Renala

Your living room was empty now. The throw blanket sat balled up at one end of the couch, still warm, still carrying that earthy scent that clung to him. You figured he'd finally given up trying to get comfortable and left for home.

Things had been tight between you two for weeks — not bad tight, just like the kind that builds when you're close to someone in every way but one. Curling up next to him on that couch last night, close enough to feel him breathing, had taken more out of you than you wanted to admit. You'd gone to your own bed after and tossed for hours, finally giving up and finishing yourself off against your pillow just to get some sleep.

You grabbed the folder off the counter, shoved it in your bag, turned toward the door already dreading the way back to work.

Your foot stopped.

Through the crack in your bedroom door came a sound — low, cut off at the edges like it hadn't meant to get out. A hitch of breath, rough with something needy.

You don't move. For a few long seconds you just stand there, blood rushing in your ears, telling yourself you imagined it. Then it comes again—louder, unmistakable. A deep, broken whine bleeding through the door, underneath it the slow, rhythmic creak of your mattress.

Something hot drops straight to your navel.

Your feet move before you decide to let them, carrying you to the gap where the door hinges open. You don't need to push it. You can see everything

Valko is on your bed, completely stripped of the restraint he usually carries around you.

On all fours, every muscle in his back straining with each roll of his hips. Both your pillows are underneath him. One is pinned between his thick, heavy thighs. The other is crushed against his chest like he's holding onto it for dear life.

The fat tip of his cock is already leaking clear precum, smearing wetly against the fabric with every thrust. The muscles of his ass bunch and flex rhythmically, his tail swishing low and frantic from side to side, brushing against his calves like he can't control it.

His nose is buried deep into one specific corner of the pillow, taking big lunges of air—sniffing the hell out of it. Strands of saliva string from his parted lips, his eyes are squeezed shut so tight his eyelashes tremble. He looks like he's desperately trying to engrave that scent into the deepest part of his memory.

The heat that floods your face is scorching and mortifying.

That's where you'd been last night. Grinding against that exact spot, face buried in your own sheets with his name stuck in your throat, thinking thoughts you'd never planned on anyone knowing about. He has his nose pressed right there. Breathing you in like it's the first clean air he's found in days.

The hallway feels like it's closing in. You can't move. The folder is shaking in your hand and you can't make yourself look away.

Valko moves his hips down again and the groan that tears out of him is nothing like his usual voice. It's scraped raw, stripped of every careful thing he usually puts between himself and the world.

"Fuck—" The word drags out of him slow and broken. His face presses deeper into the pillow, lips parting against the fabric, inhaling so hard it pulls into his mouth. "Smells so good. So fucking sweet"

Your stomach drops.

When he pulls back to thrust again you get an unobstructed view of him, and your mouth goes dry. He's huge, veins mapping his cock in thick ridges, the head flushed a deep red and slick with everything he's been leaking onto your pillow.

"There you go," he breathes, eyes still squeezed shut, hips rolling down in a slow, grinding push. He's talking to the pillow. He's talking to you—or the idea of you, the ghost of you he's got his hands on. "Take it just like that. Let me get all the way inside that pretty cunt, puppy."

He makes that sound again—a high, needy whine that has no business coming out of something so big—and his ears flatten tight against his skull. His rhythm stutters, slow grinds breaking into something harder and more desperate, the whole bed frame groaning with it.

"Such a good pup," he mutters, tail thrashing wild against the mattress, fingers curling into your pillow. His voice is getting rougher, darker, words spilling out like he can't stop them. "Gonna stretch you out so nice. Fill you up with everything I've been—" A sharp, punched out groan. "You'd take it, wouldn't you? Every single bit of it."

His thighs grip the pillow tightly, his whole body going rigid as he grinds down and holds it there. His knuckles are stark white, fingers curled past the point of grip, something closer to desperation made physical. You can see the effort it's taking him to hold back. Every thick vein along the back of his hands stands out in rigid relief, branching up his wrists, mapping the strain all the way to where his forearms flex with each movement.

With every snap of his hips the tension climbs higher. Up his biceps and across his broad shoulders, the whole architecture of him pulled tight. He is holding the pillow like letting go for even a second would mean losing the last thread of you he has access to.

Like if his grip slips, your scent goes with it.

His hands have never looked like this. You've seen them steady holding a weapon, calm giving an order, certain in every situation that called for certainty. Right now they're shaking slightly. Not from weakness.

But from the effort of not having the real thing.

The ache between your thighs is unbearable and the urge hits you like something physical, pressing into your sternum until your body stops listening to your brain entirely. You want to tell him yes. You want to walk into that room and pull those pillows out from under him and put yourself there instead.

Your foot moves forward one step.

That's all it takes. The tiny shift in air carries your scent right through the gap in the door—laced now with the edge of your arousal—and delivers it straight to him.

Valko goes completely still.

His ears snap upright, swiveling toward the door, and his head follows a half second later. Through the narrow crack his eyes find yours instantly, pupils blown so wide the gold of his irises is almost gone. The room sits heavy with the smell of sex and the sound of both of you breathing.

He doesn't cover himself and your eyes drop without your permission.

The sight of you watching him—your scent hitting him fresh and full—is what does it. You watch it happen. His cock swells further, skin pulled tight, a low growl tearing out of his chest and his hips give one last involuntary roll forward.

He cums with his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He stares straight through the gap in the door, unblinking, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes your legs feel unreliable, as the first thick streak of white paints your pillow. Another spasm rolls through him, another rope of cum landing heavy over the exact spot your scent had soaked into the fabric last night. Over and over until the last bead clings to the tip and stretches thin before finally dropping.

