huntersmoon1

[huntersmoon1]

08/17/25; 10:23pm

sylus qin x fem.reader

notes: it’s been so long since i wrote a solo sylus fic 😭 i miss him so muchhh (;﹏;) this is going to be a simple unedited thirst post / drabble inspired by lovespeed ride.

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @madam8

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

your heart was still pounding-

adrenaline felt coursing through your veins when you crash landed into the ocean.

yet instead of drowning, sylus was the one who held you close to his chest, breaking through the shallow waters with an almost bored expression on his face.

without loosening his grip on you, you began to giggle, seeing the bits of seaweed that clings to his hair. removing them from his silvery strands, you lightly taunt him, “i never thought i’d see the powerful onychinus boss-man take a tumble.”

“…and you’ll be held accountable for this.”

you tilt your head at him, ready to reply with your own snarky words when the sight of something shimmering jump through the ocean’s surface catches your attention.

“ah… look over there! it’s the pink dolphins we were trying to find!”

sylus stops his trek toward the shores, allowing you to admire the scene while chuckling softly. keeping you within his embrace, he simply takes a moment to admire your features while bathed beneath the glow of the setting sun. like a man starved, he drinks in the sight of your eyes, watching as they glimmer with admiration for the dolphin’s seemingly endless dance.

with your lips still parted, sylus waits for a few more minutes before taking you back to the shores. filled to the brim with love for you, he wanted to spend these next few hours worshipping you with the ocean as his sole witness.

finding the perfect spot against the shoreline, sylus places you against the damp sands, taking a hold of your hand before placing a series of kisses at the back of them.

“today has been nothing short of an adventure with you, my little dove. if you’ll allow me, i’d like to show you just how deeply in love i am with you with this paradise as our witness.” your breathing hitches when sylus flashes you a genuine smile, his touch achingly soft as he traces at your cheek with the back of his hand.

“y-yes… i’d like that, sy.” a lazy grin spreads across his full lips, feeling them press against yours in a soft kiss before his hands roamed down your body. he takes his time admiring your form, breathing turning labored when he manages to unclasp your bikini while sliding down your silky bottoms, leaving you utterly bare for him.

the scent of your honey sweet arousal was what hit him first, causing him to growl lowly as he gently traces at your pussy lips with his fingertips. you began to softly mewl below him, arching your back the moment he slides his middle finger within your folds, pumping them while collecting your essence with a cocky smirk.

“you’re already so wet for me.” he adds another finger within your heat, the scissoring motion causing your moans to echo as you land back into the soft sands.

“sy, sand is going to get everywhere- ngh… hah!” sylus merely speeds up his movements at the sound of your protest, not stopping until he felt your walls clenching oh so sweetly around his fingertips. letting out a high pitched keen, you spilled yourself onto the palm of his hands with a reckless abandon, shivering when you heard sylus’s deep chuckle when he asks, “then shall we take our little tryst back into the waters?”

your eyes go wide as heat was felt against your cheeks. “y-you can’t be serious…!”

“oh but i am, kitten.” with one last pinch against your swollen clit, he removes his fingers from your soaked walls, earning a breathy whine from you. sylus takes a moment to admire how your climax had made his digits shinier, making a show of licking them clean before pulling you by your ankles.

with that single motion alone, sylus brushes his clothed erection against your inner thigh, making you moan at the sudden contact. a smug expression paints his features when he pulls you even closer to him, already standing back to his full height while taking you within his embrace.

with one swift motion of his hands, he frees himself from the confines of his swim shorts before heading back into the ocean. he doesn’t stop until you were both half submerged in the waters. you could feel the cold temperature surrounding you-

but the body heat that sylus was exuding made it more bearable. with his muscular form pressed so closely to you, it only served to make the ache between your legs all the more prominent. lifting you with ease within his arms, sylus begins lavishing your breasts with desperate kisses.

his tongue was felt eagerly wrapping around the hardened bud of your nipples, with goosebumps erupting all across your skin when you felt his canines lightly tracing over the curve of your breasts. and each time he gently suckles at them, you swore that you felt a rush of blood rushing toward your cunt, seeming to pulsate with need for him.

“sylus… please…”

sylus ignores your pleas, still focused on lavishing your breasts with equal amounts of affection. when he removes your nipple from his hot mouth, he immediately switches over to its twin, his tongue felt curling around its bud as well. your breathing became even more labored now, trembling slightly when you felt sylus’s free hand slowly traveling down your body.

when the calloused palm of his hands cups at your aching sex, you knew you wouldn’t last another second.

the sensation of his mouth against your skin coupled along with the sudden intrusion of his thick fingers inside of your pulsating walls was enough to bring you toward a breaking point. with just a simple bite and pinch on your clit, you arch your back and spilled your juices into his hand, earning a grunt of approval from sylus.

with you feeling like absolute putty now, sylus finally relinquishes your breast from his hot mouth. he ends up licking at his lips, gently massaging your inner thighs before turning you around. you were now completely facing the ocean view, your mind still in a pleasured daze as you felt like you were floating (like you were in a dream.)

