, hands clenched into the fabric of her pajama pants, staring at the single pink line on the test.

Another negative.

She had known it before she even took it—had felt it in the hollow ache of her body, in the familiar weight of disappointment pressing against her ribs. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

The bathroom light was still on, its glow bleeding into the dim bedroom, casting long shadows along the walls. The clock on the nightstand read 2:13 AM, the kind of time that existed only for insomniacs and worriers.

She was both.

The floor creaked, and she barely registered the quiet rustle of blankets before Zayne’s voice, heavy with sleep, cut through the thick silence.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was low, rough-edged with exhaustion.

She didn’t answer.

The bed shifted as he sat up, and a moment later, she felt the warmth of him—his presence wrapping around her before he even touched her. A second passed, then another, and then his fingers brushed against her knee, tentative at first. Testing. Feeling out the weight of her silence.

Finally, he asked, “Another one?”

Her throat tightened. She nodded.

Zayne let out a slow breath, the kind that said I know. I know what this means to you. I know how much it hurts.

She clenched her jaw, her grip tightening on her pants. “Two years.” The words felt heavy, bitter in her mouth. “Two years of tracking cycles, vitamins, doctor visits, stupid fertility teas—two years of getting my hopes up just to end up right back here.” She let out a short, sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. Only exhaustion. Only anger. “I think it’s time to admit it, Zayne. I might not be able to get pregnant.”

She felt his hand shift, fingers trailing slowly up her thigh before settling over hers, prying them loose from the fabric she had been clutching like a lifeline. He held her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her knuckles in slow, methodical strokes.

“Okay,” he said. Just that. A quiet, steady acknowledgment.

Her breath hitched. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No.” His grip on her hand tightened, gentle but firm. “But I need you to tell me exactly what you’re afraid of before I tell you why you’re wrong.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. “I’m afraid that I’ll never give you a child,” she whispered. “That I’ll never be able to give us the family we wanted.”

Zayne exhaled slowly, then shifted forward, his presence overwhelming in the best way—warm, solid, here. He reached for her, guiding her between his legs so that she was sitting against his chest, her back pressed into the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, one hand slipping beneath her shirt to press against the bare skin of her stomach.

“Alright,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Let’s break this down.”

She let out a half-sob, half-laugh. “God, you and your breaking things down—”

“Shh,” he hummed, kissing the side of her head. “I’m working.”

She sniffled, but she didn’t pull away.

His fingers traced slow, soothing circles over her stomach. “Fact number one: The ability to get pregnant does not determine your worth. It does not determine whether you are enough for me. You are enough. Always have been. Always will be.”

Her throat closed up.

“Fact number two,” he continued, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. There are options—treatments, specialists, other ways to have the family we want. And I say we because this isn’t your burden to carry alone. It’s ours.”

Her breath stuttered.

His arms tightened around her, his voice softening, dropping into that low, reassuring timbre that always made her feel safe. “Fact number three,” he whispered. “I didn’t marry you because I wanted a baby. I married you because I wanted you.”

A sound broke from her throat, something fragile and small.

Zayne pressed his lips against the side of her neck, lingering. “A child would be a gift, but you—you’re the dream, sweetheart. You are my family.”

And that—that—was what shattered her.

The tears came fast, hot and silent, spilling over before she could stop them. She turned in his arms, pressing her face into his neck, clutching at his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Zayne just held her, one hand in her hair, the other still pressed to her stomach, as if anchoring her to the reality he was trying so desperately to make her see.

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in the quiet darkness of their bedroom, in the heavy stillness of a truth she hadn’t let herself believe until now.

And when she finally found her voice again, it was small, hoarse. “You always know what to say.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his lips still against her temple. “Of course. That’s my job.”

And for the first time in two years, she let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—they were going to be okay.

The car ride home was silent, but not the kind of silence that came with comfort.

It was the too still, too fragile, afraid-to-breathe kind of quiet.

She sat in the back seat, her body turned slightly toward the impossibly tiny person strapped into the car seat beside her. One hand hovered over their daughter’s chest, not quite touching, as if she was trying to convince herself that the gentle rise and fall of breath was real.

Zayne kept glancing in the rearview mirror, catching the way she barely blinked, the way her fingers twitched like she was fighting the urge to undo the buckle and pull their daughter into her arms.

“She’s okay,” he murmured, his voice breaking through the hush of the car.

Her gaze flicked to him, wide and uncertain. “What if she’s not?”

Zayne exhaled through his nose, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Then, statistically speaking, you will know before the car even stops.”

That earned him a glare, sharp but not real. He could see it—the way she wanted to be irritated, wanted to snap back that this is different, but she was too exhausted, too overwhelmed.

Still, she pressed her fingers gently to their daughter’s tiny chest, feeling the rhythmic little breaths beneath her palm.

The driveway appeared sooner than he expected.

It felt different, pulling up to the house with her in the car.

For years, it had been just them. Two people in a house that had once felt too big, too empty. And now, suddenly, it was as if the space had shrunk, like the walls had shifted to accommodate this new, impossibly small presence.

Zayne parked the car, then turned to look at her fully. “You ready?”

She swallowed. “No.”

His smile softened. “That’s okay. We’re doing it anyway.”

She let out a shaky breath, nodding.

He climbed out first, moving around to open her door while she unbuckled the car seat with careful, practiced motions that still felt foreign. Her hands trembled slightly, but she didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate as she lifted their daughter into her arms.

And then she just... froze.

Zayne didn’t rush her.

He watched as she stared down at the tiny bundle against her chest, eyes tracing every delicate feature like she was memorizing her for the hundredth time. Her fingers hovered over the soft down of their daughter’s hair, brushing lightly, reverently, as if the moment she pressed too hard, she would disappear.

“She’s ours,” she whispered.

Zayne stepped closer, pressing a hand to the small of her back. “Yeah,” he murmured. “She is.”

For a moment, she didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

And then, finally, she tore her gaze away, looking up at him, eyes glassy with exhaustion and something deeper, something heavier.

“What if we’re not good at this?” she whispered.

Zayne didn’t answer right away. He reached out, his fingers settling over hers, pressing against their daughter’s impossibly small back. He let the silence stretch, let the weight of her words settle before he finally spoke.

“Well,” he said, voice low and warm, “if we’re bad at it, she’s got no frame of reference, so she’ll never know.”

She let out a half-sob, half-laugh, and he took the car seat from her hands before she could collapse completely.

Inside, the house felt... different.

The air was heavier, charged with something new. The walls that had once held only the quiet sounds of two people learning how to love each other now had to stretch, make room for the soft, uncertain presence of someone else.

She stood in the middle of the living room, their daughter still tucked against her chest, staring at nothing.

Zayne set down the car seat and moved toward her. “Sweetheart.”

She didn’t respond.

He touched her elbow, and she blinked, startled, like she had been somewhere else entirely.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I don’t—she’s here, and I don’t know what to do.”

Zayne let out a slow breath, reaching out, slipping his arms around both of them. He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice soft and steady. “Okay. Let’s go over what we do know.”

She closed her eyes, her breath hitching. “Zayne—”

“Shh,” he murmured. “Fact number one: She’s here. She’s real. We did it.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

“Fact number two: She’s warm, she’s breathing, and despite all your worrying, she seems to be a very content baby.”

She let out a shaky laugh, barely more than an exhale.

“And fact number three?” He reached down, gently brushing his knuckles against their daughter’s tiny cheek. “We love her. And that’s the biggest thing, sweetheart. That’s the thing that matters most.”

She let out a small, broken sound, pressing her face into his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her from unraveling.

Zayne held her tighter, cradling both of them, anchoring them in the moment.

And later, when their daughter was finally asleep in her crib, when the house was still and quiet again, she curled into him in bed, her fingers tracing absent shapes against his chest.

She let out a breath. “We’re really parents now.”

Zayne pressed a kiss into her hair. “Yeah.”

A long silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t uncertain.

It was warm. Steady. Full.

And then, quietly, she whispered, “What if she doesn’t love us?”

Zayne exhaled a quiet laugh, pulling her closer. “She will.”

“But what if—”

“She will,” he said again, pressing another kiss to her forehead, lingering there. “Because we love her. And because she’s got the most overthinking, stubborn, impossibly wonderful mother in the world.”

She smiled against his skin.

[veseartheneum]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ HEART'S SANCTUARY

No matter how much time passed in his company, you always found new ways to surprise him.

pairing ― mof!zayne x f!reader word count ― >700 cw ― fluff note ― this was my very first mof!zayne fic and it is very special to me, he's so damned cute I wanna squish him. as well as @starmocha for encouraging me.

The world was still — serene in its beauty beneath the aged tree that held secrets and lives so effortlessly. Each branch was woven in wisdom and consisted of lifetimes that could be read by the single petal of a flower; every flower an epitome of a lifelong lived. 

You knew, as you stared from the very roots to the very top of the canopy, that it was always going to be an enigma to you. A mere mortal in the presence of a deity’s cultivation of aeons. 

That very deity was calmly sitting at the wooden table, as you expected. 

Zayne never faltered from routine or habit — the scrolls that his gloved fingers brushed over were read once, once more, then sorted to piles that you would have to scour through at a later date, much to your annoyance. But with the near close of the festival, it seemed a sense of mercy was delegated to your mentor and master — your days were peaceful and quiet, filled only with adventures with Hua and Bai. 

It would be a fool's errand to waste the opportunity that was placed neatly in your lap. 

The breeze was so soft as it kissed your skin, fluttering the hem of your tunic slightly as you walked quietly towards Zayne, who was wholly invested in the bamboo slips before him. 

Golden rays of sunlight fell over his broad shoulders, the embellishments of his robes shone as though precious, and you knew they were — imbued with magic only known to the Gods themselves. 

His hair, darker than a Raven’s feathers but somehow just as soft as the downing feathers of a duckling, moved across his back when he shifted his head, whether to sip from his cup of tea or to grab the next sheathe. 

“If you have nothing to do,” Zayne said simply, his gaze not wavering from the bamboo slats painted with ebony ink in front of him. “Perhaps I should revoke my tolerance for you slacking off.”

“You wouldn’t,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defiance. 

Zayne hummed thoughtfully. “I would.”

“Unacceptable.”

He turned at that, forest green and golden hued irises stared at you curiously, the smallest hint of mirth in his expression by the pull of his lips. The youthful expression sent a pang of something akin to longing through your heart. 

“And yet, you are the one to approach me when I expected you to be frolicking with Hua.” The slats of bamboo shuffled against the solid surface of the wooden table, and Zayne turned back to grab the next one. “How odd.”

“You’re the odd one,” you teased, walking closer. The soft foot falls of your shoes made the blades of grass part silently. “Mister ‘I-don’t-know-what-fun-is’.”

Zayne only shook his head, a heavy exhale making his nostrils flare in annoyance. 

You advanced slowly, each step measured until you were right behind him, your shadow casting a tall, imposing figure that reached far over his shoulder. 

Just for a moment, maybe even a mere second, Zayne’s hand faltered and twitched on the slats he was reading, and his shoulders froze as though he was bracing himself for something. “What are you doing?” 

You pounced — your arms wrapped around his shoulders in a lazy embrace, and you draped your front over his back to rest your chin on the back of his head — careful to avoid the decorations of his headpiece. 

A grunt of surprise rumbled through his back, and you giggled. Slowly, you moved your chin from his head to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The proximity made your heart sing in contentment — the closeness made Zayne’s chest stutter on a breath he held with nervous anticipation. 

It was no secret he was not an openly affectionate man, but to have someone so forward with touch made his own heart race.

“I’m hugging you,” you said softly, shuffling your feet closer so your whole body was enveloping him from lower back to shoulders. “Because I wanted to.”

“You are…”

Zayne shifted slightly, and you moved your chin to his shoulder so he could glance at you — although suspiciously and sideways. Your arms moved downwards to rest over his biceps, and you squeezed with a soft cry of happiness. 

“Are you alright?” He chuckled, the corners of his eyes lifting with his smile. 

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “I’m happy.”

[vesearlee]

──── 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑨𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕

It was the duty of an assistant to assist in all matters their employer may need — paperwork, errands, fetching things from near and far, but this mischievous feline took the role and ran with it, and you had no choice but to rewrite the definition of demanding when she had her way with the busy doctor.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Zayne x F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 2.5k 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── T 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Tooth Rotting Domestic Fluff, humour, flirting, established relationship, Zayne is the best cat dad, Zayne’s sweet-tooth can never be defeated 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ── I couldn't get this scene out of my head for weeks and I finally articulated it just how I wanted it, I am free!

───  𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕  ───

The bottom of your shoes crunched over the fallen leaves scattered by the wind on the front steps of Zayne’s home, a soothing sound that caught the attention of your companion who watched with bright, wide eyes. “Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked, shifting your grip over the small body. 

A small purr was your only answer, given the trail of a burnt amber leaf falling from the sky was far more interesting. 

“Ah, there she is,” a voice called, muffled behind the wooden door. The handle clicked and swung inwards to reveal the source — Zayne. And to your surprise, he was dressed in his classic slacks and dark dress shirt, with his signature glasses perched on his nose. “Just when I thought you wouldn’t come back home.”

You scrunched your nose and furrowed your brow, indignant at the accusation. “It was only a small walk!” The bundle of fur in your arms: a fluffy, white kitten, agreed with you loudly — the mewl at the sight of her second favourite human made Zayne smile softly. “We missed you.”

“Is that so? I wouldn’t have imagined Jasmine could miss her second favourite.”  

“Of course she did,” you replied, walking forward and taking the steps one by one. When you reached his tall figure in the doorway, you leaned in towards him and he gently kissed you on the lips before closing the door behind you. 

The space that made up Zayne’s living room and adjacent kitchen was spotless as usual. A few pillows were misplaced on the couch — the touch of home your doing — and you raised a brow at the sight of a couple of small cat toys in a basket: a small mouse, a bell, and a stuffed toy that looked suspiciously like a macaroon. “You’ve been busy…”

Soft footfalls came up behind you, and the feel of his hands encircling your waist sent a shiver up your spine. “I only picked them up the other day. I thought she’d like them,” Zayne chuckled, his voice quiet in your ear. 

The pad of his index finger traced up from your waist to your arm, and towards the kitten in your hands where it scratched the fur between Jasmine’s ears. A loud purr made the furry kitten’s whole body vibrate with the intensity. “Hello, you.”

Wordlessly, you maneuvered Jasmine and held her against Zayne’s chest, who stumbled back a step with a grunt of surprise. “Hmph–”

“C’mon, you said you had work or reports or something to do today and we’re here to keep you company.” The sound of your footsteps echoed in the large space, and you headed towards the kitchen for a warm drink. “She’s your assistant—she’ll be perfect to help you with them and whatever else you need to do.” 

“...Very well.” Zayne followed behind you, his voice barely above a whisper while he cooed at the kitten. 

You glanced over your shoulder to find Jasmine rubbing against the side of his face and up towards his ear. The contrast from the snowy-white fur of her coat and his raven hair only made you smile, and when Zayne caught your gaze, you witnessed how his hazel eyes held such adoration for the creature. 

A smile tugged at your lips, and you gestured towards his office down the hall. “Well, chop chop! Get to it, that’s what she’s saying.”

“Assistants shouldn’t be so demanding,” he huffed, turning away from you to start walking towards his work. 

“Just you wait.” The clink of your favourite mug and his far duller one against the countertop made you giddy with excitement — given the doctor’s sweet-tooth, he was always guaranteed to have acquired the best hot chocolate, and you busied yourself with preparing the two treats with a flourish. 

With both mugs in hand a few moments later, you started to make your way towards his office, only you stopped short at the melodic sound of his voice. 

“And here,” Zayne said quietly, “is where we put— No, stop it, you tyrant.” The sound of plastic scooting over the wooden surface of his desk was followed by a deep, regretful sigh. “You are so much like your mother. She’s a bad influence on you.”

You bit your lip to stifle your snort of laughter, and you leaned closer to the door, both mugs in hand and a book you snuck from his bookshelf held snug to your side by the crook of your elbow. 

“Come here, little one,” he teased, and you heard the tap of a finger against something that rustled softly. “You can play with these instead, I need that pen.” The soft patter of paws followed his compromise, and an almost silent trill. “There you go.”

The temptation to peek was far too much to bear. 

Slowly, you peered around the doorway and towards the window, where a large desk was placed. Shelves of files and books lined either wall, as well as small props and figurines were scattered about, livening the space with touches of personality. 

On the desk, you could spy a photo frame by the monitor screen — one of the many photos you had insisted upon taking at the ski resort. It was one of your most favourite moments: seeing Zayne’s hair covered in snow while you held his face between your hands truly had been memorable. 

A slight shuffle of footsteps brought your attention back to the matter at hand, and you struggled to keep quiet at the sight of Jasmine batting at Zayne’s wrist and shiny watch while he typed. Her small behind sat on the permitted stack of papers, while her even smaller, fluffier tail curled with her playful intent in time with the clicks of the keyboard. 

You could see the minute movements of her head while she watched his fingers move, and before you could warn him of a potential attack, she pounced. 

Zayne let out a noise of shock and froze — from his knuckles to his forearm was covered in the whole of Jasmine’s body, the white fur of her coat sticking to the black sleeve of his shirt like a second skin. 

You couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. “Oh no, she’s at it again.”  

“Will you–?” he asked, his voice strained against the urge to laugh with you. “She’s a handful, just like someone else I know.”

“You poor thing.” The mugs fit perfectly on the coasters at his desk, and you leaned against the large desk drawers with your hip to take in the scene. “Asking me to take care of an unruly intern? Has the serious, frowning chief grown soft and sweet after so much sugar?”

The side-eye glare Zayne shot you made you almost buckle over in mirth — the glow of his eyes seemed to brighten with the taunt, and you dramatically wiped your cheek from pretend tears. “I can’t believe my eyes,” you breathed in awe — his admission truly astonishing.

“Just take her, please. And I will have this,” he said, deft fingers wrapping around the handle of his mug, “as my compensation. You should prepare more, for if I have to sue for damages…”

Your hand flew to your chest in mock offence. “How dare you! I run a tight ship with my assistants, it is not my fault that you can’t bear to tell her no.”

“Troublemaker.” 

You sneered and poked his shoulder. “Grouch.”

From that moment on, the office was filled with the occasional chatter and whispers of taunts to the playful feline; bets of how many treats she would receive for distracting the other. The mugs had long been emptied and refilled several times, and you couldn’t help but feel content at being cosied up on the lounge chair Zayne placed in his working space just for you. 

It truly felt as if the simple, unassuming piece of furniture had been in place for longer than it truly had been, but when he had surprised you with the gesture, you could recall just how you felt: the flutter of your heart in league with the butterflies in your stomach, as well as the love you held for him and the fact he noticed your need to be closer. 

Over time, the couch had been broken in with many late nights reading books or binge watching a show with headphones, if the busy doctor couldn’t be disturbed. 

Not to mention, the longer you stayed nestled into the cushions, the more suspiciously new blankets and pillows appeared. Your favourite was currently draped over your lap, the side of your hand that held your book resting on top of the crisp white plush fabric, whiter than snow. Light blue polka-dots were scattered in a carefree, artistic way, and you couldn’t help but pet over the soft areas with your palm absentmindedly. 

Zayne swore he bought it purely for the reason of: “It matched what you described as my colours, darling.” 

You rebuffed with the fact: “It looks like the snowman plushie on your desk.” The truth of that argument was discovered when a subtle tinge of pink moved from the tips of Zayne’s ears to his high cheekbones. 

Sighing, you turned the page of your book, humming with content at the origin of your comfortable couch, when it happened. 

“Jasmine.” Zayne’s tone was uncharacteristically sharp, and you looked up from the words of the page you were currently invested in. 

The kitten, ever meddlesome, had wormed her way beneath the monitor and started to bat at the smaller cords that led from the screen and down the back of the desk. She didn’t listen, too engrossed in her mischief making. 

Zayne rolled his eyes behind his glasses and reached out to wrap his hand around her middle. You couldn’t help the slight chuckle at the loud whine of protest that came from the kitten. “She’s just trying to help,” you insisted, though you failed to hide the amusement in your tone. 

“She’s only causing trouble,” he grumbled, and he placed Jasmine on his chest, her paws pushing against the muscle there hard enough to wrinkle his once pristine shirt. His large hand pet down her back and held her bottom half so she wouldn’t fall. “Hm? Your only intention is to distract me and cause chaos.”

Jasmine’s pink nose bumped against the tip of Zayne’s. 

“I know, you are cute, yes, little one,” he murmured, his free hand now moving the mouse of his computer. “But I have to get this done—afterwards we can play.”

The sight warmed your heart more than any hot chocolate could, and just when you thought it could not get any cuter, Zayne kissed the top of Jasmine’s head gently and placed her down on his desk closer to you. “Why don’t you bother your mother so I can get this done faster?”

You scoffed, but placed your book down, nonetheless. “Yeah, sure, use me as a scapegoat.” Jasmine tottered towards you, her ears perked forward at the sound of your voice, and you smiled at the little kitten. “C’mere, sweet girl.”

A comfortable silence stretched once more after Jasmine settled in your lap, her ears and nose twitching slightly as she investigated your book. Every now and then, you read a sentence aloud and watched with amusement as she looked up at you, curious as to the events of the story, no doubt. 

“How can you be so sweet?” you asked her quietly, scratching her chin after she yawned. 

“What a coincidence. I ask myself that every day about you. When you have the answer, do share,” Zayne mused aloud, his gaze homed in on the screen, though a slight smirk pulled at the visible corner of his lips. 

The sudden heat of the room made you gaze at your lap shyly, but you couldn’t deny the swoop of your stomach at the sweetness of his words. “I eat too much sugar, that’s why,” you replied quietly, and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

Time still seemed to slip by as you sat comfortably settled on the couch, Jasmine in your lap and the story evolving to be mysterious and full of turns. Though, the kitten had grown restless again, the absence of any ability to cause trouble while in your lap had gotten to her, and her patience began to wear thin. 

You glanced from your book to Zayne, who was busy typing away on reports, his hazel eyes reading through line for line what care he provided to the patient, when it came to you — as an assistant, Jasmine was to be delegated important tasks to better the workload on her charge, which just happened to include the necessity for rest, and the dire need for laughter. 

He always said your laughter could be the cure for all of his ailments…

The book closed quietly, and you moved to hold Jasmine with one hand, the kitten unusually still and cooperative as you maneuvered you both off of the couch. 

“What are you up to?” Zayne asked suddenly, but his gaze did not shift from the screen. 

You startled. “Uh– Nothing, I was just thinking of getting a snack…?” It was a flimsy excuse. 

He only said a quiet, “Hm,” in reply before his typing resumed at the fast pace he was exceptional at. Only when you felt his focus was wholly back upon his reports, did you dare to move again. Your feet were silent over the floor as you padded towards his chair, your accomplice in hand — silent and ready to strike. 

“I know you’re behind me, love.” The click of keys continued, nonplussed nor slowed in their rhythm. 

It was time. 

Jasmine let out a victorious mewl as you placed her upon her target, and you giggled as she wagged her tail. 

Zayne made a choked sound of shock and indignation, ducking down at the sudden weight on the crown of his head — soft paws held fast, however, and she followed where he moved with a purr louder than ever before. 

To say the sight was comical was understated. In the reflection of the monitor and the windows behind it, you saw Zayne’s expression turn from dumbfounded into playful annoyance, the curve of his grimace resembling more of a grin. The kitten was bright eyed once more and kneaded her paws into the black hair, tousling it from its normal neatness. 

“Is this my assistant’s demand that it’s time for a break?” he asked, arching a brow while one of Jasmine’s paws slid from his mussed hair to his forehead, knocking his glasses askew and forcing his eye to close. The open one stared at you from the reflection of the monitor.

“It sure is, Doctor Zayne—we say it’s time for sweets.” 

“Oh? It’s ‘we’ now?”

“I meant she says–” You backpedalled. 

Zayne took off the crooked glasses and stood from his chair, turning around while one hand steadied the kitten on top of his head. “A good doctor always listens to the orders of his superior.” He kissed you on the lips and pulled away, laughing at the way Jasmine batted at your forehead. “Come on, before little miss becomes too unruly for being left out of any treats.”