His chest heaves and his tongue drags slowly across his lower lip and then his canines like he's tasting the air. His tail gives one long, heavy thump against the mattress.

He's still staring a hole right through you.

​You are completely fucked.

And while we're here @ekay-i .... PLEASE🙏🏻. Valko deserves a spot in the pillow humpers art. i am begging on my knees 🧎🏻‍♀️🫣

Zayne - yeah he’s a doctor. a cardiac surgeon at that. so like wouldn’t it be situational irony if he got autistic burnout in college Haha and his parents urge him to get help but the campus psychiatrist just throws study drugs at him. and he’s like “this is medical misconduct😐” lol if only he knew what was in store… but anyways he takes his dose for the first time because he wanted a taste of the average and suddenly! the urge to give himself pre-diabetes is gone?? granted he doesn’t wanna eat much of anything but who needs to eat when you’re working 25/8?

- his classmates thought he was a genius before? now they can say hello to a future asclepius. he takes his dosage diligently… before bedtime. it’s instant release, meant to “take as needed”, so where’s the problem? he knows exactly what the problem is, but he chose this profession for a reason, damnit, and its not like his teeth could be saved anyways. one day he decides he misses sleep and and foregoes a dose and the crash the next day is WILD. he misses class for the first time EVER. and he never does a controlled substance ever again.

Rafayel

- rafayel is an artist so im going to perpetuate the stereotypes and say he overdoes it with psychedelics. canon event for creatives going through a block. infold was being stingy with the nitty gritty but half of those episodes where he stayed up for days on end until his vision blurred were actually acid-fueled benders. I mean.. the way the game described some of his paintings sounded like giant LSD prints anyways. instead of the "ego death" grown man discovers empathy for the first time, memories from his previous incarnations overwhelm him all at once but it's ok it keeps the emptiness away and its back to the drawing board. he actually gets so locked in when he's on shrooms who needs the tome of the sea god when he's the sea himself? ...don't let him go for a swim. - mayhaps when he first started painting on land he was so unused to all the harsh chemicals he'd inadvertently get himself super loopy. I still maintain him smoking would be hot asf but I guess infold indirectly disproved that and yk what? I understand he wouldn't take that risk for his lungs. he would, however, do the "take edibles and go to the aquarium" date with you. - I wouldn't say it's comparable to sylus, because raf gets drunk ez. but I think rafayel has a. complicated? relationship with alcohol. his mentor figure? "while he drank, I just stood outside and watched the world go by..." yeesh! there's obviously something Heavy there, in the way he talked about him. Banquet Ablaze gently freaked me out in general, when they were over that cliff, or when they fell into the ocean in the rain. fishie is actually my fav dude after my mains but realistically I think we'd get way too mopey like you wanna drown together bet! don't get me started on Oceanic Nightfall, when he was drinking to mask through the social event, then crashed in his tub. ooh rafayel I love you but you would do NUMBERS outside of your genre dude teenagers would larp as you on twt I know it.

Sylus

- every successful businessman does cocaine. mr. Love and Deepspace is your sophisticated record-collecting bibliophile pedantic snob of a man and he also does coke along with his business partners at nightclubs he owns. i mean he’s tasteful with it it’s not like he’s snorting a line off of a strippers' ass. i'm not suggesting onychinus deals in drugs or anything… just that he’s very thorough about its composition.

- i know he has an extensive liquor collection. we’ve already seen he owns a winery and fucks inside his winery. there's an interaction in destiny cafe that was poorly translated in english, yet made it clear mans has quite the tolerance. again, it could just nearly be passed off as social drinking. its not his fault it takes him longer to get there, right? (lol) he doesn’t even realize he’s got a problem until MC points it out. and i’ve noticed people get so mad when you suggest he smokes but idc he’ll always smell a bit like clove cigars to me. i mean his singing voice can’t get any worse right..? and like. he can just heal up his lungs anyways yeah… yall are missing the potential of a dragon doing the dragon exhale.

Caleb

- if i was caleb i would be shooting up heroin everyday but that’s just me haha. he’s an adrenaline junkie and he and MC probably go to raves together. its cute he hoists her up on his shoulders covers her ears when it gets too loud. and they also party with their friend molly sometimes... as a treat. you’d think caleb would go daddy mode on her and never let her touch anything beyond a natty light but that’s actually exactly what he’s doing yk like when your parents would say you could drink but only in front of them.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Based on some dialogues from the event.

Twitter

the words echo something from just twenty minutes earlier—when you’d taken your first drag of the joint he rolled, all nerves and inexperience. the way the smoke hit your lungs too hard, how you spluttered and coughed, eyes watering. just like this. just like having your mouth wrapped around him, overwhelmed by his weight and heat.

he’d laughed then—lazy, fond and devastatingly cute. “you can take it, pips, can’t you?” the drawl of it had gone straight to your core, molten and slow. and when you coughed again, throat burning from the weed, his laughter only deepened, warm and teasing, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

caleb made it easier for you. he took the joint from your hands and murmured, “c’mere—come closer.”

you did as you were told, scooting closer to him. you watched in awe, hypnotized by the way he brought the joint to his lips, inhaled, and held it there. his free thumb pulled at your plush bottom lip, and he parted your mouth as he leaned in.

your eyes widened in shock, a soft whimper slipping out when he blew a thick puff of smoke into your mouth, his lips a single millimeter away from yours.

“breathe it in,” he whispered. and you did—there was nothing you wouldn’t do when caleb talked to you like that. nothing you wouldn’t do for caleb in general. 

