Fuck Me Like I’m Famous

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

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

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

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

Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully

How could Caleb deny you? 

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

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

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

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

Or, tried to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

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

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

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

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

Caleb just snaps.

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

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

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

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

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

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

"Caleb—"

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

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, fuck."

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

"Yes, please, please, please—"

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

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

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

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

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

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

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

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

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

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

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

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

And you do.

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

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, Raf...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

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

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

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

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

It’s humiliating how right he is.

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

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

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

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

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

Or rather, he would have. 

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

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

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

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

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

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

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

"Xavier—"

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

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

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

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

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

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

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

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

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

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

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

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

He wants to ruin you even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door handle rattles.

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

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

"Zayne, your Evol—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

⌕ dungeon meshi - laios.

like or reblog if you save/use.

Aight this is for my friend cuz she loves L (I mean I do too but this is her request) and doesn't have Tumblr.

So, headcanons for this kind of situation?: The reader is a café waitress and so one day L decides to get sweets himself and orders from the reader. He decides to come back everyday to the café for the sweets and because he liked the waitress. So like as he visits everyday he starts to get a crush on the reader and the reader with him if that makes sense. Eventually he asks out?

bye bc i absolutely adore this idea 🥺 thank you so much for this request, and i hope both you and your friend like this! <3

so we ALL know l loves his sweets

one day he asks watari to bring him some after a long while of working, to which watari replies that they've run out

so l is like "okay" and decides to take matters into his own hands

he's not too afraid to go out in public without any kind of disguise or protection, as he always keeps his identity hidden while working as l

he wastes no time in pulling on a pair of sneakers and waltzing out, trying to find a good place to buy himself more treats

after a while of looking, he finally comes across this cute little café

which just so happens to be the very café that you work in!

so he walks in there while you're working the register

he sees you and he's literally like "oh my god"

there's something about you that makes him feel just... weird

not like a bad weird though! he feels his heart skip a beat and his stomach suddenly start churning

it's an odd feeling for him, but he likes it????

he doesn't really know what to think; all he can do is just ogle at you

he can't get enough of you, and he hasn't even spoken to you yet

so finally l gets over himself and shuffles up to the counter

you notice him and you flash him a warm smile

"hello! what can i get for you today?"

if you look into his brain at this moment, all it would be is the windows error screen LMAO

l is able to keep up a decent front as he quickly spouts off the names of some cakes and pies and such, but right now he's more interested in the pretty person in front of him rather than the sweets

before he knows it, you're ringing up his items and handing him his food

he's well aware that this is his cue to leave, but he just doesn't want to

something about you makes him want to stay. he just finds you interesting, is all

so he takes the stuff and he goes back to his hotel, but he can't stop thinking about that pretty cashier

so fast forward to the next day, and l is like "screw it" and decides to go back to see you again

luckily for him, you're there! he couldn't be more excited :D

he's definitely not one of those people whose face you'd see in a crowd one day and just totally forget about. he's got a certain air about him, this little quirky charm, so obviously you recognize him

"hello again! i did see you yesterday, didn't i?"

"uh, yes. yes you did."

"see, i knew i recognized you! you back for more sweets?"

"mhm. do you have anything strawberry flavored, by any chance?"

l's already an introvert, but he can feel himself getting shyer the longer he's near you

he's very well aware that he's an awkward kind of guy, but you manage to get him all flustered in a way he's never been before

as you ring up the items he'd ordered, he attempts to make small talk with you

"the weather's nice today."

"you think so? it's been really rainy and gloomy."

"i like the rain."

"oh yeah! nothing wrong with the rain. it can be quite nice."

when you hand him the bag of stuff, you're about to wish him farewell before he randomly says, "oh, by the way, what's your name?"

"it's (y/n)!" you tell him, gesturing to the name tag on your shirt. "yours?"

"oh, it's ryuzaki."

(as interested as he is in you, he's not about to just give himself away as l like that)

"i like that name! well, ryuzaki, i hope you have a good day! and come back soon!"

"i will, thank you."

you didn't expect him to actually take 'soon' so literally, as the next day he's back again

and the day after that

you get the gist

l always comes in at around 6 or 7 in the evening when business is slow so you have more of a chance to talk to him

the more he comes in, the more comfortable he grows around you.

talking about each other's day, sharing funny stories, getting to know each other- it's really nice! and you always look forward to seeing him come in, because you always have a blast hanging out with him

as time goes on, l only falls harder for you. your smile, the way your hair perfectly frames your beautiful face, the way you laugh every time he makes an attempt to crack a joke... he loves it

unbeknownst to him, you've caught feelings as well. you've already grown to be feel comfortable in his company, but the more you get to know him, the more you realize that omg this guy's the cutest

finally, one evening he comes in, but he looks way more anxious than normal

"ryuzaki! hey, you doing okay? you seem kinda... i don't know. off. did something happen?"