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ── Tolkien Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Play Fighting • B2 ── MASTERLIST ── Eclipsing Bingo (@eclipsingbingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Playing With Someone's Hair • G3 ── MASTERLIST

[grabby-smitten]

M A S T E R L I S T #4

F*ck, Marry & K*ll - LaDS Edition game

H E A D C A N O N S

Sylus is for those who…

Abysswalker Rafayel (suggestive)

O N E - S H O T S

Hybrid!Sylus

There’s no privacy in a house of five (Sylus)

How to build a fence in three steps (Sylus)

King of the beasts (Lion hybrid!Sylus) 18+

Naga!Sylus blurb 18+

The Secrets of the Flame Manor (Ghost!Rafayel) 18+

Mean Rafayel blurb 18+

Message in a bottle (Rafayel)

Mean kitty (Cat hybrid!Rafayel) 18+

Pinky promise || Part 2 18+ (Hybrid!Xavier)

Werewolf!Zayne blurb 18+

Alpha!Xavier x Beta!Reader 18+ (A/B/O)

Fairy!Rafayel blurb (suggestive)

My yapping about Sylus 24/7 ML

Grabby-smitten © 2020-2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any form or social media. 

Animanga blog masterlists

[darlnosis]

♯    LADs Men Visuals . . .

pairing ⋮ separate LADs x fem!reader     ⟢

syn ⋮ smut , mdi 18+ , imagine them spreading you wide open and fucking you here and there     ˎˊ˗

cw / tags ⋮ twt porn links obv , fingering , missionary , titplay , spanking , oral , cowgirl , humping , creampie

Caleb ⟢

- all these years and he couldn't wait, now he finally gets to shove his cock in and out your pussy after a long leave

- what he's sending you in his bathroom because he can't fuck you atm; he's so hard :/

- you asked for it; caleb tying you up and fucking your guts out

- dryhumping your childhood friend's thigh because you're so horny and needy :(

- rutting behind you against the drawers in the other room and hoping gran doesn't hear

- fingering and humiliating you in front of the mirror because his best friend is so prettyyyyy

Sylus ⟢

- straddling sylus as he massages your pretty tits

- how he has you on the couch after a long day

- sylus after beating down on his cock because he misses you so much; pls come back to him </3

- devouring your pussy like he's a starving and dying man; he hopes luke and kieran can hear the both of you through the wall

- he loves rubbing your clit as he fucks you nicely after tearing off your favorite lingerie

- you deserve getting a spanking after being so annoying and naughty to sylus

Xavier ⟢

- slow and soft missionary before bedtime because he missed you so much <3

- making him cum through his boxers because you're both too lazy and tired to take everything off

- getting too excited and having you in so many ways against the walls

- sweet morning sex because he can't get enough of you

- xav got bored and wanted to send something teasing for not giving him a goodbye kiss this morning

- he loves how squishy and soft your ass is while he has you over his lap and his finger digging inside your pussy

Rafayel ⟢

- getting spread out and whining for rafayel to breed you

- acting like an annoying brat and denying that you'll cum for him... he'll prove you wrong

- you were being mean to him earlier so now he has to be even meaner by fucking your back

- rafa loves the noises you make when he suck and teases your nipples with his tongue

- he's imagining that his sucky silicon toy is your ass :(

- guiding you kindly to take his cock in so many ways

Zayne ⟢

- zayne cumming inside his sweetheart after her desperate pleas and begging >_<

- dolled up for him after a short shift for funsies, now he has you over the armrest

- rubbing dr zayne's boner before work so he can be hard and thinking about you for the rest of the day

- breeding you in broad daylight after a long week working at the hospital ^_^

- fucking you with just his thumb after you were being a brat the whole day and sending him teasing photos at work

- car sex under the rain after a romantic date night with zayne <3

[kykyonthemoon]

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well. 

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box.  But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

[zevrra]

may i request some more nsfw love n deepspace <3 i love the headcanons u posted aaa

one more—

tags: 18(+), mdni, very nsfw, suggestive content, fem!reader, short & sweet, men of LaDS!!

creator notes: omg i’m glad you liked them!! i haven’t played the game (i have but like when it first came out!) so i know none of the lore and hope i wasn’t writing the men ooc or anything aaaaa!!!! but i’m glad you enjoyed them enough to request for more!! thanks for requesting as well!

SYLUS—

actually makes you wear a collar and a leash

your first time together was rough, both of you fighting for dominance over each other but ultimately he won

degrades you!!!

calls you “kitten” when you please him but any other time he’s telling you how pathetic you are for wanting him as badly as you do

loves it when you’re a brat solely so he can break you later

is so into tying you up, forcing you to take whatever he gives you

especially likes it when he ties your hands behind your back and makes you ride him

loves to watch you struggle

you have a safe word for a reason!!!!!!

is 8 inches and thick as all hell, deep red tip, veiny

RAFAYEL—

the first time you both wanted to be intimate he was a nervous wreck

took you a few times to steady his hands and convince him that you wanted it too

worships you like a goddess when you fuck

i secretly think he has amazing stamina but hides it from you

that way you’re on round 3, overstimulated and he’s asking “once more please one more time my love.”

begs you for it!!!

i’d like to think he’s a switch! let’s you start things, get him all heated and needy, then he takes total control

also think he’s always in the mood

24/7 he wants to touch you, taste you but holds himself back and instead makes jokes

is probably 6.5 inches, curved, and flushed pink

XAVIER—

you two struggle to go on missions together anymore solely because you always want to touch each other

always requests for you to be his partner too

loves having sex under the stars

especially when you ride him and he gets to see the stars halo your head

his max number of rounds he’s gone without passing out is 3

once he wakes up though he’s ready to continue

knows every single one of your weaknesses

he rarely makes noise when you two fuck but constantly reminds you how good you look

“baby you look so beautiful.” he says as he has your legs on his shoulder, pounding into you

is roughly 7 inches, thicker at his base, a nice red tip

ZAYNE—

your first time with him was definitely either in his car, office, or his apartment

uses his tie to keep you quiet

he likes to let you think you’re in control but really you both know he is

uses the excuse that he’s “always cold.” and needs you to warm him up

forces you to look at him when he fucks you

especially when you want something, makes you look him in the eye as you beg him for it

praises praises praises!!!!!

“good girl.”

i also think he’s horny ALL THE TIME but only when you two are together!! then he stares at every move you make and thinks to himself how he’d take you right then and there

8.2 inches, veiny, thicker head that’s a pale pink

[m00njinnie]

The softness they need - lads x reader

Just a couple of little ideas that were floating around in my head for the last week. Its been so long since I've actually put anything I've written online. Like...over a decade. So please be nice (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) Zayne x f!reader & Sylus x f!reader - mostly fluff, some suggestive tones too. No beta because life is short and the world is falling apart. We got no TIME for triple checking.

The those around the great Dr Zayne Li, everything about him was sharp.

The chill of his Evol, the steep slope of his cheekbones and his strong jaw line. The focus he gave to his craft and the genius of his mind that propelled him to his position at the hospital today.

So many people assumed that his edges rarely softened. Even his bedside manner, whilst pleasant, was always calm and precise.

But the world had a way of maintaining balance and for Zayne, you were his.

Where he was logical, you led with heart.

Where he was cautious, you followed your gut.

You were the sun, rising over frosted ground to melt his ice away.

Busy days at the hospital, the ones where all of his careful planning was pointless in the face of the world’s chaos, the days where he did everything right but things still went wrong, the days where…he didn’t win…they were always ended with softness and love.

He knew that no matter how awful things could be, when he returned home you would be waiting. Usually in his bed, all warmth and smooth skin, sleepy and docile as you fought sleep just for him. So you could ask him how his day was and soothe any frustration or cheer any successes.

On the rare occasion that his day ended at a semi-sociable hour, he would instead find you in the kitchen preparing food for you both. Wearing one of his t-shirts, you would sway and sing softly to the music playing as pans sizzled and water boiled. It was so domestic it always made his heart melt. Those after-work meals would always be his favourite. He would take a home cooked meal in casual clothes late at night with you over fancy restaurants any day. And always after those home cooked meals were shared showers that consisted of breathy moans and decadent and greedy touches.

When he had days of reprieve from work, though they were few, your exuberance for life led him away from his home where he would no doubt pour over medical reports and texts despite being off the clock, and instead out into the world to be something other than the decorated surgeon. Whether visiting your favourite arcade to try to take home whatever new plushie was in your favourite crane machine, stopping for sweet treats at his favourite cafe, or occasionally attending whatever fair or event Linkon had to offer, your hand was always in his. Comforting and warm.

You led him through the world when needed and he was content to follow you wherever. To the ends of the earth if required. As long as he could forever stay orbiting your sun.

Where the world treated Sylus with fearful respect, like a weapon ready to fire at any moment, your approach was so far away from that, it had taken Sylus time to get used to it. You treated him with such soft care, with gentle touches and reverent gazes, as if he were the most precious gemstone or work of art.

On the days where he came home dirtied by blood and dust, you would think wash the grime away with such tenderness that it felt as if the sins of his work were rinsed away too. When his energy was depleted and his Evol delayed in healing all of his wounds, you would bandage him up without comment, placing a kiss on every bruise.

When the twins were being too much, you would effortlessly distract them for him so he could get some work done. When Mephisto needed a tune up, you would dutifully set out all of his tools and watch with childlike fascination. He had asked once why you enjoyed watching him perform such a mundane task.

“I enjoy any time spent with you, Sylus.”

Your eyes had been so honest and wide, your words plain as if he were the fool to not understand.

And even in the more explicit moments of your relationship, every action was underlined by your quiet devotion.

Where his subordinates submitted to him from a place of fear or debt, your submission was from total trust and love.

When you let him lead your relationship, let him dote on you, make the decisions, take charge when necessary. And also in the private moments; when you were on your knees for him looking so pretty and obliging, when you would lie back with hazy eyes and flushed cheeks to let him take what he needed. The submission you yielded every day was given freely because you wanted to. Because it was another way to take care of him.

You were his good girl. His sweet little kitten. The sugar his coffee-bitter world needed and he couldn’t imagine life without your sweetness.

[satrs]

Overdrive! ♡

✎A/N; here it is babes!! sowwryyy for the eternal waittt! CALEB'S IS SOOO LONG OMG IDK WHAT HAPPEND Y'ALL!!! Regardless, rlly hope ur enjoying it^^ xoxo

SYNOPSIS. Requested by anon ↳ ❝ [..."YOUR WRITING IS DELECTABLE OMG. I was wondering if you’d ever consider writing the lads men with a reader who is insatiable/has a high sex drive and/or ovulating and has her way with him until he’s completely worn out/begging to take a break 🫠" ] ¡! ❞

FEAT. RAFAYEL. CALEB. SYLUS. XAVIER. ZAYNE. xfem!reader

TAGS. NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! MARATHON S€X!!!! breeding. size k!nk unprotected intercourse. dirty talk. gripping their a$$, oh em gee dirty mouth zayne??!!. prone bone in Xav's. doggy. ur insatiable lmao, overstim, riding, begging. slight dumbification in sum. messyyy s€x. Caleb matching your freak(per usual). lotsss of spit and drool. oral (f & m receiving in caleb's), possessive guys. multiple positions.

ꪆৎ RAFAYEL

Your thighs are soaked and if you could, you'd feel embarrassed right now.

But that thought barely registers over the raw heat twisting in your belly. It's just the way Rafayel's broken moans and his hands trembling on your hips as you ride him that remind you just how much of a mess you are.

"Drippin' alllll over me, cutie," The wrecked gasp makes your pussy only embrace his cock in a snug hug, his grip on your hip tightening. "D-don't ya wanna take a lil break?— F-fuckkkk. M'—"

"N-nooooo, Raf'."

God, you're gonna be the death of him.

He's already at his wit's end, his spent cock barely holding onto the vicious grip of your greedy pussy. But once he heared your protesting whine over the obnonxious wet squelch squelch squelches of your sobbing cunt, he can feel his cock throbbing hard.

Your eyes meet the far back of your skull as you feel his girth swell, streeeetching your walls apart again so good.

"Don't wanna stop. Feels sooooo good, baby." The shy smile twitching up your plump lips is a stark contast to your ruthless hips slamming down onto his pelvis, and even though his dick is sweeling so angry he fears he might explode, he's still going to eat it up like he does every single time.

"Ohh-kay, cutie. G-gonna— gonna give my baby what she wants."

A strangled sound rips from his lungs as your walls clench around him again, cock twitching so frenzied inside you, glistening with your mixed juices, and so spent but still so ravenous to ram into you, deep.

He's flushed deep red now, your hands almost slipping from his sweat-slicked chest, coral locs sticking to his temple where he lies beneath you in a daze.

"Pretty." You spurt out, heat flooding your body as you take his face in hand, running your shaking flinger over his quivering, kiss-bitten lips. "You look so pretty Raf. Want— no need to—"

"F-fuck, baby, yer' gonna milk me dry," he chokes out, voice breaking on a whimper.

Oh, he's not lasting for long.

His eyes roll back as your walls clamp down on him again, fluttering so tight, so wet, it feels like your body's trying to wring every last drop out of him.

And you do.

Your hands slam down on his chest now, grinding down with reckless, mindless need. "Y-yes." you sweet growl, makes the hair on his neck stand up, teeth caging his lip. "Need you to fill me up, Raf. Need it sososo bad— hurts, it hurts!"

You bounce harder, thighs quivering, the obscene squelch of your slick echoing through the room with every punishing slam of your hips. His cock twitches inside you, overstimulated and swollen, flushed an angry red from how many times he's already shot his load into you, but your greedy cunt just won't let him go.

It’s damn near deafening—the relentless thwack, thwack, thwack of your ass slamming down onto his thighs.

The sound is soaked in slick, each impact wetter than the last. His spent, hot and thick cum already spilling out of you from your insatiable hunger, sticking messily to the insides of your thighs and the curve of your ass, smearing with every bounce, making everything sticky and so much worse.

“God, you're—fuck—you're making a mess of me, cutie," he gasps, clutching your waist like a lifeline, trying to slow you down, but your body has other plans. Your selfish walls tighten around him like a vice, milking his angry, flushed tip for every squirting spurt from his slit.

"I need you to cum again. Please," you cry out, grinding down deep, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each brutal drop of yours. "Wan' your cum, Raf! Need ya to fill me up again, wanna be stuffed, baby. Can't—nghhh!—can't stop until you breed me."

"Breed you?"

The sound he lets out is downright animalistic, his hips snapping up with brutal force, matching your pace with a ferocity that makes your eyes roll back. "Fuckin insatiable. Already dripping and it's still not enough, h-hahh?" He's fucking up into you now, ironclap grip on your hips surely leaving marks as your body jolts and falls ontop of his, your restless hips twisting and twitching against his brutal thrusts.

"G-gonna pump your greedy fucking pussy so full— o-ohhh, yeahhh."

You whimper is so high-pitched you barely recognize yourself anymore, body convulsing as your climax rips through you, and even in your haze you don't stop. You keep clenching, desperate to squeeze another load from his overstimulated, twitching cock.

He's babbling now, lost in it, eyes glazed and teeth clenched so tight he might break his jaw. "Ohhh, it's comin, m' cummin' take it take it take—"

"Mhmmm, give it ta me, Raf! Allll of it, one more, pleaseeee!"

At that, his slit spurts one last whispy load of cum into the depth of your pussy, and you grind happily down onto him to make it stay there, deep inside of you, humming in delight at the warmth flooding through you.

And as he feels your fluttering walls clench around him again, your hips slowly grinding down again, his head falls back against the sheets, a raw, desperate whimper escaping his throat.

Your walls clamp around him fiercely, squeezing so tight, demanding more.

He can't. He can't he can't he—

His hands dig into your ass, lifting you higher, up, up, up— until his cum seeps from your spent, dripping heat, a pleased sigh following suit.

But then your eyes meet his, wide and pleading, and your hands wrap around his slick, spent cock, fingers trembling as they stroke him, coated in his own mess.

Well, he can surely take—

"One more, please?"

Right?

ꪆৎ CALEB

Hot.

The only word to describe your feelings right now, because it has you wound up so tight, you're trembling. You think you might explode if you're sweet, teasing boyfriend won't fill you up this very moment.

But the way Caleb's looking at you in the mirror, he might beat you to it.

"You feel it too, don't you, Cay'?" you whisper, rocking your ass back against the bulge straining so painfully in his grey sweats.

They cling to him, snug and low on his hips, almost too tight. His bare chest is fully exposed, every cut of muscle gleaming under the low light of the room, your squirming shadow dancing over his skin and reflecting off the mirror.

His grin is sharp, eyes burning with hunger, preying over you through the mirror, a palm pressing to your lower belly, just below the waistband of your panties.

"Feel it? Baby, I smell it."

His voice is a growl against your skin, lips dragging slow and wet down the curve of your neck. He breathes you in, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from your neck all the way to the shell of your ear. "You're soaked."

You whimper as he rolls his hips, grinding his aching cock into you, still hidden beneath the fabric of his boxers. His other hand cups your throat from behind, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.

"Look."

You do.

"O-oh."

It's fucking obscene.

Your panties are halfway down your thighs, your legs shaking as you brace yourself against the dresser, your boyfriend's bare chest pressed to your back, hand tightening against your throat, almost daring you to look away.

Burning. Every fieber of your being is burning up, screaming at every slight touch of him. The faintest brush of his fingers against your skin sends you twitching.

A needy whimper slips out as you feel the thick press of his bulge grinding against your ass. You arch and roll your hips back into him, shamelessly, pleading without words, silently begging him to do something— anything, to ease this ache between your thighs before you actually go insane.

"In all these years together," he murmurs against your ear, voice low and dangerous. "I've never seen you like this, pips'. What's got you so hot and bothered tonight?"

You meet his eyes in the mirror before tearing them down to his fingers tugging at the hem of your panties.

"It's y-your fault. All because of—"

"Me?" His grip tightens, voice a whisper against your ear in surprise.

"Mhmmm."

"Hm. Can't have my baby all pouty now, can I?"

He whirls you around in one fluid motion, effortlessly scooping you up and tossing you onto the bed

Fuck that damned mirror, he wants the real thing.

He rips your panties the rest of the way off, strong biceps pushing your legs apart, groaning low in his throat at the sight of your weeping cunny, screaming for his attention.

"Oh fuckkk," he mutters, eyes wild and flickering between your glisterning pussy up to your flustered face. "T-this is—" he pauses, finger swiping through your folds to collect your slick, dick jumping in his pants as he sees your hole clenching around nothing, juices dripping in the process, "—heaven."

You whimper as he dips down to lick a stripe up your inner thigh, hot breath ghosting over your pussy. You could damn near scream from his endles teasing, damn near crying as your hips buck up towards his face with a frustrated groan. "N-no teasin'! Please, pleasepleaseplease—"

"Hush, baby. It's her turn now."

Before you can even think of quirking your eyebrows in question he's already burying his face between your thighs, and you let out a scream.

His tongue is fucking relentless, flicking the muscle over your clit with cruel precision before loooong drags collect your juices, his adam's apple bobbing as he's slurping up every drop.

It's like he's starving, and well, maybe he actually is.

His hot tongue circles your puffy button slow just to watch you twitch, then sucks it between his lips with so much force that your legs threathen to clamp around his head.

Until you actually do.

Thighs locking his head in place, your hands scrambling through his hair. He groans against your pussy, the sound feral, almost a whimper, sending vibrations straight through your core. Your fingers scramble through his thick brown locs, tangling and twisting until you're yanking them hard from the roots.

"Yeahhh, use me, baby. C'mon."

His rambles dissapear into your pussy, responding moan so filthy and needy. He could get used to this new neediness of yours.

God, he loves this.

He wraps his arms tighter around your thighs, locking you in place, and whining into your pussy like he's gone mad.

"Just like that, Cay'! Nghhh! don't stop, soooo good!"

Yeah, he's gone mad.

And you? You're gone.

Drooling, rutting your hips into his mouth without a shred of shame. Your body moves on instinct now, so lost in the pleasure that your eyes flutter shut, tummy sucking in as you feel yourself nearing your release.

Slurp, slurp, slurps fill the room and it's so messy— your juices coating the lower half of his face, some bleeding into the sheets below.

He glances up, pulling back just enough, and fuck, what a sight.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, wide and glassy pupils blown. A firm drip of drool escapes the corner of your mouth, tracing a long line down your chin. You sniffle softly, nose red and a thin sheen of sweat clings to your skin.

"My poor, poor baby."

The soft tone of his voice is a stark betrayal of what his mouth is doing to you.

His tongue is merciless, flicking and lapping at your folds with so much persicion, every lick calculated to push you further towards your limits.

He latches onto your clit with a groan, sucking hard, your thighs seizing up around his head in a headlock. Your fingers claw uselessly at the sheets, legs kicking, entire body coiled tight.

"G-god, Caleb! So good, don't stop, don't—"

Right then, your orgasm crashes over you with so much force, your head digs back into the matress. Your hips buck up wildly, unable to process the sudden pleasure washing over you, and your sweet, loving boyfriend licks you through it.

He just keeps going, keeps tasting you, even as your thighs shake and you try to twist away from from him, his wet hot tongue overwhelming you.

It's so much, too much, but still, you want—

"M-moreee! Wan' more! Need to—"

Smack!

The sharp sudden sting hits your soaked pussy before you can finish the sentence, palm cracking against your sensitive folds with a wet slap. You let out a loud, broken cry, your head twisting against the pillow as your thighs clamp together on instinct.

"No worries. Gonna give it to ya'."

Only then does he spread you open with both hands, thumbs dragging your slick folds apart to admire the way you twitch and throb. And only then does he finally pull back, tongue slipping out to taste you one last time, his chin and lips soaked, glistening with your juices.

He stays like that, lower face shining in your essance, to lazy to even bother wiping it away as his eyes lock onto you, pupils darkening.

And as he sees your hungry gaze he silently thanks the whole damn universe for your sudden neediness today.

Fucking finally a time for his inner freak to shine.

You're already moving before he says a word, scrambling weakly up onto your knees, hands clutching at his waistband like a woman possessed.

And maybe you are.

"Hurryyyyyy," you whimper, dragging the word out through a long sob. "P-please, baby! Pleaseeee, I want— Need you in me right now."

Oh, how impatient you are.

Eagerly, he shoves his sweats down and kicks them off, cock already flushed and leaking from the torture. He doesn't dare to tease, already climbing ontop of you to grab your hips, and drives into you in one deep thrust.

The stretch is so sharp and overwhelming that you scream out, white-hot blaze overcoming you.

Your walls clamp down around him so fiercely he groans, his pre squirting out with urgency, head falling back, eyes rolling shut.

He underestimated you.

"H-holy shit, baby—so damn tight— h-hahhh!"

You're already back into your drunken daze, meeting his thrusts as your heat-addled clit grinds against his faint brown trail of hair.

"Harder," you pant, nails clawing at his shoulders, his strong arms quick to lift your legs onto his shoulders, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

But it's not enough.

"I said hahhh-harder, Caleb—"

He growls, pushing your legs firmly against your shoulders, your legs dangling above your head as he slams into you faster now, rougher. Unrelenting. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, the new position causing your muscles to burn from the stretch, and every thrust hits you so deep, fat tip kissing your cervix, your vision blurs.

"Not gonna last," he blurts out, mouth covered in your slick now attacking yours, diving in as if your mouth would grant him air. "You're too fucking—shit! Toooo good—"

He's going to be the death of you.

"C-cum inside, baby." you moan, hands griping his shoulders, biceps, hips, anything to make him ram into your greddy cunny faster, longing for him to prod at your womb. "Need your cum, baby. F-fill me— uhhh! up!"

His balls tighten, almost painfully so, mouth hanging open as drool drips down, right into your awating mouth and he just know this isn't going to be the last load for him tonight.

He knocks the breath out of you with a brutal push of his hips, his girth hauling your walls further apart as his fat mushroomy head throbs, close, soooo close to fill you to the brim.

"A-alright, pips. Anything for my needy princess."

You're going to be the death of him.

ꪆৎ SYLUS

You're trembling, knees straddling Sylus's broad hips, riding him like your entire body burns with desperate need. His hands grip your thighs, trying to ground you, get you to slow down, but it's already to late.