“‘n out f’me.”

you blew the smoke out and watched the white puff fan across his pretty face.

“gooood girl,” he murmured, and his tone made your stomach tighten. the thumb resting on your bottom lip tugged gently at the muscle, and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you—but instead, he spoke softly, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it, yeah?”

when you nodded dumbly, he pulled back and brought the joint to his lips again, inhaling before letting the smoke drift into the air, secretly wishing it had been in your mouth instead. he continued to guide you after that, watching your intake, teaching you how to take small, careful hits since you weren’t used to it yet.

and once you got the hang of it—he’d been right. it was easy. you were both out of your minds, somewhere far, far away from earth. your eyes had fallen closed, but his… his stayed on you. he watched every small movement you made, his gaze constantly drifting back to your lips. he scooted closer, and his thumb found your mouth again.

“hmm?” you hummed lazily.

the sound made something in him tighten. he couldn’t help himself—his thumb slipped past your lips, and your eyes flew open as wide as they could in your hazy state. still, instinct took over. you wrapped your lips around his digit and sucked, slow and thoughtless, like it was the joint all over again.

“lemme show you how to do something else…” he whispered, a gentle yet predatory glimmer shining in his high eyes.

and now you’re here. your bloodshot eyes peer up at him and he watches as the tears spill down your face. he looks hazy to you, partially because of your current cognitive state and partially because of the tears on your lash line. “ca-caleb,” you slur out, dragging out the vowels in his name . “‘s too big—too much.” 

he just chuckles, “yeah? it’s too big?” he asks, a hint of condescension in his voice and you feel pathetic for the way it makes butterflies in your stomach erupt. “poor baby doesn’t know how to smoke or suck dick…” he jokes, voice cooing. 

“caleb,” you pout. “you’re being mean…”

“you haven’t even seen me mean, pips,” he murmurs, the words honest and low—because you haven’t. you’ve never met caleb’s true self, never touched the depth of what coils inside him. you don’t even know half of what he feels for you, and that’s the most dangerous part. “open your mouth—i’ll teach you how to suck me off, too. that’s what friends are for right?” 

the lopsided grin on his droopy face does nothing to soften the blow of his words. your pussy twitches needily as arousal soaks right through your underwear and begins to sodden your shorts. 

you open your mouth and he laces his fingers through your hair, pushing you right on to his throbbing length. he moans prettily when your lips successfully meets the base of his cock. he holds you there for a second—or five—feeling your throat constrict around him. when he pulls you back you’re fully crying, strings of saliva connecting you to his spit soaked cock. 

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he chokes out, his grip in your hair tightening. “look at you, just so pretty like this—all for me, hm?”

you feel the weight of his hands guiding your head, slow and insistent. your limbs are heavy—heavier than they should be—your body humming as the weed sinks deeper into your bloodstream, blood thrumming hot beneath your skin. but the ache that usually lives in your pussy is sharper now, need curling tighter in your belly.

you want him on your tongue again. badly.

you slip from his grasp, your hand closing around his thick length as you draw him back to your mouth, lips parting around just the tip. your hips rock aimlessly and without thought, chasing friction—chasing relief—slick and desperate against nothing at all. your moans turn soft and broken around him, little whimpers that send a jolt through his body, and he throbs hard against your tongue in response.

“god, you feel s-so good, pips.” he whimpers and your cunt gushes another wave of arousal. it only encourages you to take him further. you drop your hand and take him deeper into your mouth. you ignore the way your throat pushes him out, gagging in favor of releasing him. anything to hear the clipped moans coming from your best friend's mouth. “shit—ugh, baby—baby, please.”

you gag again and again, fighting for control, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose until caleb yanks you off him by your hair. your scalp burns at the sudden pull—you’re coughing hard, chest heaving as you gasp for air. tears sting your eyes while he pumps himself furiously just inches from your face, the sight dizzying and all too overwhelming.

“gonna cum, pretty girl,” he grunts, the sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest all raw and strained. he slaps his cock against your cheek and you let off a desperate moan, “open wide.”

you stick your tongue out and patiently await for his load, your body wound tight, aching for him. 

he throws his head back and moans your name loud enough that there’s an echo that rattles your entire body. then come the ribbons of cum, thick and hot and almost never ending as they dress your face, missing your mouth completely. his entire body shakes like crazy as his orgasm rocks him. 

he’s breathless when his eyes finally crack open, and there you are—pretty, wrecked and painted like you’ve stepped straight out of one of the countless dreams he’s had about you.

his cock doesn’t soften. if anything, the sight of you high and covered in cum makes him harder. his breathing turns rough as his hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze up. a low, almost manic chuckle slips from him when he sees the hunger still burning in your eyes. carnal desire behind hazy eyes. 

“you’re a quick learner, pips.” he whispers, grip tightening in a way that makes you whimper. “what do ya say you teach me how to make you feel good now? or should i roll another joint first?”

kit says… HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FUCKING BABY @stonedxia. i adore u to the moon and back—you always have my back when i need u and i just lobe you so so much. ur one of my favorite people on this earth and i pray u never ever go bald and that happiness and caleb find u in every lifetime. i hope u have an amazing day!! pls cum over and cum on me <3 p.s. i really hope u like this i am genuinely so terrified…. it’s not my finest work but i made it longer than usual just 4 u

“i didn’t realize you were into amateur adult films, sweetie.” he drawls nonchalantly, like his cock isn’t aching for your touch. but you can sense an edge that isn’t typically there. 

you stammer on an excuse, feeling your face burn in mortification at having been caught retweeting porn on your alt account. “i—it’s… well, i-it’s not what it looks like.”