"no, no. nothing happened. i just- i have something i want to tell you."

"hmm? what is it?"

"well, you see, i... i've been thinking about you a lot. i quite enjoy visiting you and talking to you, and i think you're one of the most interesting people i've met. i like being with you, so i was wondering if you would like to, um, spend more time together outside of your work. like a date. but only if you're comfortable with it."

at this, you're literally over the moon

"i'd really like that, ryuzaki! i get off work early tomorrow; would you be down to grab some dinner with me?"

l flashes you his signature tiny smile, the one you've grown to know and love over this past while

"yes. i'd like that, (y/n). i'd like it very much."

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗟 𝗟𝗮𝘄𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻’𝘀 (𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: what it’s like to be sexually intimate with L Lawliet

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut, cockwarming, quite soft & lazy sex

feel free to check out the SFW one here :)

• A definite switch although he leans more towards the top/dom side

• He isn’t really into dom/sub themes he prefers top/bottom but every now and then if he’s really in the mood then he’ll be kinky

• Overall he isn’t incredibly kinky, if you’re into something he’ll try it but he doesn’t have that many of his own kinks

Keep reading

y/n tying kyojuro's hair

NSFW Alphabet ft. Yandere! Rengoku

& Afab! Darling

18+

Wanted to make more yandere Rengoku content so I did that smut alphabet thats been going around

Warnings: Smut, Suggested Non-con/Dub-con, Sex, Oral, Implied Anal, Toys, Breeding kink, ect. ect.

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Man is spent. He’s never half-assed anything, so by the end of the rut, he’s already panting hard and dripping with sweat. Honestly, the quality of the aftercare varies from day to day (and depending on his mood.) If he’s up for it, he may take the time to clean you off with a wet cloth, wipe away all the cum from your cunt and rub some ointment on any bruises or bites. But most nights are spent dripping with nut and warming his cock, clutched to his chest like a vice. He can always clean you up in the morning anyway.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your tits.  He likes looking at them. He likes holding them. He likes feeling them. He loves sucking on them. It just makes him feel so… safe. Now if you were producing milk at the time, there would be no separating the two. But he loves the rest of your body as well, he just has a fascination with your rack specifically.

As for himself, he enjoys his own chest as well. He enjoys keeping you close to sleep on it, feeling your breath near his heart, praying that the organ can somehow coerce you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. But besides the metaphorical reasoning, he knows his pecs are soft and wants you to lay on them like a pillow.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he were to play that word association game and his word were to be “cum”, his immediate answer would be “cunt”. His brain is set to maximum primal instinct. If he sees your pussy, he’s gonna cum inside it, and he comes a lot. If you were under some previous assumption that he’d cum just anywhere, that’s on you, darling. If he’s gonna cum, it's gonna be in your sweet, tight, warm pussy, right where it belongs. Sure, he’ll shoot the occasional load in your mouth or ass, but he’s always scooping some up and shoving it up your snatch, pressing it into your walls and fantasizing about your egg accepting his sperm. It should be pretty obvious why.

He wants every drop locked inside of you, keeping all his little babies warm while he panders you with attention and love. If the purpose of semen is to impregnate a womb, why would he want it anywhere else? Look at the bigger picture here.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It turns him on to see you cry. He doesn’t mean to! The last thing he would ever want is for you to be upset or hurt, but something about seeing you so pathetic and vulnerable does something to him. He finds himself “accidentally” being too rough with you, “accidentally” hurting your feelings, “accidentally” neglecting you. Oh, you look so pretty when you sob, fat tears pooling down your red cheeks like drops of rain on a window. And it just winds him up all over again. He can always cheer you up afterward, right?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not too experienced, but he’s sampled here or there. Truth be told, he wasn’t all too big on the idea of sex before you. The act itself was just to pass the time, maybe relieve some stress. He’d never met someone he’d imagined settling down with before, and that made sex a bit… disappointing. Until he met you of course. Kyojuro made sure to do some more research before he swept you away. Studies, videos, books, you name it. He didn’t really care if he was doing things right before. But, like I said before, he doesn’t half-ass anything, especially when it comes to his little darling. And considering how he can turn you into such a hot mess in a matter of minutes, it's safe to say his efforts have paid off.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl.

