The LADS Guys Making You Dinner!!!! What Would They Make, How Well Would They Do?

“why am i dizzy” i ask myself, as if i do not simply have the Dizzy Disorder

Thinking about Xavier’s breeding kink

you had just been on your phone in the bed scrolling through Instagram when you came up on a reel

“all men have breeding kinks it just needs to be unlocked”

You scoff at it a little, that’s kind of a bold statement to make, you think to yourself

But then you put two and two together, all the times Xavier had preferred coming inside you, how his eyes gleam like an ocean in the night sky when he sees you interacting with children

Xavier has a breeding kink

And you’re gonna unlock it.

Step 1 get him in bed, pretty easy if there was any activity xavier loved in the bed more than sleeping it was fucking you.

Step 2 allude to pregnancy and or breeding.

Xavier was in between your thighs length aligned with your core about to push inside you

“hey honey, i haven’t been able to fill the prescription for my birth control for a couple weeks, but it’s fine you can still come inside me.”

“ I mean a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing huh”

And that’s how you ended up here..

“ Fuck, that’s it” he moans out as he pounds into you at an undetectable rhythm

Xavier wasn’t usually primal but this was a primal urge , like a leopard chasing its prey.

Your hands clawing at his back

Sobs of pleasure coming out of your mouth as he grips your hips.

“ ngh , so full of your cock” you moan out

Xavier’s pace quickens somehow not even knowing that was possible at the rate he’s going

“ let me make you a mommy” he moans close to your ear

“ it’s what you want hm, it’s what you need, your womb craves my seed?” He ask so honestly like he genuinely needs the confirmation.

“ fuck , yes need your babies, need you to make me a mommy” you say breathlessly words slightly broken up as Xavier’s pounds are relentless

That’s all it takes for him

His thrusts are even more frantic but somehow more sensual like he wants to paint your walls with his seed up and down, he wasn’t fucking you anymore he was making love to you.

“ you’re perfect my star, gonna look so good carrying my baby, gonna give you everything all of me-“

As he’s cut off by your orgasms intertwining

You falling apart underneath him as he pumps you full of his cum, squirt after squirt , rope after rope

Your gummy insides so weak from his cock not even fighting just taking all that he can give like your cunt nutritionally needs it.

“ that’s it honey, I’ve got you” he says running his fingers along your hip bone before pulling out

Immediately sticking his fingers in your cunt as to block the exit making sure there was no other choice but for it to pass through to your womb.

After he’s decided your cunt had efficiently taken his bearings , he gives it a couple pats as if it had just had a full meal.

He flops down next to you kissing up your neck

“ my princess, did so good. So full and leaky”

So all men having a breeding kink may be up for debate but what wasn’t was if Xavier had one or not, because that was definitely a yes.

Masterlist

Notes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated but never expected 🤍

Taglist 🏷️ @calistaxoxo24 @mariojins @nezuswritingdesk @swaggyv1v1

@ashsillyrants @wintereve3 @deejse @lucidreamsea @monsochhichi @sxkura-blxssxm @princessofenkanomiya @yeompei @lady-wallace @weepingangel2222 @eolivy @inspiredfairy @wordsgodeep

PAIRINGS. . . xavier x reader

CW. . . smut, small spoon!xavier, kinda sub!xavier

xavier was soft in your arms—literally and figuratively.

curled into your chest, his back flush against your front, legs tangled under the blankets. his breathing was even, gentle. like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep so quickly, but your arms around him and the steady stroke of your fingers along his chest made it impossible not to.

your hand was tucked under his shirt, fingers spread across the warm skin of his torso, right over his heart where his heartbeat pulsed soft under your palm, which wandered lower a few beats later.

he was already hard when you found him, cock flushed and heavy where it curved against his stomach. you pressed a slow, featherlight kiss to the back of his neck and wrapped your fingers around him.

xavier stirred with a soft, strained grunt, hips twitching the tiniest bit into your palm. you smiled.