"Gods," he groans, voice hoarse, on the brink of cracking. His dark, ruby eyes in search of yours and you swear he grows even larger inside you as your eyes lock. "You're killing me here, sweetie."

"M' sorry, Sy. Can't stop, can't—"

His lips crash down onto yours, muffling your pleas with a desperate kiss. His strong hands tighten on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, every thrust deeper and more urgent than the last.

"You don't have to," he murmurs against your mouth, voice thick with lust, ruby eyes eating you alive. "Have me. Use me."

He's done it now.

You grind down harder, hips snapping desperately against him, breath uneven and broken. And every frantic roll of yours pulls a low growl from his throat, his girthy length pulsating inside your gooey walls.

His hefty cock draaags along every sensitive nerve inside you, thick and heavy, stretching your weeping walls to their limit and you swear he gets harder with every needy rut you throw at him.

"Honey, I don't think I can—"

His jaw clenches tightly, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he struggles to maintain his composure. His head sinks into the sheets, gray hair forming a halo around his head as cheery eyes flutter before snapping back to yours, pupils blown wide.

"Y-you're so— sooo"

"Hmm? M' what, Sy'?"

You whimper, grinding down until he's pressed so deep you can feel him bulging inside your lower belly, leaving a visible imprint of himself there.

And It's only driving you further into insanity.

"You're gonna ruin me," he pants, voice thick with lust, a slight crack audible. "Ohhh, gonna fucking ruin me, sweetie. L-look at you."

You press your forehead against his, panting, your walls clench so tight you feel every vein and even the slight right curve of his girth.

Sylus's hands travel up your sides, grip ironclad, his thumbs digging into your ribs. His control is slipping, obvious in the way his dark ruby eyes widen, groan rumbling in his chest when you shift your weight and rock your hips harder against him.

He oggles at your eyes rolling to the back of your head, gripping your nape and pulling you down until his mouth meets yours agar, slamming his mouth against yours with such force, teeth and tongues clash.

"You're everything," he mutters against your lips, saliva connecting you both, voice cracking under the pressure. "So fucking perfect."

Your nails dig into his shoulders, breath hitching in desperate gasps in rythm to the bed creaking under you both as his hips jerk, matching your frantic rhythm.

"Keep going, love." He breaks into a grunt as your head falls into the crook of his neck, painting his ivory skin with bubbling drool.

"Thaaat's my girl."

There's nothing else inside your fucked out mind except for him him and more him.

Sylus. Sylus. Sylus.

Feisty hips bouncing on him, desperate to feel every inch, every frantic pulse, your walls fluttering, dragging Sylus closer to the edge with every desperate thrust.

And you notice from his deep groan, his parted lips aswell as his hands sliding under your arms, pulling you impossibly closer. His breath fans across your skin, heavy and ragged.

"You're driving me mad." He's a drooling mess himself now, thighs clenching as his balls tighten up, so damn close to filling your eager cunt up.

You lift your head before pathetically falling against his lips, saliva messily smearing all across his lower face.

He growls, hips snapping up with brutal force, obscenely loud and wet plap plap plap echoing the room, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging in like you could dissapear if he ever dared to let go.

"I'm close" He moans shamelessly into your mouth now, burrying his cock deeper, reddened tip hitting your cervix with each of his bold jerks up into you. "So close."

"N-ghhh, me t-toooo!" you sob, words barely forming through your moans.

"Gonna cum! Gonna fucking cum, Sy! Pleaseee—"

Then he surges upright, wrapping one strong arm around your waist, the other sliding down to grip your ass with a loud smack! and slam you down on him, over and over until you're voice betrays you, wails and whimpers flooding out from your lips.

His cock drives up into you so deep your toes curl, hitting the same perfect spot again and again, robbing cries from your sobbing pussy.

Plap plap plap.

"Better hold on tight, sweetie."

He grabs your hips, slams up, and fucks you like he hates you. The bed shrieks, holding on for deat life as the headboard rattles against the walls and in these moments you're thankful you live in the N109-Zone with no neighbours.

"Yesyesyes! Js like that, Sy!"

There's a thick white ring of your slick forming at the base of his cock, clinging to him with every brutal thrust, and when he looks down and sees it, something snaps inside him.

He flips you onto your stomach, quickly slipping inside your addicting heat again, as if it pains him to not be inside your for any second longer. His cock slips back inside your dripping heat with a lewd twack! and the both of you groan, breath hitching in sync as he sinks in to the hilt for the nth time tonight.

Your back arches, panting against the pillow as your nails claw at the sheets, loud whail earning a breathless chuckle from man above.

"Please Sy! Need your cum s-so bad— need you to breed me."

He lets out a broken sound, somewhere between a gasp and a growl before burying himself deep with one last snap of his hips.

His body stiffens as his cock twitches and pulses inside you, flooding you with wave after wave of hot white cum. You clench down hard, milking him for what he's worth, moaning his name as your own orgasm hits like a shockwave, body trembling beneath his.

He stays pressed against you, breath harsh against your neck, hand splayed across your lower back to keep you right where he wants you, lewd squelch from your stuffed cunny letting out a broken whine. You twitch under him, drooling into the pillow, body still shaking from how hard you came.

"This heat's not out of you yet, is it?"

You shake your head with a weak cry, drooling against the pillow.

"Then," he muses, kissing the shell of your ear, slow and almost sweet,

"Best start picking out a new bed you want, sweetie."

ꪆৎ XAVIER

"It's little moments like these,"

he pants against your ear, "that remind you just how much more my sweet princess can take."

You're out of breath, slick and shaking from everything he's already wrung out of you, but he couldn't care less. He doesn't even want you to recover and catch your breath.

And he sure as hell doesn't let you.

He spins you around like youre a mere feather-weight, palms branding into your hips as he manhandles you onto the bed, chest down and ass up.

Your hands scramble for purchase, fingers knotting into the sheets just as you feel the blunt heat of his hefty length press between your thighs again, his cock smearing pre over the curve of your ass, coating it in a shining glee.

"Could get used to you being like this, you know," he hums, one slender finger tracing up your stomach before resting on one of your breasts, giving it a tight squeeze, "you loooove getting all cockdrunk and dumb on me, huh?"

"Mhmm! Love you! Love your—"

"Say it right."

His words pierce through just like his dick through past your puffy folds, tip curving right against the spot that has you mewling out, almost like a button being pressed.

A sharp smack! to your ass follows his firm words, soon rubbing soothingly over the reddened globe as his cock slides out, leaving only his tip cramped in your hole.

"L-love it when you fuck me dumb, Xav'! Love getting drunk on your cock! But p-please..."

Your hips jerk back, earning a growl from his as he inspects your greedy pussy engulfing half of his length now, eager to suck him back in whole.

"... Still not enough. Need more."

Your pleading whimpers are muffled against the pillow face first as he fully rams into you again, body firmly pressed against yours. His throbbing girth is fully nestled inside you, his light chuckle hot against your ear.

"Talking outta that greedy pussy again."

You bite your lip in shame or amusement, you don't know. Desperate and wild grinds of your hips move back against his, rutting hard with every agonizingly slow drag of his hips.

He slides in and out of you like butter, your previous squirts of juices and his thick hot cum creating the perfect lubricant.

It's filthy— the kind of slick, nasty glide that sends sparks through your overstimulated nerves. Every time he pulls back, a string of mixed fluids clings between your swollen folds and his soaked cock, glistening, connecting you to him like a leash. The wet schlik schlik schlik of it echoes in the room, punctuated only by your choked moans and the brutal slap of skin on skin.

You're so swollen, so stretched, your body clutching at him like he's your prey.

"Tight fuckin' thing," he snarls, hands gripping your waist, forming half moons with his nails on your skin. "Keep moving those hips for me, angel— o-oh fuckkkk! Don't stop."

You don't. You can't. Rutting back with abandon, desperate and so greedy, your hips roll and slam into his with haste. You can feel every throb of his cock inside you, feel it twitch and pulse as his rhythm grows savage.

Fuck, you could die like this— pressed neatly against the sheets with your beloved boyfriend rutting you deeper into the matress for the nth time tonight.

His pace turns feral, brutal, the whaming of his hips against your ass growing harder, meaner.

"Y-yes! Yes, Xav! Gimmie more baby," you pant, hands reaching back to grip at his ass, thigh, anything to make him plug deeper into you, your stuffed cunny shrieking and squeking with every of his brutal thrusts, "m-more."

"My pillow princess can't even think straight now, hmm?. She's doing the talking for you now, huh?"

You grind faster, rubbing your clit against the curve of his pelvis, breath hitching in shaky gasps. The way he holds you, the weight of him pressing into your back, makes you lose yourself completely— heat spilling over, body shaking with need.

"Greedy little hole doesn't wanna let me go," he hisses, panting harder now, fucking you through the clench, feeling your now god-knows which-one-orgasm aproach. "A-ahhhh, hear that? Oh yeah, so fucking loud, begging me to fill her up again."

No answer, you're just cumming, squirting against the sheets, orgasm hitting you like a punch in the gut and fuck— he surely is digging in it.

His hand wretch your head up by your neck now, ocean eyes drinking up your agape mouth, lolling out tongue and your fluttering eyes, biting his lip to keep him from cummin in you right then and—

Shit.

Xavier's voice catches in his throat. His head tips back, throat bared. His hands try to grip your waist, then fall limp beside you helplessly, falling right ontop of you as now faint whisps of cum spurt out, meekly adding to the previous buckets of cum resting in your flodded pussy.

And he's still hard.

Well, you don't seem to be satisfied either. Not with your desperate arches, trying to get him to move even though he's fully laying ontop of you, barely leaving you air to breathe.

"O-one more." you purr, one hand trailing down to lock his fingers with yours.

He twitches inside you weakly, shaky sigh escaping him and glassy eyes snapping open.

You still want more?

"You're killing me, princess."

You giggle against the pillow, low lidded eyes shooting him a smug grin, spit painted mouth glisterning.

"Good."

ꪆৎ ZAYNE

In what world could he've known that his sweet little wife could get like this?

Sure, he's always pliant to your needs, always does his best to grant your every wish, make you happy. He'd kiss your ankles if you asked, worship the ground you walked on with no shame at all.

You're his wife, after all. His one and only.

But this? This has his mind fucking reeling.

He's never, not once, seen you like this—wild-eyed and sweat-slicked, mouth parted in shameless moans as you grind yourself up into him with no sign of stopping. Your nails drag hot down his spine, then grip tight around his ass, pulling him into you, holding him there like he might even think to leave.

Like he could.

Zayne groans, loud and ragged, hips stuttering as your soaked, greedy cunt sucks him right back in every time he tries to pull out. You're milking him, clenching down; your body refusing to give him a moment's rest—and it's driving him insane.

"Not e-enough," you gasp, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice so wrecked it makes his cock twitch inside you. "Need more. Wanna feel your cock deeeeep inside."

Well, he can't complain, to be honest.

"More?" he pants, almost incredulous. But the way he smiles, like he's so far gone on you it hurts says everything needed to be said. "Already fucked my darling wife dumb. Doesn't even know what nasty of a mouth she's got on her now."

You just moan, nodding that fucked-out little head of yours frantically, lips dragging across his throat as you rock your hips up again, taking him even deeper. He moans, losing his rhythm completely, slamming back into you with a helpless sound that borders on a whimper.

Your light chuckle sweels his heart—and cock. You kiss his cheek, sweet and breathless. "Yours, Zayne. All yours. Now give it ta' me."

You've done it now. You broke your poor husband's brain.

Before you can blink, he's flipped you over, your knees pressed into the mattress, arms trembling under your weight. You barely register the movement before his leaking tip is already forcing its way back in, sliding through your slick pussy.

He spanks you. Hard.

"You want more?"

"Oh fuckkk yes, I—!"

But he's not talking to you. His gazes falls directly down to your greedy cunny sucking him in, examining the mess that drip drip drips down your legs and onto the sheets.

"Want me to ruin my pretty wife, huh?"

He snarls at your snug cunny and takes the loud squelch! as an answer, bracing his hands on both of your ass cheeks, spreading you wiiiide to get a better view.

"Alright. Then take it, you nasty girl."

Skin slapping skin, his hips driving forward in brutal, punishing thrusts, fucking you with none of that usual sweetness of his. Just raw, filthy. You cry out, over and over, face buried in the sheets, hands clawing for purchase, head spinning with dizziness.

God, you're husband's out of this world. You're not even sure what you did to deserve a man like him.

"I'll take it, all of it!" you sob, hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. "Want it all, Zayne! W-wanna feel all hot and full inside—!"

He actually growls like some beast, ramming his cock damn near into your poor womb, and you scream when his hand snakes down and smacks your clit, a wet slap! followed by furious circles that make your thighs quake.

"You like that, don't you?" he growls, head falling to the crook of your neck to sink his teeth into your shoulder, earning a shriek. "Like me pounding you stupid while your pretty little cunt begs for more?"

You nod frantically, sobbing, helpless to the way your orgasm starts to crest, so tight and fast, your walls spasming around him, trying to milk him again.

"My wife's talking outta her pussy again, huh?" he huffs, snapping his hips harder, tip forming a deep buldge in your tummy. "Sloppy little hole just keeps begging. She's so loud, baby."

Your orgasm slams into you like a wave, shattering you completely. Your arms give out under the weight of it, body collapsing onto the soaked sheets as your cunt gushes around him, spraying down your thighs in a messy rush, soaking his cock and making a lewd, slick sound as he fucks you through it. And he doesn't even slow down, just drives in harder, chasing his own end with vicious rams.

"Want more, Zayne... please,"

Voice wrecked and slurred, your body's still trembling from the last orgasm. You're soaked, dripping, stretched and raw, but that greedy little pulse in your cunt won't stop—you're still needy, still aching.

Zayne's panting above you, face flushed, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He’s still buried to the hilt inside you, cock twitching, cum leaking out around the base with every tiny clench of your slick walls.

"W-what about a quick break, darling? Promise I'll—"

"N-noooo," you whine, lip wobbling, eyes stinging as water builds at your lash line, hipsalready back to rutting and arching back into him, his fresh seed spilling from your overflowed hole. “Pleaseee, baby. Want more, my husband's fucking me soooo good."

"Alright then."

His voice is wrecked, but the second he sees the tears in your eyes and the desperate grind of your hips against his, he snaps. Whatever doubt or exhaustion he had left is gone.

He leans in close, presses wet kisses to your cheek as his thrusts get messier and more frantic. "Happy wife," his cock twitches deep inside you, mushroomy head pulsating with fatigue, spurting the last remnats of his whispy cum,

"happy fucking life."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[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 !

[madamechrissy]

Jealousy, Jealousy

This was inspired by the Caleb art in the banner by @baobei-bu please love on ALL their art!! Their JJK/LADS art is PEAK

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Warnings- PWP pretty much, a smut oneshot- HEAVY yandere Caleb, mating press, cum play, oral (f recieiving) tummy bulges, cervix hitting, panty stealing, fingering, overstim, he calls you pip squeak LMAO, JEALOUS obsessed Caleb

My first time for Caleb hehe, rbs/comments appreciated if you enjoyy

"Who is that, Pip squeak?" Caleb murmurs that question with a little smile, as you tense just a bit, feeling your cheeks heating up under his scrutiny, sipping on the straw of your milkshake, letting the sweetness hit your tongue. The two of you have been gaming the day away, taking just a little break in the kitchen now

"It's a... friend." That's what Xavier was really, your sweet friend, who is currently sending you heart emojis.

"Oh, a friend huh? Why so secretive then?" He teases, tapping your nose and just being far... far too close. You shouldn't think so many things about him like this, should you? But you can't help but like his cologne a little too much, like just how his brown locks were falling over his forehead just so, how you can see so much of his muscles flexing in what he wore.

"Just a friend." Your little smile drives him insane, he outwardly laughs, but he can't stop thinking of who's been with you while he's been away, has anyone touched you? When you're meant to be his.

"Let me see then." He yanks your phone high, dark violet eyes flashing for a moment, turning as you sputter and he scrolls through your last messages. "And who is Sylus... Rafael and... Dr. Zayne, I know him, and-"

"Give me my phone back, jerk!" You jump for it, but Caleb is stupid tall, holding it up and feigning a smile he really doesn't feel like giving right now, thoughts racing.

Were you with somebody?

That would never do.

Perhaps he's been gone too long, and you've found someone, but that wouldn't last long when you'd be his. Caleb hands you it finally, laughing a bit as he pats your head. "Relax, Pip Squeak, I was just messing with ya. So cute when you're angry."

"Oh, whatever. Back to the game?" He nods, watching as your bouncy ass sways in whatever excuse for a shorts those were, furious if anyone has ever gotten to see you like this.

You're sitting up on the couch now, legs spread so he sees just a hint of your perfect pussy that lace was hugging, his throat goes dry when you hand him the controller. He smiles with ease, sitting on the floor, hoisting your thighs around his shoulders then, and you pause, faltering just a bit, breath caught in your throat. It should be casual. You two have gamed close forever, but he's so close to your heat, your thighs brushing against his hot skin. Just a white tank top and your shorts separating you both.

"You blushed really hard when I mentioned Sylus huh?" He asks now, as he moves the controllers, and you gulp just a bit, fidgeting some.

"No... imagining things."

"You think he's hot."

You roll your eyes at him, shifting forward as you tilt the controller, slashing your sword and concentrating, the tips of your toes touching his lap. Just that is enough to make Caleb ache and throb, hard cock pulsing, he bites back a moan, you seem too entrapped in the game to notice what your foot is brushing on.

"He's hot, sure. Why, do you... find anyone hot?" Caleb glares down at the controller now.

"Just one girl." You bite your lip, concentrated fully, as he rests a head on your thigh. Hot breath against it making your leg twitch, cunt already soaking. You can't feel this way, you two are just too close... right? How can you be jealous?

"Oh?" Your weak voice just makes Caleb's cock leak precum, he can feel how hot you are behind his neck, he turns his head then, to catch you looking down at him.

"Do you care if I like someone Pip Squeak?"

"N-no..."

"Hmm... hah! Got you!" Caleb's killed your character, making you huff. Laying back some on the couch, you gasp when he turns around, face at level with your cunt, where he sees your damp spot right on your shorts. "Oh no, honey... did you spill something?"

"Huh?" You feel your body react, nipples pressing against your thin top at his proximity, vivid thoughts of far, far too many things working through your heated mind.

"Right here..." he brushes his thumb against the damp sticky arousal, eliciting a cry that makes him goddamn feral. "Can't answer me honey?"

"Caleb I'm... so sorry I..."

"This from me. Or from one of them?" His casual question is laced with something dark, pressing on the spot again, wondering just how many men he'd have to take out, so his sweet girl is all his. "Should I get these off you? Since you're making them so messy?"

"I.... y-you-" Caleb has slipped your shorts off your thighs, your tummy clenches when he clicks his tongue. Now he kisses your inner thigh, fingers running along your swollen lips, breath ghosting too close to your cunt.

"These are ruined too, tsk. Something wrong, pip squeak?" You shake your head, watching as Caleb peels those panties off you, and he has to tuck them in his pocket, thankful your eyes are shut, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. He needs a fresh pair anyway, you're too meticulous about your laundry and he doesn't get many.

The amount of times he's cum inhaling your panties, drunk off them is insane, even before he left you, when he'd visit on breaks he'd take them, licking any of you up. Sometimes he would jerk off inside them, imagining putting them on you. Making you wear them full of his load as punishment for making him so insane. But nothing prepared him for seeing your glistening cunt, clear trails breaking off, you're so wet you were stuck to those lacy panties clearly.

"Caleb-ah!" He laps you up now, just a stripe up your slit, making your hands entangle in sof thrown hair, as those deep violet eyes look up at you. Dilated, insane, a smirk on his lips.

"Tell me none of them tasted you. Had you."

"What do you mean-"

"Tell me no one touched what's mine."

"You've been gone a long time... you think I just what, wait here, touch myself?" You're shaking as you speak.

"Do you?" You hesitate. "Answer me. Maybe I'll let you cum."

"Let me?" He presses a kiss on your clit now parting your folds and groaning as arousal pools out of your little hole. "Mnh. Fuck... what are we..."

"Am I competing? I'm very competitive you know, pip squeak. I will have to make you forget anything but me then." That's when he spreads your pretty pussy, moaning, he's seen you of course before here and there, glimpses of you naked, but now your perfect cunt is right in his face. He's burying his face against you, nose hitting that clit as his tongue swipes in.

"Oh my god." You shouldn't be like this, you shouldn't be spreading your thighs wider, letting him fuck his tongue in and out of your slick, gummy walls, the noises of his soft whines and slurps echoing in your apartment. His taste buds explore every each that long tongue can reach, you're losing it every moment, those eyes so dark with lust they look black.

He'll make you forget anything.

"That's it, you wanna cum f'me, huh? Pretty girl, all mine." You're struggling to compute his words, to even function, eyes rolling back when he flicks the tip of his tongue on that clit, smile not hitting his insane yes. "Are you?"

"This is crazy, what are we doing... you... I... ngh!" Two fingers slip right inside your hole now, which flutters around the thick, long digits, making your whines even louder as he leans up, his other hand gripping you by your throat, lips so close.

How have you not kissed but he's devoured your pussy?

"You belong to me, only me, can you not see? All this time..." He's desperately scissoring fingers in and out, lashes low over his eyes as he breathes against your bitten lips. "Oh listen, she can talk for you I guess, so slutty for me. Just me, huh?"

You're just arching your hips, a sweet cry from your lips, ones he can imagine wrapped around his cock, while he squeezes your delicate neck harder, hand overtaking your throat. You can merely whimper in response, nodding just a bit, as you're closer and closer, only for him to yank his fingers out, making you whine, aching to be filled by them again.

"Caleb, please." You're crying now, tears running down your cheeks, making you look so fucking pretty to him, igniting something that snaps as he watches them fall glistening down your face.

"Please what, ya need something?" He's squeezing harder, fingers brushing around your soaking entrance, just barely pressing the tip of his finger inside, while you're pressed back against the couch, breasts heaving. "Tell me what you need, don't you know I'll take care of you?"

"In me. Please- ah!" You're getting fuzzy when he slips those long fingers back in your cunt, exhaling as he watches you, curling them just so with filthy squelching noises echoing. "Mnh!"

"This all f'me, huh? All me?" His demanding question barely resonates when you're cumming all over his fingers now, pulsing and gushing, while your own hand grips his thin white tank, pulling him closer. Your eyes roll back, he watches you avidly, every fucking expression while he feels you pulsing on his digits. "You didn't answer me, pretty, that won't do."

He pouts when he pulls his fingers out again, releasing your throat right before you nearly faint, cunt still pulsing. You try to gather yourself, when he's slipping those fingers in his mouth, moaning while he sucks all your arousal off them. He's ripped your top off, moaning as he sees your tits gently bounce out, his own dog tags dangling right between the two of them.

"Look who's right by your heart, hmm?" He presses the cool metal to your lips now, prompting you to kiss them, as he smiles so sweetly, like he hadn't just fucked your head up and tripped you. "Do you wear this every day?"

"Yes."

"Every night?"

"Yes." Your answer ends him, when he picks you up like you're nothing, dragging you right to the plush, soft rug beneath you both, hovering over you, his new tags dangling, as your fingers slip up over his strong chest, his eyes glinting with something you can't quite describe, the situation overwhelming your senses.

"I need to take better care of you, if you feel you need all these 'friends' then I'm not doing my job. I should be more than enough for you." He's leaned up, pulling up his shirt just a bit, revealing rippling abs that you've looked at far too often. "Is that it, I didn't take care of you good enough?"

"No, Caleb you always take care of me. I just... we..." Your thoughts trail off when he's slipped down his sweats, and you see his cock, so long and thick you're unsure you could take it, already oozing precum out of his reddened tip.

"Cat got your tongue, pip squeak? Keep talking, I'm listening, I always listen don't I?" He's leaned over you with one strong arm, yanking your thighs apart further, when you feel his length against your inner thigh, hot and heavy, precum sticking to you, as he cups your face so gently. "I'll listen to every moan, every whisper, so I learn everything your pretty, perfect body likes."

