“y-yes, use me.” His hand comes up to your chin, grip trembling as he pulls you into a messy, desperate kiss, your lipstick smearing across his mouth. Your wedding dress is bunched at your waist, layers swallowing your husband-to-be as he pistons his hefty dick into you from below. You grind down into him, fingers tangled in his slicked-back hair, holding him there.

“hah—! how are you deeper than before?” you mewl, face in his neck, sucking marks into his heated skin. “can feel you s’deep…”

“you can, can’t you?” he bites back a sound only for it to rip through as a whimper. Your hot, gummy walls spasm around the whole of his length and his hand spreads across your back, holding you flush to him as his hips falter.

His cock twitches inside you before stilling. “on second thought, stay still.” he pulls away. “Let me move. We can’t have you getting too hot.”

He’s moving before you can nod. And all you can do is clutch him tight while his cock grinds into your cervix at each long stroke of his. Your knees dig into the strong muscles of his thighs.

“mmfuuck—!” you cry, eyes squeezing shut.

“spread your legs. We’ll ruin your dress.” His legs part, guiding you wider for him. and somehow, it gives him enough leverage to pull out of you alllll the way out and then bury himself to the hilt, dragging his thick cock over every sensitive inch of your walls in lewd schlick schlick schlicks despite the layers.

His hand disappears in your dress, fingers brushing over the lace garter around your thigh and then higher to part your soaked folds.

“w-wait I’m gonna cum.” You tell him. his pace grows desperate.

“mngh… don’t worry,” he pants, losing whatever composure he had left. “I am too.”

His thumb finds your clit, moving through your slick—down to your hole—where your puffy pussy lips are stretched around him to the limit—and back up to the throbbing bud.

waves of heat roll over your body as you cum with a silent cry. You feel him jump in you, balls tightening against your ass. “finish in me,” you tell him.

He lets out a strangled moan—unable to muster up the composure to protest—spurting jets of warmth in you, pumping you full of his load. Your spasming cunt wriiings out every last drop of release.

He pulls your face close to his, nose bumping with yours as you come down together. He places a small, shy kiss on the bridge of your nose.

“shall we go get married now?”

CALEB XIA ☆

It was supposed to be right. And it was—on paper. It was a wedding ripped right out of the cheesy dramas you binge. except. Your hair didn’t get the memo. Your bridesmaids sat helpless while you handled it in tears—only to toss the curling wand away.

“heyy, what’s wrong?” caleb invites himself in the room. The women step out immediately.  Screw the not-seeing-the-bride-before-the-wedding bad luck. This was bad enough.

You sniffle, pressing your face into his chest. “caleb it’s all falling apart…” you look up at him with teary eyes and before you can even stop yourself, your lips crash against his.

“fuck baby—you’re extra soft today, mm?” his long cock pummels into you. his hand reaches down, peeling away a layer of your dress. “hold it up f’me, pips.”

You’ve clutching the thick layers against your chest like your life depends on it while your fiancé absolutely obliterates your leaky cunt one thrust at a time. “s-slow down ‘leb…” you whimper, back arched like a bow for him.

“slow down? how do you plan on making it on time to our wedding?” he chuckles, leaning down to spread your swollen, slick coated pussy lips to reveal your pulsing little bud for him. he drools at the sight. And doesn’t let it go to waste. His warm spit lands on your aching bud, trickling down to mix with the juices you ooze out.

He watches the way your poor, overstretched cunny still manages to swallow him—and god he knows he’s too big for you but look at you. tears prickling at your eyes, whimpering under him dressed in white to be married to him. how on earth did he get so lucky?

“m’so clooose—!” you whine, thighs attempting to press together.

“good god, pips. Y’look so pretty round my cock…” he groans. His hand curls around your thighs hiking it up, letting his fat cockhead drill its way into your sinfully soft channel. His thumb brushes against your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, making you yelp beneath him.

it doesn’t take long for you to finish, clamping around him in wet pulses that his eyes rolling to the back of his skull. Still, he keeps moving. He keeps pounding you through that vision blanking orgasm, until you’re practically sobbing under him.

“mmf—please… s’too much—hic!” and still, you make no attempt to escape. You’re exactly where you want to be—your overstimmed pussy being bullied into another orgasm.

“jus’ like that, keep clamping baby. I’m right there…” he pants, leaning down to kiss a tear away. “you’ll let me cum in you, right? Let caleb stuff you full?”

