∂σ૨σƭɦყ

and maybe there’s a study that needs to be done on his brain because you’ve told him countless times that you’re his. you don’t want anyone but him. but it’s almost like he can’t hear or understand you unless you’re saying it with his cock shoved inside of you and you’re babbling it out to him. 

like right now.

with his silver brows drawn in, he grunts rolling his hips against yours, “i hate when he talks to you.” 

he, is jeremiah, and the talking was a simple greeting followed by your name when you and xavier went to visit him at philo after work. 

you grip at his arms with clammy hands and you let out a shaky laugh, “h-he’s your best friend, xavie, don’t– fuck, baby– don’t be cr-crazy.”

“you’re my best friend. don’t care about him– only you, you hear?” he’s literally splitting you open, thrusting into you like a rabid bunny with a pout on his face. “hate that he even said your name.”

“ah, xav, please!” you cry, but there’s no stopping him when he gets like this. “he was just– just being nice, jere–”

he cuts you off with haste, his sapphire eyes turning a shade darker. “don’t even say it.” he demands, voice dropping an octave lower. “don’t say his fucking name.”

and then he offers a deep, hard thrust and you moan, arching your back off the bed. your nails dig into his skin leaving red, little crescents in his milky skin. 

he’s hissing out your name and leaning in to shove his face in the crook of your neck. he licks and bites and licks and bites until he’s sure that the entire right side of your neck is littered with hickies. 

“you’re mine, right, honey?”

you clench tightly around him, breathing out all the words as they come from the bottom of your heart. “all y-yours, baby. always gonna be y-y– mmph– yours.” 

he kisses your neck again. this time, it’s a soft, little peck which is a stark contrast from the way his cock ravages your cunt. “this is mine.” he mumbles against the tainted skin. 

he pulls back, his hands coming to squeeze your tits gently. “these are mine.” they trail down, one on your hip and the other splayed right over your abdomen where he can feel his dick inside of you. “and this right here, baby?”

he pushes down with a lazy smile on his gorgeous face all while he watches you cum for him. 

“this is me taking what’s mine.”

#ZAYNE: THE ONE IN CONTROL! 

before seeing you again, zayne had nothing but med school and work. he never let loose, never made many friends, never had anything. the only thing he had holding him together was the memory of you and the thought of what it would be like to see you again. 

then one day… he ran into you at that cafe and you’ve been practically inseparable since. 

now you stand to be the one person in all of deepspace to make zayne completely and utterly lose his mind.

“keep quiet,” he said, pushing his pointer and middle finger down on your tongue. “bad girls don’t get to talk.”

you whine, the noise garbled by excess spit and his long digits. you wish you could say you were surprised that you’re even in this position, but you’re not. not shocked in the slightest.

you’d been teasing your busy boyfriend all week– sending him ‘i miss you’ texts, showing up to akso on your lunch wearing low cut tops and teasingly threatening to play with yourself if he didn’t fuck you soon. his last straw was when you sent him dirty pictures and videos of you doing that just that followed with a text that read:

fucking myself since you won’t do anything about it :/

it’s almost like you wanted zayne to turn you inside out with his cock…

and now here you were, fingers in your mouth, cock in your sopping cunt and a very, very angry zayne above you. 

“you think it’s okay to tease me? think it’s okay to send nasty videos of yourself while i’m at work, huh?” and he’s fucking you so hard that the bed creaks with every thrust. it hurts– the way his cock bruises your cervix– but in a way that has the knot in your belly drawing in and your gummy walls tightening around him.

your eyes roll back as drool seeps out of your mouth down his hand. you’d think this would bother him, him being your (nagging) doctor and all, but it doesn’t. he loves this. seeing you so messy and disheveled– mascara running down your face and your chin drenched with your saliva. he loves doing this to you,

he pulls his fingers out, watching you splutter with a smirk on his face. he leans in, grips your chin and makes you lock eyes with him. “this is what you wanted, isn’t it? you wanted to see me like this.”

you pant his name, softly, “zayne–” 

“answer me,” he demands, tilting your chin up all the while his dick drives into you deeper and deeper if it’s even possible. 

you cry, overstimulated.  “yes, wanted it s’bad! f-fuck, just wanted you to fuck me, zaynie,” 

he smiles cockily, shaking his head, “what a troublemaker.”

then you’re empty, your orgasm dissipating to nothing. 

you gasp at the abrupt action on his part. you sit up, your teary eyes widen in confusion, but he places his soft lip against your cheek and speaks before you can question him. 

“bad girls don’t get to cum either. we’ll talk when you stop being such a brat.”

#RAFAYEL: THE ONE WHO WORSHIPS YOU!

rafayel loves having sex with you. he’s enthralled by your beauty and body– you’re his muse after all. so it’s no surprise that he enjoys reminding you how fucking gorgeous you are while his cock spears in and out of you. 

you’re on your side and he’s behind you, chest pressed against your back where you can feel just how erratic his heart is beating. 

“so good for me, cutie,” he moans, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “so pretty ‘n perfect. god, you were just made to be worshipped.”

and it’s so overwhelming. every word, every praise, every single sound that slips past his swollen lips goes straight to your cunt and it merely spurs him on. the adoration never ceases. 

rafayel doesn’t fuck you fast. no, not today. today, he needs you to feel it. to feel every second of it, every inch of his cock. he needs you to feel the way his tip french kisses your cervix. it wouldn’t be right otherwise.

“r-raf,” you whimper, bringing your hand to tangle in his hair. you guide him to your pulse point and he smiles against your skin. “faster, please.”  

“you’re so demanding,” he teases as he sucks and nips at the thin skin until he knows there’s a splotchy, red spot left in his wake. 