"Oh my god." He's brushing his tip against your engorged clit now, smiling down at you, at how pretty you are on this rug beneath him, your lashes fluttering.

"You work too hard, you need to be massaged everywhere. How could I not see this?" He's shoved his cock so deep inside you then you scream out, and he moans, feeling the stretch, of so many fucking inches. "Look how greedy, she's trying to take him all. Ahh, did you miss me this much?"

You're unable to respond to anything when he's shoved his cock so deep you're stuffed full, whimpering out as your walls struggle to stretch for him, and he's just a breath over you, lips drinking up yours then, finally kissing you after so long, before he is pulling back and shoving so deep he hits your cervix. You're sobbing it feels so fucking good, all while he can't rip his eyes off your face, the dark violet depths swirling.

"Waited so long for this, god don't you know?" He's mumbling now, lost in you, pulling back and smirking as he watches it, his lengthy cock getting sucked inside your too small hole, and the bulge in your tummy. "Look, I hit so fucking deep, don't I?" He grips your chin, shoving your head down so you see it, blushing furious.

"I... that's... s-so big I..." He's moaning as he watches it, his cock making that bulge as he goes achingly slow.

"Look at me fill you, fuck I should keep filling you too, until you can't even think. I need your brain shut off, and focused on me, yeah?" You're already fucked out and stupid, you can only stare at the bulge and blush, when he thrusts his hips with a snap, having you drooling all over his cock. "Can't think of other men now, can you?"

You can't think of a fucking thing, including what's happening, as Caleb begins fucking you harder, faster, delicately kissing your lips like he's making love, as his heavy balls slap your ass with every single filthy fucking thrust. He's whispering your name, until he's got you firm in a mating press, spitting down right on your clit and moaning at the sight.

Folded in half, god you feel so small under him, while his babbling hits your incoherent brain, the lewd slapping of his skin and how wet you are filling the living room. "Only me, I need it to only be me, me inside you, me everywhere."

"Caleb- you... f-fuck!" He's cupping your face as he folds you in that mating press, grinning feral, something unleashed that's damn near scary, but you just want more, nails pressing crescent moons against his biceps.

"Only me. Only me. Mine. Mine. Mine." He's huffing those words as you cum all around his cock, pausing him briefly, feeling your aftershocks grip him, your cunt so messy she's dripping down his balls, down to the rug, making the sounds even louder, the squishing and clicking. "I know, honey, I know, you want me to cum inside, huh?"

"Please. Please." He's smiling, you're being so good for him, and who is he to ever deny his pretty girl anything.

"I'll give you anythign you ask for, don't worry. I'll fill you so good, so, so good, yeah- ha fuck you- ah..." He's stuttering now, faster and harder, his eyes flashing then. "Only me, say it."

"Only y-you... ah- ngh!" You're screaming when he's fucking you so hard it hurts, leaned up to press the backs of your thighs.

"That's it, gonna forget them all, aren't you? Anyone."

"F-forget." Your weak response lets him lose his mind, big hands bruising, his dog tags swinging against your face when he pounds your cunt so hard, cumming so much, with his head thrown back, groaning so loud until it turns into a weak cry, as his hot gooey load coats your pussy everywhere.

"That's it, fuckin perfect pussy, God my good girl, aren't you? Taking me so well." He's murmuring, easing as you're cumming just from him coating your walls, he lets your thighs fall, moaning and kissing you, desperate and hungry. "You alright, pip squeak? Was it too much?"

"It was a lot I..." He's laughing now, softly, pulling back and out, watching the mess of creamy cum pouring down all over, groaning at the sight, you flush as you look down, seeing it all.

"You could have told me you needed more, don't you know how long I've waited for this? I wanted to be your first though, honey, tsk..." He's fingering the cum, making you jerk, so sensitive now, his lips quirking up. "Know how many times I've stroked it? Picturing just this, filling you up?"

"Y-you did?" He's shoving that cum deep, you grip his wrist, gasping now. "Caleb!"

"You're wasting it, that just won't do, I need you to be a good girl." His husky whisper along with those rough fingers makes you cry out.

"Sensitive!"

"You can take more, can't you?" He's shoving cum back in your eager whole, moaning at the sight, his cock already standing back at attention. "I think I know what I need to do, so you never call any of these 'friends' again."

"What?" Your eyes roll back when he's curling his fingers again, hovering over you and grinning, his toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"I'll keep filling you, until you're dripping me constantly." Caleb's got you in your bed next, lapping his own cum right out of your cunt, taste buds dragging in every flavor of the two of you, having you cum over and over, until you're stupid. "Look, so fucked out, aww. You're drooling pip squeak, lemme get that."

He's swiping at your chin, before he's sucking your clit in his mouth again, and you're losing sense of everything, he's fucking you again, bent over, then again, on your stomach, so many loads inside you you're bloated and full, too full. You pass out on him soon, he sighs as he looks at you, so pretty as always in your sleep.

"Ah, pip squeak, we'll have to work on that stamina." He's cleaned you all up, putting your favorite pajamas on you, while you're lightly snoring, clearly he'd been a little too much.

Caleb had waited for years and years after all, for just this moment.

"Sweet dreams, my love. Future wife." He's laughing softly, you don't know just all his plans yet. He goes towards the kitchen to down some water, still naked in your apartment, cock gently swaying when he grabs his sweats, your panties still tucked in his pocket. He slips them on, frowning as he sees your phone light up, texts from Zayne and Sylus.

That just won't do.

He unlocks your phone with ease, it's his birthday of course, you love him even if you don't know how much yet. No worries. Caleb deletes every contact and message, keeping only him, because that's all you'll need now! You won't even be in this apartment soon, he can already picture you at his place, constantly having his babies.

He smiles as he holds you against him that night, but even after fucking you so deep, so much, just seeing you sleeping makes him hard again, and he has to stroke his aching cock just looking at you, waiting for you to wake up.

lmk if you want more Caleb and his freaky ass lol <3

tags- @ember-stars @luvleixo @sickleddreamer @ravenbc @honeymoonfleur @mcdepressed290 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @valleydoli perm- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty

[iraot]

Warnings: M/M intimacy, tooth rotting fluff?, rough sex, knotting, abo dynamics, p in v sex, p in a sex, oral sex, throuple, power dynamics?, play, hair mentioned i think, Pairing: Alpha Zayne x Omega F!reader x Alpha Caleb A/N: this is the last OFFICIAL part of my ABO series, at least until the sixth LI comes out. I am taking drabble requests for any of the relationships so feel free to shoot me a DM and I'll get to it as soon as I can! :3 If you also just wanna yap hit me up too! I'm a chronic yapper. A03

𝟙𝟝 𝕐𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝔾𝕆 The summer sun was beginning its lazy descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet as the three of them raced through the field behind Linkon University’s faculty housing, where their families worked. The rampantly growing wildflowers swayed in the evening breeze, the scent of earth and grass filling the air as laughter rang out between them.

Caleb was the fastest, always the first to dart ahead, feet barely touching the ground as he bolted through the field. His dark brown hair was a wild mess, violet eyes bright with excitement as he whooped and called over his shoulder, “Come on, slowpokes! Last one to the tree has to carry the backpacks home!”

She groaned dramatically but pushed forward, her legs burning as she tried to keep up. She wasn’t as wild as Caleb, but she had her own brand of playful competitiveness. “Not fair! You took off before we even started counting!”

Zayne, as always, was more calculated in his approach. He didn’t immediately rush in after Caleb but instead gauged the distance, the lay of the ground, the way his two best friends moved. With a quiet, knowing smirk, he adjusted his pace, waiting for the right moment to surge ahead. “You should know by now that Caleb doesn’t play fair,” he murmured as he passed her, his black hair catching the last of the sunlight.

She huffed, trying not to grin. “And you’re still letting him get away with it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Just as Caleb was about to reach the massive oak tree that marked their usual finish line, Zayne suddenly veered to the right, cutting through the tall grass. Caleb was too caught up in his own momentum to notice until the last second—when Zayne stretched out a hand and tagged the tree first.

“What—? You cheated!” Caleb gaped, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Zayne simply leaned against the bark, arms crossed, utterly unbothered. “I played smart.”

She reached the tree a few seconds later, panting but laughing. “Guess that means Caleb’s carrying the backpacks.”

Caleb groaned, falling onto his back with an exaggerated sigh. “You two always gang up on me.”

“We wouldn’t have to if you weren’t always running off,” Zayne pointed out, nudging him with his foot.

She plopped down beside Caleb, staring up at the sky with a contented sigh. “One day, we’ll probably have to start acting our age. Be all proper and responsible.”

Caleb turned his head to look at her, grinning. “Not happening. I’ll make sure of it.”

Zayne shook his head, but there was fondness in his gaze as he sat beside them. “At the very least, I’ll make sure neither of you get into too much trouble.”

She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “So, what’s the verdict? Backpacks?”

Caleb groaned again but grabbed one of the bags with a dramatic flourish. “Fine. But only because I’m gracious in defeat.”

She and Zayne exchanged an amused glance before gathering the rest of their things, the three of them falling into an easy rhythm as they made their way home. Even then, before their designations, before their world became infinitely more complicated, they had been something unshakable—three parts of a whole, bound together in a way none of them could fully put into words.

Not yet, anyway.

PRESENT The change in the air was subtle at first—just a shift, something quiet, creeping beneath the surface like a storm waiting to break. But then it thickened, coiled, twisted into something heavy and undeniable, something that seeped into the walls, the sheets, their skin. It was a slow, smoldering burn, creeping into their bones, filling every breath with something sharp, something deep.

Zayne felt it like a pulse beneath his skin, a slow ache spreading through his veins, settling low in his gut, curling tight around the heavy weight of his cock where it lay against his thigh. He exhaled through his nose, trying to stay steady, but even that was a fucking struggle. His body was already turning against him, heat building behind his eyes, muscles going taut, coiling in anticipation. He wasn’t in rut yet, not fully, but it was coming. He could feel it.

Caleb was worse off.

The other Alpha was already shifting where he sat, restless, his hands twitching before curling into fists against the edge of the mattress like he was trying to tether himself. But restraint wasn’t in Caleb’s nature. Never had been. His body knew what it wanted, and it wanted now. It was evident in the way he pressed up against Zayne, broad chest to chest, his scent thick with rut, flooding the space around them. His lips curled, sharp, wicked, as he rolled his hips down in a slow, deliberate grind, dragging against Zayne’s cock just to watch the way his throat bobbed with the effort of restraint.

“Fuck, you’re already holding back?” Caleb murmured, voice rough, teasing, layered with heat that he wasn’t even pretending to hide. His breath ghosted against Zayne’s jaw, lips so fucking close but not touching, not yet, just enough to make it worse.

Zayne let out a low, guttural sound, more growl than breath, his hand snapping up to grip the back of Caleb’s neck, fingers flexing against sweat-damp skin. “We don’t need to do this,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

Caleb huffed out a sharp breath, biting down on his lower lip, dragging it between his teeth before releasing it with a quiet, breathy laugh. He rocked his hips again, grinding down, the friction sending a sharp, burning heat through both of them. “That’s cute,” he rasped. “Like you’re not already fucking soaked in scent.”

Zayne clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched at the words, the way his body ached for more, craved it, demanded it. Caleb was right—he fucking reeked of rut, the deep, dark spice of it thick in the air, mixing with Caleb’s scent in a way that was fucking dizzying, overwhelming. It curled around them both, binding them together in the worst best way.

Caleb didn’t wait for an answer. He surged forward, closing the space between them, capturing Zayne’s mouth in a kiss that was all heat and teeth, hungry, restless. Zayne let him, let Caleb take, let him press him down against the mattress, let his hands slide down his back, gripping muscle, feeling the way Caleb trembled under his fingers.

The rut hadn’t hit full force yet, but fuck, it was close.

And this—this wasn’t going to be enough.

Zayne barely remembered how they got here, barely remembered shoving off their clothes, the frantic, desperate way their hands tore at fabric, the way Caleb’s nails dug into his shoulders, dragging down his back, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. But now, Caleb was beneath him, panting, gasping, his face buried in the sheets as Zayne pressed into him, his cock stretching Caleb open, filling him, dragging against the tight, slick heat of him inch by inch.

Caleb shuddered beneath him, his breath catching on a moan, his hands fisting the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white. “Fuck,” he gasped, voice wrecked, body burning, back arching as he tried to push back, to take more, to take all of it.

Zayne gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the sharp curve of Caleb’s hips, holding him still as he sank deeper, forcing himself to go slow, to drag it out. He wanted to wreck him, to pound him into the mattress until neither of them could fucking breathe, but he knew Caleb—knew the way he liked it, knew the way his body craved the stretch, the ache, the feeling of being taken apart, piece by fucking piece.

The sounds Caleb made—broken, breathless little noises, gasps and moans and desperate little whimpers—sent heat ripping through Zayne’s spine, curling low in his gut, tightening around his cock like a vice. “Fuck,” Zayne grunted, forehead dropping to the sweat-slick expanse of Caleb’s back, his breath coming in ragged, heavy pulls. “You’re—fucking squeezing me.”

Caleb let out a rough, choking sound, body trembling, shuddering around him. “Maybe—” he sucked in a sharp breath, shivering as Zayne pulled back, dragging his cock against the slick, swollen clutch of his body before pressing back in, slow, deep, almost mean. “Maybe I don’t—wanna let you go.”

Zayne groaned, his hips snapping forward, his restraint fraying, shattering. His thrusts picked up, deeper, harder, grinding into him, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Caleb sobbed out a sound, arching, his hands clawing at the sheets, his body tightening, locking down around him.

It was too much.

Zayne growled, deep and primal, his knot swelling, locking them together, forcing him deep, keeping him buried inside. Caleb gasped, his whole body jerking, tensing, his muscles twitching under Zayne’s hands, his breath coming in sharp, uneven little moans.

Zayne let out a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead to the back of Caleb’s neck, his lips dragging along sweat-damp skin. His hands smoothed down Caleb’s sides, feeling every tremor, every little aftershock still working through him. The scent of rut was still thick in the air, suffocating, clinging to the sheets, to their skin.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, twitching through the last tremors of it, their bodies spent, their muscles locked, shaking.

Zayne’s head snapped up.

The apartment wasn’t silent.

A noise.

Faint.

Something breathy. Unsteady.

Caleb stirred beneath him. “You hear that?”

Zayne’s gut twisted, instincts locking onto something new, something dangerous. His world had been narrowed to Caleb for hours, but now—now that the haze was ebbing, another scent was creeping in, something sweet, thick, suffocating.

Omega. Not just any Omega. Her.

Zayne was moving before he had even fully untied from Caleb, instincts screaming, body demanding action. Caleb cursed behind him, barely managing to catch himself as Zayne pulled free, the knot finally giving way. He groaned, rolling onto his back, but his expression shifted the second he inhaled deep.

“Shit,” Caleb muttered, already moving. “That’s—”

Neither of them wasted time. A quick rinse, scrubbing the worst of their rut from their skin, before shoving on loose clothes, still radiating Alpha heat as they stalked into the hallway.

The scent hit them full-force in the living room.

She was there, curled on the floor, trembling, fingers twitching against the oversized fabric of her hoodie. Her scent was thick, pouring off her in waves, her heat pressing against every inch of the apartment like a fucking siren’s call.

Fuck.

She wasn’t supposed to go into heat for another few weeks.

Caleb exhaled sharply, glancing at Zayne, his violet eyes still dark with leftover rut. “Well,” he muttered, voice tight. “That’s a fucking problem.”

She whimpered when Zayne lifted her, fingers clutching weakly at his hoodie, her heat scent clinging to his skin like a plea. Zayne clenched his jaw. Caleb’s lips pressed into a thin line.

The scent was overwhelming now, worse than before–worse now that she was in their arms–the slick-sweet haze of her heat wrapping around them, sinking into their lungs. She had just been in heat last month. There shouldn’t have been a reason for her to go into heat for several months, but with two Alphas coming into rut at the same time; well, the odds weren’t in her favor.

Zayne exhaled slowly through his nose, tightening his grip around her as he stepped into her room. The space was warm, the air thick with her scent, but what caught his attention was the bed—the carefully arranged pile of blankets, pillows, soft things she'd unconsciously gathered over the past few days. 

A nest. 

Her nest.

He hadn’t noticed. Neither of them had.

“Fuck,” Caleb muttered under his breath.

Zayne carefully knelt, setting her down at the center of the nest. She let out a breathy sound, rubbing her cheek against the soft fabric, her body instinctively curling into the space she had made for herself. But when he tried to pull back, her hand shot out, clumsy and shaking, grabbing at his wrist.

Her eyes cracked open—barely focused, pupils blown wide. “Don’t—” her voice was small, raw, “don’t leave.”

Zayne swallowed hard.

Caleb ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling sharply. “Shit.” He dropped to his knees beside the nest, watching as she tried to reach for them again, her body moving on instinct, seeking their warmth, their scent.

Because they did this.

She whined again, softer this time, her fingers flexing weakly as they curled into Zayne’s hoodie. Her scent pulsed in the air—sweet, thick, drowning them in it. It was impossible to ignore, seeping into their skin, into their bones.

Zayne forced himself to breathe slowly, carefully, even as every part of him wanted to sink into her scent, press closer, give her whatever she was begging for.

She didn’t understand what she was asking. Not yet.

Caleb let out a sharp breath beside him, rubbing the back of his neck like it might help clear his head. It wouldn’t. Not with her lying there, heat-flushed and trembling, pupils blown wide as she looked at them.

“Fuck,” Caleb muttered under his breath. He was staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Then he dragged a hand down his face and sat back on his heels, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “We—shit, we did this to her.”

Zayne swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He knew. The second he smelled her, he knew. Their ruts had thrown her cycle off-balance, pulled her into heat too soon. Her body reacted to them.

Her heat was because of them.

Zayne’s jaw ticked as he reached down, smoothing his palm over the sweat-damp skin of her arm. “We didn’t mean to,” he said, voice low, rough. It felt like a weak excuse.

Caleb huffed out a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t change shit, does it?”

She whimpered softly, shifting in the nest, her thighs rubbing together, seeking friction that wouldn’t satisfy her. The motion sent another wave of scent through the air, and Zayne felt his stomach clench.

Fuck.

Caleb’s whole body went tense beside him. He dragged in a shaky breath, then shoved himself away, back hitting the wall. He tilted his head up, staring at the ceiling like that would help anything.

“This is bad,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “Really, really fucking bad.”

She whimpered again, eyes fluttering open, hazy and unfocused. “Please,” she breathed, fingers twitching toward them.

The sound of her voice sent something deep and primal rolling through Zayne’s chest. His Omega. The thought shouldn’t be there, but it was. Her heat was crying for them, her instincts pulling her toward them. She wanted—needed—

Zayne gritted his teeth. No. She didn’t need them like that. Not when she was like this.

He exhaled through his nose, sharp and controlled. Focus.

She shifted again, her body aching for warmth, for touch. “Too hot,” she mumbled, voice thin. She tugged weakly at her hoodie, but her fingers were uncoordinated, trembling. Her heat was draining her strength fast. Too fast.

Zayne moved before thinking, reaching out to help. But the second his fingers brushed the fabric, she made a sound. A breathy, helpless little whimper.

His vision went red for half a second.

Caleb swore.

“Zayne,” he warned.

Zayne’s breathing was too slow, too careful. His muscles coiled under his skin, his entire body wired tight with restraint. He could feel her heat in his palm, radiating through the hoodie, sinking into him. So soft. So warm. So—

He pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

Caleb exhaled hard. He was watching, eyes dark, knowing. “That close?” he murmured.

Zayne clenched his jaw. “Shut the fuck up.”

Caleb didn’t push, which meant he wasn’t any better.

The room was silent except for her soft, needy breaths. Zayne could feel the way she was still reaching for them, the way her body was practically singing for them to come closer. His instincts screamed at him to do exactly that.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done—not touching her.

Caleb let his head drop back against the wall again, breathing in slow, measured drags. “We can’t leave her alone like this.”

Zayne exhaled sharply. “I know.”

“She’s not gonna last long like this, man.” Caleb’s voice was quieter now, but just as strained. “She’s already burning up.”

Zayne looked at her. Her skin was flushed, her lips slightly parted as she panted through the heat pulsing through her body. She needed them. But not like this.

Not like this.

His stomach twisted.

Caleb ran a hand down his face. “I hate this.”

Zayne did too. Every instinct in him wanted to take care of her, to fix this, but fixing it meant crossing a line neither of them were willing to cross.

Instead, he reached for the blankets in her nest, pulling them up around her, tucking them in close, careful not to let his fingers brush her skin again.

She sighed at the warmth, curling deeper into the soft fabric, murmuring something under her breath that neither of them could make out.

Caleb let out a slow breath. “So, what the fuck do we do?”

Zayne stared down at her for a long moment, watching the way her fingers curled weakly around the edge of the blanket, the way her lashes fluttered as she fought against the haze.

“Stay,” he said simply.

Caleb’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue.

Because as wrong as this situation was, leaving her like this would be worse.

So they stayed.

They stayed.

Time crawled.

Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours.

They stayed.

At first, they’d kept their distance—one on either side of her nest, unmoving, watching her carefully, speaking only when necessary. They kept their hands to themselves. They kept their instincts leashed.

It wasn’t enough.

She was getting worse.

Her breaths were coming too fast now, shallow and desperate. Sweat slicked her skin, dampened her clothes, leaving her overheated, burning alive. She twisted restlessly in her nest, whimpering in pain more than need now. Her body was fighting itself, spiraling deeper into heat at a rate neither of them had ever seen before.

Zayne felt his stomach clench.

“Fuck,” Caleb whispered hoarsely, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This—this isn’t normal, man.”

Zayne’s jaw ticked. “I know.”

They both knew.

This wasn’t like last time. Last time, she’d had a warning. Time to prepare, to take suppressants if she wanted, to lock herself away and ride it out at her pace. This? This was something else.

Her body hadn’t been ready for heat. It had been thrown into it, dragged under like a drowning animal, and it was killing her.

She let out a weak whimper, barely able to move now. Her eyes cracked open—dazed, unfocused.

She didn’t even recognize them anymore.

That was it. That was the line.

Zayne and Caleb locked eyes.

Neither of them spoke at first. They didn’t have to.

They both knew what the other was thinking.

Zayne swallowed, his throat dry. “She’s not gonna make it through this alone.”

Caleb’s face was tight, his whole body rigid. “I know.”

Another whimper from the nest—softer this time, weaker. Her fingers barely twitched where they were curled into the blanket, as if she were trying to reach for something she couldn’t even see anymore.

Zayne clenched his jaw.

Caleb exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for half a second before opening them again. “She’s gonna hate us for this.”

Zayne nodded, a sharp, decisive motion. “Probably.”

Caleb swallowed, his throat working. He hesitated, then exhaled. “I’d rather have her alive and pissed at me than—” His voice caught. He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

Zayne inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the thick, sweetened haze of her heat. His instincts roared, ready, waiting. But his mind was still steady, still clear.

“We do this right,” he said roughly. “Slow. Careful. No claiming.”

Caleb’s nostrils flared, but he nodded.

There was no more debate after that.

The first thing they did was slow her down.

She was panting now, her body trembling violently in her nest, her skin slick with sweat. The fever was burning through her too fast, too hard. She needed more than just their touch—she needed care.

Caleb was already moving, his fingers deft as he reached for the water bottle on her bedside table. He cracked the cap open, shifting closer to where she lay tangled in blankets, barely lucid.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough but softer now. He reached for her, cupping the back of her head gently, lifting her just enough to press the bottle to her lips. “Drink for me, yeah?”

She whimpered at the contact, her hands weakly grasping at the front of his shirt. She tried to press herself into him, into his heat, his scent, but he held her steady.

“Not yet,” Caleb murmured, his voice soothing. “C’mon, baby, need you to drink first.”

Her lips parted obediently when he tilted the bottle, and she took slow uneven sips, swallowing between shallow breaths.

Zayne watched, his body tight, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could smell her exhaustion, her frustration. She was running on nothing but need now, instincts taking over, seeking, reaching—pleading.

His gut twisted. She shouldn’t have to beg.