hearing sylus say your name as he spread your legs wider for him, you began to tremble with anticipation. “just keep your eyes on paradise as i work on taking you straight to heaven, my love.”

and when you felt sylus slowly push his girthy cock within your heat, you felt every inch of him filling you up just right. taking advantage of his strength, he bounces you up and down his cock, fulfilling his promises of making love to you while in paradise as you prayed that this moment would never end.

end notes: i do not have this card, i am simply living vicariously through tiktok at this point 😭

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[huntersmoon1]

Headcanons for Jamil when dealing with his s/o's abusive ex. As in the ex that only lasted for a week, controlling jealous asshole, and stalked them for years while ruining every other attempted romance for s/o. The ex that made the s/o turn to Jamil and say "you have my full permission to be as possessive as you want (pda, hickies, whole show), feel free to shove it in his face that I love you and destroy him."

ohhh wow okay... cracks knuckles, pours some tea, lights a protective cinnamon-scented candle 🐍🖤

Jamil isn't usually the possessive type. not openly. he doesn't like drawing attention to himself, or to you — not unless he's dancing, not unless it's calculated. but the second he hears about your ex...?

The second you tell him what your ex did, what they still try to do — the stalking, the sabotage, the jealousy, the control — that quiet little ember in his chest ignites into something cold and purposeful and sharp. “...so he thought he could own you?”

His voice doesn’t rise. but something in the air drops ten degrees.

He’s not dramatic. he’s not loud. he’s surgical.

Jamil doesn’t rage — he plots.

And oh, you just gave him permission to stop holding back.

When you look him in the eye — tired and raw and finally done being polite — and say: “you have my full permission to be as possessive as you want. make it loud. make him watch.”

It’s like flipping a switch.

“...alright then,” he says. softly.

And then his hands are on your waist, pulling you into him like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed.

It starts there.

Oh, he used to keep it subtle. a pinky brush here, a stolen glance there, maybe a hand on your back when no one was looking.

But now? he makes sure everyone sees it.

his arm is around your waist when you walk.

his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes, tugging you closer like he can’t bear to let you drift even a foot away.

in the hallway? you’re against the wall, lips bruised and breathless, and jamil’s mouth is smirking into yours because he knows people are watching — and he wants your ex to feel it like a slap.

When your ex tries to get close? even look in your direction? Jamil’s mouth is on your neck in seconds, slow and deliberate. A possessive kiss, teeth; a hickey he wants them to see.

He’s not being sweet. he’s staking a claim. “Don’t look at them,” he’ll say, not even facing the ex.

“They’re mine. You had your chance. You ruined it.”

He doesn’t need to yell, he doesn’t need to threaten.

Jamil weaponizes his presence. the way he looms, leans in, keeps a hand low on your back like a silent challenge.

Like: you touch them again and I will end you, and no one doubts he means it.

He understands what it’s like to feel like your life isn’t yours. to be controlled, watched, twisted into someone else's image. “No one owns you. Not even me. But if you want me to show him that he has no power left... I will.”

He gives you agency. always. even in his possessiveness.

His kisses say, I’m here.

His touches say, You’re safe.

His smirk says, He’s watching? Good.

His eyes say, *You’re not alone anymore. You have me.

Your ex makes one last mistake, tries to confront you, corner you, say something vile.

Jamil steps in like a shadow behind you, eyes glowing. “You should leave,” he says. “Before I decide not to be civilized.”

And then he does something small — something tiny that destroys the ex's ego more than any punch ever could:

he kisses you. slowly. deeply. in front of them.

one hand on your cheek. the other on your waist.

you smile into it.“See?” you whisper. “This is real. You never were.”

You once flinched at the thought of being “claimed.” Now, you feel loved, protected, chosen.

And Jamil? he might be possessive now — just a little, but only because you asked him to be.

And he’s more than happy to remind the world that you’re his, every single day. “You gave me permission,” he murmurs, pressing a new kiss to your collarbone, “and I don’t take that lightly.”

[huntersmoon1]

for idia, ace, jamil, and malleus. "Ass or tits" which ones are the four picking?

Ass or tits, a question asked since the beginning of time!! Let's go!!

NSFW and suggestive.

+++

I feel like Idia doesn't really care about much, but I know in my gut this dude is a 100% a tiddies-in-my-mouth man. Soft? Check. Does he like to knead on it? Yes! Sometimes you're talking to him and he just finds himself nodding as he stares intently at your chest. Huh, where are you saying something about needing money? Sure, he says as he hands you a metal card with a black and platinum engravings on it and tells you to spend it on whatever you want, all while his eyes are glued on your chest. Expect bite marks, ALL OVER IT. His teeth are not sharp for nothing. But the most important reason why he likes your boobs a little too much is because he can hear your heartbeat whenever he lays his head on your chest, and Idia absolutely loves it.

Ace is a fan of both, but once he saw you in shorts during one, hot summer morning, one of your ass cheeks was molding against the fabric, oh boy, Ace had been an ass-man since then. What? Your ass reminds him of those orange basketballs, and he often finds himself wishing he is dribbling your cheeks instead.