Kyojuro usually does the majority of the work during the deed, including remaining on top, but once every blue moon, he throws you on top and gives you a hard slap on the ass. Giddy-up bitch. Having you on top, bouncing on his cock so deeply, so slowly, it's such an intricate pleasure. Intricate as in it feels like he’s being milked like fucking cow. He feels the way your cunt squeezes him on the way up and glides so carefully back down, glazing his shaft and sucking the milk straight from his balls, begging him to unload his potent seed right where you need it. He likes to imagine your life depends on it. Doesn’t it?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s tried from time to time, but has found you don’t react very well to it. His goal was to make you more comfortable, but it was fairly obvious that the only thing that would make you “comfortable” was to avoid sex entirely, which wasn’t on the table. He wasn’t about to let you spend your days celibate and bored when he could be pleasing you as you deserved. He’ll still giggle from time to time, but he tries to be fairly serious, so he can focus on giving you attention. But he still does wish you would lighten up to make things more fun.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s fairly groomed, but his happy trail is pretty messy. Thick and coarse, you can feel the unruly hair scratch against your clit when he plows you into the bed at night, rolling his hips lazily to feel every inch of your velvety cunt and doping himself out. You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from whining, your delicate bead overwhelmed by the sensation of pain and pleasure. Blowjobs are even worse as you’re always finding yourself plucking stray pubes from your mouth, gagging at the sharp hairs. You wish he would just shave.

Does the carpet match the drapes? Absolutely.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very… intense, is one word for it. There’s no resting periods, no breaks, just ongoing, continuous, lovemaking (fucking.) Kyojuro may need to pause every once in a while for a refractory period, he only has so much cum after all, but even then he still touches you. Sucking on your clit, maybe fingering his seed back into you. He likes to keep himself busy. As much as he tries to be romantic initially, telling you he loves you, complimenting your beauty, comforting you, he always falls back to his primal self, dirty talking, moving too rough, biting you. So swept up in the moment, his instincts do all the talking as he holds your hips down to the bed and just starts humping. There’s not much you can do during those times besides hold on for dear life and blink your tears away. But you can’t deny the effort is there. Sometimes you go to the bed for the night only to find the room littered with rose petals and candles, a naked Kyo sitting up against the headboard with his thighs spread and cock bobbing between them. You already know it’s going to be a long night.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t. The pleasure is miniscule compared to having the real thing (you), and even when you’re not with him, he still doesn’t indulge. He’s adamant that it’s wasteful, if not selfish. Why waste a good load into his hand when he can give it to you? 