“y-yes! yes please—oh?!” His dirty talk alone tips you over the edge again, milking him for his release. And he does. Ropes after ropes after ropes of hot, creamy cum pumping into your pussy.

And when you finally calm, he gathers your hair, fixing it into an elegant low bun—murmuring quiet “thank you”s through sniffles for marrying him.

XAVIER SHEN ☆

“I couldn’t sleep either.” You jolt at your fiancé’s voice behind you. You’re ecstatic. And in that excitement, you were dressed and ready before time. In 5 hours, the wedding you dreamed of begins. an early morning ceremony, walking the aisle under stars, sealing it with a kiss as sunlight finally breaks.

The venue lies hushed as you stand together on the balcony, gazing down at the flowered arch where you’ll soon be married.

“xav—ngh!” you grip the railing harder. Your pussy moulds so perfectly around your fiance’s cock, stretched obscenely wide.

His hand reaches around your throat to tip your chin up to have you watch the place you’d soon say vows at. “a-are you sure this will help you sleep?” his voice sounds too normal for his actions.

He’s nearly jackhammering into your velvety hole, causing it to squelch and ooze more of your love juices down your thighs. His foot nudges your legs farther apart, the need to drill deeper into you consuming him enough to bury his face in your hair and groan low.

“mmhm, mhm ye—ah!” you nod, hips pushing back to meet his deep pounding. “don’t want eye bags.”

By the pace at which he’s ramming into your pussy heat, you can already imagine it—imagine yourself walking toward him with shaky legs, his cum still leaking down your thighs. Fuck. There’s no way you were going to clean up after your session. Your legs are quivering at this point, held apart only by his knee.

“alright,” he murmurs, halting entirely. You bite back a whine. “keep them pressed if you want it that way.” He pulls out. His fingers find your gaping hole, two plunging in to coax out translucent strings of your arousal and his pre cum, smearing it between your thighs. And that’s when you feel the fat head of his cock again—pushing its way where your plush thighs press the tightest, and yet, making sure that your swollen clit isn’t left out.

“you keep looking at the arch,” he leans in, one of his hands guiding his cock between your syrupy slit. Your thighs press harder. You’re so close but there’s no way you’re cumming empty like this. He lets out a chuckle, soft enough to be mistaken as innocent. “are you going to cum to the thought of our wedding?”

He breaches your puffy lips again, sliding in with ease with the lewd amount of slick gathered there. “filthy girl… I’m right.” His hand presses down on your lower back, arching you for him as he buries himself balls-deep.

“oh! Hic—just… just let me cum, already!” you clamp around him, all the obscene ideas making your pussy walls stir.

Xavier’s fingers spread your ass cheeks for him and he sinks deeper than ever. You let out a choked sob—very close to rutting your needy clit against the glass if he keeps you on edge any longer. “it’s okay. I’m thinking of that too,”

He pinches your clit once and that has you creaming around his pulsing length. Your pussy clamping around him like heartbeat has him finishing too, keeping you plugged like that for a moment until you come down from the high.

“there’s no way I can sleep after this,” you pout. Xavior huffs out a fond laugh behind you.

“pfft okay, we’ll take a long nap together after the wedding,”

RAFAYEL QI ☆

You wanted to give him something unforgettable for your wedding—something truly special, because he’s been certain about marrying you for as long as you can remember. No exaggeration. And you knew simple nudes wouldn’t cut it.

Until an evil idea pops in your mind. You were no stranger to his “bride kink”. So why don’t you just play with that?

“fuckfuckfuck cutiieee,” he whines pathetically.

his eyes are snapped shut. All he can do is push his stuttering hips flush against yours, feeding your leaking cunt more of his stout inches—all while holding your dress as far away as he can from the mess. Your hole pulses, dribbling out a mixture of your cream and his pre cum that his angry red head can’t stop spilling.

“mngh you’re suuuch an angel—hah!” he grips your thighs, holding them apart as he destroys your overstimulated cunt. “such an angel for letting me fuck this pretty pussy in your wedding dress babymmff—”

He’s made you cum several times—on the pink muscle in his filthy mouth, his slender fingers and even on his pretty cock. And yet, he hasn’t finished once—holding back for lord knows what.

“ra-raf s’enough already!” you whine. It only spurs him more—he buries himself to the hilt, nudging your spongy spot, now swollen from his cruel overstimulation. “we’re gonna be late. Just cum!” your hips chase his as he pulls back and then with a lewd schliiick, slides back home.