Definitely an ass man, plus points if you let Jamil snuggle on your belly. There's something about the way you move your hips whenever you're dancing with him, it's almost... hypnotizing. Jamil loves your face of course, but everything from your waist below just puts him in a trance because whenever he's stressed, he often fantasizes that you're sitting on his face instead.

The prince of Fae likes suckling on your tits! Maybe it's because he didn't experience what it's like to have... err a mother figure taking care of him when he was a wee dragon, but now he knows the maternal appeal of sucking your tiddies. He loves dragging his dragon tongue over your mounds and he likes to playfully bite your nipples using his fangs, when you say it hurts he is quick to soothe you with magic. The cycle of pain and pleasure repeats until he is satiated. On the days where he loves to shower you with affection, he loves pressing his face in-between your two mounds as he press chaste kisses on where your heart lies.

[huntersmoon1]

Headcannon request pls? 🥺🥺🥺 I’m hard of hearing and would love to see the Saja Boys reactions to reader asking to feel their throat to feel the vibrations when they sing, to “hear” their voices without the background music. Thx!!!!!!

OHHHH my gosh this is such a sweet request 🥺💖 you just made my heart do little somersaults. I absolutely love the idea and I hope I can do it justice for you!!

Jinu

You explain it softly, hands making a few signs out of habit while you speak, because sometimes your words don’t come fast enough — not when it matters. “I want to… feel your throat when you sing,” you say, looking up at him with that little nervous crease between your brows. “Without the music. Just… you.”

Jinu doesn’t answer right away. For a second you think maybe you’ve overstepped — but then he blinks, slow, and there’s this shift in him. His usual cocky spark dims, not gone, but tempered into something careful. His eyes flicker from your lips to your hands, making sure he caught every bit of what you said. “You mean… so you can hear me through touch?” he asks, voice gentler now.

You nod.

He doesn’t just say yes. He steps closer, closing the space until you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. Then he reaches for your hand, fingers brushing yours in that deliberate way he has — the way that makes you aware of every nerve in your skin — and guides it up, settling it lightly against the base of his throat. His pulse is steady under your fingertips.

When he starts to sing, it’s not his usual stage voice — not the sharp, explosive energy you’ve seen him throw at crowds. It’s softer, slower, each note like a wave rolling through him and into you. The vibrations travel into your palm, up your arm, deep enough that for a moment it feels like the music is inside your chest instead of your ears.

Jinu doesn’t look away while he sings. His gaze stays fixed on your face, watching your reactions more than focusing on the lyrics. And you realize — he’s not singing to you. He’s singing with you. Letting you share his voice in the one way you can fully feel it.

Abby

You catch him between rehearsals, when his hair’s still messy from practice and his hoodie’s hanging loose on one shoulder. Abby’s leaning against the wall, sipping from a water bottle, eyes half-lidded like he’s in that post-performance haze where everything slows down.

You hesitate a second too long, and he notices. “What?” he asks, not sharp — more curious, with that lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I… want to feel your voice,” you say finally, the words tumbling out quieter than you intended. His brow furrows, so you add, “When you sing. I can’t always catch it perfectly with the music. But if I feel it here—” you motion over your own throat, “—I can hear it in my own way.”

For a moment, Abby just stares. Then that grin of his softens into something slower, warmer. “Come here,” he says, pushing off the wall.

He doesn’t wait for you to make the first move — he reaches out, catching your wrist gently and pulling you a step closer. The scent of sweat and faint cologne clings to him, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache. He guides your hand up, resting it against the side of his neck just under his jaw. His skin is hot from exertion, his pulse steady beneath your fingertips.

“You ready?” he murmurs, voice already vibrating faintly under your hand.

When he starts to sing, it’s lower than usual — not the sharp, high-energy tone from the stage, but a deep, controlled hum that blooms into words. The vibrations roll through your palm, steady and resonant, like they’re traveling straight into your bones. Abby watches your face the entire time, eyes sharp and searching, as if measuring every flicker of reaction.

Without thinking, you press your hand a little closer, and he shifts, tilting his head slightly so you have more contact. His own hand comes up, fingers wrapping over yours, holding it in place.

When the last note fades, he doesn’t drop your hand immediately. Instead, he smirks — not the cocky one from the stage, but something quieter. “Guess you’ve got my voice memorized now,” he says, like it’s a secret you just stole together.

Romance

He’s sitting by the window when you find him, the soft evening light catching in his hair. There’s a notebook open on his lap, a pen between his fingers, though from the way he’s been staring out at the fading sky, you’re not sure he’s written anything in a while.

“Romance?” you say gently. He turns toward you immediately, smile blooming like he’s been waiting just for you.

You hesitate, fiddling with your sleeves before speaking. “I… was wondering if I could put my hand on your throat while you sing? Just so I can feel you — no music. It’s how I can really… hear you.”