The second Caleb pulled the bottle away, her hands were moving again, small and clumsy, reaching out, seeking them.

Zayne exhaled slowly, leaning down, his palm finally finding the curve of her thigh. She shivered under his touch, a choked sound leaving her lips.

“Easy,” he murmured, fingers stroking slow, measured paths up the length of her thigh, easing her open. “We’ve got you.”

Her breath hitched.

Zayne’s palm dragged higher, so slow, so careful, skimming over damp heated skin. His fingers spread, grazing, teasing, preparing.

Her whole body reacted.

Caleb chuckled, rough and breathless. “That’s what you wanted, huh, sweetheart?”

She whimpered.

Zayne’s gaze flicked up, meeting Caleb’s over the curve of her body. They had her. She was theirs.

Caleb exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before shifting back down to her. He ran his knuckles along her flushed cheek, his mouth quirking into something almost fond.

“She’s desperate for it,” Caleb murmured.

Zayne hummed. “She’s gonna get it.”

And then he kissed her.

Soft. Slow. Lazy.

Not rushed, not greedy, not taking. Just giving.

Her whimper turned into a shuddering moan against his lips, her body arching into him, for him, melting beneath his hands as he prepared her, opening her up.

Caleb pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering, “We’ve got you, baby. We’ve got you.”

Zayne settled between her thighs, a wall of heat and muscle, pressing her down into the soft tangled mess of blankets beneath them. His body was solid, heavy, unyielding, the sheer size of him a reminder that she was completely at his mercy. She was so small beneath him, so soft, so pliant—her body trembling with exhaustion but still moving, still seeking, still aching for more. The fevered flush of her skin burned against his, sweat-slicked and desperate, her scent thick enough to drown him, coating his tongue, clinging to his lungs. It made his head swim, made his muscles coil tight with the effort of restraint, made his cock throb where it lay heavy between them.

Even now, wrecked and ruined, she was still trying to move, her hips rolling weakly, a slow, pitiful grind against the underside of his length. She was struggling, her body too far gone to manage anything more than pleading little movements, rubbing against him, seeking relief, lost to the hunger of her own heat. She didn’t have to fight for it. She didn’t have to beg.

Zayne had her.

His hands traced over her body, slow, steady, dragging heat in their wake as they mapped over every inch of flushed, fevered skin. He spread her open with easy, effortless strength, holding her still, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. His thumbs pressed into the soft dip of her hips, his fingers gripping the curve of her thighs, steadying her. She was so wet—pulsing, dripping, her slick coating his fingers, her body already preparing itself for him.

For him.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through his ribs, sinking deep into the space between them.

She whimpered at the sound, an immediate, instinctive reaction, her body going tense before shuddering apart again, thighs twitching like she wanted to wrap them around his waist, to pull him closer, to lock him in. She was burning up, feverish, overwhelmed, but she still wanted to. Still needed.

Zayne exhaled sharply, dragging his cock through her soaked folds, coating himself in the mess of her slick, feeling the way her body quivered at the contact. The heat of her, the sheer wetness, the way she clenched around nothing—it nearly undid him. His muscles went rigid, his fingers flexing against her skin, restraint hanging by a thread, fraying with every shuddered breath.

“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick, hoarse with the weight of his need. He let the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, push, press, tease—just enough to make her gasp, just enough to make her squirm—but not enough to give her what she needed. Not yet.

“This what you needed?”

She made a choked, needy sound, her fingers twitching against his biceps, nails barely scratching at his skin, useless and weak but still trying.

Zayne chuckled, low and lazy, but there was something dark beneath it, something possessive, something just a little cruel.

“Gonna take care of you,” he murmured, soothing, promising. “Gonna give you exactly what you need.”

And then he pushed in.

Her gasp broke into a moan, her back arching, her body tightening around him, sucking him in, taking him.

Zayne’s jaw clenched, a growl catching in his throat as he forced himself to go slow, to keep himself steady. She was so fucking wet, her body made to take him, welcoming him, milking him—but she was tight, too tight, scorching around him, squeezing down like she wanted to keep him there forever. His fingers dug into the softness of her thighs, spreading her wider, holding her open, watching the way her face twisted, overwhelmed, undone, lost in the feeling of him.

“That’s it,” he praised, voice rough, gravel-thick. “Takin’ me so well, baby. Fuck.”

She whined, a high, broken sound, her legs finally locking around his waist, ankles hooking behind him, desperate to keep him close, to keep him inside.

As if he was ever going to leave.

Zayne exhaled harshly, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing her in, drowning in her scent. His hips rolled, deep, slow, dragging the full length of him inside her inch by inch, stretching her open, filling her until there was nowhere left to go, until he was buried to the hilt, locked in place by the clutch of her body.

She pulsed around him, clenching, gripping, desperate.

He groaned, his hands dragging up her waist, feeling the way she trembled beneath him, barely able to hold herself together.

“You needed this bad, huh?” he murmured against her ear, his lips brushing her overheated skin, his voice dripping with amusement, with affection.

She whimpered, nodding weakly, helpless.

Zayne’s lips curled.

He pulled back, the thick drag of his cock against her swollen walls making her gasp, before thrusting back in—slow, deep, perfect.

Her whole body shuddered.

From his place at the edge of the nest, Caleb let out a sharp breath, barely more than a muttered, “Shit.”

Zayne ignored him. His focus was on her. Only her.

His rhythm was unhurried, deliberate, every thrust measured, controlled, every roll of his hips drawing a fresh gasp from her throat, a fresh clench of her body around him. Her fingers clung to his back, weak and trembling, like she was afraid he’d pull away, like she was afraid she’d wake up and find herself alone, still aching, still empty.

“That’s it,” Zayne murmured, voice rough, full of praise. His hand slid up, cupping her jaw, tilting her face up, forcing her dazed, heat-fogged eyes to meet his. “Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

She moaned, nodding, lips parting like she wanted to answer, but only breathless sounds escaped.

He shushed her, thumb dragging slow over her cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”

His thrusts picked up, deeper, stronger, pushing her higher, pulling her apart.

Her body reacted instantly, her back bowing, her legs squeezing tighter, her cries turning sharper, higher, desperate.

Zayne gritted his teeth, feeling the way she clenched around him, taking him, milking him, her body pulling him in, demanding more. His knot was swelling, stretching, locking him in, binding them together.

She sobbed out a sound, her body tensing, shaking apart beneath him.

Zayne groaned, his lips finding her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “Almost there, baby,” he murmured against her skin. “Gonna lock you down, keep you so full—”

She cried out, breaking.

Zayne felt it—the way she clenched, trembled, shattered around him, her body spasming with pleasure, dragging him down with her.

It tipped him over the edge, his knot swelling fully, locking them together, forcing him deeper.

He growled, deep and satisfied, pressing her down, keeping her still as he spilled inside her, filling her, marking her in the way her body demanded.

His forehead dropped to hers, his breath ragged.

She whimpered, soft, spent, perfect.

Zayne stroked her cheek, his fingers slow, soothing, grounding. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Caleb let out a rough exhale. “She’s still got hours left, man.”

Zayne lifted his head, meeting Caleb’s gaze over her trembling form.

His lips curled.

“Then we’d better take our time.”

The heat was still there, a slow, smoldering burn licking at the edges of her senses, no longer all-consuming but still refusing to fade completely. It coiled deep inside her belly, an ember rather than an inferno, waiting to be stoked back into flames with just the right touch. Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps, her body trembling with the aftershocks, the last echoes of pleasure still ghosting through her nerves. Everything felt raw, sensitive, too much and not enough all at once.

Zayne was still locked inside her, the thick swell of his knot keeping them bound together, his body a solid immovable weight pinning her to the nest. He was heavy in the best way, grounding her, the slow rise and fall of his chest pressing against hers, steady, strong. His warmth seeped into her skin, a contrast to the fever still simmering in her veins. His lips brushed lazily over her temple, the softest of touches, unhurried and absentminded, like he had all the time in the world.

And then there was Caleb.

He sat at the edge of the nest, legs crossed, forearms resting on his knees, one hand running through the mess of his dark hair, fingers gripping like he was trying to steady himself. His sharp violet eyes stayed locked on her, the intensity of his stare sending a different kind of shiver down her spine. He looked wrecked—tense, drawn too tight, like the last few hours had taken a toll on him as well. She didn’t doubt it.

“Hey,” Caleb murmured, voice low and rough, tinged with something unreadable. “You with us, sweetheart?”

She blinked, slow and dazed, the weight of their gazes anchoring her back into herself. She wasn’t floating anymore. She was here, present, body aching but mind clear enough now to think. She shifted slightly, testing, but the moment she tried to move, Zayne’s grip tightened on her waist, holding her still.

“Easy,” he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion, but there was something firm beneath it, something protective.

Her throat felt raw, dry, words catching before she could form them properly. She swallowed, tried again, her voice coming out hoarse and raspy, the edges frayed. “Did you two seriously wait until I was half-dead to do something?”

Caleb exhaled sharply, a sound between a groan and a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Zayne huffed a quiet breath against her skin, his chest shaking slightly with a low chuckle. “Yeah, she’s back.”

She tried to glare at them, but it was useless. She was still too wrung out, every muscle in her body slack and boneless, wrecked beyond measure. Instead, she just huffed out a breath and shifted again, deliberately, grinding herself against the thick stretch of Zayne’s knot, feeling the deep residual throb still pulsing inside her.

Zayne grunted, fingers digging into her hip, his breath going sharp against her temple. “You keep moving like that, sweetheart, and we’re gonna have a real problem.”

A slow smirk curled across her lips, lazy and teasing. “Maybe I like causing problems.”

Caleb let out a strangled noise, something that sounded dangerously close to actual pain. “Can we not do this right now? Jesus.”

She turned her head slightly, blinking up at him, feigning innocence. “What, jealous?”

Caleb’s jaw clenched, his violet eyes flashing dark with something sharp, something hot. He rolled his eyes, but it was too late—she’d already seen it, already caught the way his fingers twitched where they rested against his knee, like he was fighting the instinct to reach for her.

Zayne chuckled, voice low and rough, full of amusement. “She’s still a menace. Good to know heat doesn’t change that.”

She huffed, shifting again just to test, just to push, just to see how far she could take it. The answering growl that rumbled through Zayne’s chest sent a shiver through her spine.

“You guys gonna help me or what?” she muttered, tilting her chin up defiantly.

Caleb inhaled sharply through his nose, visibly reining himself in before shaking his head. “Not until you drink more water and eat something.”

She groaned, loud and dramatic, throwing her head back against the pillows. “Oh my god, I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb muttered, already reaching for the bottle of water nearby. “You’re not dripping slick out of thin air, princess. You’re gonna dehydrate if we don’t take care of you.”

Zayne’s breath was warm against her ear, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. “See? Bossy little shit.”

Caleb made an annoyed sound before promptly throwing a vitamin packet at Zayne’s head.

Zayne caught it effortlessly with one hand, not even bothering to lift his head.

“Fuck both of you,” Caleb muttered under his breath before tearing open a protein bar, breaking off a piece, and holding it out toward her. “Eat, now.”

She groaned again but took the food, chewing slowly. The burn in her veins hadn’t faded, hadn’t cooled, but the food helped ground her, settled something deep in her gut, something instinctual.

Caleb watched her carefully, eyes tracking her every movement, every little twitch of exhaustion, his expression unreadable. He was always like that, always noticing everything, always seeing too much.

“You scared the shit out of us,” he muttered, quieter now.

Her chewing slowed.

Zayne’s fingers traced slow, absent patterns over her hip, soothing, steady. “Your body wasn’t ready for this heat,” he murmured. “We knew it wasn’t normal, but we didn’t know how bad it was gonna get.”

She swallowed, finally looking at them—really looking.

Caleb exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze darting away for the first time. “We weren’t gonna do anything, you know.” His voice was rough, strained. “Not without you actually saying you wanted it.”

Zayne hummed against her skin, the sound low, full of unspoken agreement. “But when you stopped recognizing us…” His grip on her hip tightened, just slightly, just enough for her to feel the way his fingers trembled. “We weren’t gonna let you suffer, sweetheart. We weren’t gonna let you—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

She knew.

Her chest tightened, something hot and aching blooming behind her ribs, pressing up into her throat.

“You guys are so fucking stupid,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, lacking its usual bite.

Caleb arched a brow, lips pressing into a flat line. “Excuse me?”

She exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to bury her face into the curve of Zayne’s neck, breathing him in. His scent was warm and familiar, something deep in her body recognizing it, settling into it, soothed by it. “Of course I wanted you to help.”

Zayne went still.

Caleb blinked, his entire body tensing.

She sighed, nuzzling closer, her voice muffled against Zayne’s skin. “Like I wouldn’t have picked you two anyway.”

The silence stretched, thick, weighted, something unspoken settling between them.

Then Caleb let out a sharp, exhausted breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Zayne huffed a low laugh, his grip on her easing, shifting, turning into something warmer, something softer. “Should’ve said something sooner, sweetheart.”

She scoffed, lips brushing against the side of his throat. “Maybe I wanted to make you work for it.”

Caleb groaned, head tipping back. “You’re literally killing me.”

She grinned. “Not yet.”

Zayne let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, his lips ghosting over her ear. “Then let’s fix that.”

The nest was still thick with the scent of heat and rut, the air charged with something heavy, almost tangible. It clung to them, settled deep in their bones, in their lungs, in the spaces between their bodies. She could feel it, the way it wrapped around her like a second skin, the way it refused to fade even as the worst of the frenzy passed.

Zayne was still inside her, still thick and locked, his cock pulsing faintly with the aftershocks of his release. Every now and then, a slow, lazy throb worked through him, making her whimper softly, body tightening instinctively in response. He smirked against her hair, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to her temple.

“Still sensitive, sweetheart?” His voice was a low murmur, thick with satisfaction, with something else—something deeper.

She wanted to snap at him, to roll her eyes, but the truth was that she was still trembling, her body wrung out but still burning, still hungry, still aching. The heat wasn’t gone. The worst of the desperation had dulled, but her body still thrummed with need, still whispered more, more, more in the back of her mind.

Caleb watched them from where he sat at the edge of the nest, jaw tight, fingers flexing where they rested on his knee. His violet eyes were darker than usual, almost black in the dim light, and she could feel the weight of his stare, could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, sharp and obvious. There was a reason Alpha’s didn’t typically share burning ire for one another usually did it but she had a feeling that the relationship between them wasn’t typical.

It never had been.

She let her gaze drift over him, slow, assessing, deliberate. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. The way he was breathing a little too fast. The way his thighs tensed subtly, like he was holding himself back. The way his fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for her but wouldn’t let himself.

Her lips curled slightly, lazy and knowing.

“Caleb.” Her voice was hoarse, rough from all the moaning, the gasping, the crying out, but she still managed to make it sound teasing, sweet.

His jaw tightened. “What?”

She shifted against Zayne, feeling the stretch of his knot, the way it locked her open, kept her full. She sighed, rolling her hips just slightly, just enough to feel that dull, aching throb of overstimulation, the wet, slick mess between her thighs.

Caleb’s nostrils flared.

She licked her lips, slow. “Are you just gonna sit there and watch all night?”

Zayne made a low noise in his throat, amusement curling at the edges of it. “You’re such a menace.”

She hummed, tilting her head slightly, looking up at Caleb from beneath her lashes. “What’s wrong? Don’t want me anymore?”

His expression darkened, something sharp flashing across his face. “You know that’s not it.”

She did. She could see it. Could smell it, the way his rut was still simmering beneath the surface, the way his restraint was fraying, threadbare and weak.

Zayne chuckled against her skin, his fingers dragging over her waist, possessive, lazy. “You’re really trying to break him, huh?”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

Caleb exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, his shoulders rising and falling with something unsteady, barely contained. “Fuck.” His voice was rough, wrecked. He was losing.

Good.

She held out a hand, palm up, inviting. “Come here, Caleb.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles going white. He was still hesitating, still fighting against whatever last shred of self-control he had left.

Zayne huffed, amusement thick in his voice. “If you don’t take her up on that, man, I will.”

His breathing was ragged, uneven, his muscles tensed like he was still holding himself back, still fighting not to crush her under the weight of his need.His pupils were blown, his gaze hungry, his body trembling with restraint. 

“You sure?” His voice was a growl, low and dangerous.

Her breath hitched, her pulse jumping. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Something in him changed completely as his mouth crashed against hers, rough, claiming, all teeth and heat and hunger. With his hand cradling her jaw he pulled her closer and sighed into her mouth as she moaned into it, arching, pressing up against him, feeling the hard, unrelenting lines of his body, the way he fit against her like he was always meant to be there.

Zayne let out a deep, satisfied hum against the side of her neck, still lazily grinding his hips against her, still half-hard despite already being locked inside her. “About fucking time,” he muttered.

Caleb ignored him, his grip tightening on her waist, his body pressing against her side and holding her as close as he could. His rut was catching up to him fast, hitting him hard, sending a violent tremor through his muscles. His scent spiked, thick and sharp, making her head swim, making her mouth water.

She could feel him, the hard line of his cock pressing against her outer thigh, heavy and burning hot, so close to where she needed him but not close enough.

She whined softly, shifting, pressing up against him. “Caleb.”

He growled, low and guttural, his hands dragging down her arms, over her ribs, down to her waist, gripping, kneading, feeling. His fingers dug in, possessive, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her, the way she felt under his hands.

Zayne chuckled lazily against her neck, his own hips still shifting in slow, teasing movements, his knot keeping him locked inside her, keeping her stuffed full. "Losing your mind already, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, with satisfaction.

Caleb growled, low and warning, but it only made Zayne laugh. Tired of waiting to have to pop his knot, but also tired of not having her in his arms. 

"Relax," Zayne murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "She can take it. Can't you, sweetheart?" His fingers ghosted over her stomach, slow and teasing, as if to emphasize how absolutely ruined she already was, how full she was stretched between them.

Zayne shifted against her first, the motion sending a dull, aching throb through her body as his knot pulsed inside her, still keeping her stretched around him, still locked in place. He exhaled a low, pleased sound against her neck, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her waist, possessive and indulgent.

"Fucking perfect," he murmured, lips brushing over her sweat-dampened skin. "Completely wrecked between us, huh?"

She barely managed a sound in response, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, her body still trembling in the aftermath. Caleb was slumped over her on the other side, his breath coming in slow, and uneven pants, his face buried against the crook of her neck. His hands were still gripping her thighs, still digging into her skin like he wasn’t ready to let go, like the last of his rut was still clinging to him, refusing to let him pull away.

She was utterly trapped between them, pinned by the weight of their bodies, by the thick unyielding knot still keeping her locked, still filling her past the point of sanity.

And god, she loved it.

Zayne chuckled, the sound low and smug as he shifted again, pressing even closer, rubbing his nose along the curve of her jaw. “Still burning up, sweetheart?”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers twitching where they rested against his chest. “It’s not gone yet,” she admitted, her voice raw from moaning, from gasping, from crying out their names until her throat ached.

Caleb groaned against her skin, his hands tightening on her thighs, his breath shuddering. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Of course it’s not.”

Zayne only hummed in amusement, his hand slipping lower, dragging slow, teasing circles over the curve of her belly. “Well,” he mused, his tone deceptively thoughtful. “I suppose that means we’re not done, are we?”

Her breath caught, something molten twisting low in her belly, a new wave of heat licking at her nerves, sparking her body back to life. The thought of more—the thought of being taken again, of being used until there wasn’t a single ounce of heat left in her—made her thighs clench instinctively, made a quiet, needy whimper slip from her throat before she could stop it.

Caleb groaned again, his entire body going tense, the sharp flare of his scent spiking around them like a warning. “You can’t just—fuck, Zayne, don’t start that shit—”

Zayne only laughed, smug as ever, his fingers dipping lower, skating teasingly close to the mess between her thighs, to the place where he was still locked inside her, still keeping her stretched and full.

"Why not?" he murmured, his voice dark and knowing. "She wants it."

Caleb let out a low, warning growl, but he didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t stop the way his fingers flexed on her thighs, like he was already losing the battle with himself.

Zayne smirked, dragging his teeth over the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Tell him, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Tell him how much you want it. How much you need it.”

She shivered, her body already betraying her, already responding to his words, to the promise laced in his voice.

She swallowed, tilting her head just slightly, her lips barely brushing against Caleb’s ear as she whispered, breathless and sweet—

“Please.”

Zayne’s knot softened first, the pressure inside her easing just enough that she could feel the slow, messy slide of his cock as it withdrew, leaving her gaping, dripping, a wet, obscene heat clinging to every inch of her skin. The absence was unbearable, a sudden, aching emptiness that sent a shudder through her, her body clenching down instinctively, desperate to hold onto the fullness that was slipping away.

A needy whimper broke from her lips, unbidden, her thighs twitching, her breath catching on the loss.

Zayne groaned as he pulled back, his hands gripping her waist for a moment, steadying himself. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. “Look at you—still so fucking open for us.”

She couldn’t answer—could barely think—because even before she could process it, before she could do anything but tremble from the loss, Caleb was there. No hesitation. No restraint.

He shoved himself into the space Zayne left behind, filling her in the same instant she lost him, pushing his cock into her slick, and swollen heat with a force that made her cry out, her body arching, her fingers clawing at the sheets beneath her. His rut was still running hot, still burning through his veins, still demanding more, more, more—and he gave in to it completely, burying himself to the hilt, groaning low and wrecked at the feeling of her wrapped tight around him, soaking, stretched, trembling.

His hands gripped her hips hard, pulling her against him, dragging her body up to meet his brutal, claiming thrusts.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice ragged, his forehead pressing against her shoulder. “I can still feel him in you.”

She sobbed at the words, her entire body clenching around him, overstimulated, ruined, and yet—still aching for more. The heat hadn’t faded. It still whispered in the back of her mind, still begged for everything they had to give, still kept her body open, pliant, desperate.

Zayne chuckled somewhere beside her, his hands sliding over her stomach, possessive and slow. “That’s because she’s meant to be filled, Caleb.” His voice was dark, knowing, his fingers ghosting lower, dipping between her thighs where Caleb was already fucking into her, spreading her open all over again.

Caleb snarled, thrusting deeper, harder, chasing his own knot, his body tensing with the sheer force of his need. “I know,” he growled. “I know.”

Where Zayne was gentle and firm, Caleb was ruthless. His thrusts were deep, punishing, merciless. His grip on her hips was bruising, his fingers digging into sweat-slick flesh, holding her in place, making sure she didn’t slip away from him—not even an inch. Not that she could or that she wanted to.

She was wrecked between them, overstimulated, stretched raw, completely lost in the haze of her heat. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Her body clenched down on Caleb’s cock, demanding more, sobbing for more.

Caleb growled, the sound feral, half-crazed. “So fucking tight,” he bit out, his hips snapping against her, his cock dragging against every sensitive, swollen inch inside her. “Still so fucking wet.”

Zayne chuckled—low, dark, satisfied. He was still close, kneeling beside her, watching where Caleb slid in and out, filthy and slick. His fingers traced absent, possessive patterns over her stomach, teasing at the skin, pressing down just enough that she could feel every thick, throbbing inch of Caleb inside her.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” Zayne murmured against her ear, his voice all dark amusement, all wicked promise. “How deep he is? How perfect you take him?”

She whimpered, ruined, her nails digging into the sheets, her body trembling, helpless beneath them. Caleb’s breath hitched, his pace faltering for a second—just for a second—because he felt it too. Felt the way her body pulled him in, refused to let him go, milked him for every inch, every thrust.

He wasn’t going to last. Not with her like this. Not when she was soaked, stretched, dripping from both of them. His fingers slid down, gripping the backs of her thighs, spreading her wider. He pounded into her, relentless, deep, unyielding.

Zayne hummed, dragging his fingers down lower, brushing over where she and Caleb were joined, slick, messy, obscene. He groaned, shaking his head. “Fuck, Caleb—look at her. She’s taking you so well.”

Caleb swore, shaking, sweat dripping down his spine.

He was close. So fucking close.

His knot was swelling, throbbing, pulsing inside her.

Her broken moans, her slick heat, the way she gasped and whimpered and sobbed for it— it was pushing him over the edge, driving him insane, making it impossible to hold back.