“I know I know,” he rasps out too quickly. He’s flushed, dazed. Delirious. And god help you, it’s pushing you closer to that delicious edge. “wanna hold it out. Wanna tattoo the patterns of your pussy walls onto my dick,”

You let out a groan at that, walls fluttering around him in response. He starts moving once again. long brutal strokes, massaging you perfectly, warming you for yet another orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum…” you tell him, your hand coming down to rub your clit. He frowns before swatting your hand away with a pout, replacing it with his.

“me too,” he says fucking finally. “m’gonna fill my pretty little bride up.” he angles his cock to your sweet spot, making you cum so hard that you see stars.

“ohhh baby fuck—!” he groans deep, hips faltering as he spills into you. “take my cum, my pretty bride. Love feeding your womb…” he pumps his load into you, as deep as your body can take it. Until he begins to melt—

you nearly kick him away before he can start again.

“ow! What was that for?” he looks down, momentarily admiring the trail of white dribbling from your hole before he jumps to his feet.

“uh-oh uh-oh!” he grabs a rag and cleans you up in time.

And later, as you walk down the aisle toward him, you both can’t stop breaking into ugly, snotty laughter at the memory.

SYLUS QIN ☆

“boss lady!”

“boss-man’s back!”

The only downside to marrying the leader of Onychinus was the interruptions—even on your wedding day. You believed Sylus when he said you wouldn’t have to dirty your dress over “pests,” that he’d handle it himself. Still, that didn’t stop you from pacing, restless as you waited for him to return.

“how scandalous,” he lets out a rumble of laugh as you fuck yourself on his impossibly fat dick. “my fiancé ravaging her husband-to-be while our guests outside wait for us to be wed,”

“consummating our marriage before we’re even ma—"

“mmffuck! B-be quiet, sylus.” His cockhead brushes against your sweet spot and you keep him there, grinding.

His fingers hook under the blindfold to see that fucked out expression on your face that only his dick manages to poke out of you. “do-don’t! keep it on.” You swat his hand away. He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I can’t see you before the ceremony but you can fuck me? you’re only following rules that are conveni—” you silence him with a kiss, teeth sinking into his plump lower lip. He hisses, before kissing you fervently, holding you still as he pistons his cock into you, just where you want it. You sob into his mouth—all which he happily swallows.

He flips the two of you. “sylus don’t take it—”

“mm im hurt, kitten. do you truly think i need to see you to fuck you proper?” with that, he’s dragging you to his hips, sheathing himself back into you.

“sy o-oh!” your voice cracks as you let out a scream—too far gone to care about the people murmuring outside. “m’gonna cum,”

Sylus leans down, his hot breath fanning over your temple. “I know you were worried. But we are getting married.” He promises, his pace slowing to deep, long thrusts—still managing to knock the air out of your lungs. You sob out, nodding in agreement. “right after I make you cream,”

His hips slam into yours, each thrust punching out choked sounds out of you. his fingers find your clit, gathering all that syrup you’ve dribbled for him. and ohhh the way he touches you down there is nothing short of obscene. A stark contrast to your perfect, innocent white wedding dress you’re getting fucked in.

He massages your pussy lips, fingers moving from your wide-stretched hole, to your clit and back down. he parts your slit only to close your puffy pink lips back around his length as he spears into you with reckless abandon.

Your back feels like it snapped in two as you finish, chanting his name. one more thrust into your juicy, quivering hole has him pumping his thick load into you.

“am I to marry you in this?” he plays with the edge of the cloth over his eyes, still huffing.  

“touch it again and you will,”

“ugh. zayne! you’re a heart doctor, not a hip doctor or whatever! i’m fine,” you snap instead, cheeks heating at his tone.

he tilts his head, that small, knowing smile tugging at his lips like he understands exactly why you’re flustered.

“right,” he says, soft and teasing. “because i definitely need to be a hip doctor to know that twisting your spine every night is a bad idea.”

before you can protest again, he shifts closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. the mattress dips under his weight. “tell you what,” he murmurs. “we’ll compromise.”

you watch interested as he eases himself down beside you. one arm slips around your waist. “you want comfy? we’ll do comfy without ruining your back.”

he gently guides your bent leg, lifting it just enough to rest it over his waist instead of having it twisted outward. his movements are unhurried, practiced, like he's done this a hundred times already.