His eyes soften, the pen sliding from his hand onto the notebook. “Of course,” he says without a moment’s pause. “Come here.” His voice is low, but warm enough to melt any trace of self-consciousness.

When you step closer, he stands, closing the small gap between you. His hands are gentle when he takes yours, turning your palm upward like it’s something delicate. He guides it to rest at the base of his throat, his pulse steady under your fingertips. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, not starting until you give him the smallest nod.

He begins softly, his voice smooth and steady, every note drawn out just enough for you to feel its shape. The vibrations are warm against your skin, a quiet rhythm that settles deep in your chest. He doesn’t take his eyes off you — not in a way that demands, but in a way that makes sure you’re there with him in every breath, every rise and fall of sound.

At one point, he tilts his head slightly, adjusting so you can catch the deeper resonance of a lower note. His hand stays over yours the entire time, thumb brushing faintly along the side of your hand as if to anchor you in the moment.

When the last note fades, he doesn’t step back. Instead, he gives you a smile so soft it feels like it could only be meant for you. “Now you know exactly what my voice feels like,” he says, almost a whisper. “I’m honored you asked.”

Mystery

He’s alone when you find him — seated on the floor of the practice room with his back against the mirrored wall, hoodie pulled up, head tipped back like he’s halfway between resting and thinking. You hesitate at the doorway, but his eyes flicker to you almost immediately, sharp and unreadable under the shadow of his hood.

You take a few steps closer, heart thudding as you explain. “When you sing… I’d like to feel you. It’s… how I can hear properly”

He doesn’t answer right away. For a moment, you think he might refuse — but then he pushes himself up slowly, closing the space between you without a word.

Mystery reaches for your hand without asking, his touch deliberate but not rough. He guides your palm up, settling it gently against the side of his throat. His skin is cool, the steady beat beneath a quiet reassurance. His eyes drop to your hand, then lift briefly to your face — a silent question, is this okay?

When you nod, he starts. No fanfare, no clearing his throat — just a low, even hum that blooms into quiet notes. The sound is so soft you barely catch it with your ears, but under your fingertips it’s alive: a slow, steady vibration, deep and grounding, like a pulse turned into music.

He keeps his gaze lowered, lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. Every so often, his hand shifts slightly over yours, pressing it a fraction closer as if to say listen here. The melody is unpolished, raw, but you feel every rise and fall in the shape of his voice.

When he stops, he doesn’t step back right away. His hand lingers over yours for a heartbeat longer, then he gently lowers it. His eyes meet yours for only a second — enough for you to catch something softer there.

Baby

You catch him in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with a lollipop in his mouth, scrolling through his phone like he’s got nowhere better to be. When you call his name, he glances up with that slow, mischievous smirk that never promises anything simple.

“What’s up?” he drawls, the nickname landing somewhere between sweet and sarcastic.

You explain — about wanting to feel his throat while he sings, about how it’s the best way for you to hear his voice without all the extra noise. His brows lift halfway through, and by the time you finish, he’s grinning like you’ve just handed him the most interesting game of the week.

“So… you want to touch my neck?” He pops the lollipop out with a quiet click, pointing it at you like a mic. “You know that sounds dangerous, right?” His tone is pure tease, but there’s no real bite to it.

Still, he steps closer, tilting his head slightly to one side. “Alright. Mess it up and you’re buying me snacks for a week.”

Before you can argue, he takes your wrist and pulls your hand up to his throat. His skin is warm, the steady thrum beneath your fingertips betraying that he’s a little more serious about this than his words suggest.

He starts to sing — not the most delicate or polished version, but Baby’s version: playful, sharp in places, then unexpectedly smooth, like he’s daring you to keep up with the shifts. The vibrations change with every line, a rollercoaster of rhythm and tone, and you feel yourself unconsciously leaning closer, following his lead.

At one point, he chuckles mid-note, the sound rumbling right into your palm. “See? You’re already hooked,” he says between lines, eyes glinting before diving back into the melody.

When he finishes, he pulls your hand away gently but doesn’t let go right away, just watching you with that half-smirk. “Told you. My voice is addictive,” he says, popping the lollipop back in like it’s the punctuation mark on the moment.

[huntersmoon1]

hello there! :D

may i ask for ypu to write aboyt the LADS men comforting you when you feel ugly cuz of a newly wound on your face? i just got cut really, really bad on my left side of my face and im feeling kinda ugly.

i mean, i see the badass vibes, but i still feel weird cuz it will leave a permanent scar on my face so i just need a little bit of comfort about it.

love everything you write, have a very nice week.

warnings: none needed, some angst, mentions of facial scarring a/n: not proofread, did my best to keep this accurate, I hope you feel better anon! And this may have been said to you a lot but beauty goes beyond what someone looks like! But I understand how hard it can be when society keeps saying 'put your best face forward'.

.ೃ࿔*:･LaDS men reacting to you having a facial scar...

.ೃ࿔*:･Zayne:

Zayne is no stranger to scars; his arms and hands are full of them, and he knows how long it took for him to come to terms with the fact that they'd never fully heal. He'd overseen your care personally, and you'd tried to be upbeat, tried to be thankful you're alive, but the scar was a reminder of everything that went wrong that day.