“but it feels better like this, no?” he asks after giving you a particularly sharp thrust. “bet you can feel me everywhere, can’t you, princess?”

his lips move up, placing soft, wet kisses along your jaw and you turn your head slightly to capture his with yours. you mewl into his mouth, body pulling taut.

you’re close, you both know it. he’s been fucking you like this for what feels like hours and you’re all pent up. all you need is a little push to have you seeing sounds and hearing pretty colors.

and rafayel has studied your body. you’re the best thing the universe has ever created… his absolute favorite thing, so of course he has you memorized. it’s how he knows to snake his hand down to your swollen, neglected clit. 

you gasp, the sudden action sending shockwaves right through you. “right t-there, baby.”

“pfttt, duh,” he scoffs, slightly offended, giving you another rough thrust. “i already know, princess. you don’t have t’be so bossy. just make a mess for me, yeah?”

a few more thrusts is all it takes for you to give him what he wants. a choked sob slips out and you're drenching his cock in your slick, honey-like arousal. 

he smiles big and wide, eyes shining with more adoration. he whispers in your ear and it sends another shiver running down your heated spine.

“my pretty girl.”

#SYLUS: THE ONE THAT LIKES TO SWITCH! 

sylus is massive in every sense of the word. you’d think a man so domineering– the leader of onychinus– would have the filthiest sex, bending his girl every which way.

but… then you’d be wrong. so, very wrong. 

sylus has a reputation for being a big, bad wolf, but the truth? sylus is an absolute sucker for you. always at your beck and call. you want him to sit? he sits, proudly, with the slyest grin on his face. you want him to come over? he’s there in 30 minutes or less no matter what he’s doing or where he’s at.

you want to ride him and you don’t want him to touch you?

he nods his head obediently and says, “whatever you want, sweetie.”

it’s how you wind up sinking down on his throbbing cock and fucking him senseless. and, fuck, does sylus love every second of it. 

he’s so used to being in control, but with you? that’s not happening. he’s yours. mind, body and soul. he loves watching you take the reins even though you cutely struggle to take his girthy length at first. when he bottoms out, though, all he can think is that’s my fucking girl. 

despite your demands to keep his hands to himself, he’s obsessed. “h-hands off, sy. you know the rules.” you pant out, peeling his hot and heavy paws off of you. 

he all but moans– the sound you love pulling out of him the most. “you’re so cruel, baby.” he says, hooded, red eyes burning into yours.

you just smile, placing your hands back on his chest and bouncing up and down his cock like it was what you were made for. “you love it when i use you.”

he nods, and his next words come out a little slurred like he’s already pussydrunk. “love it bad, sweetheart.” 

you tighten around him, the affirmation encouraging you. 

your pulsating vice of a cunt has his brows furrowing and eyes rolling back. he longs to hold you, to feel your skin on his calloused hands.

but sylus has waited for you for lifetimes. he adores you. all he breathes is you. 

so he’ll do anything you say, whenever you say it. 

when you tell him to cum for you, to cum so deep inside of you that you’ll feel it for days… he does just that with a groan, fisting at the sheets so roughly that you swear you hear the faint sound of fabric tearing.

and the copious amount of warm seed that fills you to the brim triggers your own orgasm. it’s so intense that you’re clawing at his chest like the kitten he claims you are. you’re babbling on top of him, breathlessly going on and on saying, “love you, love you s’much, sy,” and “fuck me more, please,”

and he gives up all his restraint, grabbing your hips, flipping you over and filling you up all over again. 

#CALEB: THE ONE WHO CAN’T GET ENOUGH!

caleb has always loved you unconditionally. the time without you was unbearable– it changed him. he yearned like never before. he put every rom-com male to shame.

so, now that you’re back in his life– now that you’re finally his girl, he doesn’t waste time. 

his stamina is basically infinite when it comes to you. poor, pent up caleb has spent years upon years hiding his feelings from you and now it’s all coming out. 

literally. 

“more, you can take more, baby,” he whispers, eyes dilated and toned body layered in a sheen of sweat. “know you can take more.”

he doesn’t wait for your protest, not like you would, he just pins your legs back and watches his previous loads of cum seep out of your cunt with hearts in his eyes.

he uses his cock to scoop up his seed and he pushes back into you in one go thrust. 

“caleb,” you cry. 

he nearly growls. it’s so out of character that you’re almost concerned but then his raspy voice rings in your ears. “again.”

you cock your head to the side, “w-what?”

he grabs at the back your thighs, driving in and out of you with fervor. “fuck, pips… say it again. say my name, lemme know who’s fuckin’ ya this good.”

you practically feel him in your throat, let alone your battered, painted walls. he’s fucking you like he needs it to breathe. like if he doesn’t give you at least 2 more loads of cum, then he’ll just die. 

because… yeah, he just might. caleb can’t lose you ever again. he couldn’t bear it. he’d die for you and he’d be nothing without you. 

“cal-caleb!” you cry, tears streaming down your face as your hands press against his rock hard chest. “‘s too deep, caleb. ‘s too much!”

he moans himself, cock twitching uncontrollably. it’s not deep enough for caleb. he needs more, he needs you stuffed full 24/7. he needs you to be his forever. 

“i know, baby, i know.” he’s able to say even though the only thing he can hear in his unchaste brain is more, more, more, more. “fuck, i know, but you’ll take it for your caleb, right?”

you can’t. his words and the way his cock pistons in and out of you at the speed of light has your orgasm washing over you out of nowhere. you scream his name– so loud that it leaves your throat raw– as you gush all over his washboard abs, soaking him completely. 

caleb malfunctions, cumming with a stupidly loud whine as soon as he realizes you’ve squirted for him. 

he doesn’t even give either of you the chance to recuperate before he’s pleading.

“a-again… please, just one more, pips.” he lies. one will never be enough. 

“i just need ya s’bad.”