“shh,” you whispered gently, letting your fingers slide down his length and back up again, dragging him gently from sleep into something needier.

he whimpered when your thumb passed over the head, already slick from the way he’d started to leak, coating your fingers.

your hand worked him in a smooth rhythm, slow and teasing at first, just enough pressure to make him ache. he moaned—quiet, restrained, muffled into the pillow—and you knew he was trying to hold it in.

so you slid your free arm under his neck, hand curling around his face, fingers brushing his lips gently. “open,” you whispered. “let me hear you.”

xavier’s mouth fell open without hesitation, his tongue wrapping around your fingers, moaning low and desperate into them as your other hand jerked him a little faster.

you curled around him tighter, chin tucked into the crook of his neck, whispering soft praises right against his skin.

he was trembling in your arms now, his cock twitching with every pass of your hand, your fingers slick, your breath warm on his throat. his hips started to stutter forward, fucking your fist now, quiet little choked sounds spilling out around your fingers, exactly the way you wanted.

“can’t—” he gasped, biting on your fingers. “m’fuck, i’m close.”

when he fell apart—body trembling in your arms, cock twitching in your hand, spilling into your palm with stuttering, gasped moans—you held him tight the whole time. your mouth on his shoulder. your hand slowly stroking him through it until his hips twitched from overstimulation and he had to whimper your name to make you stop.

he let your fingers slip from his mouth, jaw slack and flushed, turning just enough to look at you with those dazed eyes.

“…fuck,” he whispered.

you smiled and wrapped yourself around him, nuzzling the juncture where neck meets shoulder. “back to sleep, baby.”

commissions ⋆˚꩜ send me a kofi !

meme ft my MC 🤓

"boypussy positivity this, girldick appreciation that" that's great, yeah. but are you supportive of trans people who have gotten/want to get bottom surgery? are you respectful of trans people with severe genital dysphoria who would greatly prefer it if you simply didn't mention their genitals? answer carefully.

Doctors should snark at each other more, be a bit mean. Not for no reason, mind you. But if five doctors blow me off about symptoms and doctor number six FINALLY runs actual tests and gets a diagnosis, I think it should be Doctor Six's right to call up the other five and tell them they're lazy pieces of shit. That should be socially encouraged. Those first five doctors clearly can't listen to patients, but maybe another doctor might finally get to them.

Smart Enough

Synopsis: Dr. Zayne has an incredible mind, incredible physique and an incredible stamina. Having a pretty thing on his arm at all times is just a perk.

Warnings: Dumbification, Zayne is a Hard!Dom, size-difference, choking, filming, not for everyone, Y/n is sort of a crybaby, drooling.

As your fiancé, Zayne is a handsome doctor with an impressive physique, especially when it’s hidden under that white lab quote. He's tall, muscular, and you can't help but obsess over how much bigger he is than you. “Y/n, stop trying to get me to flex for pictures."

The way he says it is so cold. He’s relaxing, for once, in his home office chair. He just finished a workout, he tried to never miss a day no matter how tired he was from work. Y/n pouts, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Pleaseeee? I always like showing you off.”

Zayne looks up from his laptop, those piercing blue eyes meeting yours with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “And I always tell you I'm not here for your'showing off'. It's not professional." Despite his serious tone, there's a small smirk playing at his lips.

But behind closed doors, with the night casts a shadow over them, he changes. Your phone is propped on a tripod, angled just enough to show your cock drunk expression. His arm is around your throat, the muscle squishing your face as he drills you from behind.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Zayne's grip around your throat tightens slightly, his voice low and husky in your ear. “See, this is what you want. Not some fucking Instagram post."

Zayne slows his thrusts, his hand sliding down to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at the screen. Your face is a mess of pleasure, his arm a thick band around your neck. He snaps a picture, the flash momentarily blinding you. “Perfect."

Your drooling, pupils dilated from the ecstacy. “S-so meannn Zay-!”

He chuckles darkly, his thumb wiping away the drool from your chin before bringing it to his own lips, sucking it clean. “You love it when I'm mean to you, don't you?" His hips snap forward, bottoming out inside you as his arm squeezes your throat.

You don’t want to admit it. Zayne is the smartest man you’ve ever met, maybe in the entire world. Knocking yourself down a peg is something that gives you a deep satisfaction. “N-Nu uh!”

Zayne throws his head back with a laugh.

God, you're cute.

He pulls out slightly, then snaps his hips hard. "You know what your problem is?" He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. "You have no self respect. No filter."

You are whimpering as he releases your throat from his arms, instead he tangles his surgeon steady fingers into her your, pulling your head back so you are staring in the camera.