Zayne didn't force you to look it, nor did he keep up a continuous stream of positivity, which you appreciated, because you were just not in the mood to be positive right now. Instead, he kept you on track with your medical routine and frequently asked how you felt, pulling you into his arms when you were about to cry. You avoided looking into the mirror, except for when you had to apply the medication and change the bandages.

Now you sit in front of the vanity in your shared bedroom, eyes closed, as Zayne helps you with your nighttime skincare routine, gently massaging the rich cream into your face, his hands cool and soothing on your skin. You try not to flinch as you feel him brush the surface of your scar; it didn't hurt, but you hated that it was still there. Observing your reaction, Zayne kisses the top of your head.

"Don't look until you're ready darling. I'll keep watch until then."

.ೃ࿔*:･Sylus:

He'd gotten revenge on the person who did that to your face, but the damage was already done. Despite having the best doctors on your case, the scar was permanent, a part of your appearance forever. You'd been hiding behind a facade, trying to act tough in front of Sylus. After all, he'd dealt with far worse injuries than this, but you also couldn't help but feel resentful of the fact that he could heal himself. Sylus would never have a scar because of that ability, and though you knew it was irrational, it pissed you off that he would always look flawless while you were stuck with this mark.

Sylus had embraced the scar, telling you stories about brave warriors who proudly displayed their battle wounds as a sign of strength. He'd done his best to keep up your spirit, until one day you'd snapped at him rather nastily.

You'd screamed at him, tears pouring down your face that he'd never understand the depth of your pain because every wound he'd ever had had healed like it had never existed. You'd told him to cut the bullshit because you would never be the same again. And he'd listened impassively, but his eyes grew progressively sadder with each word that fell from your mouth. When you'd finally said your piece, Sylus pulls out a small blade from his belt and puts it in your hand. When you'd looked confusedly at him, he'd put his cheek right against the blade until droplets of blood started to form along the edge.

"Mark me then kitten. I won't heal it this time. Then we'll match."

You'd shaken your head no and dropped the blade sobbing as he gathered you in his arms.

"Tell me what to do. I'll do anything to make this right."

.ೃ࿔*:･Caleb:

There was nothing that could change about you that could make you ugly to Caleb. But he shares your grief when you were told the scar wouldn't go away. He knows when he has to be gentle, but he's also a tough-love type of person. He practically raised you after all, and he wasn't about to let a scar ruin your impression.

"We're gonna be late pipsqueak, get your shoes on!" he calls from downstairs, but you refuse to move from the bed. After almost a month of being cooped up inside, Caleb had decided to take you to a carnival to get your mind off things, but at the last minute, you'd chickened out, sitting fully dressed, but dreading the idea of going out. Caleb had been patient with you this whole time, giving you your space, privacy, boosting your morale, and becoming an errand boy to accommodate all your needs. You wished you could force yourself to go, but it was hard, imagining all the people who would stare at you.

Caleb comes back upstairs, frowning. "The lines are going to get long if we don't leave now."

"I can't Caleb. I'm sorry," you murmur, unable to look at him.

"Oh pipsqueak. Cmon it's really not that bad." He tries to coax you and you shake your head adamantly. Caleb approaches the bed and you squeal as he hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you downstairs like a sack of potatoes.

"Enough! There's nothing ugly about you! Now you can stay inside forever, or, you can accept that this isn't going away and face it head on!" He plonks you onto your feet near the door, arms crossed, and waits, towering over you. "Now what's it going to be?"

You sniff, knowing deep down he was right, and start putting on you shoes and his face softens. "I'm not being mean pipsqueak, but it hurts to see you like this."

You nod, brushing away your tears. "I know."

.ೃ࿔*:･Xavier:

Xavier is sensitive and supportive when you get news that the scar will be permanent. He asks you how you feel about everything before making a decision. Staying in or going out? Hot pot or barbecue? Mario Kart or Splatoon? Anything you say goes.

He also offers you some unconventional solutions so that you don't feel self-conscious. Once your doctor had declared you fully healed, Xavier had asked if you wanted to buy makeup. At first, you'd hesitated at the suggestion, wondering if he felt embarrassed going out with you, but he'd shaken his head no.

"I only asked because you seem to be overthinking whenever we go outside. If hiding it is what you need to face everyone, then hide it for now. Or if you don't want to hide it, don't. Either way it doesn't matter to me." He gives you a tight hug. "I just want you to feel comfortable in your skin. How that happens is up to you."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his explanation and you finally admitted what you'd hidden for so long; that you didn't want everyone to know. Xavier had nodded and had come with you to the mall. The kind cosmetics assistant spent a good amount of time helping color-match you, and Xavier stood patiently next to you as he watched her work her magic, gently buffing the color corrector and concealer over the scar until it was barely visible. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you realized you were smiling, something you hadn't done in a while.

Xavier puts his hands on your shoulders as he peers into the mirror, his own smile rivaling yours.