“yeah? because it looks like you want to use me… just like this.” he stalks towards you and waves the phone in your face, a small smile pulling at his lips. “is that true? you want to tie me to a chair, blindfold me and have your way with me?”

you pull your lip between your teeth, gnawing at the flesh anxiously. you avert your eyes, staring at your sock clad feet before you feel his fingers tip your chin up and force you to look him in the eye. 

“c’mon, sweetheart. you’ll tell me, won’t you?” he murmurs, thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. 

“yes,” you respond, throat dry and voice wavering in lack of confidence. “i want to have my way with you.”

he gives you a wolfish grin and all he says is, “okay then.”

—

you never thought you’d see sylus like this. in a chair with rope wrapped around his torso and one of his silk ties covering his eyes. there’s a permanent smirk plastered on his face and it makes you buzz with excitement. 

“don’t make me wait for so long, kitten.” he drawls, his cock bobbing up and down in dire need of attention. 

you grab his neck, tipping his face up and pressing your lips against his for a sloppy kiss. you push your tongue into his mouth, savoring the deep groan that rumbles in his throat. the kiss doesn’t last long—you pull away just as he starts to get needy, watching how he chases your lips with a growl.

your hand trails down his chest, squeezing at his peck before turning around, back facing him, and grabbing his cock. a small gasp of surprise fills the room right before it’s replaced with the sound of your paired moans as you sink onto his cock. 

“shit,” he curses, the word coming out breathless. his hands itch to grab you and they could if he really wanted to. he could break free from the lousy restraints, but he knows how much you want this and he wouldn’t dare rob you of this experience. 

and you take him like you were made from it, bouncing on his cock, your ass clapping with every thrust. you whine for him, testing his patience. “does it feel good, sy?”

another deep growl fills your ears and shoots straight to your core. “you know it does, sweetheart. what about you, hmm? does, hah fuck, does using my cock like this satisfy you?”

you choke out a sob, sitting on him completely and grinding your hips against him with vigor. “mmhm, you’re such a good boy, baby,” you moan out, feeling his cock throb at the praise. “b-but you know what would make me feel even better?” you ask, voice cracking. 

he tries to thrust into you, but you don’t give him a chance. he’s stuck in this chair with you on top of him so all he can do is pant out a strained, “what?”

“if you—mmm, if you came inside of me,” you whimper. “fuck, sy, please? please fill me up with your cum. want you to shoot it so deep inside of me, please please please?”

your pleas are so desperate, almost as if you aren’t already taking everything you want. as if you aren’t already making his cock twitch and his stomach tighten. as if you aren’t already milking him dry while he lets out a drawn out groan. 

a happy moan rips from your throat when you feel his cum spray inside you, filling you so deep just how you wanted. you let him empty himself, waiting till every drop of cum is spilled into you before pulling off his cock, grabbing a fistfull of his hair and bringing his face to your messy, filled cunt. 

his surprised moan is muffled by your pussy. you figured he’d rip through the rope and push you away, but he happily laps and sucks at your hole, licking up every bit of your mixed arousal that leaks out of you. 

you whine, heat flooding your body as you grind your ass against his face. “y-yeah, eat your cum out of me, just like that, sy,” 

“dirty girl,” he murmurs against your cunt before devouring you whole, the sounds of smacking and slurping and groaning resuming. 

your knees nearly give out, the only thing holding you up is the death grip you have on his silver locks. you jolt and tremble before him and he doesn’t need to see to know you’re close. 

all it takes is a raspy, “cum on my face, sweet girl,” for you to completely unravel, legs shaking uncontrollably as you paint his face in syrupy arousal. you’re reduced to whines and whimpers of his name and sylus just wishes he could see you. 

and his wish is granted mere seconds later when you’re weakly tugging the blindfold off of him, taking his gleaming face in your hand and pressing your lips to his to taste the two of you on him. 

he groans, passing the release into your mouth while pulling on the restraints in a need to grab you. 

“you did so well for me, sy.”

“mmm, thank you, sweetie. and,” his voice drops to a whisper. “next time you want to recreate something… just tell me.”

ᯓ 黎深 ⟢ ZAYNE ˖᯽ ݁˖ — meanie!bf makes you ask for permission to cum #spanking

zayne never uses social media. especially not twitter. but you convinced him to download it so you could send him funny tweets and cute cat videos. he shook his head and downloaded the app just to get you to shut up, but he never actually opened it. 

one rare and quiet day, with nothing on his schedule and you stuck at work, curiosity finally got the better of him. he made an account on a whim, and that’s when he saw it: suggested accounts. yours, right at the top, labeled as someone he “may know.” a small, fond smile curved his lips as he tapped on your profile, warmth blooming in his chest at the sight of your cute icon staring back at him.

but that smile fell just as quick as it came when he scrolled a bit too far and found a quote retweet captioned, “does anyone wish their bf would do this to them too??? :((( being spanked then doted on… sigh.” 

he watched the video with a dry throat and widened eyes. the first thought that came to mind was that you posted this on your public profile—but then he noticed you only had 15 followers. still, he’ll have to remind you of your digital footprint. 

once the initial shock wore off… he watched the video again. is this what you wanted? to be ruthlessly fucked from the back and spanked… by him?

zayne closes the app, clears his throat and throws his head back against the couch he’s sitting on. he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a shaky exhale. 

if that’s what you want… then that’s what you’ll get. 