His fingers tighten in your hair, making you whimper. The camera captures your disheveled look - your mouth open, eyes half-lidded and slightly glassy, cheeks red. "Look at you," Zayne mutters, taking another picture. "No brain. No filter."

“I-I’m smart!” You sound like you are trying to convince yourself more than your surgeon fiancé

Zayne laughs again, his thumb spreading your drool over your chin. "Mhmm. And how many degrees do you have?" He asks mockingly, his hips moving slow and deep. "One?" He smirks. "Two?" He pulls back slightly, waiting for your answer.

You choke back a sob when his cock curved just right into your drooling walls. “N-none…”

Zayne's smirk grows wider, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and dominance. "Exactly," he says, his voice low and mocking. "And how many do I have?" He thrusts harder, emphasizing each word. "Four. Fucking. Degrees."

Zayne was a fucking child-prodigy of medical knowledge. But you, you were his pretty little Hunter that looked perfect on his cock.

His smirk softens slightly. "God, you're an airhead," He mutters, snapping another picture of your disheveled, half-crazed look. "One hundred fifty published papers. Surgeon at twenty seven. And you?" He laughs, his thumb pushing into your mouth.

"You're cute. Absolutely adorable. And so fucking stupid." His thrusts pick up speed, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you drool even more. He captures another photo, then pulls your hair harder.* "You know what else you are?"

You are so far gone, if your life ended right that second, you wouldn’t give a single shit.

“The love of my life.” He bends your head back and captures your mouth in a heated kiss. His cock twitches inside of you, and he cums.

He breaks the kiss, panting as he fills you up with his release. He holds the camera up, taking a picture of you all - him looking intense and satisfied, you looking absolutely wrecked and filled with his cum. He sets the camera down and gently pulls out of you.

You whimper, coming down from a very deep sub space. You’re shivering, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away.

He watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, come here," he says gently, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. "You did so well, baby."

You immediately seeks his comfort, burying your face in his shoulder. His skin is sometimes cold to the touch, but there is no place you’d rather be. “D-did I do good?”

He nods, his arms tightening around you. "You did amazing," he murmurs, nuzzling into your hair. "I'm so proud of you. My pretty little Hunter, so obedient and perfect." He rocks you gently, his cold hands rubbing up and down your back to warm you up.

His voice dips, like he’s talking to one of his young patients in the pediatric ward.

His voice softens, taking on that gentle, almost paternal tone he reserves for his youngest patients and... apparently, his submissive fiancée when she's in a vulnerable state. “There we go... shh... my good girl..."

“Zayne?”

“Hm?”

“Am I smart?”

“Get some sleep, Princess.”

very funny (irritating) to me that everyone whined and yelled about stupid rainbow capitalism and how performative wokeness/allyship is a net bad we should all refuse to support and now like.

tumblr is doing nothing for pride and target isn't selling much (if any) of their pride collection offline except at certain stores (in democratic areas, basically) and build a bear has a much tinier collection than normal and all the actual pride stuff is on their "adult" website (not sure if it's in stores, but pride = adult is a hell of a message)

there are genuinely good criticisms for performative allyship in all its applications. it shouldn't be the only thing we expect from people and companies. but if all the shit I see being called performative stopped tomorrow then in terms of the LGBTQ+ community especially we just. wouldn't talk about queerness or queer issues or celebrate pride or do anything.

open your fucking eyes. we are very close politically to having gay marriage rolled back. now companies are basically being let off the hook to even make a miniscule effort (which matters to the people who don't have access to any other kind of support in their communities! which normalizes the community in public spaces!) because the only reaction they have gotten over the last few years are negative ones from BOTH sides.

we are so entrenched in discourse at all times for the sake of our OWN performance of who is the wokest and who is REALLY an ally or a good community member that we have basically handed over all the work of activists of the last several decades to the other side because we'd rather scream at each other over fucking chicken restaurants and shit than the real life backsliding that's happening.

and this goes for other shit too. feminism, poc rights, all of it.

also. trans rights aren't discourse and aren't just culture war arguments. in case any terfs think they can spin this to be antitrans.

Society: be yourself!

Me as a child: *be’s myself*

Society: ewww omg what is wrong with you! We said to be yourself not weird! We’re gonna reject you and make you an outsider!

Me: but I followed your rule of being myself? Why don’t you like me? What’s wrong with me? Why does everyone else get the rules that need to be followed but I don’t?