Zayne’s voice was low, knowing. “She’s ready, Caleb.” His lips brushed over her temple, soothing, taunting, unshakable. “Go on. Knot her, I want to see it happen this time,” having been on the receiving end more than once. While it did feel good in its own way, he always wondered just how it looked. 

Caleb snapped, thrusts turned brutal, desperate, losing all rhythm. His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her wide, open, his. She sobbed his name, shaking, coming apart, her walls clenching, fluttering, sucking him in deeper, deeper, deeper and then his knot swelled completely, locking them together, sealing him inside her.

He roared, wrecked, trembling, spilling deep, filling her, marking her completely.

Zayne groaned beside them, his hands still dragging slow, teasing circles over her sweat-drenched skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, voice thick, rough with satisfaction. “That’s it. Take it.”

The room was quiet now, the only sound was the steady rhythm of her breathing, the occasional soft sigh as she shifted in her sleep, pressed between them, utterly relaxed. Caleb’s knot had softened, and after a long, slow, careful withdrawal, they’d cleaned her up as best they could. She’d barely stirred, only murmuring softly, nuzzling into Zayne’s chest as he tucked the blanket around her, fingers brushing absently over her spine.

They’d promised to make her shower later, but for now, she needed rest. Zayne leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his damp hair, exhaling slowly. His body was heavy, exhausted, but his mind was still racing.

Caleb was sitting at the edge of the bed, phone in one hand, ordering food while keeping one eye on her.

“She’s gonna be starving when she wakes up,” he muttered, swiping through the menu. “You know how she gets.”

Zayne huffed out a tired laugh. “Yeah. If she doesn’t eat exactly what she wants, she’s gonna be a menace.”

Caleb’s lips twitched. “So, extra dumplings.”

“Obviously.”

A few more taps, then Caleb put the phone down, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms behind his head. His body still thrummed with residual heat, but it had eased now, settled. For a while, neither of them spoke. Zayne let his eyes drift to her—curled up, completely wrecked, completely safe. Her scent was still thick, sweet, lingering in the air, mixing with theirs, claiming every inch of the bed.

Something in his chest tightened, Caleb must have noticed, because he exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair before finally saying, “So… what the fuck happens now?”

Zayne’s fingers stilled against the sheets. He knew this conversation was coming. Had been waiting for it.

Still, he kept his voice even. “With her?”

Caleb’s jaw tensed. He glanced at her, then at Zayne, then looked away. “With all of us.”

Zayne breathed in deep, then let it out slowly.

They’d been here before. Not exactly here, not tangled up in heat and sweat and exhaustion, but close enough. Close enough that the weight of it pressed against his ribs, something unspoken and old and complicated.

Alpha-on-alpha relationships weren’t easy. They were incredibly misunderstood, people assumed it was all about dominance, about fights and aggression, about who was stronger, who was more in control, that had never been what it was like with them.

Zayne shifted, leaning forward slightly, his forearm resting on his knee. He met Caleb’s gaze head-on. “You tell me,” he said, quiet but steady. “What do you want to happen?”

Caleb’s throat bobbed. He looked away for a second, then back at Zayne, something raw and uncertain flickering behind his eyes.

“I don’t—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking know, man. I just—”

His hand twitched at his side.

Zayne knew him too well to miss the tension in his shoulders, the hesitation that wasn’t really hesitation at all.

Zayne’s voice softened. “Yeah, you do.”

Caleb let out a frustrated sound, raking a hand through his already-ruined hair. “Fuck. Fine. Yeah, I do.” He exhaled, pressing his palms together, elbows on his knees, eyes flicking to her again before settling on Zayne. “I want—” He exhaled sharply. “This. I want this.”

Zayne watched him carefully.

Caleb’s throat worked as he swallowed, his jaw tight, tense, conflicted. “I want her,” he admitted, voice low but unwavering. “And I want you, and it's the only thing I’ve ever wanted for as long as I can remember.”

Something hot and sharp flashed through Zayne’s chest. He should have expected it. Had expected it. But hearing it—hearing it out loud—was different. It shouldn’t have been but it was.

Caleb scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know it’s not fucking normal,” he muttered. “People don’t get it. They don’t get us. They think we’re supposed to—what? Fight it out? Figure out who the ‘real Alpha’ is? Fuck that.”

Zayne’s lips quirked. “We both know you’d lose.”

Caleb let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck you.”

Zayne huffed a laugh, but it faded quickly because beneath all the teasing, the truth still sat there, heavy between them. This wasn’t a new conversation but it was the first time they’d had it like this. Seriously. 

Caleb’s voice dropped, quieter now. More serious. “I don’t want to choose.”

Zayne exhaled slowly.

Caleb shook his head. “I won’t choose.”

Zayne’s chest ached. He understood that. He understood it so fucking well.

And fuck, maybe it was selfish, “I don’t want to, either,” Zayne admitted, the words barely above a murmur. Caleb’s shoulders sagged slightly, something like relief and exhaustion hitting at the same time.

Zayne glanced down at her again—the third piece of this equation, the one who changed everything. He let his fingers brush over her bare shoulder, a silent touch, grounding.

Caleb watched, then reached out, too. His fingers tangled with Zayne’s over her skin. A beat. A breath. A decision made in silence.

Caleb swallowed, his voice quieter now. Surer. “Then we figure it out. Together.”

Zayne nodded. “Yeah.”

No matter how hard it had been or how hard it was going to be or what people would think of them or how Alpha’s were supposed to act. He didn’t care, and neither did Zayne. Because when it came down to facts, they had always been stronger together.

The nest still smelled like her.

Sweet and slick, heat-heavy, soaking into the blankets, into their skin, their bones. But her scent had started to fade just enough that Zayne was aware of something else—something that had been there all along, lurking beneath the haze of instinct and need.

Caleb.

His scent was thicker now, sharper. Not as raw as before, but still simmering, still coiled tight in his muscles, in his breath.

Zayne could feel it.

Could feel him.

The weight of Caleb’s gaze, the restless way he shifted beside him, fingers flexing against the sheets.

They were both still wired, still burning under their skin.

And she was still asleep between them, her soft breaths even, her body completely spent.

Zayne exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, trying to settle the static under his skin.

Caleb moved before he could react.

A sharp press of lips, firm hands shoving him back.

Zayne barely had a chance to let out a low grunt before his back hit the blankets, Caleb’s body following, pinning, claiming.

Zayne’s lips parted—surprised, breathless, already sinking into it.

He shouldn’t have been surprised.

Not really.

Caleb’s mouth was hot, relentless, bruising, his hands already finding Zayne’s wrists, pinning them above his head, holding him still.

Zayne growled against his lips, pushing up, testing, challenging. Caleb just chuckled darkly, biting at his bottom lip.

“You’re still wound up,” he murmured, breathless, lips dragging along Zayne’s jaw.

Zayne exhaled sharply, fighting the instinct to roll them over, take control. “So are you.”

Caleb smirked against his throat. “Yeah. But I’m the one on top.”

And then he pushed down, grinding their bodies together, their cocks already hard, aching, slick with leftover heat.

Zayne let out a sharp breath through his nose, eyes dark, and hazy. Caleb’s weight was solid, grounding and overwhelming.

Zayne knew how this worked.

Knew that when Caleb wanted to take, he took.

And fuck, maybe Zayne wanted to be taken.

Caleb must have felt his body go still beneath him, because his smirk widened. “Yeah,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along Zayne’s throat, teeth grazing. “You’re gonna let me have you, aren’t you?”

Zayne exhaled, tilting his head back, baring his throat just enough to tell Caleb exactly what he already knew.

“Do it,” Zayne rasped.

Caleb didn’t hesitate.

He shoved Zayne’s legs apart, settling between them, spreading him wide. His grip was tight, unrelenting, keeping Zayne exactly where he wanted him.

And then he pushed inside.

A low, wrecked groan tore from Zayne’s throat, his head falling back against the blankets. Caleb was thick, heavy, deep, stretching him open.

Zayne’s fingers curled into fists, his body tense, taut, barely holding on.

Caleb laughed softly, rough with strain. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, voice thick with heat. “Still trying to fight it, huh?”

Zayne growled, his hips bucking up, trying to take more, trying to challenge.

Caleb let out a sharp, delighted breath—then grabbed Zayne’s wrists again, pinning them hard against the mattress.

“Oh, no,” Caleb murmured, his voice like gravel, smug and knowing. “You’re gonna take it, Zayne,”  then he fucked into him, deep, hard, brutal. Zayne gritted his teeth, his whole body jerking with the force of it.

He’d forgotten what it was like—how Caleb took, how he claimed, how he pressed Zayne into the mattress and didn’t let up. Zayne was burning, overwhelmed, gasping through clenched teeth.

Caleb just kept pounding into him, rolling his hips with sharp, perfect precision, one hand still locking Zayne’s wrists down while the other wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with every thrust.

Zayne’s breath stuttered. His hips bucked helplessly into Caleb’s grip, caught between the push and pull of pleasure, nowhere to go, completely trapped.

Caleb’s forehead pressed against his, breath uneven, voice nothing but gravel.

“Come on, baby,” Caleb muttered, filthy, rough. “Come with me.”

Zayne let out a low, broken sound, his body tightening, coiling, trembling. Caleb’s knot swelled, locking them together, keeping him deep. Zayne snarled, body jerking, pleasure ripping through him like a live wire, blinding, unbearable. Caleb groaned against his mouth, spilling deep, marking him completely. Zayne’s head fell back, gasping, spent, owned.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. A small shift. A rustling sound. Zayne’s head snapped to the side. She was awake. Propped up on one elbow, watching them, eyes dark, lips curled into something lazy and knowing. Zayne went still.

Caleb, panting against his throat, still knotted inside him, let out a slow, rough chuckle.

“Well,” Caleb muttered, voice wrecked. “Good morning, sweetheart.” She didn’t look away.

Zayne could feel her gaze on him—dark, knowing, heavy with something he couldn’t name. His lungs still heaved, his body still trembled, still pinned beneath Caleb’s weight, still locked around his knot, still marked, still claimed.

And she had seen all of it.

Heat crawled up his spine, not embarrassment, not quite, but something else—something raw, something vulnerable, something that felt too big to fit in his chest.

Caleb, the bastard, only let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered against Zayne’s throat, voice still wrecked, thick with the last remnants of rut. “Didn’t think we’d have an audience.”

His breath was hot, teasing, his hands still pressing Zayne into the nest, his fingers still firm, still grounding. Zayne clenched his jaw. He felt vulnerable like this, opened up by Caleb’s cock and tied to him being bred in the only way he could be. She was still watching. Zayne turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze fully for the first time since realizing she was awake.

She wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Her expression was lazy, slow, something unreadable sitting behind her half-lidded gaze. Her lips were curled just slightly, just enough, but it wasn’t amusement. She looked—comfortable.

Like this was natural. Like watching them was something she was allowed to do. Zayne swallowed, his throat dry, tight. His voice came out lower than intended, rough with something unsteady. “How long?”

She huffed a small breath, amused. “Long enough.” Zayne’s stomach twisted with something uncomfortable, he recognized it as fear though he was certain that Caleb felt the same way. For so long this had been real only for them. He hadn’t had to share this side of himself or Caleb with anyone.

Caleb’s fingers flexed against his wrists, and Zayne flicked his gaze back toward him, only to find those sharp violet eyes watching him closely. Caleb’s lips quirked. Something slow, something knowing. “You look like you just realized something important.”

Zayne exhaled sharply through his nose. Fucker.

Because yeah. He had. There was no fear in her gaze. No hesitation. No confusion. She knew exactly what she was looking at, what they were to each other, what they could be. She’d watched Caleb take him apart. Hadn’t looked away, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t run. And now she was here, still curled in their nest, still tangled up in their scents, still theirs.

Zayne swallowed hard. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, Caleb smirked.

She stretched slightly, slow, languid, satisfied then crawled towards them wanting to be closer to the heat of the nest which was undoubtedly these two. Then she tilted her head at him, something curious, teasing, just a little wicked.

“So,” she murmured, her voice still sleep-rough, still low, still drenched in heat and something thicker. “You gonna kiss me too, or what?”

Zayne forgot how to breathe as Caleb laughed. Low. Rough. Delighted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Caleb murmured, still knotted deep inside Zayne, grinning like the devil himself. “You have no idea what you just started.”

Three days later, the apartment felt different.

The thick, suffocating weight of heat and rut was gone, finally lifted. The air no longer reeked of desperation, of raw need, of pheromones clinging to every surface. The sheets had been washed, the windows cracked open for fresh air, and for the first time in days, the three of them weren’t tangled together in a nest of blankets and sweat-slick bodies.

But something lingered.

Something heavier.

She sat at the kitchen table, fingers curled around a mug of tea, her posture loose but tense at the same time. She was wearing a hoodie—one of Zayne’s, if the scent was anything to go by—but her bare legs were draped over Caleb’s lap, her body angled toward him instinctively.

Zayne stood at the counter, silent, watching.

Caleb was the one to break it.

“So,” he said, fingers tapping against her thigh, slow, absent, thoughtful. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

She exhaled softly, rolling her mug between her palms. “Yeah,” she murmured. “We should.”

Zayne finally moved, stepping forward, leaning against the table, arms crossed. “Alright,” he said, voice even. “Let’s talk.”

A beat of silence.

Then Caleb huffed out a slow breath. “Look. We all know this isn’t… standard.”

She arched a brow at him. “No shit.”

Caleb’s lips twitched, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’re Alphas,” he continued. “And you’re an Omega. That alone is rare enough these days. But two Alphas bonding an Omega?” He shook his head slightly. “It’s not unheard of, but it’s not exactly easy, either.”

Zayne exhaled through his nose. “Because Alphas aren’t supposed to share.”

Caleb made a displeased sound. “Yeah, well. That’s bullshit.”

She finally looked up, her eyes steady, sharp. “Do you think we can?”

Caleb turned to her, tilting his head slightly. “What?”

“Share,” she said simply.

Zayne’s stomach tightened.

She wasn’t asking in a teasing way, or a playful way. She was looking at them both, expression serious, assessing, waiting.

Because this wasn’t just about them wanting her.

This was about them choosing her. Choosing each other.

Caleb exhaled, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her knee. “Yeah,” he said, quiet but firm. “I think we can.”

Zayne didn’t hesitate. “I know we can.”

She searched their faces for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. Zayne could see it in the way her shoulders relaxed, the way the tension in her spine eased. Not because the conversation was over. But because it was starting.

She shifted slightly, turning more fully toward them. “If we do this,” she said carefully, “it means all three of us. Not just me and one of you. Not just when it’s convenient.”

Caleb nodded. “Of course.”

She met Zayne’s gaze. “And you?”

Zayne held her stare, steady, unwavering. “You’re mine,” he said simply. “But Caleb is, too.”

Caleb blinked, his jaw tightening slightly.

Zayne didn’t back down. “I’m not gonna pretend we’re like every other bond out there. We’re not. But that doesn’t mean we don’t work.” He tilted his head slightly, gaze sharp. “Unless you want something different.”

Caleb scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.” Zayne smirked slightly.

Caleb sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, though. This isn’t gonna be normal.”

Her voice was softer now. “Do you care?”

Caleb huffed out a quiet breath, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t.”

Zayne glanced at her. “Do you?”

She stared down into her mug for a long moment.

Then she sighed. “I think…” She exhaled. “I think the world doesn’t like things it doesn’t understand.”

Zayne watched her carefully.

She looked up, gaze flicking between them. “But I don’t care about the world,” she murmured. “I care about you.”

Something in Zayne’s chest tightened, burned, settled.

Caleb hummed, pleased, satisfied. “Good answer, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, kicking his thigh lightly. “Shut up.”

Caleb chuckled, but then his expression shifted, turning serious again.

“Alright,” he said. “Then let’s talk logistics.”

Zayne lifted a brow. “Logistics?”

Caleb gestured vaguely. “Mating bonds. How we do it. When we do it. How we handle things after.”

She frowned slightly. “What do you mean, ‘handle things after’?”

Caleb met her gaze evenly. “We’re gonna bond you,” he said simply. “Both of us. That’s permanent.”

She nodded. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Caleb’s voice was quiet. “Because it means no backing out. It means our instincts will be locked onto you forever. It means if you get hurt, if you get sick, if something happens—we feel that. It means we’re all tied together for the rest of our fucking lives.” Zayne’s jaw tightened. Not because he disagreed but because it was true. She was silent. Then, slowly, she reached forward, wrapping her fingers around Caleb’s wrist.

“I know,” she said softly.

Caleb stilled. Her grip was firm, steady.

“I wouldn’t be here,” she murmured, “if I didn’t know.”

Caleb exhaled. Then he nodded. Once. Firm. Decisive. Zayne watched them both.

Then, quietly, he murmured, “Then it’s settled.”

[veseartheneum]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ WOVEN BEAUTY

To bestow the Master of Fate a crown, you worked diligently as he sat by your side, intrigued and flattered by your determination. And when you were finished, you could not wait to crown him as he deserved.

pairing ― mof!zayne x f!reader word count ― >700 cw ― fluff, teasing note ― we need more mof!zayne and I rose to the call with @starmocha's help!

The stems between your fingers were small, delicate things — smooth to the touch of your fingertip, and pliable as the fibre of cloth that you stitched together to repair. 

It was beautiful. Golden rays shone down through the scattered canopy above to bathe the blooming buds in yellow sunshine, crisp as the morning air. The clearing was full of the call of birds, their small, round bodies darted by you as they went about their own morning routines — more than once you spied a worm dangling from the beak of a mother bird, no doubt on the way to feed her hatchlings. 

The climate was far too rigid for the thriving possibility of butterflies, and your heart ached with their absence. Every visit during the spring would be decorated so lushly with colours you could have scarcely imagined on the wings of your companions — it was dull without them. 

You sighed softly, still fidgeting with the half-made flower crown as you looked around the clearing. 

“Something on your mind?” Zayne asked quietly, his voice just above a whisper as to not disturb the serene silence. 

“I miss the butterflies,” you lamented, a frown on your lips. “It’s not the same without them.”

Zayne nodded once and tilted his head to observe a small flock of sparrows as they foraged by his feet. Their small bodies flittered in and out of his sprawled legs and the long tails of his robes. The soles and top of his boots were earthen brown from the flicked mud of beaks. 

“I’m certain they will return with the new season,” he said quietly. Wisps of raven-coloured hair stirring with the gentle breeze. “They may be as restless as you and return sooner, you never know.”

“Hmph.” 

A comfortable silence stretched as you sat there beside him, still fiddling away absentmindedly with the flower crown. 

Occasionally, Zayne leaned forward — carefully, as to not disturb the chirping birds at his feet — so he could pluck a stem or twig from the mounds of snow to add to your collection.  

You gratefully accepted the offerings, smiling shyly when your fingertips brushed against his glove.

Before long, the flower crown was woven with breathtaking hues of green and white — the stems lead to white blooms, a making of your own evol — while the foundation of twigs and thicker greenery strengthened the circle. 

You beamed down at the crown with pride, turning it this way and that way to catch the beams of sunlight on the sparkling flowers. 

“Beautiful,” Zayne whispered, and you gasped quietly in surprise. 

You turned to berate him for scaring you, but you found he wasn’t even looking at the finished product you displayed with the utmost pride, no. He was staring at you.

Forest green and gold eyes shone with the golden rays of the morning sun, catching the reflection of freshly fallen, white snow. A tiny smile, barely even noticeable if you hadn’t truly known Zayne, pulled at the corners of his lips. 

“Oh hush, you,” you spluttered, quickly glancing back down at your lap. “Flattery won’t work on me.”

“It won’t?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his rasped voice. “Then tell me why your crown is suddenly more interesting than maintaining eye contact with me. I’m sure the answer would be riveting, no?”

Scrunching your nose in embarrassment, you stared intently at the petals of your flowers — he had you there, damn him.

In a last-ditch effort to distract him from his quest of flattery, you adjusted the hold you had on your crafted crown and held it up towards the sky. “What’s more interesting,” you began, “is how pretty Shifu would be once I place this flower crown on his far-too-large head, hmm?”

Zayne laughed. His shoulders shook with the sound, and a rare grin made his eyes crinkle with delight — though it only lasted a mere moment. 

You shuffled forwards and leaned towards him, the crown still held aloft, and you placed it on his head. It sat perfectly (if only a little crooked) around his head and it rested perfectly above the gold strands of his headpiece tucked into the roots. 

An indignant snort of protest made him choke, then he sneezed at the sudden proximity of greenery.

“He is very pretty,” you cooed sweetly, batting your lashes. 

Zayne only stared back at you, his body still leaning away from you with one eyebrow arched in challenge. “You are impossible.”

“Mm. You do enjoy it, though.”

There was no protest to your statement. Instead, Zayne sighed in resignation and sat up properly, his shoulder bumping into yours.

[vesearlee]

──── 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑬𝒎𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆

There were only whispered words of his presence as Zayne slept — you never knew more than he would share. An enigmatic presence that loomed in the hours of the dark that haunted Zayne’s thoughts through the day; the very reason he worked himself to the bone to mend the hearts of the people that were dealt a bad hand. 

But even Gods weren’t immune to the darker side of their minds. And it just so happened that you could confront this perceived nightmare on your own.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Dawnbreaker!Zayne x F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 1.4k 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── T 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Heavy Angst, comfort, fluff, nightmares 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ── HERE + THIS 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ── I needed to give Dawnbreaker!Zayne a damned hug and that's what this turned into. ── This was also inspired by a tiktok that I fell in love with.

───  𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕  ───

Dark, dreary, and cold. The chilled atmosphere seeped into every sinew of your body — the muscles in your arm and shoulder ached in protest as you made a fist, while your palm and fingers closed around the cool feel of clean, clinical cotton. 

The permeated smell of stale air and antiseptic filled your senses, and you struggled to keep a choked groan behind the seal of your lips. 

The homely feel of lying in bed, in the comfortable space that was your shared bedroom with your lover had long vanished. It felt as though a void had crept through the window while you slept, leaving behind the hollow, desolate shell of something devastating. 

A small shuffling sound, akin to the ruffle of a thick overcoat came from beside your head. It made you freeze in place — fear settling deep in your chest and it forced your heart up into your throat. 

“Don’t move. Your pain will only be made worse if you do.” 

Your lashes fluttered open to reveal the dull white ceiling panels of a hospital room. There was no cacophony of steady beeps or shrill cries of machinery alerting the patrolling nurses of wayward patients — it was silent, eerily so. The cracked feel of your lips made you wince, and you turned your head to look for the source of the voice. 

A figure, shrouded in darkness from the shadow of the doorway, loomed over you — strands of raven hair moved over his forehead and down to his shoulders. Though his eyes, inescapable in their familiarity and the warmth they held for you in another life, were familiar; it was different, the dark shades of ice covered the forests of green and the gold of the sun rays. 

“You–” A heave of air left your chest in a deep cough. He moved fast, stepping closer while narrowing his eyes with concern. A hand covered in scars hovered above your wrist. “You’re not–? What is–” It hit you with the force of a bullet straight to your heart. “This is a dream?”

He nodded once, a small frown on his lips. 

“You’re him, you’re the one that–” The tip of your tongue darted out to wet your lips, but it provided no relief. 

“Here.” A small glass appeared by your face, and the hand holding it moved it to your cracked lips, urging you to drink. 

Slowly, you let the cool liquid flood your mouth and replenish what your body couldn’t. After he deemed you finished, the glass made a small thunk when he placed it down on the bedside cupboard.

“You’re Zayne, but…” The words were whispered, the fragility of them barely able to be touched, and those hazel eyes bored into yours, the depths of them swirling with an untold agony. He didn’t move or allow any emotion to show on his ever-familiar face — there was no warmth there as you were used to, that smile you longed to see would never grace his lips, not while you were here. 

“I see you know of me,” he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I–?” You struggled to your elbows; the lack of response and vitality of your limbs made you grunt with frustration and effort. “This is a dream—I don’t know how I’m here, but it’s you!”

Zayne stared into your face; flickers of gold shone as he took in your determined expression. 

“It’s you!” The repeated sentiment had no effect, and your heart sank. “I know you—you’re the one he dreams of, the one my Zayne is afraid of, I–” The sudden movement of his frame jerking backwards made you flinch in surprise. “No, please, please don’t go.”