.ೃ࿔*:･Rafayel:

He felt it in the depths of his heart when that scar had been put on your face. How couldn't he? Your pain was his too. Which is why he hadn't pushed too hard in making you accept it. He could barely accept it himself, rage boiling deep inside of him when he remembered your retelling of what had happened that day. He blamed your team, he blamed your boss, he blamed everyone who should have taken some accountability for that day. Why was there less coverage? And why had they sent you alone?

The injustice of it all made him furious, but he never showed that side to you. Instead, he gently helped you with your recovery, changing the dressings, cleaning up the wound, and telling you that the scar would never change his love for you. It was only when you were asleep that he'd let his feelings show, spending long nights in the art studio, painting away his anger.

One night, you crept into the studio, peeking sneakily from the corner, and felt your breath catch at the sight of the painting. There you were, captured in striking detail on the canvas, except the part of your face that bore the scar had been painted to look like a garden in bloom. Long, pretty vines, all covered in flowers, were bursting from the scar, with little butterflies and honeybees flitting over them.

He turns as you approach, tears pricking your eyes, and beckons you to his side.

"Is this how you see me?"

"Yes. Because despite it all, you chose grace." He lovingly kisses the scar. "And that's a different kind of beauty, growing from your bad experiences."

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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[huntersmoon1]

08/13/25; 12:37am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they use you to relieve themselves ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: unedited; potential oocness bc it’s been a while since i’ve written for my fave boys.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

you and sylus were attending an auction, being on the lookout for the targeted protocore as you stood atop the balcony. your eyes scanned each showcased item, yet found none of them to be the protocore you were looking for.

as the minutes ticked by, you tried to mitigate your boredom with taking sips of your champagne. being focused on the auction, you were unaware of the hungry look in sylus’s eyes as he drinks in your form settled in front of him.

the black dress seemed to cling to you like a second shadow, making the tightness felt within the onychinus leader’s pants all the more noticeable.

he stirs the champagne around, drinking it in one single gulp before joining you. wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer to him. you look back to see sylus smirking down at you, ready to ask him what was wrong when the sudden hardness felt pressing against your backside takes your very breath away.

“sy, what are you doing- ngh!” the feeling of his large hand suddenly spreading your thighs apart makes the glass of champagne fall from your hands, shattering completely when sylus pulls up your dress. he moves aside your panties while whispering hotly within your ear.

“luke and kieran have just notified me to the protocore’s change of location. this auction has been nothing but a waste of time for both of us.”

you were ready to scold him for his actions, yet found that even your own words failed you the moment sylus unbuckles his belt, freeing his erection just seconds later before tracing at your cunt with the tip of his cock.

“but this whole auction may not be such a bad event after all. you look positively divine, sweetie.”

with those final words, you felt a sharp gasp escape from your lips the moment sylus impales you with his cock, setting a brutal pace as you were left bracing yourself on the marble railing of the balcony, your mewls and moans of his name going unnoticed as the auctioneer continued to showcase each item to the guests.

and with the thought of being caught in doing such hedonistic acts in public, you felt your walls clench in sweet anticipation.

you and zayne were in the midst of a heated make out session, with your lover blowing off some steam after a particularly difficult shift at work.

it was late into the night, and neither one of you expected any visitors when you allowed zayne to slowly take off your blouse. his sights were set on taking removing your bra when a series of knocks were heard against his door.

“dr. zayne? it’s me, greyson. i just had some questions about these abnormal lab results.”

without saying another word, you hid yourself beneath zayne’s desk as he adjusts his glasses. “come in, greyson.”

remaining quiet, you listen as zayne spoke to his colleague. medical jargon was heard being tossed around, and you didn’t have the slightest clue what any of it meant. getting on your knees to be in a more comfortable position, you look between zayne’s legs-

only to notice the tent within his scrubs.

a mischievous grin crosses your features when you inch closer to him, kissing his erection through his pants. your actions earn a slight jolt from zayne, prompting greyson to ask if something was wrong with him.

“i’m fine, greyson. continue your report.” zayne manages to speak through gritted teeth when you manage to slide down his pants, your actions remaining hidden from beneath the desk as you pulled down his boxers in the process, freeing his erection.

not wasting another second, you take the entirety of his cock within your mouth, basking in the way zayne was holding back his groans. somehow, despite your ministrations, zayne manages to finish his conversation with greyson being none the wiser. once he leaves, zayne returns his full attention back to you, face completely flushed as he placed a hand on your head.