—

he waits patiently for you to trudge past the door, trying to keep himself busy with god knows what till he hears it. the sound of your keychains rattling and the click of the door as you unlock it and walk in. 

“hi, zaynie,” you breathe, skipping towards him and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. one whiff of you and all he can think about is doing all the naughty things you’ve been secretly wanting. his cock aches. his blood thrums. he needs it now. 

“are you okay?” you pull back, concerned by his silence and even more deterred when you see his hardened face. 

when he speaks, it’s low and stern. a voice you’ve only heard a handful of times. “bedroom. now, please.”

you let out a confused chuckle. “what for?”

when he raises an eyebrow at you, you cower, nodding your head and scurrying to the bedroom like he asked. 

it’s nothing like what you expected. you didn’t expect zayne to walk in and strip you bare without a word, didn’t expect him to bend you over the bed and press himself into your tight, waiting warmth. and you definitely didn’t expect his hand to come down hard on your ass—the sharp, thunderous crack filling the room, followed instantly by your startled squeak.

“this is what you wanted, is it not?” he pants, fucking into you with vigor melting at the sound of your sweet, surprised moans. “this is what you were talking about on your twitter, right?” 

your voice comes watery, confused. “wh-what?” you ask, hands fisting at the sheets, your body jolting with every sharp, rough thrust. 

his hand comes down, your other cheek meeting the same fate and it has another desperate moan crawling out of you. “you wanted to, what was it? get spanked and doted on, huh?” 

and then it hits you suddenly—vividly. you remember the video. it was a faceless man taking a faceless girl from behind, ruthless, almost cruel in the way he fucked her. you remember the sharp smack of his hand against her skin, how badly you’d wished it were you and zayne instead. but what turned you on the most—what lodged itself deep inside your core—was the contrast of it all. the way the stranger’s rough, unyielding actions clashed with the softness of his words. the concept of being fucked like a slut while being praised like a good girl. it made you spin. 

it only made you think of zayne. zayne and his large, calloused hands. zayne and his sweet voice. zayne and his cock that stretched and fucked you so good that it makes you cry. 

and you’d be lying if you said the thought of him realizing this… realizing it’s what you’d wanted all along… didn’t make heat pool low in your stomach all over again.

you clench tightly around him, turning your heated face into the pillow that smelled just like him. this only makes him laugh, humorlessly. 

“yeah, you’re remembering now, aren’t you, my darling girl?” his throaty voice only turns you on further. you arch your back and wiggle your ass as an invitation. an invitation for him to give you more. to go hard. “that’s it. good girl.”

you shudder at the praise. “f-fuck,” the curse is whimpered against the silk fabric of his pillow. “fuck, zayne, it’s s-so—god! so deep. feels so good!” you feel him everywhere, but especially in your tightening stomach. you’re already at the precipice of an orgasm and it only makes zayne want to fuck you right to the finish line. 

zayne hums, spanking you again just to hear a giggly moan and it makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. “you’re so precious,” he whispers before his hand laces in your hair and pulls your face away from the pillow. “did you want me to find that tweet, sweetheart? so i could spank you and pull at your hair? so i could fuck you stupid on my cock?”

you don’t bother hiding it. you wanted this more than anything. you craved this more than anything. “yes, yes, yes! please!” 

“gooood girl,” he murmurs softly. it’s a perfect contradiction to the way his cock drives into you, the tip just barely brushing your cervix. it’s too much. you’re wound tight as hell, a dam on the brink of bursting, and zayne feels it instantly.

“you wanna cum?”

you can barely form the words, desperation breaking your voice as you beg, “can i…? please?”

“yes, baby. cum for me,” he grunts, fist tightening in your hair, pulling you into a deeper arch. “come on. cum all over me.”

you shatter almost instantly. your body trembles as you come apart on his cock, a needy, broken moan slipping free while the tight knot in your stomach unravels and you soak him completely.

he doesn’t stop—he only fucks you through it, steady and relentless, before pressing a gentle kiss to your spine. 

“you did so well,” you feel his lips curve into a smile as he murmurs against your slick, overheated skin, “he but we’re not done yet.”

ᯓ 夏以昼 ⟢ CALEB ˖᯽ ݁˖ — bf lets you sit on his pretty face #facesitting 

it was no secret that caleb kept tabs on you. he was very open about it—he has all your post notifications on, he knows where you are at all times, and he always knows what you’re up to. it didn’t bother you in the slightest, he’s always been protective of you—watching over you like it was his life’s purpose. 

but there’s one secret that you keep from caleb. and it’s nothing major, truly! it’s just… an alt twitter account you use to retweet your soft porn. while there’s no reason to keep this from your boyfriend, you don’t have the heart to show it to him. it’s the home of all your fantasies, more than anything, it’s embarrassing. 

even so, the last thing you want is for caleb to know. you’ve done everything in your power to keep this secret. you used an obscure email to create the account, a password with a series of random numbers and letters that he’d never be able to guess and an alias. it was practically impossible for him to trace it back to you. 

one day, you were scrolling on said account, thighs pressed together as you came across a video of a girl sitting on a guy's face, tugging at his hair while she glided across his mouth and nose. all you could think about is caleb—how good it would feel to fuck his face like you were in heat.

it was something you thought about often. you’ve had caleb eat you out before, yes, but you’ve never asked to try this in fear that you’d either A. suffocate him or B. he’d be turned off. 