Your hand reached out towards his retreating figure, desperate to soothe the animalistic fear in his taut features and sharp gaze. “I know. I know you’re hurting–”

“Stop.” 

Silence grew and grew, billowing and building in the space between you. His shoulders rose and fell at a stuttered pace, the fear that forced him backwards wounding in his chest and into a corner. 

“Stop—enough, please,” Zayne rasped, shying further back. The words sounded as though they tore at his throat on the way out. “I’ve watched you in my dreams. It was you that taught me how to grieve; how I could mourn the loss of everything that could have been and wanted, while you stood right in front of me with him and watched.”

Where your heart thundered so recklessly in your throat only a moment ago, suddenly became an icy cavern. Zayne shuddered and leaned against the wall by the door, a hand covering his face and his shame. 

But you could only gape at his shrinking figure, the way agony laced his words like a twisting branch of thorns, sharp in the way they gashed at your thoughts and memories of the man you loved — this version of him in far more pain than you could comprehend. 

The sorrow that filled you at the sight of him so defeated compelled you to move. 

Slowly, you rose to sit up on the hospital bed, each movement immediately protested by every single one of your muscles, but you quelled them in an instant. Zayne needed you, and there was nothing that could come between you and the few strides to close the distance, not even the man himself. 

“My snowman,” you whispered, watching the way he tensed at the sound of your voice. “It’s what I call him, you know? My snowman—I know you know this.” The soles of your feet hit the cold floor — you suppressed a wince. “You would have seen, right?”

Zayne’s gaze burned into you; through you with its intensity and pain. You pressed on, one slow step after another — the similarity of approaching a wounded and cornered animal not lost on you.

“You would have seen that I love him,” you continued, your voice lowered and shaky with the tidal wave of emotion you could barely contain. “You know, don’t you? Because you’ve seen.”

A small, jerked nod was your only reply, but he still did not move. The closer you moved to his seclusion, the colder it became. You persevered, pushing through the walls he was hastily throwing in your way to keep you out. 

“Then you would know,” you said quietly, coming to a stop only a pace away from him. At that distance, you could make out the shallow breaths he pulled through gritted teeth; how his shoulders almost went to his ears in a fallible defence. “That no matter who or what my Zayne becomes, I would love him.”

A single step closer. It echoed in the room like a clap of thunder. 

“You would know that I have seen him, even when he never wished for it, at his worst. How I patched the wounds inflicted by others and most harshly, himself—how his worst critic is his own mind.”

A slight shuffle of your feet brought you chest to chest with him, and he stood as though carved from the most beautiful, breathtaking marble, decorated with the soft petals of flowers that you imagined as his soft gaze—the way it made your heart stutter and swell with warmth. The hazel-green eyes you loved widened slightly in surprise at your proximity. 

“My Zayne…” you trailed off, smiling with the reminiscent love you held for him. “My Zayne holds my heart. And I hold his. Did you know that?”

Zayne’s throat worked, bobbing up and down as he wrestled with the fear and longing welled up in his eyes. “I– I did.”

His shoulders jerked as you reached your arms around his waist, and you placed your ear against his chest to hear the constant, reassuring thump of his heart — it was faster than a rabbit’s from your touch, but you stood fast, immovable in his embrace. 

“I know you’re hurting,” you whispered quietly, barely loud enough to hear over the thrum of his pulse. “I know it’s not fair.” Sturdy, strong arms crept from their rigid position at his sides to wrap around your back and shoulders. His broad chest hitched on a stifled gasp. “But I’m here now. I’m here with you.”

“Okay,” Zayne breathed. His arms held you tighter and tighter, unyielding and unwilling to let go of you, now that he had you. 

“And,” you said softly, squeezing his middle. “You would know that no matter who you are; a dream, a madman, whatever you will or will not be, you’re still my Zayne.”

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ── Half-Baked Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ "Like I said - I love you." • B1 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ "It's okay. I've got you." • ALT ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Cold as Ice • I3 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Stay a While • ALT ── MASTERLIST ── Tolkien Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Turned to Stone • B3 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Hidden Tears • B5 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Swallowing Hard • G5 ── MASTERLIST ── Gingerbread Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Dreams Do Come True • I2 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Body Swap AU • B5 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Shadows • ALT ── MASTERLIST ── Medical Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Grief • ALT ── MASTERLIST ── Hurt/Comfort Bingo (@sweetspicybingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Reassuring Smile • G3 ── MASTERLIST ── Lyrical Bingo (@sweetspicybingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune • A1 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ When we all fall asleep, where do we go? ── MASTERLIST ── Eclipsing Bingo (@eclipsingbingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Suffering in Silence • N5 ── MASTERLIST ── Hurt and Comfort Bingo (@hurtcomfort-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Identity Porn • I3 ── MASTERLIST

[aeyumicore]

green-eyed and creampied

just the, now, FIVE love and deepspace men being possessive and jealous!

━ ✧.˖ PAIRING: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb (separate) x female reader (afab)

━ .ᐟ✧ GENRE: smut, porn with little to no plot

━ ✧.˖ TOTAL WORD COUNT: 6.1k

━ .ᐟ✧ GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, jealous behavior, possessive behavior, LOTS of filthy dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!sylus, dom!zayne, dom!xavier, dom!rafayel, don!caleb, pet names, unprotected sex, never pulling out, banter, individual content warnings below with their respective fics

━ ✧.˖ LINKS: ao3

━ .ᐟ✧ A/N: haiiii guys it’s been a while since i wrote for all the guys. now FIVEEEEE guys, call it a burger joint.. .. sorry this is a day late. i know i’ve done a jealous fic before but i wanted to kinda do it again when they’re not drunk + include caleb.

caleb will still get his jealous and drunk fic tho! i’m also working on some stuff for caleb still. if ur a caleb girly u will eat

enjoy friends <3

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

sylus 秦彻

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,213

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight voyeurism, mentions of xavier, mating press, sylus on top, furniture breaks, lots of loud sex, sylus makes reader scream, praising

In the time you’d known Sylus, you’ve had to replace your mattress frame exactly three times.

It had gotten to the point where you refused to let him stay over. Not that that mattered, as you found yourself staying at his base—his home—far more than your own. 

But for whatever reason, Sylus had asked to stay at your apartment tonight—insisting that the base was unsuitable to sleep at tonight. Some unconvincing excuse about renovations. You were suspicious, but he wore you down.

And so you found yourself being absolutely fucked into your mattress, thinking about how you’d need to buy yet another frame tomorrow, when this one inevitably shattered. 

“Syluus,” you moan breathlessly, “S-Slow—mmngh—slow down. Bed’s going to break.” You wince when you hear it creak, knocking against your bedroom wall. 

“You don’t want that, dove,” Sylus purrs, “She doesn’t want that.” He rolls his hips harder, squeezing the plush of your ass so hard that he leaves indents in the shape of his fingers. 

“You know I can’t deny her, not when she wraps around me so fucking perfectly,” he groans, hiking your thigh up against his hip so he can angle deeper. 

“You’re impossible. W-What’s gotten into you?” you force the words out, your nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles of his shoulders, whimpering when he purposely drags his pelvis against your clit. 

Sylus kisses your forehead, the tender gesture nearly enough to make you forget that he was knee deep in your guts trying to imprint his name into you. 

“I haven’t seen you in a week. You’ve been so busy saving the world from Wanderers,” Sylus says simply, his voice calm and steady as if he wasn’t buried inside of you. 

Your lips curl, and you tease, “You missed me?”

Sylus scoffs, his rhythm slowing for a brief moment, “Yes, terribly so. I’m not afraid to admit that.”

Your heart skips a beat, looking away shyly. But Sylus brings your face back to his, his grip on your chin gentle. 

“What, getting shy on me now, little bird?” Sylus chuckles, almost condescendingly. 

”That partner of yours gets to see this beautiful face more than I do. Don’t look away,” Sylus murmurs, eyes trained on your lips. He drags his pelvis intentionally along you, the coarse hair along the base of his cock working literal magic against your sensitive bud.

It’s not enough for you to miss the whiny undertone in his words though. 

“You mean Xavier?” 

Sylus’s pace falters, but he smirks still, raising an eyebrow at you, “Tch, you should only be thinking of me right now.”

”Y-You’re the one who—o-oh god—brought him up!” you say incredulously, finding the strength to gently smack his solid marbled chest. He catches your wrist before you can make content, bringing your fingertips up to his lips.

He nips at your hand in warning, his pace growing more forceful, as if telling you to watch yourself. His increased vigor makes your bed knock more violently against the wall, your eyes widening in fear.

”Sy, the neighbors are going to hear,” you whisper, knowing he wont listen to you anyway. He’d been forever trying to convince you to move in with him anyways. 

“Hm, right. They will.”

You’re about to question his cryptic words when Sylus hoists your legs up, folding you in half. At this angle, he can quite literally hammer into you with an entirely renewed enthusiasm, reaching parts of you that he knew were your absolute weaknesses.

Your eyes roll back with a pleasured squeal, crying his name repeatedly.

Sylus smirks, praising you, your own name sounding like honey as it dripped off his tongue.

“That’s it, my love,” he coos, “Think you can get louder for me?”

You physically can’t respond, eyes squeezed shut as Sylus drives into your g-spot repeatedly and unrelentingly. He’s big enough where the head of his cock brushes against your cervix, a pleasure mixed with just the slightest pain that makes you delirious. 

“Sy-lus,” you moan brokenly, unable to stop from practically screaming, “So deep—can’t…”

”You’re doing perfect,” he praises, whispering your name in a way that makes your stomach coil tightly, on the verge of exploding. 

“Sh-shit. All you have to do is focus on screaming my name, hm? I’ll take care of the rest.”

You whine at the thought of your neighbors hearing you, knowing first hand just how thin the walls were. Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best to keep your sounds down.

And of course Sylus notices instantly. But instead of scolding you, he only fucks you harder–physically pulling the sounds out of you. The screams of ecstasy that he wants.

Screams that would undoubtedly be heard across the walls. And the ceiling,

“Just like that,” Sylus grunts, his crimson eyes nearly glowing with approval, “Think he can hear you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes, previously screwed shut in sheer pleasure, fly open as you register the implication of his words—his actions.

Sylus seems to anticipate your reaction, simultaneously bringing his lips over your nipple and his thumb to your clit—rendering you a wordless, squealing mess. 

You can’t see the way Sylus smirks against your breast with a dangerous satisfaction, his ruby eyes glowing with adoration and possession. 

“He might get to see you every day, but I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. So drunk off my cock that you can’t even open your eyes.”

His thumb moves faster, in perfect tandem with his claiming thrusts.

”He might get to hear them, but these screams are for me, and only me. Right, my love?”

You find yourself nodding obediently, willing to do anything to get him to shut up and give you the orgasm he’s holding just out of your reach. 

”Syluuus,” you plead shamelessly, words slurring, “F-Feels s’goood. Please!” Any attempt at being quiet had long been abandoned, your brain clouded only with thoughts of Sylus and the filthy mating press he had you folded into.

Sylus was a man of fierce passion, but this was entirely different. His beautiful eyes held a swirl of dangerous emotions, nearly as intense as the vigor in which his body pounding down into yours. Your nearing climax rings in your ears, blocking out the sounds of your mattress frame snapping, his thrusts masking the feeling of the wood smashing into the ground. 

He revels in your cries of pure ecstasy, satisfaction blooming in his chest as you grow louder with every thrust towards your release. Sylus’s vermillion eyes flicker to the ceiling of the bedroom, intrusive thoughts clouding his own building pleasure.

It’d be easier if he lived next to you as opposed to the unit atop yours.

With his lips at your neck, his thick body presses down onto you, angling himself deeper. As he brings your body to unprecedented heights, he whispers into the shell of your ear, voice husky and rough. 

”Can feel how close you are” he groans, your cunt attempting to wring his cock absolutely dry, “Want him to hear you cum for me?”

You whine, weakly shaking your head ‘no.’ Sylus only grins, his hips snapping into the plush of your thighs. 

”That’s too bad, kitten. Your dear partner is going to have to hear it anyway.”

xavier 沈星回

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,165

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dark!xavier, mentions of sylus, standing sex, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of cum marking, hitting it from the back, sex against the window, slight choking

“You’ve been at the N109 Zone a lot this week.”

You can hardly comprehend Xavier’s words over the sheer intensity at which he’s driving himself into you, as if trying to carve you perfectly into the shape of him.

“Wh-What?” you pant, your voice pathetically shaky as your palms desperately steady yourself against the window he has you pressed against. 

The city lights twinkle beneath you, and you find yourself grateful that you’re more than ten floors up. Because the way Xavier had your naked body pressed into the cool glass pane, his chin digging into your shoulder as his hips snapped harshly into your ass?

If you were on a lower floor, anyone outside would undoubtedly see everything. 

But you’re starting to think that’s exactly what he wants. 

“The N109 Zone. You’ve been there almost every day this last week,” Xavier says, his words simple but his tone almost threatening. Not enough to scare you, but just enough to have your toes curling in excitement. 

“And?” is all you manage, your back arching against his abdomen when he presses you deeper into the window. In response, Xavier’s thrusts slow to a near stop, his hand gently wrapping around the base of your throat. You whine in protest, desperately rolling your own hips backward against him, chasing the pleasure 

His tender fingers stroke the sides of your neck, so softly and adoringly. It gives you whiplash when you see how dark his eyes have gotten, almost sinister. 

Gripping you gently, he pulls you toward him by your neck until your head rests on his shoulder and you can really see the intensity of his shadowy azure eyes.

“Have you been working with the Onichynus leader?” he asks, his thrusts unbearably slow and shallow. 

“Sylus?”

At that, Xavier snaps, his grip tightening and his pace quickening. Except it’s much more violent this time around–enough to have your body pounding into the glass and your head swimming with delirious ecstasy. 

The sound of another man’s name on your tongue while his cock was nestled against your g-spot? That fueled Xavier with a jealousy that bordered on insanity. 

“You did that on purpose,” he grunts unhappily against your ear. It’s nearly impossible to hear him over the sound of his pelvis pounding into your ass, the wet slaps resounding throughout the room. 

“Mnngh…W-What did I do?” you ask, struggling to speak.

Xavier’s breath is heavy against your shoulder, his fingers abandoning your neck and instead cupping your jaw, turning your face towards him, so he can really look at you.

Wordlessly, he pulls your face to his, taking your lips into his–bruisingly and possessively. As his tongue claims every inch of your mouth, his cock does the same, filling you out so completely that you find it difficult to breathe. 

“Do I need to be rougher?” Xavier grunts as he reluctantly pulls away from you, his lips shiny and cheeks flushed red. You squeak when his hand roughly cups your breast, kneading just how he knew you liked, but just a tad bit harder to make you scream.

“Do I need to remind you just how much you need me?”

He punctuates his words with a pointed thrust, his cockhead stroking roughly against your most sensitive spots. 

“How much you need this?”

The intensity and passion in which Xavier takes you against the window is enough to render you a wordless, moaning mess. The glass is nice and cool against your burning skin, fogging up as Xavier presses you deeper into it.

He maneuvers your chin so that you’re facing the reflection again. He kisses your shoulder, deceptively tender, as he murmurs your name. The push and pull between tenderness and roughness confuses your brain, only making your body more receptive, more pliant, to him. 

“Oh god—Xavier!” you moan unabashedly, your forehead falling forward to lean against the window. Xavier smiles, thoroughly pleased at the sound of his name leaving your beautiful lips. 

But he was a greedy man and he wanted more. 

“Look at me,” he commands gently, saying your name with so much conviction and possession that you're wracked with a violent shiver. He tilts your chin up again, so that you come face to face with him in the reflection, the city lights outside blurring. His fingers are soft against your skin, his grip demanding.

Xavier’s glassy cerulean eyes bore into yours through the reflection, misted with a dark and raw possession that you’d been seeing more and more of lately as Xavier opened his heart to you. A look that made your instincts tingle with the need to escape. 

And yet your body only tightens with excitement, sucking Xavier further into you, wanting him harder–deeper.

But it’s still so effortlessly Xavier–pure and soft. It made your heart clench with adoration while your core tightened with desperation. 

His intense eyes burn into your naked form, fingers forcing you to watch him, as he speaks again, “The next time you go to the N109 Zone, I’m coming too.”

You’re about to protest but Xavier cuts you off, “I know you’re perfectly capable. That’s not why.” His words come out shaky and soft as you get painfully tighter, inexplicably turned on by his possessive nature. 

“If you’re going to be walking around the N109 zone with him, you’re going to do it with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You gasp, your stomach tightening at his filthy–completely serious–words. Xavier smiles into the mirrored window that’s now fogging up with your combined torrid breaths. 

“Do you like the sound of that? It feels like you do, angel.”

Xavier glances at you again, looking absolutely ethereal with the city lights twinkling behind his reflection. But he’s starting to look just as disheveled as you, his blonde hair strewn messily, his pale cheeks dusted pink, beads of sweat trailing down his muscles. 

As you get distracted in the way his burning cock literally reshapes your gummy walls around him, Xavier grabs a gentle fistful of your hair, forcing you to level with him. 

“Tell me you want it, please.”

His commanding words are tinged with just an inkling of insecurity, his blue eyes nearly begging with yours through the damp glass. 

You push yourself off the glass, leaning back against him, knees buckling when he gets deeper. 

Xavier wraps a secure arm around your chest, holding you effortlessly in place. In this position, he buries his face into your shoulder, his eyes still peeking over, trained on you. 

Laying your head back against him, you cradle the back of his head with your hand. Maintaining eye contact, you somehow find the coherence to appease him, knowing he’d go insane without your reassurance, no matter how ridiculous what he was asking was.

“W-Wan’ it Xav,” you moan through the force of his thrusts, “Anything you give me, anything you want. 

Xavier noticeably falters, his breaths becoming alarmingly ragged, azure eyes darkening to a deep navy instead.

“Then, let’s start right now.”

zayne 黎深

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,120

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking + hickeys, improper evol use, dry humping, mentions of caleb, zayne on top, praising

Zayne wasn’t a jealous man.

At least that’s what you’d thought—what he’d made you and everyone who knew him believe. 

He was wildly successful in his career, self-assured in himself, and secure in your relationship. 

And yet, the way he was sucking bruises into every inch of your burning skin, with the clear intent to mark and claim–where everyone could see, said otherwise. 

“Zayne—!” you cry out as he bites a particularly mind-numbing hickey into your collar, his skilled tongue soothing the sensitive skin as his teeth graze against the forming bruise. 

“Hm?” is all he murmurs. But he doesn’t let you continue or clarify, because the next thing you know, he’s rolling his bare erection against your moist slit, purposely letting his own leaking tip rub against your throbbing bundle of nerves. 

With your eyes squeezed shut in burning anticipation, you can’t see him, but you can hear the faint smirk in his voice. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” his lips are suddenly at the skin under your ear, pressing soft kisses into the spot he plans to mark you next. 

“You know what,” you whine, “Not so high up.” Even you can hear how half-hearted your plea is. You loved the rare occasion Zayne made it known exactly what he did to his favorite hunter, his most crucial patient, behind closed doors. 

But you’d gotten so familiar with Zayne’s straight-edged professionalism that you were used to him leaving signs of himself on your body that only you’d be able to see. Areas that only the two of you would know he’d been. Where his lips had been. 

“And why is that?” he chuckles, letting his lips ghost along your pulse, as if warning you what was to come if you didn’t plead your case. 

You gasp when he grabs the base of his cock, purposely letting himself brush against your soaked entrance, but not letting himself enter–much to your dismay.

“H-Have to go to—ngh—go to Skyhaven tomorrow,” you whimper, “Meeting with Caleb and the F-Fleet to discuss Wanderer activity.” 

Zayne pauses at your words, his entire body tensing ever so slightly as he presses himself forcefully into you, his muscles twitching against you.  

Ah. 

He collects himself instantly, his teeth nipping at your pulse in warning. 

“Oh?” he says, as if he didn’t already know you’d be seeing Caleb tomorrow, likely having gotten your mission schedule from the Association. Doctors often had access to the files of all Hunters that were under their care.

“Even more reason to send you off with a few gifts for the Colonel.”

If his jealous possession didn’t turn you on so damn thoroughly you might’ve rolled your eyes and teased him. Tease him that he’d said the childhood rivalry between him and Caleb was one-sided. That he’d said he was above that petty jealousy. 

But with Zayne’s cock wedged so tortuously between your legs, a burning path of love bites trailing from your neck to your breasts, his warm breath at your ear–you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but moan for more. 

“You sound beautiful,” Zayne whispers thickly into your ear, before his lips descend and latch onto the soft skin above your nipple, “So perfect like this. Spread out for me, begging for more.”

He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your heaving chest, his mouth pulling into a faint smirk at the pretty little marks he’s left all over your soft skin. The sense of satisfaction he feels from watching your quivering form, chanting his name like a prayer. The satisfaction he got from knowing that he’d be the only one to see you like this, feel you like this. Now and forever. 

The satisfaction from knowing that anyone who saw you would see exactly how thoroughly you belonged to him.

He shifts to give himself better access to you. To the spot between your legs that was reserved only for him.

Zayne positions himself, his tip at your aching entrance, his body coming down to hover over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes bore into yours, the gold flecks shining as he takes in your flushed features. His magnificent woman.

His fingers trace your jaw, carving an icy path down every beautiful mark, every searing claim. You yelp at the feeling of his Evol laced fingertips, body arching at the hypersensitivity of his frosty digits. But Zayne only presses you back down into the mattress.

“Tell me, love,” he whispers, his voice husky and gravelly with need, “Who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?”

Feeling rebellious, you refuse, “I’m not feeding into this ridiculous del–” You’re cut off by your own scream as Zayne’s fingertips close over your nipple, using his Evol to make his skin colder than it normally was. He repeats his demand, saying your name so tenderly–a stark contrast to his unforgiving touch that your body yearned for.

“Tell me.”

“Y-You!” you squeal as Zayne rolls your sensitive tip in his skillful torturous fingers. 

“Who’s the only one who gets to hear you make these perfect little noises?” This time he punctuates his question by bringing his frozen fingers to your clit, pressing down, simultaneously holding your body down as it arches.

“Anngh–you. Only you! P-Please–!” you beg, not able to take the hypersensitivity, but not wanting him to pull away. 

“So good for me,” Zayne murmurs, pressing his cock into you, just barely stretching you out, “And only me, right beautiful?”

Your eyes widen at the feeling of just his thick tip inside you. Your body arches, trying to receive more of him. He gently pushes you back down, his palm flat against your stomach. 

You whine at his blatant denial, using your legs to try to trap his body against yours, pulling him closer so he had no choice but to push deeper.

“Oh g-god, yes!”

But Zayne remains steadfast, his strong muscled body unmoving. Instead, he gently grips your chin, bringing your eyes up to his.

“Say my name.”

Zayne thrusts shallowly, forcefully pulling the words from your lips and making you spill exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Nnngh–only yours, Zayne!” His name rolls off your tongue like music, earning you a low growl of approval from the man just barely inside you. 

As if to reward you, he pushes himself fully inside of you, all the way to the hilt. He falls onto his elbows, rolling his hips with a passionate intensity that has you calling his name–over and over. With a torrid groan of your name, he desperately presses another blossoming bruise into your pulse. Right where everyone could see it.

“That’s right sweetheart. And everyone will know it.”

rafayel 祁煜

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,190

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking, spanking, kinda mentions of voyerism, raf on top but from the back, messy make out

You were a relatively flexible person.

By no means did you have the range of a gymnast or a professional dancer, but all things considered, you were decently limber for the average woman—dabbling in the occasional yoga and pilates. 

But that did little to prepare you for the arch Rafayel was forcing you into, his hand gently gripping your hair for leverage, the other pushing you down lower. 

He’d purposely put his massive ornate gold-rimmed mirror in front of his bed, forcing you to watch as he mounted you savagely from behind, his hips desperate to paint pretty flowering bruises into the plush of your ass.

Rafayel normally punished you with the silent treatment, or overt sass. But now?

He was punishing you with his insatiable body.

“You better not do that again,” the purple-haired artist groans from behind you, his voice much more demanding than you normally ever heard from him. His hips snap into you, your combined arousal dripping down the back of your thighs.