“you’re going to pay for what you just did.” zayne tells you with a pant, now keeping your head steady as he thrusts his cock in and out of your hot mouth at a rapid pace. you simply moaned in response to his words, basking in his masculine taste as you willingly stroked his cock with your tongue-

practically worshipping it each time you traced at the pulsating veins that surrounded the shaft of zayne’s cock. unable to hold back much longer, zayne thrusts into one last time, spilling his seed within your awaiting mouth as you swallowed everything that he had to offer.

had anyone in the unicorns faction been paying attention to the back row, they would have seen you and xavier being caught in a rather compromising position.

you were just teasing your beloved boyfriend, being affectionate with him as the meeting went on about the new wanderer types and strategies to take them down. unable to hold himself back, xavier pulls you closer to him, pressing your back against his broad chest as he manages to slide down your pants in one, swift motion.

he presses soft kisses against your temple, “sssh, be very quiet…” your breathing hitches, hearing the shifting of fabric coming from behind you before the familiar sensation of his cock sliding against the underside of your pussy lips makes you nearly fall over in response.

keeping one arm wrapped around your waist, xavier continues to slide his cock against you, the tip of it purposely catching onto your swollen clit as it gave you the maddening friction you craved. as the presentation went on, everyone was completely unaware of yours and xavier’s depraved actions while hidden within the shadows.

he clings to you, stroking himself even faster against you while you felt the familiar twitching of his cock. before you could even make a single sound, xavier presses the palm of his hand against your lips, effectively muffling you before climaxing.

spurts of his seed were felt staining at the front of your panties, effectively ruining it while xavier let out a grunt of satisfaction. pressing one last kiss against your cheek, your lover removes his flaccid cock from your panties, pulling them up along with your pants while continuing to hold you up with an arm wrapped around your abdomen.

you were shivering now, unable to fully respond when he hotly whispers into your ear, “this was just the start. when we get home, that’s when our real fun will begin.”

thomas was already at the gallery, being surrounded by journalists who wanted an exclusive interview with the prodigal lemurian artist. as the agent struggled to keep everyone’s excitement at bay, he continues to call rafayel’s phone.

“he’s five minutes late.” thomas hangs up his phone while running a hand across his hair. “this is unlike him. just where on earth is he?”

knowing how flaky rafayel can be, thomas decides to try calling him again, already prepared to make a statement on the lemurian’s behalf if he ended up being a no-show.

however, had thomas checked the men’s bathroom, it would have been a completely different story.

rafayel had you seated and spread out for him on one of the porcelain toilets, ramming his cock into you to help with decreasing his stress. beads of sweat ran down his brow, yet his eyes (darkened with lust) was completely focused on you.

“ngh… rafe… we’ve already went… two rounds… hah! don’t you think…. y-you should meet thomas already?”

you manage to tell your beloved in between moans and gasps of his name, earning a playful smirk from him. “oh, but i think you’ve forgotten about how much i crave you during times like these.”

as if proving a point, rafayel spreads your legs wider for him, pushing his cock into you a few more times before tossing them both over his shoulder. he holds up your body, further surprising you with his strength as he continues to bounce your body up and down his cock.

“i don’t care about the event, thomas can handle it. those journalists can wait until i’m satisfied and satiated by you.”

based on his foul mood alone, it was clear that caleb didn’t have the best day at work. as the farspace colonel, a lot of responsibility was put on his shoulders-

and you simply offered to relieve him of any stress that he had.

but what you weren’t expecting was for caleb to take off your shirt and bra, leaving your upper body bare for him as he takes off his own uniform. he settles you back in bed, leaving you drooling at his godly body littered in scars.

suddenly, his cock was settled between your breasts, making the heat rush to your face as you were left gaping at him. “caleb-“

“push your tits together for me…” caleb commands you in a deep, guttural tone. “my cock needs something soft and smooth surrounding it.”

feeling the moisture flood between your legs, you nod, pushing up your breasts as caleb strokes his cock between them. his groans echo throughout your shared room, making you clench your thighs together in response as he continues to get off on your breasts.

as his strokes grow faster (becoming sloppier) you felt a sudden compulsion to taste him-

to bring the entirety of his manhood down your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

releasing his cock from in between your chest, you were dimly aware of his low growl, yet it was quickly cut off when you manage to wrap your lips around his cock-

your tongue already tracing at the veins that surrounded his shaft as you bobbed your head back and forth. his growls immediately morph into desperate and needy moans of your name, with you relishing in the way he places his large hands above your head while pounding himself into your hot mouth.

and with just a few more sucks on your end, you knew caleb was a goner the moment you felt his cock twitching violently within you, feeling his balls tighten before releasing his hot seed down your throat.

bracing himself on the headboard, he removes his softening cock from your lips, with you smiling sweetly at him as you kissed it. you watch as his eyes darken at the sight of his cum running down your lips, feeling his calloused thumb gently wipe it away from your lips before pressing it harshly against your mouth.

“lick it clean.” his voice takes on a deeper tone, and you follow his command, wrapping your tongue around his thumb while looking up at him through your lashes. this earns a dark chuckle from him, with his erection returning just mere seconds later as the tip of it poked against your lips.

“don’t think i’m anywhere close to being done with you. you were the one who willingly offered yourself to me, and you know damn well i’ll be taking full advantage of that.”

end notes: if you’ve seen these banners before in a past story- no, you haven’t 😭 i can’t login to lads to make new banners bc my phone won’t update it so pls just bear with me!!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[huntersmoon1]

"Dr. STONE: Science Future" TV Anime Season 4 Episode 18 (Cour 2 Episode 6) preview

[huntersmoon1]

Nobuo Yamada (NoB) has sadly passed away on August 9 due to kidney cancer. He was 61 years old.