so you do what you always do, quote retweeting it with a caption that read: “wanna sit on my bf’s pretty face just like this :,(” 

you shut out the app and flop back onto your bed, trying—failing—to chase the thoughts of him away. especially the image of him stretched out against these very pillows and you hovering over him while your arousal drenches his face. you lose yourself in the fantasy, hands sliding down your body in need.

but then your phone starts to blow up—message after message lighting the screen, all from your boyfriend:

caleb ♥︎: baby, are you serious?

caleb ♥︎: is that really what you want? 

caleb ♥︎: you wanna sit on my face?

caleb ♥︎: forget it, I’ll be there in an hour. we’ll talk about this when I see you.

your breath hitches and brows knit in confusion—then it clicks. your tweet. maybe you should’ve been more careful before hitting send. maybe the app glitched. either way, when you open the app again, dread crashes over you as you confirm that you’ve posted it from the wrong account—the account where caleb has your notifications on. meaning he saw it immediately. 

you delete it in a panic, humiliated, praying none of your other mutuals caught it in time. there’s nothing you can say or do to stop caleb from coming over. so you stand, pace, draw in a shaky breath and wait. 

—

caleb lets himself in, shuts the door, and locks it behind him. the talk he mentioned in his text never comes. no greeting. no anger. instead, he strips down to his boxers and climbs into your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you’re frozen where you stand, lip caught between your teeth, thighs pressed tightly together. when he settles against the pillows, he lifts his gaze to you so calm that it almost scares. he looks at you expectantly.

“well?” he starts. “what are you waiting for? i’m here. you wanted to sit on your boyfriend’s pretty face, did you not?”

you exhale a sharp, nervous laugh, “c-caleb, we don’t have to…” you let shyness take over. “i’ll—i’ll suffocate you. it probably won’t feel good for you either…”

he scoffs incredulously. “come sit on my face before i make you. you do remember my evol, don’t you?”

you barely have time to process it before you feel weightless, a surprised yelp slipping out as he drags you toward him with nothing more than a flick of his hand.

you give in instantly, nodding as you stumble, “okay okay!”

he lets go and watches with hungry, unblinking eyes as you push your shorts and panties down, letting them pool at your feet. you climb onto the bed and crawl toward him slowly until you’re hovering just above his throat, suspended in the tension and your own personal fear.

“caleb, are you sure i won’t be too heavy?” you whisper. 

“i’m sure, baby.” he says reassuringly, his hands grabbing your hips and lifting you till your cunt is just inches away from his face. “come on, sit. lemme taste you.”

you let out a shaky breath and start to lower yourself before you can talk yourself out of it, but his arms hook beneath your thighs and force you all the way down, drawing a satisfied moan from him and a startled gasp from you. your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the silky strands as you cling to him, grounding yourself before your strength gives out entirely.

you bite your lip, desperate to keep your moans quiet, but the drag of his nose against your clit paired with the warm suction of his mouth has your resolve shattering. it feels even better than you ever imagined. and when his hands come up to palm at your breasts? his fingers tweaking your nipples? you’re a goner.

“fuck,” you whimper, fingers tugging at his roots hard enough to draw a pained groan from him, though it barely registers. all you can focus on is the way he devours you like he’s starving, the vibration of his moans coursing through your body and lighting your nerves on fire, the relentless grind against your swollen, sensitive clit.

“caleb,” you cry, breathlessly, “ah! feels so good.”

“keep fuckin’ my face, pretty girl,” he moans, the words muffling into your cunt. “wanna taste you cummin’ all over me. you can do it.”

he pulls you onto him harder. like he wants to run out of oxygen. 

and you obey—even if you wanted to stop, you couldn’t. not when you’re this close—not when caleb wants this just as bad as you do. you hump his face desperately, like a woman depraved, chasing your orgasm. you let your moans out freely, high pitched and needy, letting them join the sounds of slurping and smacking.

your body trembles violently, fingers fisting in caleb’s hair as you shatter, a mix of arousal and slick cum painting his face while you squeal his name like a broken record. “caleb, caleb, caleb—” his name is all that exists—all you can cling to at the moment.

he groans into you, relentless, licking and sucking every last trace, his hips lifting off the bed with desperate urgency. his cock throbs in his boxers, twitching with need for a taste of your cunt. 

a sob tears from your chest when he doesn’t slow. “w-wait!” you gasp, legs shaking, body on the verge of giving out. “i’m s-sensitive, ca-caleb!”

“no, baby, please,” he whimpers, raw and earnest. “please let me keep going. you don’t know how bad i’ve wanted this.”

“w-what?” you breathe, dazed.

“for so long, pips,” he admits softly. “just sit there… let me do all the work. please?”

ᯓ 祁煜 ⟢ RAFAYEL ˖᯽ ݁˖ — crazy bf fucks you while you pretend to be asleep #somno

despite his bubbly, sassy exterior, rafayel carried his demons quietly. the kind that kept him watching you—both in real life and through the glow of a screen. the thought of losing you makes something dark twist in his chest. you’re his cutie, his heart, his muse, his entire world wrapped into one person.

he knows it’s wrong to have all your passwords. knows it crosses a line. so he tells himself he’s careful—only checks when he has to, when the ache gets too loud to ignore.

it’s been a while since he last logged into your account, but it’s also been days since he’s seen you. that has to count for something, right? just a quick look. just to scroll through what you’ve seen, what you’ve liked. just enough to feel close to you again.

a smile touches his lips when he sees all the silly tweets you’ve liked. 

but then he sees it. a tweet that looks so out of place in the midst of cute cat videos and senseless jokes. a tweet that reads “gf who pretends to be asleep x bf who was gonna fuck her either way,” along with a video of just that. the smile falls immediately, his lips pressing into a thin line while his brows furrow. 