“see? same idea. less strain.”

you gulp.

he was right. of course he was.

the subtle shift in your expression and the slight tension melting away from your frame, makes his smirk grow into a proper smile.

his hand is still on your leg, fingers tracing slow, absent paths along the underside of your thigh. the motion is soothing, almost absent minded.

“told you,” he murmurs. “you have to listen to me more, sweetie.”

you give in begrudgingly, “okay doctor zayne...”

he chuckles, low and warm, tugging you just a little closer.

“that’s better,” he teases, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“only took one lecture this time.”

you huff, but don't pull away. he knows it means you’re giving in.

he grins, lips grazing the top of your shoulder, as he adjusts your leg slightly, shifting it so it rests more comfortably over him. his other hand finds the small of your back, fingers pressing gently into the tenser spots.

“see?” he hums softly, massaging the sore spots carefully. “much better.”

it’s easy to sink into the touch, his movements are familiar, his hands so warm that you close your eyes, a small noise escaping you.

“mmh... i won’t lay like that ever again if we can do this every night,” you say breathily.

the gentle kneading of his fingers on your back pauses just long enough for him to respond.

“oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. “i was planning on doing this anyway.”

he punctuates the remark by pressing firmer, his hand running along your spine, finding and relieving the most stubborn knots.

“that means we—ah—both need to get home early from work from now on.”

“mmm,” he hums in agreement, working his way down your back to the small of it. “which means,” he continues, voice low and teasing, “you might want to be a little less stubborn at the office.” he finds a particularly tense muscle and rubs it gently, drawing a small sign from you. “you know you can't keep working till midnight every day.”

you gasp dramatically, “says you, doctor zayne!”

he grins, unbothered, fingertips tracing lazy circles.

“exactly,” he says, more smug than he should be. “this doctor prescribes both of us earlier bedtimes.” leans down, lips brushing your shoulder again. “with benefits.”

“oh...” you breathe out against his shoulder. “and what do these benefits include other than laying like this and a massage?”

he chuckles again. the sound rumbles through his chest, sending tremors through you.

“you want a more benefits?” he murmurs, lips tracing along your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

his thumb slips under the hem of your top, tracing a slow, languid line against your bare skin.

you sigh shakily.

“stop teasing, husband.”

his hands continue moving slow, as if to spite your demand.

“oh sweetheart…” he hums, his touch trailing across your thigh now. his fingers dip lower, teasing the edge of your sleep shorts. “do you think i could ever resist teasing my stubborn little wife?”

you try not to let the words get a rise out of you because you want him.

and you want him now.

“is this position still good for my hip alignment?” you smile coyly.

his gaze darkens.

“oh hah. i’ll show you a position good for your hips.” your breath hitches as he shifts, above you, hooking both your legs around his waist. “this?” he murmurs, voice dropping low and rough. “spine and hips aligned and stable... very good for your body.”

and then he crashes his lips onto yours.

it’s hard and urgent, full of weeks of suppressed desire—the two of you hadn't been able to make love for weeks, after all. too tired after getting home from work, schedules unaligned.

you feel his grip tighten on your thighs as he drags you against him, his touch almost desperate. he kisses you like he needs to touch every part of you, to consume you completely.

your hands find their way into his hair, pulling just enough to earn a low growl from deep in his throat. “zayne-” you gasp out, breath mingling with his. “please.”

he groans, giving in completely—mouth trailing down your neck, hands sliding under your top to peel it off.

“god, i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, skin now flush with heat.

he leans back just enough to pull his own shirt over his head, and when he lowers himself back over you, the warmth of his bare chest sealing any space between you.

“tell me what you want,” he whispers against your lips.

you groan, throwing your head back in frustration, gripping at his muscled back. “don't make be beg.”

you attempt to grind against his bulge, and he hisses.

he rolls his hips against you but he still wants to hear you say it—to admit how badly you've been craving this as much as he has.

his lips brush the sensitive skin below your ear, voice low and ragged.

“why not?” he teases. “you know how much i love it when you beg.”

“fine...” you whine, “please- please just fuck me—”

he grunts, the sound igniting a fire inside you. he leans forward, lips brushing your earlobe, his free hand drifting along your waist.

“there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

and then he's peeling off your sleep shorts.

the sound of the material hitting the floor seems far too loud in the quiet of the room, but it's a distant thought as he kisses his way down your body, taking his sweet, sweet time.