But before he’d met you, he’d touched himself quite often, mostly from pent up frustrations and the constant overproduction of semen in his balls. He’d do it everywhere - in bed, in his car, in the bathroom at work - there was constant ache in his belly that grew with each hour his hand wasn’t fisting his cock. He’d never really understand back then why he was so insatiable until he’d grown to love you. After that it was quite obvious that his primal body was heavily focused on the need to breed and fuck his babies into his destined love. Even if the feeling was… less than consensual.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, Daddy, Breeding, Praise, Marking, Breeding, Pet play, Overstimulation, Breeding… Did I say breeding yet? Kyojuro is into pretty much anything when it comes to you but these are the main ones you have to deal with. His fascinations usually fluctuate every couple of weeks, one week he may be especially gentle and kind with you as he uses only his tongue to tease and edge you until you can beg daddy to let you come, and another he may tie you up with your face buried deep into the pillows and your ass high in the air as fills you up with what feels like gallons of cum. If you’re smart enough, you may realize your own actions have an influence on what he’ll be into for the week - if you’re well-behaved and clingy, he’ll be soft and patient, wanting nothing more than to spoil his little girl, but if your… difficult, all he’s going to be in the mood for is a more torturous pleasure for you, treating you like his little cumdump that he can use all he’d like. It’s really up to you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the bedroom. Kyojuro has no problem doing it elsewhere, but his preference will always be in the comfort of your shared king-sized bed. Something about being so intimate in such a safe place feels so nice to him, and he wants you to feel safe too. He doesn’t need you getting anxious in the kitchen or on the couch that he’ll pressure you into intimacy. There will be the occasional kiss and grind, but he likes to keep it PG around the home. But the moment you even step foot into the bedroom, be it to change your clothes or grab a belonging, it's fair game. Maybe he’ll follow you in there for some alone time, maybe he won’t. It’s anyone’s guess.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any hint of consent on your part has his body on you before you can give any objection. Smile at him? Consent. Touch him unprovoked? Consent. Make any noise of satisfaction when he’s with you? Consent. Just the thought of you needing sex and having that need fulfilled by him makes him go absolutely crazy. Psychologically, thats the only reason he feels comfortable doing anything to you - he convinces himself you always want him, vocal or not. You say no? You’re just shy. You insult him? You’re insecure. You start crying? You’re overwhelmed with happiness. He truly thinks you want him, you want his kisses, you want his touch, you want his cock. And it doesn’t help that you can’t stop yourself from coming in his grasp no matter what you do. He thinks your rebellion is just a phase. Maybe it is.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing. While jealousy of another does often rile him up and lead to some hard fucks as punishment, the actual vision of you being with anyone other than him is an immediate no. Why do you think he has you locked away? He loves you of course, and the past is in the past, but as of current you belong to him, and that means your body is only for him as well. He doesn't even take pictures of you in fear that someone may wander on his phone and see them. Your body should only crave his, after all his body only craves yours! Isn't that only fair? But he does try not to be hypocritical. He lets you know of every woman in his life with no secrets, immediately cuts off the ones who try to engage with him, he even offers to let you check his phone if he thinks you are getting jealous. However, don’t go about pointing fingers either. He takes accusations of cheating very seriously. Get mad at him and say a girl at work is flirting with him? Expect to hear of her arrest on the news for tax fraud, theft, bribery, ect. - anything that has her in cuffs and tears being escorted into the back of a police car to be locked away for decades while you suffer the punishment of being forced into orgasm after orgasm until you can name 100 reasons why Kyojuro loves you and would never betray you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both equally, but he prefers to give, for practicality’s sake. He knows blowjobs are hard for you. Even when your plush lips do manage to stretch around his thick girth, you can hardly take much in before you start gagging and choking. He still likes to watch since it’s so cute when you have to give up sucking to kiss and lick the tip while your hands do all the talking, but even then it's only an occasional pleasure. While blowjobs are every week or two, cunnilingus is everyday. He doesn’t even penetrate you until you’ve come at least once or twice on his tongue, and he even takes breaks during sex just to eat you out again. For him, it's a meal and therapeutic. Just having your ripe little nub in his mouth has all his problems melting away so he can focus on how delicious and sweet your slick is coating his tongue. And don’t even get him started on how warm and comfortable it is between your legs, some nights he even falls asleep with his head on your thigh, mid-lick up your slit with your clit pulsing under his tongue. But then again, he wouldn’t mind falling asleep with your mouth warming him either. It’s up to you really.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He usually starts off slow, tries to warm you up first and get you stretched out and needy. But it usually dissolved into him frantically rutting into you, desperate to get you fucked out enough to cling to him and beg. But he does prefer your reactions to when he goes slow. He likes how your eyebrows scrunch together and you purse your lips, how you have to take deep breaths to keep yourself composed, how your cunt gently contracts around him and gushes every time he fills you to the brim. The experience is just so much more authentic when he takes his time molding you around him and leisurely building up your orgasms. But that's not to say he doesn’t enjoy a bit of rough housing. It's usually after your umpteenth orgasm, when you’re babbling and drooling, eyes tired and lidding, that he begins increasing his pace and thrusts harder, your eyes shooting open from shock. You're already so smooth and slick from all the creampies, so it's easy to go a little harder and give less than forgiving strokes into your heat. He doesn’t get too rough, doesn’t make you bleed or bruise to an inappropriate extent, but he does prefer to leave a mark. His mark.