You can only moan back, every nerve end in your body burning with the pleasure delivered from Rafayel’s thick length inside of you, rendering you unable to think or speak clearly. 

Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Rafayel tugs gently at your hair, forcing you to level with him in the reflection in the mirror. He looks devastatingly handsome, his purple wavy hair tousled, like he’d run his hair through it several times. His soft, blemish free, skin a beautiful shade of coral. The sapphire in his eyes eclipses the soft pinkish corals, as he gives into primitive instinct, making them nearly entirely blue.

“Tell me you won’t do that again.”

You whine, even in your cock-drunk state, you know exactly what he wants you to say. 

Rafayel was just wrapping up a guest lecture circuit for the local universities, particularly their fine arts departments. He’d asked you to be his “assistant” to the last one, claiming he needed his precious bodyguard there if any of the students tried to kidnap him for ransom. 

During a portrait exploration exercise, a student had asked you to model for his sketch. It seemed innocent enough, and you didn’t want to make Rafayel look bad by denying a student’s genuine request–being his guest on campus.

And apparently Rafayel did not like that.

“Raf–!” you rasp, doing your best to speak through the torrent of passionate thrusts, your broken voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

“S-Slow down,” you whimper, unable to speak coherently, answer his demand, if he was fucking you this passionately. 

“That’s not what I asked for, pretty girl,” Rafayel murmurs, his own voice nearly broken over how perfect your gummy walls convulse around him. 

You squeal when he presses his palm harder down on the small over your back, making your ass arch even higher for him.

“You’re in no position to be making demands,” he pants, the hand in your hair abandoning your head to grab a fistful of your soft ass. He kneads it tenderly, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you, before releasing it.

Thwack!

Your eyes widen, a squeal erupting from your lips as Rafayel’s hand comes down to meet your rear in a harsh spank. 

“Come on, baby,” he groans your name, halfway between a growl and a whine. 

“W-Was jus’ a portrait sketch,” you reason, catching his heated gaze in the mirror. His perfectly arched eyebrow raises at you.

“You think I care?” Rafayel mutters, smacking your ass again, only this time it’s softer. Not punishing, but rather claiming. With the sole intent to mark you up. His.

“Unngh–you asked me t’come!” you slur, your entire body jolting with the force of his body pounding against yours.

“Yeah, to be my pretty little TA,” Rafayel protests, “Not someone else’s fucking inspiration!”

He slumps over you, forcing you deeper, his chest lightly pressed against your upper back, his lips pressed into your shoulder, nipping gently.

“Ngh–knew I should’ve kept you under my podium,” he grumbles, only half joking. 

You give him a pointed look in the mirror, your face covered in sweaty strands of hair. Rafayel props himself above you with one arm, the other tenderly sweeping your hair out of your face. So he can see you properly. 

You were his. Only his.  

Even if it was just some unsuspecting university student. 

Rafayel grabs your chin, turning your face so he can kiss you. You crane your neck towards him, letting him capture your lips aggressively, possessively. 

It’s anything but a gentle tender kiss, but rather a dark claiming one. One where his tongue explores every inch of you, his teeth nipping your lips, swallowing your exquisite cries of pleasure. 

When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects you to him. His fingers still gripping your chin, he turns you back to the mirror. 

“You’re my muse. No one else gets to use you, innocent sketch or not.”

You nod submissively, inexplicably turned on by his jealous and possessive demeanor. Rafayel smiles at you through the reflection, a heated promise in his bi-colored eyes.

“Fuck—just like that, need to memorize every inch of you like this,” he moans, stroking your hair unbearably gently. As if he wasn’t rutting into you so viciously that his entire bed shook, the expensive wood legs of the frame scraping against the silk rug. 

“You—mmmf—always say that,” you tease him, “Surprised you haven’t—ngh—haven’t created an entire map yet.”

Rafayel gives you an unamused look, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable Rafayel grimace.

”A map? No,” he lowers himself back to your shoulder, letting his warm breath tickle your neck. He leans his head against yours, his hips rolling like the tides of the ocean. Except maybe during a tsunami. 

He laughs when you nearly collapse, his angry tip hitting your g-spot. He catches you, hooking his arm under your stomach before you can lose that beautiful arch. 

“Raf—!” you moan, “Can’t…Can’t take much more.”

“Easy, cutie,” he kisses your ear, slowing his movements much to your dismay. It stifles your impending orgasm, making you whine in frustration. 

“D-Don’t tease Rafayel!”

He lets out a breathy laugh, giving you a single languid thrust before slowing again. 

“Well I can’t have you tapping out juuuust yet,” he smiles into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your pheromones, the left side of his chest burns as your scent clouds his brain. 

“I need more time, if I’m going to commit this image to memory,” he whispers predatorily into your ear, directing your face back to the massive mirror. The image reflected is so unbearably lewd.

Rafayel’s muscles ripple as he quite literally mounts you. You look so filthily undone beneath him, your skin flushed and shining with sweat, lips swollen and slick.

”Going to make a mural of you, exactly like this,” Rafayel grins wickedly, delighted by the way your eyes widen with horror, before rolling back into themselves. “Cheeks flushed, perfect ass up, hair disheveled…All for me.”

He gives you another gentle spank, your poor cheek reddened and marked.

“Think that will inspire him?”

caleb 夏以昼

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,417

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight improper evol use, mentions of zayne, against the wall sex, kinda leash use, caleb puts his dogtag in reader’s mouth, hickeys, brat taming

Against the setting sun, Caleb’s silver dog tag casts dancing flashes of light on the wall of his bedroom. Sunsets in Skyhaven have always been so much more magnificent. The floor to ceiling windows allow the waning sun to paint the entire room in a brilliant orange glow, the light bouncing off the necklace he never took off. 

The necklace that was now swinging wildly against your own naked chest with the force of Caleb’s desperate, forceful movements. 

”C-Caleb, o-oh god,” you cry, nails digging painfully into him, an angry trail of red welts already littering his muscled back. He hisses at the sting, but it only makes him more feral, his pelvis slamming so violently into yours that the wall behind you nearly tremors with his raw strength.

“Yeah? Finally being sensible, princess? Ready to be a good girl for me?” Caleb grins, his words lacking any real bite, balancing you in one hand as he moves your hair to one shoulder.

You whine in indignation, knowing exactly what brought about his sudden attitude. 

A certain raven haired surgeon you both knew all too well. 

It would be adorable if it wasn’t making him so damn animalistic right now. But who were you kidding—you loved it. Loved him like this. 

“Y-You were in important Fleet briefings all day,” you pant through the moans, his cock spearing up into you as he holds you firmly to the wall. 

He presses ravenous kisses to your jaw, his fist balling as it propped himself against the wall. “And? All you have to do is ask and I’ll have someone stand in for me.”

“You’re the Colonel–mmngh–you can’t just drop your duties every time I n-need someone to pick me up!”

“Fuck– so damn tight,” Caleb groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he ruts into you savagely, “and who says I can’t?”

There’s a childish and challenging lilt to his gravelly voice, squeezing your ass with his right hand, leaving flourishing bruises behind. If that arm couldn’t feel you, it’d sure as hell leave reminders he was there. 

Your eyes roll back, from the pleasure or Caleb’s ridiculousness, you’re unsure.

“It was right next to the hospital,” you whine, squealing when Caleb takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth, “Mmngh–Zayne was a-already there!”

Caleb’s rhythm doesn’t falter for a second at the sound of that name rolling off your tongue. In fact, it seems to only make him more determined. More feral.

He holds your jaw in his fingers, his violet eyes glowing with a cautionary sparkle. The cool metal of his dog tag rattles against your bodies, pressed together and slick with sweat.

“I would’ve been there too. If you called me,” he murmurs petulantly, his face transforming into that classic wet-puppy face that Caleb so expertly used to get his way with you. 

But the contrast of his adorable face to his downright filthy thrusts helps you stay clear-minded against his charms. Well, as clear-minded as you could be when he was being like this.

“Caleb, you’re being unrea—oh god!” you whimper, his fingers meanly pinching your clit, purposely trying to make you lose your train of thought, “U-Unreasonable!”

He pulls your chin to him, enveloping you in a feverish kiss, no doubt trying to get you to give in to his jealous little whims. When he pulls away, he tilts your chin up to look into the burning galaxy in his irises. 

“You’re my girl. Call me next time, okay baby?” His tone, commanding–nearly a growl, betrays his deceptively sweet words. 

You continue trying to reason with him, clawing desperately at the thick ropes of muscles in his back, “You w-were in Skyhaven! Would’ve been—angghh—been waiting for hours!”

Caleb presses warning kisses into your neck, his teeth nipping hard enough to leave marks. He takes one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers slowly. 

”Personal aircraft. Did you forget? Even after you rode me that one t–”

You whine in embarrassment, cutting him off with a poignant roll of your hips, “Ngh–Caleb! Y-You can't possibly fly a whole ass plane to Linkon every time Zayne tries to–” 

Caleb interrupts your words with a growl, hips slowing down tortuously. His fingers wrap gently around your neck, his head tilted as he stares down at you. 

“Really? You’re going to keep saying his name when you’re crying out for me? For this?”

To punctuate his lightly veiled threat, he ruts particularly viciously, your entire body sliding up the wall. He presses against you so tightly that you shudder, the cool metal of his necklace like ice against your singed skin. His hand brushes along your naval, where he can feel his cock hammering in and out. He presses down, eliciting a beautiful scream from you.

“God, you’re such a brat today,” he growls heatedly in your ear, his hand abandoning your stomach, threading with your fingers again. He raises your joined palms above your head, pushing them into the wall, giving him a bit more leverage as he tries to use his cock to make you forget anyone’s name but his.

Particularly that of your beloved doctor. 

“I’m the brat?!” you say incredulously. He cuts you off, hammering until you can nearly feel him in your throat, but you don’t stop, “Y-You’re the brat! Still letting Zayne get under y–mmmf!”

Irritated at your unending talk of Zayne, his dog tag still swinging annoyingly with the force of his thrusts, Caleb cuts you off again. Using one hand to balance you, his free fingers place the tag of his bouncing silver necklace in between your lips. The cool metal brushes against your tongue and you whine as he squeezes your jaw, making it difficult to release it. 

“Only name I want to hear from you is mine,” he murmurs, voice deceptively soft. He smirks when your eyes roll back, his tag still between your pouty lips. Something about the sight of you, his claim in your mouth, your eyes nearly white with the sheer force of pleasure only he can give you? It sends him dangerously close to losing all control.

Caleb’s fist slams into the wall next to your head, gasping out a string of expletives, his hips stuttering with the overwhelming emotions he feels when he looks at you. Taking a deep breath, he tries to collect himself, not quite ready to give you your release. His fist softens, stroking the chain of the necklace as it dangles from your mouth toward his chest. 

“You gonna be good?” he coos your name, his smooth, heated voice doing little to betray how dangerously close he is to coming undone into your impossibly tight heat.

You give him a rebellious glare, your eyes saying no. You were this close to being cock drunk and giving in to enabling his possessive behavior, but you did your damned best to hold onto your pride.

Caleb chuckles darkly, freeing your chin which lets you drop the metal tag from between your teeth. He catches it in his fingertips, stroking the damp steel, his wordlessness feeling almost sinister.

You yelp when your neck is yanked towards him, close enough that you can feel his threatening breath against your lips, a dangerous glint in his eyebrow-shadowed eyes.

At first you think it’s his Evol, both his hands still occupied–one gripping the dog tag and the other gripping your ass. But at the slight sting at your nape, you realize you’d completely missed him slipping the gifted necklace over your neck. That he probably with his Evol.

And now he was using it like a leash, pulling you toward him like he owned you. 

You gasp when he tilts his head, still gripping the necklace gently, your back slamming into the wall as he fucked into you with renewed vigor. He inhales your choked breath as his own, wanting to consume you entirely. 

With his Evol, he holds you flush against the wall, using one hand to guide you with the pull of the silver jewelry, the other cupping your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw. 

“I hope you don’t have any more plans this weekend. Especially not with Zayne.”

His hand slides from your jaw to your neck again, squeezing in a way that has not only your throat constricting but also your cunt, in pure thrill.

“We’re going to be here until the only name you remember is mine. Now be a good girl and be quiet, yeah?”

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[berrryparfait]

sex pollen ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: zayne, xavier, sylus, caleb, rafayel x fem-afab!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: spring is here, and the "thorny" flower is in season. beware, unsuspecting farm visitor, lest you inhale the evil flower's pollen and fall victim to its whims... 「this urge... i can't resist it anymore—!」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: [nsfw] pure smut, literal sex pollen; "spontaneous and urgent need to have sex", piv, creampie, intense orgasms, dubcon, characters are not dating nor have they ever f*cked before (frenemies)

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: pelican town (from stardew valley)

✧ a/n: was the stardew valley soundtrack too unhinged or... anywaysss sex pollen is one of my all-time favorite tropes ever so here's my take on it <3

Sure, he might not be your favorite person in the world, but just for today, you're content with being acquaintances. For what it’s worth, if there’s anything worse than spending a whole day with your begrudging frenemy, it’s losing.

The annual Spring Corn-Picking Festival has begun, and you’ve been paired up with him. Can you put your differences aside and put your skills to the test? Or is there something else—something sinister—lurking beneath the surface, waiting to strike?

The “thorny” flower is in bloom, and no one is safe…

“Follow my lead if you want to win. I did my research, so I know where all the best spots are.” He parts the thick maize, making way for the both of you to trudge through the field. You roll your eyes at his predictable arrogance. “Please. I used to live on a farm. I know my way around—” You trip on a small rock and stumble into his back. He barely even glances at you. “Be quiet if you don’t want to sabotage our mission.” Rude. “Hey, there’s some up there.” You both dart towards the bunch of ripe corn a few feet away, no longer weary and complacent. Placing his basket on the ground, he begins to expertly pluck the corn from their stalks, intense concentration written all over his face.

All of a sudden, a strange smell hijacks your nostrils. “Do you smell that?” He grimaces and looks around, apparently sensing it too. It’s…strange. Foreign. Not entirely unpleasant. The flesh between your legs throbs. Why do I feel…? Your eyes lock with Zayne’s, then travel down to his groin. He’s hard. It takes him two seconds to close the distance between you. “Zayne, what’s going on—” He yanks your overalls down and grasps at your breasts, the expression on his reddened face absolutely feral. “I-I don’t know—” he stammers, still smearing his hands all over your plump chest. “But I can’t stop…” He pulls your panties down in one fell swoop to find you already dripping wet. His pupils dilate at the sight, and his hands automatically move to undo his belt. It doesn’t take long for him to free his erection, which is so large by now you almost feel bad for him. “Wait, we’re in a corn field—” Your words are abruptly cut off by him spinning you around and plunging his cock between your folds, and you have to cling to the sturdy stalks to prevent yourself from falling over. A hand goes over your mouth to conceal your surprised moans. He has you bent over in front of him, back arching against his dick as he thrusts into you and curses under his breath. I don’t like you! You don’t like me! Why does this feel so good?! “Fuck— I can’t stop—” His groans are strangled and pained, his hips moving so fast the field around you blurs into a mess of pale green and yellow. Expletives escape his lips as he slams into you so hard you both come undone, his hot, thick cum filling you up and dripping down your legs as you spasm and shake under his grip. You’re panting. He looks like he can’t even breathe. “What the fuck was that, Zayne?!” you scream at him, flustered and so utterly confused. “It’s that damn flower… Fuck. I’m sorry.” You pull your overalls back up and shake your head, unsure how to feel about all of this. “Let me make it up to you— Dinner. Tonight.” Tiny butterflies drift into the field.

“Would you quit micromanaging?” He glares at you before turning back to the corn, both hands wrapped around its plush kernels. “I’m just saying, twisting it out might be faster.” Always pouting, always bickering. It’s the only thing you two ever do. You’ve never denied that it bothers you, the way he acts as if you’re beneath him. “If you’re so confident, you do it.” You take the bait and push past him, sandwiching yourself between him and the stubborn stalk of corn. A smug grin plays at his lips when you fail to pull—no, twist—it out, his arms crossed over his chest.

Xavier sneezes. He brushes it off as a one-time thing at first, but then he sneezes again. Hay fever? he thinks to himself. Suddenly, the image of you working your hands around the cob of corn—squeezing and pulling at its base—is too much for him to bear. He’s imagining his dick in its place. You don’t realize it at first, but you’re getting wet. You feel the abrupt, inexplicable need to grind against something. Anything. All at once, you push Xavier to the ground and sit down on top of him. “Do you feel that?” you whisper between gasps, the pool of need between your legs growing by the second. He nods breathlessly, uncertain, but wanting all the same. Your hips involuntarily roll against his, and you both suppress a moan. The next thing you know, you’re grinding against his rock-hard cock and relishing the sounds of his tortured groans. “I’m—so horny—right now—” His voice is fried, needy. You lift the skirt of your dress and pull your panties to the side, clearly sopping wet. His jeans are unzipped. In what seems like an unimaginable moment, you’re bouncing on his dick and screaming out in pleasure. Why does he…feel so good… Your thoughts are a mess, part confusion and part unbridled lust. The way he rubs against your walls, jerks upwards to meet your thrusts, whimpers like a man starved—it’s everything you never knew you needed. You roll your hips at just the right angle, and he gets impossibly bigger before shooting warm spurts of cum into your cervix, his thighs clenching underneath yours as the most intense orgasms the both of you have ever had crash over your joint bodies. You roll over to lie down beside him, still in shock. “W-What was that?!” He turns to look at you and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear—ironic, considering your entire head’s a complete mess. “I didn’t know you had that in you. You didn’t even kiss me.”

“Perhaps we’d get there more quickly if you stopped whining,” he jabs, already five feet ahead of you. His demeanor remains cool and composed, yet frustration simmers beneath the surface, visible only to those who know the enigma of a man well enough. Unfortunately, “those” includes you. “I just can’t believe I’m stuck here with you. Of all people.” Without looking back, he replies, “Are you sure this isn’t your desire for me speaking? Because judging by the way you were eyeing me just now…” You huff at his ridiculous statement. “Ha! You wish. Sleeping with you is the last thing I’d ever want, so keep dreaming, buckaroo.”

You don’t hear his reply. A sharp, almost sweet scent attacks your senses, conquering your mind almost instantly. You sway amongst the stalks of grass, trying to make sense of the sudden urge you’re feeling—the urge to bury Sylus’ dick between your legs. I hate him I hate him I hate him— Your hands reach out to grab him before you can stop them, and he spins around abruptly to gently push you away. “Having a change of mind?” He means the question as a joke, but the sound of his gravelly, seductive voice only intensifies the throbbing in your cunt. “Shut up and fuck me,” you spit, fully convinced you’ve gone insane. But he doesn’t object. The cocky grin vanishes from his face as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down, apparently devoted to the task. His underwear is still on by the time he’s lying on top of you, pupils dilated and erection rock solid. Overcome, he dry-humps your clit for a whole minute, the pressure so rewarding that he can’t bring himself to remove his boxers. “Fuck, baby— What are you doing to me?” He hisses when you yank them down yourself, eager to bury his cock deep inside you. No time is wasted. In a single thrust of his hips, he’s plunging all the way into you, so big you cry out in delicious pain. Your hips move in tandem with his, mud covering your back and seeping into your hair—but you couldn’t care less. His length is pumping in and out of you so hard your eyes roll to the back of your head, and distantly you wonder how long you’ve secretly needed—wanted—this. He grunts with each jerk, wet squelches filling the air as the strawberry-picking competition is forgotten, sweet release the only thing on his mind. A stutter—a falter, and he erupts, his thick seed coating your walls and seeping out of your pussy. You both fall silent as the pleasure consumes your bodies, so good your eyes squeeze shut and your throat goes completely dry. “I’m…a mess…” you mutter between pants, pushing him off of you. “Who wants to sleep with who now?” He shoves his pants back on and—blushes?! “It must’ve been that flower. Though… It’s worth mentioning that I’m immune.”

“Alright, let’s hurry up and get this over with.” He doesn’t seem thrilled to be wading through a cornfield with the likes of you, one of his childhood tormentors. Well, he’d tormented you back, of course—middle school turf wars were no joke. You both grew up and learned to tame your reactions a little, but some things never change. The fact that you’re still stuck in the same small town with him, for instance. “After all these years, Caleb is still a jackass,” you quip, already making your way towards a ripe bunch of corn. “You’re just jealous I never dated you.”

The wind blows, and you scrunch your nose at the scent it carries. “Shh— Do you smell that?” His eyes go wide as realization hits, and he rushes to cover your nose and mouth with his hands. “It’s that devil flower that spews aphrodisiacal pollen. Don’t. Breathe.” His expression is grim as he clamps his mouth shut, but he’s already starting to squirm. A small pit of arousal emerges in your core, but he’s clearly having a harder time than you are, the outline of his hard cock visible through his trousers. “Caleb…?” you ask tentatively as his hands slide away from your face, flexing indecisively before reaching towards you. “Caleb, wait a second—” He’s on his knees, pulling your shorts and panties down. Oh my god, this can’t be happening— You gasp as his tongue glides against your clit, the simple movement leaving you wanting more. Your hips grind against his face as you moan his name, lost in the lovely vibrations of his own groans of pleasure. “Get on the ground.” His tone leaves little room for debate. You lie flat on the soil, back towards the sky, and turn to look at him over your shoulder. His dick is out, precum coating the tip as it beelines straight for your inviting cunt. Pure bliss overcomes your system when he first glides in, your walls instantly slickening in response. He pounds into you from behind, his whimpers mingling with yours as you’re swept away by the feeling of finally having Caleb inside you. It’s surreal—ten years ago you would’ve laughed at the thought. Now your mouth hangs open for different reasons. “Faster, Caleb—” you squeak, desperate to reach your climax. He drives into you, clenching hard before he drenches your pussy, a steady stream of cum dripping down onto the soil below. “Holy fuck… I’m sorry…” he whispers, getting up to put his pants back on. An unexpected wave of laughter hits as you recover from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body sated and…comfortable. “Don’t you dare blame this on the pollen.” He sighs wearily and smiles. “I’m not.”

“If we don’t win, I’m blaming it on you.” Great. This detour was all your fault. You can’t believe this guy. First, he makes no effort to help with navigation. Next, he decides that if anything goes wrong, you’re to blame? Sweet crackers, he’s the most insufferable fool you’ve ever met. Sure, he’s charming—the old ladies back at the farm couldn’t have made it clearer—but you don’t get to have a competitive streak when you’re not the one doing the streaking. Seriously, he’s slow as hell. “Stop talking and walk.”

“There’s something in the air,” he remarks, squinting. It’s the first time he’s paid attention to anything today, so you hear him out and begin sniffing your surroundings. You detect nothing and call him a big baby, resuming your search for corn. “I’m being serious! I swear it’s doing something to me…” He turns away then, so hastily your suspicions are raised. “J-Just gimme a sec!” he calls over his shoulder, “Lemme take care of something real quick—” You turn back around, tired of his antics, but a barely concealed groan stops you dead in your tracks. He’s jerking off in broad daylight, his head thrown back in relief. “Rafayel, what the f—” You feel it then, the throbbing ache in your pussy, and suddenly his presence no longer annoys you. You inch towards him, eyeing his hard cock as he pumps it with his fist. At the sight of you staring up at him with a strange, unabashed lust, his thighs clench and he moans your name, the sound of it on his lips sending waves of arousal down to your core. You push him down by the shoulders so he’s sitting upright on the ground, dick so hard it looks miserable. “Bounce on it,” he orders. In the span of two seconds, your panties are pushed to the side and your cunt is enveloping his cock. You’re so full, so dirty with him between your legs—Does it feel better to fuck someone you pretend to hate? His thumbs bruise your hips as you keep your pace, bouncing on his lap like your life depends on it, his tip crushing against your cervix the only thing on your mind. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he breathes before pumping his fresh cum into your pussy, your combined cries of pleasure so loud a neighboring flock of birds takes flight. Defeated, you lean against him in his lap, still shaking with desire. His hand goes up to rest on your head, his touch surprisingly tender. “I’ve been waiting all year for that.”

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

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