“missed this so much.” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin, fingers skimming across the sensitive flesh of your stomach.

he hooks your knees over his shoulders, lips curving up in a smile as he looks up at you. “missed you so much.”

“ngh—zayne...”

you watch with half lidded eyes as he presses a kiss to your soaked panties, making you jolt.

he grins up at you, enjoying the sight of you trembling.

“hmm… this position is even better for you.”

you can only moan softly.

“so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes dark with desire. “all mine.” he slowly drags the fabric down your legs, watching your expressions, loving the way you squirm in anticipation. “don't worry,” he drawls, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your inner thighs. “i’ll take care of you first.”

a soft hum vibrates through you as he finally, finally tastes you. he goes slowly, as he tongues you like he’s savoring every second.

“zayne!” you cry out, back arching off the bed.

he doesn’t stop, doesn’t speed up. his tongue traces slow circles onto your throbbing clit, one hand pinning your hip down to keep you from bucking too much.

“shh,” he murmurs against your skin, voice thick, “let me love you properly.”

you want to respond that he always loves you properly anyway, but the retort dies when his tongue laps at you with maddening patience, each stroke drawing out a whimper.

“so sweet,” he breathes between kisses along your slick heat. “always so ready for me.” one hand slips up to pinch a nipple through your bra, making you gasp. “tell me how close you are already.”

“ahhn! so— so close! fuck-”

his eyes gleam with satisfaction. he loves getting you flustered, loves seeing you lose yourself like this.

he doesn’t say anything now, just focuses on you, making you come undone. his lips tease, tongue flicking over your sensitive nub before gently nipping it.

“want you to come for me, sweetheart.” he murmurs, his nose brushing against your clit as he laps at your entrance.

you can sense the urgency in his voice. he wants to please you, wants you to feel good. he wants it. needs it.

his tongue slides lower, swirling at your entrance before circling back to your clit—finally faster now.

“come for me,” he growls. “i wanna taste it.”

and when you do, it’s with a cry of his name and trembling legs he holds tight in his grasp.

he takes his time licking and kissing you through your orgasm, his movements gentling as he helps you ride it out.

only when you’re boneless and trembling does he pull back, lips glistening with you, a satisfied smile on his face.

“you okay?” he murmurs, fingers tracing along your flushed cheeks.

“mhm...” you nod vigorously, already aching for him all over again. “fuck me now, please...”

he chuckles.

the way you're looking at him—dazed, wanting, and needy—sends a pulse straight to his already hard cock.

“i believe the correct expression is make love, darling.”

you bite your lip and he licks his.

he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him.

“you really can't wait, can you?” he murmurs against your mouth, pushing his bottoms down and already guiding himself to your slick entrance.

one slow thrust and he’s inside. deep, hot, and perfect.

you gasp his name like a prayer.

“that’s it,” he groans, burying his face in your neck.

you can feel him everywhere, every part of you connected. the stretch feels even bigger after the long weeks. your arms wrap around his neck, legs tightening around his hips as if you’re scared he’ll pull away.

“zayne,” you moan his name into his ear, nails digging into his back. you don’t usually ask, content with the pace he sets, but now, in this moment, you need him more than anything.

“harder. please.”

he complies immediately, each thrust driving you deeper into the mattress, your cries muffled against his shoulder.

“god—you feel so good,” he grits out, one hand sliding under you to lift your hips higher, taking him even deeper.

your body trembles, already coiling tight again, he's hitting your sweet spot just right like he’s never left it.

“zayne— i’m-” you start to warn him but he silences you with a kiss that steals your breath.

“come for me again,” he demands softly against your lips. “let go.”

you shatter around him, a silent scream on your lips as your body clenches tight, wave after wave crashing through you.

he holds you through it, his thrusts turning erratic, almost desperate.

“mgh— i can’t—” he chokes out, burying his face in your neck as he follows you over the edge, spilling deep inside with a low groan.

for a long moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and racing hearts.

then he rolls to the side gently, pulling you with him so you're tucked against his chest.

“i love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “don't ever forget that.”

“i love you, too,” you breathe. and then you smile, after a moment, still dazed but coming to your senses. “thank you for the corrections doctor.”

he snorts softly, actually snorts, burying his face in your hair.

“you’re insufferable.” he mutters, but there’s no real heat in his tone.

he pulls you closer, one arm wrapped around your waist, putting your leg over his waist the same way this began.

“anything for my favorite patient.”

masterlist | open taglist!