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh, he’s not privy to them. Kyojuro prides himself on long ruts, and quickies don’t really fit his criteria for the correct way to make love. He thinks every session should be intimate and lengthy, prolonged enough that you’re too tired to make a fuss when he wants to cockwarm or cuddle you afterwards. Quickies aren’t bad… they just aren’t good either. He’ll always want more, and doesn't want you to feel used afterward when he hasn’t made you lose your mind with ecstasy. He does give a quick grope or caress your breasts, ass, or pussy every now and again, but that’s as far as it goes. HOWEVER - if you were to ask him for it (yes, I know, crazy) he would give you a quickie and hesitantly leave you be afterward. Of course, this scenario has never happened before… because you don’t ask.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Of course! He’ll bring home random toys, outfits, or bonds from time to time to experiment different kinks and fetishes. He’s even offered to let you do things to him! (Although you’ve never taken him up on that offer) He wants to try everything with you, just to see if he or you are into something you’ve never tried before. Given, it's not very often that he tries anything unpredictable, but he does every month or so. However, he doesn’t take any risks that would give you the opportunity to escape, per say. Tying him up is a no-no, drugging him is a no-no, giving you weapons is a no-no-no-no-no. But he will let you do anything else to him, and he certainly does whatever he wants to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It depends on how long it's been since your last session, how much energy he has, and what condition he’s in. But if he’s in perfect health, he can usually last around 10 rounds (cumming 10 times). Of course this number can be lower or higher depending on outside factors, but that’s the average. One day he may come once and be done for the night, another he may be so pent as to last 15+, it all depends on circumstance. Each round usually lasts for 30-45 minutes, again this may be shorter depending on depravity. As for you, you always lose count of your own orgasms no matter what.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns several - dildos, vibrators, plugs, you name it. He even has a couple of strap ons for you to use on him if you’d like but you’ve never indulged. He uses them on you from time to time, usually in his more adventurous phases where he wants to experiment more with your body, but he also leaves the drawer full of them available for you to use at your leisure. There are times where he’s gone longer than he would like to be and would prefer if you have toys to please yourself in his absence. He even has a replica dildo with his exact shape and size just for you to use when he’s gone. He unfortunately isn’t quite sure you even use it during those days as you’re always insistent that you don’t and would never (but much to your own horror and guilt, you do.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases fairly often, as that’s his sense of humor and it gets him riled up. From his experience, that’s the best way to get you to be more active during the deed as you squirm and eventually beg for him to give you release. Luckily for you, he very easily gives in to your pleas and always gives you whatever you want right away. Whether with his words or his actions, he loves how you react to his teasings, how your face burns and your mouth falls open with frustration and embarrassment, it's so cute. Especially when he teases you physically, drawing weak circles with his tongue on your clit with a feather-like pressure that has breaking so quickly, wrapping your legs around his head and shoving him deep into your pussy to get the attention you so desperately need, but he always just smiles and tucks his tongue back behind his lips just to kiss against the crease of your lips before unwrapping himself from you and starting all over again. The only way he ever stops is if you use your words and tell him exactly what you want. He wants to hear you say it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can get pretty damn loud. Who is he silencing himself for? You're the only person with him that will ever be with him for the rest of your lives, so why would he keep quiet when he can tell you exactly how good you make him feel? He wants to let you know just what you're doing to him, how crazy you make him feel, how obsessed he is with you. During the slow beginnings of your rounds he will keep himself down to an appropriate level, moaning and groaning softly into your ear, whispering sweet, sweet nothings and praising you, but when the storm of it all hits, he makes sure to howl in euphoria, shouting loud for the world to know that he is the one who obtained you. He whines and whimpers just as much and he grunts and growls, and, if you listen very closely, you can almost hear him purr after he nuts. And don’t worry too much about neighbors or passerbys hearing, he soundproofed the whole place long before you arrived.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Similar to the original Beauty and the Beast, he asks you to marry him constantly. While he knows it would be impossible legally since you’ve been missing for quite some time with authorities on the lookout, he more so asks for romantic purposes. He even has been planning for the event since day 1! But he’d make changes to it if that's what you wanted. Truly he just wants the role of being your husband rather than your lover, as it all comes into play for his ultimate goal of getting you pregnant. While he doesn’t enjoy you being on birth control at present, he allows it for the sake of normalcy as he finds it would be improper to have children before marriage. But if you would just say yes to his proposal that would change everything! You have yet to accept, but he’ll give you time to love him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about 6.5 inches long soft, 8.5 inches when hard, with about a 7 inch girth (6 when soft). He’s a big boy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very. Very. High. There’s pretty much no limit on when he can have sex or be hard, all he needs is some… motivation. Just seeing you relaxed on the couch in your sweats when he gets home from work is enough to get his pants feeling unbearably tight, ideas flooding in about what he’s going to do to you after you both eat dinner. And dear god can he last for hours. There hasn’t ever been a single time when a session has been less than an hour, and by the end of the rut, you’re already so tired that cleaning up simply isn’t an option. For him, there is always an eternal ache in his belly from all the cum he produces, so having a good outlet (you) has done wonders for his health. It doesn’t help that his high drive has affected yours as well, making you far more horny on a daily basis than you used to be. How you aren’t dead by now is a mystery.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty much right after. He uses up every ounce of energy he has during sex so by the time you're both done and covered in liquids, all he wants to do is cuddle and go to sleep. He’s out in maybe 10 minutes? You’re not really sure since you’re passed out as well.