his darkened gaze catches on the yellow bookmark, curiosity winning out before he can stop himself. the moment he opens your bookmarks aka the little trove of soft porn, his cock hardens. it’s all amateur and intimate, but worse, there’s a pattern. a theme. every two minute video was a girl getting fucked while she slept. fucked. bred. all while she laid pliant, eyes closed. 

rafayel’s eyes drag over the captions again and again, each one making his thoughts spin faster. he loses track of time, an entire hour slipping by as he clicks through every video, cock aching and heart racing, torn between guilt and the thrill curling tight in his chest.

he pictured you like that—lying awake at night, thoughts circling him…his cock… until you finally drifted asleep. he imagined the wetness that pooled in your panties when you drifted off, the way desire followed you even into your dreams. it made something deep in him ache.

how long had you wanted this? with the sheer number of tweets tucked away in your bookmarks, he can’t help but think this fantasy has lived with you for a long time now, growing quietly… patiently.

but why not make your fantasy a reality?

—

rafayel asked you to spend the night, and of course you said yes please. you’d been missing your boyfriend like crazy, and with work constantly getting in the way, time together had become frustratingly scarce.

when you arrived, he’d planned something sweet—movies, cuddling, takeout you both loved. an innocent night in. except you wanted more. every subtle advance you made was met with a gentle deflection. he ignored them all, letting the tension build until you were needy with it. you were wound tight, and he still refused to touch you the way you ached for.

by the end of the night, you felt coiled and restless, yet too perverted to voice what you wanted aloud, especially after being brushed off. so you climbed into his bed with a sulky “goodnight,” a pout tugging at your lips, and tried to will yourself to sleep.

it didn’t come easily. all you could think about was him. your eyes squeezed shut, brows knitting together as the ache lingered, basically impossible to ignore. you were wet beyond belief. and only after you felt slumber slowly pulling at you, you felt your boyfriend press against you.

you felt his hard cock through his pants as he slowly, subtly rocked himself against you with barely steady breaths. your heart raced, holding in the little gasp that’s threatening to spill out of you.

“i saw all the videos you’ve been watching on twitter, princess,” he whispers, rutting against you a little harder, the words hitting just as deep as the motion. “all those videos of girls getting fucked while they sleep… is that what you want?”

both your heart and your thoughts stutter at once. for a split second you think you’re dreaming—but you can feel him, and you can differentiate fantasy and reality. the truth finally settles in as his hand slides beneath your sleep shorts, drifting lower, touching you in a way that leaves no doubt at all. this is real. 

he hums when his fingers are immediately met with your slick arousal. “the idea of getting fucked while you’re unconciouis gets you this wet?”

you swallow the whimper trying to break free and let your deepest fantasy unfold. you force yourself to relax, to go pliant in the way you’ve always imagined this—but the moment rafayel circles your clit, your body betrays you, tensing on instinct.

“this slutty pussy wants me to fuck her, doesn’t she, baby? your body’s practically begging for me…” he groans into your ear, grinding deeper into you. “it would be so bad for me to fuck you while you sleep, though. i’d be such a bad boyfriend…”

you want to scream when he slows down. when he starts to retract his hand like it’s some bad idea. 

“i shouldn’t touch you while you’re trying to sleep.” he murmurs, a hint of amusement threading through his words. 

his hand nearly slips away from your shorts when a frayed plea falls from your lips. “please,” you whimper—and that’s really all the confirmation rafayel needs. he flips you onto your stomach and presses over you like a man starved.

your shorts are barely tugged down and his sweats are pushed just low enough for him to free himself. his hot, thick cock slaps against your bare skin and the contact makes you squeak. he pushes into you, filling you in one deep motion. gasps and moans spill from both of you in tandem, but he doesn’t give either of you time to settle. his hands grip your ass, fingers digging in as your flesh spills through the gaps all while he drives into you relentlessly.

“i knew you were pretending to sleep,” he grunts and it’s barely loud enough to be heard over the sounds of his skin slapping against yours.

you’re breathless when you manage to answer. “h-how?” the question breaks on a whine as his cock drives deeper with every hard thrust.

“i could hear how fast your heart was beating,” he chuckles darkly, never slowing, his pace mean. ruthless. “the way your breathing changed the second you felt me behind you.” his grip tightens as he leans in. “you were just waiting for me to take your clothes off and fuck you, weren’t you?”

you whimper, utterly exposed. “yes…”

“naughty, naughty girl.” he laughs. “should’ve told me you wanted to get fucked while you slept.”

you moan, clamping tightly around him and taking the painful stretch in stride. your back arches for more. like your body needs his cock or you’ll die. the knot in your stomach has been winding tighter all night, waiting for this exact moment, and you’re already embarrassingly close.

“no need to hold back,” he whispers. “soak my fucking cock like the slut you are.”

his sharp words tear a mewl from you, your walls clenching around his cock so tight it steals the breath from his lungs. you break as he drives into you without mercy. you fall apart around him with a beg, “please, please, please—” the word dissolving into a wrecked sob that fills the room.

“good girl,” he breathes. “now go back to sleep and let me have my fun, yeah?”