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like a hot dad

content: nsfw, long haired levi, breeding kink, daddy/mommy kink if u squint, dilf levi, post war canon

warnings: +18 content, mild manga spoilers, f!bodied reader.

wc: 1.5k~

tags: @motherfckerrr bc they commented ehe

a/n: i genuinely had no idea where this was going i just kept writing and somehow ended up with being h word for dilf long haired levi and idk how to take it back tysm

also pls reblog if u can!! i’m tryna gain back my old followers from my previous blog due to shadowban, so spreading the word could def help!! tysm either way<3

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do you think levi would grow his hair out post-war?

idk mahn but the vision of him with a short wolf-ish is really getting to me.

i feel like maybe he’d let it grow accidentally. with the healing process for his knee and the rest of his wounds i feel like he wouldn’t really care about his hair, and you’re totally in for it.

it’s a huge change. for years, you’re used to levi’s neat hair and infamous undercut, and you were 100% into it. but now as he finally lets you cut his hair for him instead of doing it himself, you kinda slowly fix it in a wolf cut and let it grow gradually.

you’d come up with excuses every time he asks you to cut his hair.

“i have so much to do around the house today, my love. maybe tomorrow?”

“oh, i’m on my period today. i can barely stand up.”

“oh! i forgot i have to go get stuff from the market! i’ll be meeting gabi and falco, i can’t be late, can i?”

once he gets frustrated with you, the raven silk was already down to his nape. it shaped his face beautifully, and once you caught him with a pair of scissors in the bathroom, your soul left your body.

“WAIT!” you dash to him, holding down the armed left hand. “you’re not left handed! you wanna ruin your hair??”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes at you. “you’ve been putting me off for months. look how long it’s gotten!” he gestures with a hand to the mirror in front of you two. “i look hideous.”

you slip the scissors from his hands, and levi catches the little sly smile that slips on your face as you squeeze yourself between his body and the sink.

you watch the realization fall on his face while your hands slip in his hair.

“is this what i get for letting my guard down around you?”

“you look beautiful,” you tell him, love struck as you are, never missing the pink dust that rushes to his cheeks “everyone compliments you for it. you still wanna cut it off again?”

“i don’t give a shit about anyone else.” he grumbles and looks down between you both, leaning on his cane. “i don’t look representable.”

“you don’t have to look representable,” your tone lowers in sincerity. a thumb grazes the scar on the right side of his face. “you’re not a captain anymore, my love. you’re free to do whatever your heart pleases.”

he looks up at you, features blank, but you know well how your words are tossing and turning in his brain.

“besides,” your smile returns back to your face, and you pull him a little closer. “you look extremely hot.” a hand trails down to the hem of his shirt, your eyes following the movement, then you return your gaze back up to him. “like a hot dad.”

his eyebrows shoot up, playfulness making an appearance on the previous stoic features. “like a hot dad?”

“mmhm,” you affirm with a mock-nonchalant nod, and you slip away from him jjjuuust when he was about to pull you in. you look at him over your shoulder, mischief pure in your gaze. “i’ll go check on dinner for the guests coming tonight. feel free to join.”

only except that ten minutes later, the kitchen is completely empty and you two didn’t manage to make it past the living room. he was seated on the sofa, head throw back with his fucking hair framing his delicious expression like that, you swear you could cum untouched in your position between his legs as you get to work.

“like a hot dad, huh?” he mumbles, all breathless and shit once you were seated in his lap, his length stretching you perfectly. a hand reaches up to wipe away the remaining of his previous climax on the corner of your lips. you throw your head in the crook of his neck, the pleasure of your hips rolling skillfully against his hitting you bad. “you could’ve just asked, lovely. wanna make me a daddy?”

you manage a shaky nod when he begins to meet your hips halfway.

a hand trails up from your waist to garb your neck, squeezing deliciously as he pulls you away from his neck to take a good look at you. “words, my love.”

“yes,” you nod, eyes closed in bliss. one of your hands grab the wrist of the hand around your neck. “wan’ make y-you a…hhah… daddy.”

“fffuuck…” he groans out when you squeeze around him, letting himself gather enough strength before he throws you off of him and onto the sofa. when your thighs are squeezed together at the painful loss of contact, a palm falls on one of them, leaving a flushed mark in its wake.

“open wide, baby.” he grabs a hold of his cock while he holds the back of your opening thigh to keep the pair apart. the years upon years in the survey corps leave you as flexible as you can be, so when he presses your thigh back, your joints bend easily at his will. pumping himself a few times as he gazes at your glistening folds, another groan breaks out from deep in his chest.

“god, look at you.” he rolls his hips in, and you feel him slip through so pleasurably that you can’t hold back the loud whimper that escapes you.

because damn, how could you not from this view? this is a face of a determined, pussy-drunk man. sweat broke on his forehead, a few strands sticking to the skin while the rest of his hair falls around his face perfectly. you see a ting of pain on his features, and you scatter to try to change your position for a more comfortable one for him, but he is quickly pushing you back down to the couch, a hand falling to your lower abdomen.

the pressure he puts there makes you forget your own name, and it shows on the way your body shivers with bliss. his thrusts increase in velocity, the maddening roll of his hips against yours throwing you in a whole other dimension.

a hand reaches out to grab yours, and through the dizzying pleasure, you realize that levi is pressing your own hand to your abdomen underneath his.

“look how deep inside am i,” he grumbles, leaning down to press a kiss on your bouncing tits. you feel his length stroke in and out of you the more levi puts pressure on your hand. “taking me so well. always so well, baby.”

he takes control of your hand once more, feeling you squeeze familiarly around him, and he pushes your fingers through his hair. you yank on the strands immediately, pulling out a fucking growl out of the man as he leans down until your chests were touching, putting a bit of his body weight on you for support.

you latch onto him like a koala, the burn of your core muscles stretching as he pushes you in a mating press mixes well with your pleasure-high brain. levi kisses, licks, bites down on your neck to leave marks you’ll have trouble hiding later, but you don’t give a shit. you arch your neck more, letting out a long moan when he nips at a certain spot, the bliss turning you mad.

levi is breathless. his puffs of air fan your face when he brings his face on top of yours. a whimper escapes past his lips, his features twisted with pleasure uncontrollably, and you drown in the sounds he makes.

“wann’ make you a mommy too,” he mumbles, open lips landing on the corner of your lips. “wanna…hhah… fill you up. over,” he pauses, delivering an especially harsh thrust that you feel at your cervix. “and over again.”

“levi, i’m so—,”

your body begins to curl into him, eyes closing uncontrollably, and the poor man barely has any chance to ready himself for the way you tighten impossibly around him as you give him your first climax.

your body shivers and quivers, shaking as he overstimulates you chasing after his own pleasure. he leans back up, hands harshly grabbing your lips as he manages to pull you even deeper, and you tightness milk him.

it isn’t the first time he cums inside you, but this one sure hits different. after a few more thrusts that manage to abuse your cervix, levi stills stiffly with a strong groan, and you feel his warmth coat your walls .

he gives you a few more deep strokes as he leans down to kiss you deeply, making sure he fucks all his load deep enough.

his hips still once more, but you keep devouring his lips. weak moans are erupted from both of you as you two calm down gradually, before levi throws sway your attempts of calming down your still-raging arousal when he pulls away, leans up, and slowly pulls out of you.

and he watches the mixture of both your orgasams begin to pool out of you, and you watch as he takes two fingers to push everything back in. you shamelessly roll your hips against bis digits once more.

he looks up at you, fingers still engulfed, snd a smirk takes over his handsome features.

“one more time for good measures?”

“Nine months,” Caleb murmured, staring at the tiny baby in his arms. His baby. Their baby. His eyes were shining with awe—but his voice carried a hint of betrayal. “Nine months inside your mom’s womb… only to come out looking exactly like me.”

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your lips curling up into a soft smile. Your attention remained fixed on the minimally interesting documentary playing on the TV. “Good job, baby.”

“Good job?” He continued to pace in circles while cradling the baby. Caleb ran a finger along his son’s cheek, gently poking it, amazed by how soft and chubby it was. “It’s not that I don’t like him—he’s cute, and I love him. But I wanted a mini-you running around the house, giving me headaches. Instead, I replicated myself.”

“Yeah, sometimes genetics do that.” You replied, starting to feel a little sorry for your husband. “Besides, he hasn’t even turned one month old yet, maybe he’ll pick up my personality or some other trait of mine?”

Caleb sat down next to you, careful not to disturb the pillows surrounding you. “You think?” He spoke a little too loudly, then flinched as he felt the baby stir, waking up. Slowly, his tiny eyelids fluttered open, granting his dad a glimpse of his purple irises.

There was a long silence between you, the only sound being the narrator’s voice echoing through the room.