ᯓ 沈星回 ⟢ XAVIER ˖᯽ ݁˖ — dom!bf lets you edge him and begs you to cum #edging

tara is your best friend in the entire world. the kind of best friend who knows every corner of your life, including the private parts you don’t share with anyone else. especially when it comes to you and xavier.

at first, her curiosity overwhelmed you. her questions were invasive, relentless, sometimes overly embarrassing. but over time, you got used to it. more than that—you started to look forward to it. your weekly dates where you can rant about work at the association and the gory details of your relationship with xavier. 

telling tara everything became its own kind of thrill. the late night giggles when she’d come over, the hushed voices so he couldn’t hear anything while he lived in the apartment above you, the way she’d squeal or gasp at every insane detail. it felt good to have someone who wanted to hear it all.

you’d even told her about wanting to try something new with him—something you were pretty sure he’d never agree to. you wanted xavier to be the one begging you for once. he was always so dominant in bed that the idea of flipping the script… of him giving in and taking everything you had to offer, felt almost absurd… which was exactly why you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

you remember when you saw the video of your ideal fantasy on twitter. a video of a guy being dominated by a girl. she made him beg for permission while she rode him and all you could think about was him. how cute he’d be with his blushy cheeks and the yearning look in his eyes. how pretty he’d sound whimpering out pleas and begs to cum inside of you. it shook you to your core. you saved the video to your bookmarks immediately and came back to it from time to time just to fantasize. 

the night after you told tara about said fantasy, you decided to send her a visual, just so she knew exactly what you wanted. it’s not like you wanted to tie him up, you just wanted to watch him break underneath you. 

@/starringmc: this is exactly what i want to do to xavier!!! 

you hadn’t heard anything from tara for a while. you half expected her to open your dm immediately. she’s basically chronically online whenever she’s not on a mission or training, but there was nothing. 

a knock at your door pulls you from your scrolling, brows knitting as you get up to answer it. when you swing the door open, your breath catches. xavier stands there, cheeks flushed, posture oddly sheepish.

“xavier? come in.” you step aside automatically, shutting the door behind him before turning back, confusion etched across your face. “what are you doing here? did we have plans?” worry slips into your voice.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he lifts his phone and turns the screen toward you—the twitter dm meant for tara, unmistakable.

your throat runs dry. heat rushes through you, mortification blooming in your chest, your face, the tips of your ears.

“i-i can…” you start, words tangling as his gaze pins you in place. “i can explain?”

he cocks his head to the side and asks. “so you don’t want to do this to me?”

“no! i mean—y-yes, but i… i just didn’t mean… i didn’t mean to send that to you.” you splutter. “this is not how i envisioned telling you that i wanted to try something like this. i’m sorry.”

“let’s do it.” he says, tossing his phone on your couch. “let’s recreate it—i want to.”

—

xavier sensed you were nervous. it took you a minute to fully get into it—the headspace, the dominance, but you eventually got there and he believes it’s the sexiest you’ve ever been. 

you sat on his cock, slowly grinding against him like you were trying to tease him. your hands gripped at his pecs, palming and squeezing them in a way that made him breathless. 

it was a struggle… to let his guard down, to let you dominate him. his hands were on your hips and he urged you to move faster. he wanted you to bounce on his cock till he came, but you said no. 

“beg for it.” you whisper. “i won’t move the way you want me to unless you beg.” 

he whimpers, the beg slipping past his lips all mumbly and cute—just the way you imagined they would. “please. please, go faster. i want you to go faster.”

you hum, delighted, your walls hugging him nice and tight as his words shoot straight to your core. you kindly oblige, lifting your hips and dropping them to which xavier lets out a blissed out moan. his brows knit in the utmost pleasure and his eyes flutter close. 

his hands slide up to your waist, gripping you tight and holding you in place while his cock rams in and out of you. you let out little squeaks with every thrust and it only makes his cock throb intensely, loud whimpers following your sounds in suit.

he tries to hold back. to not get so close, but he can’t help it. you look so pretty riding him with your tits bouncing in his face and your pussy tightening around him like a vice. it makes him twitch frantically. 

and you can feel it. the way he jerks and shakes—you know he’s close. you find it oddly endearing…how he’s been reduced to this, but you bite back the smile and school your features into something firm instead. “don’t cum,” you warn quietly. “you can’t cum… not yet.”

his hands still you, keeping you grounded and speared on his length as he begs for permission. “fuck, please—please let me cum.” he pleads, voice broken. 

“no, not yet.” and the sound it pulls from him makes your chest ache—the choked, desperate sob torn from his throat at the denial, raw enough to make your heart constrict. “keep fucking me, xavie.”

he shakes his head incessantly, “i c-can’t, baby—fuck, i’ll–i’ll cum!”

“you can hold it.” you say, breathlessly, resuming your wicked motions. “be good ‘n fuck me faster.” 

he clenches his teeth, pounding into you just the way you want. his hips snap against you with vigor while his cock helplessly throbs. he wants nothing more than to press deep inside and spill his load into you. 

“i wanna cum, please, please, please. baby, please—i’ll do anything.”

you can’t resist him… his pretty face, his sweet voice. you offer a saccharine smile, lean in so your lips ghost over his and whisper. “cum inside of me, xavie.” 

a loud, relieved groan slips out of him, his hands grip on you bruising as he pounds into you before he stills. his tip kisses your cervix before he’s pouring his hot, long awaited release into your cunt. 

he crashes his mouth against yours, allowing you to swallow his moans as his arms wrap tight around you. he pulls you flush to his chest before he rolls you beneath him, hard cock still pressed inside of you. you squeal into the kiss, breathless and startled as the world tilts.

when he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, foreheads pressed against one another. you catch the darkness in his eyes, the heat flushing his cheeks, the way restraint is barely holding.

“can i make you beg now?” he whispers, voice low. then, softer… much more vulnerable, “please?”