You took a deep breath, trying to suppress a laugh. Caleb held one of the baby’s tiny hands, attempting to entertain him. “Your genes didn’t even try…”

++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] sukuna wants to bone you and he makes it yuji’s problem.

[cws] fem reader. masturbation -> yuji. sukuna has vivid fantasies about reader v.v

Yuji thinks you’re a nice girl.

You’re funny, cute, sweet, and you’ve put him on his ass a few times during training and left him thoroughly impressed.

But he doesn’t like you … like, like you like you.

You’re cool to hang out with, play games with, train with, and sometimes he prefers you over Megumi when he’s thinking of getting up to some mischief—all in all, you’re a good friend, but that’s all he sees you as, a friend, and he’s sure you feel the same about him.

…

So why can’t he stop fisting his cock to thoughts of you? Because of that damned curse taking up residence inside of him — the dirty pervert.

Sukuna’s got a thing for you, a nasty thing that puts lewd images in Yuji’s mind and makes his hands and cock ache to touch you. And Yuji doesn’t want to think about these things, no! He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look on your knees, teary eyes looking up at him as your lips stretch wide around his cock. He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look knuckle deep in your pussy, back arched and toes pointed as you fucked yourself. He doesn’t want to think about how tight and warm and soft and perfect your cunt would feel wrapped around him, no, he doesn’t want to think about any of those things!

But that’s all Sukuna thinks about, everyday all day - Yuji gets no reprieve.

If he sees you in the morning, your usual smile on your face as you greet him with a ‘hey, itadori!’, an image of your smiling face is flashing through his mind, except this time there’s spurts of cum on your swollen lips and your tongue is lolling out, eagerly waiting for more.

If he happens to glance over at the wrong —right, Sukuna always snarks back— moment during training and see that Maki’s got you bent in a precarious position, suddenly all he can see is images of his cock slamming in and out of your cunt, puffy lips slick and your cum coating his base, coarse hairs there weighed down with his and yours essence.

It’s sick, perverted, and he can’t do a thing about it but what he’s doing right now in the privacy of his dorm; choking back moans as he fucks his fist to the thought of you, hips bucking up off the bed as Sukuna pushes forth an image of you sat atop him, doughy thighs bracketed around his hips, fingers splayed out on his chest as you meet his thrusts.

He swears he can feel it, feel you - feel the heat of your cunt wrapping around him, feel your slick coating his shaft and dripping down to his balls, feel your nails digging into his skin as your pussy flutters and you come—

“Fuck me.” Yuji doesn’t know if that came from him or Sukuna, and he doesn’t have time to think about it before another image is flashing, this one starring you with your face pushed down into the pillows, purple nails contrasting perfectly against your skin as he spreads your cheeks open to watch your cunt swallow up his cock.

Yuji groans as his thumb, big and calloused, roughly swipes over his leaking tip, hand tightening around his base as his heels dig into his mattress. There’s a pulling feeling at his cheek, and a fierce heat envelopes him as Sukuna’s deep drawl filters out in the room.

His words are rough, quick, breathy, and Yuji desperately wishes he’d shut the hell up because he doesn’t want to think about how ‘warm your pussy is’, or how it ‘probably squeezes real tight when you come’, or how your ‘tits bounce when you’re getting fucked’, or how you’ll probably ‘squeal, moan and cry like some bitch in heat when he plays with your little clit’—you’re his friend, and he yours, and it’s so fucking wrong to be thinking of you like this, and it’s all because of him.

The next and final image is a quick flash, no more than a second or two, and Yuji snaps his eyes shut as his teeth grind together, veins along the backs of his hand bulging as his cock twitches in his grip. Ah.

Your thighs are spread, gapped open and limp against the ruined sheets, while two of his fingers spread your lips open, a white gush of cum dripping out of your stretched hole and trailing down between your ass cheeks.

Yuji shudders, eyes slowly blinking open to see the mess he’s made on his stomach and chest, and he lets out a weak groan as he turns to bury his sweaty face into his pillow, already dreading the next onslaught of images that’re sure to bombard him soon.

Kinda want to ride Arthur on his throne rn

brooooooooo.

this is a fucking need and not a want. wdym??

hello, Arthur bouncing you on his lap without a care in the world. He tried to protect your modesty by wrapping his cloak around you, but each sharp thrust into you had the silk fabric slipping from your shoulders, threatening to expose your naked and flushed skin. It makes a possessive growl leave his mouth and then he's pulling you closer, trapping you on his cock with heavy hands clamped on your thighs.