The artist was famous for the first "Saint Seiya" opening song "Pegasus Fantasy as lead singer for the band 'Make-up' among other songs.

[huntersmoon1]

ᡣ𐭩 sylus | kisses ᡣ𐭩

cw: husband!sylus, whole lotta kissing, p in v

sylus loves to kiss you. 

so much so that it’s become second nature now. you can’t go anywhere, not without him pressing a heated kiss against your lips, stealing every bit of your breath until you pull away dazed and unsteady.

sylus enjoys it, obviously. 

he likes seeing the way your eyes unfocus, as though a spell has been cast upon you, his affection misted thoroughly over your unsuspecting form. the kisses do what they need to – enrapture you wholly – and sylus knows they’ve worked when he gazes upon the flush that settles in your cheeks, and the uneven rise and fall of your chest.

it’s all the better when you don’t leave. he doesn’t understand why you want to, doesn’t understand the need to put your life at risk when he can provide everything you could possibly want from his sprawling empire in the n109 zone. you belong at his side. 

it’s why sylus put that pretty ring on your finger in the first place. well that, and the fact that he’s maddeningly in love with you. 

but marriage doesn’t seem to deter you, and he can’t seem to blame you. watching his sweet, little wife climb the ranks of the hunter’s association was something that he was proud of, even if it did make him fret with worry every time you disappeared off on some audacious mission to retrieve a protocore. 

in the end, sylus decides to turn to something a little more… simple. it starts off innocent enough, a soft kiss to the cheek, a fleeting brush of his lips against your forehead before you leave. 

a few weeks of experimentation later, and he finds that one wilful kiss does the trick - tender enough to convey his adoration, but heated enough to leave you wanting more. 

later, sylus finds that it works a little too well.

he’s huffing out a laugh against your lips, hands squeezing at your waist and hips whilst you paw at his chest like an unruly kitten, hissing and spitting until he gives you what you want. panties pulled to the side, his cock stuffed deep inside of you, fingers laced together so tightly that the bands of your wedding rings slip against each other, digging into your skin.

but in the end, you still leave. skirt pulled down, a fresh pair of panties pulled on and you’re breezing out the door like you didn’t just milk his cock dry. 

so sylus doubles his efforts. he kisses you when you aren’t expecting it, lithe fingers splaying over your cheek and jaw, caressing and stroking, tilting your head until his lips are slotting over yours.

it doesn’t matter what time it is, where you are, whether anyone’s watching – sylus is kissing you. he muffles your shy protests, cradling the back of your head until you melt against him, going lax in his arms.

despite it all, he likes the privacy of kissing you at home. you’re brattier this way, mouthing off to him when no one’s watching and it makes him so painfully hard, a feral smile spreading across his lips until he shuts your bold taunts up with his mouth. you end up in his lap more often than not, sylus’ breathy whispers coaxing you to unwind.

“is this how you wanted me to shut you up, hm?... such a bratty baby… my sweet, eager wife… my good girl… stay with me, sweetness… that’s it, kiss me, my love…”

time passes easily like this, you on his lap, squirming and panting into his mouth while you share languid kisses, tongues tangling and lips working against each other. and then there’s spit dripping from the corners of your mouths and he’s catching it, feeding it to you with his thumb, eyes fluttering shut when you suck on his thumb obediently.

sylus could spend hours, even days having you like this.

better than sex, sylus thinks belatedly, feeling your teeth scrape against his lips, your fingers tugging at his snowy hair. there’s an intense intimacy to it all, one that threatens to consume you both; greedy, desperate touches flitting across one another’s body. 

he cums untouched when you suck on his tongue with an incomparable sensualness, his low groan swallowed up by your eager mouth, cock throbbing in his boxers, thick cum staining the fabric. sylus is at your mercy when it catches your attention, hissing when you ghost your fingers over the sensitive head of his cock. 

it slips into both of your daily routines easily. 

timed carved out to kiss your husband, to have his hands all over you. sylus can’t say he minds – he’s giddy, in fact. how could he be anything but? 

he knows all your little tricks now, the way you worm your way into his lap under the pretense of wanting to be close while he works, only to distract him with fleeting kisses to his cheek until he caves and grips your chin, returning your neediness with sloppy kisses of his own. 

and sylus is no better, taking quiet steps towards you while you cook, pressing up against you from behind, his hand sliding up the length of your neck, tipping your head back to kiss you messily, whatever was simmering on the stove forgotten. 

then it bleeds into combat. adrenaline pumping in your veins after clearing a group of wanderers, sylus’ evol swirling around you, pinning you against the nearest surface before he stalks towards you, devouring your mouth like a man-starved. 

nothing makes him harder than seeing his pretty wife handle a gun. 

you find yourself in his bed soon after, silk sheets slipping across your body, energy thrumming through every part of you as his evol resonates with yours, cock buried deep inside of you. 

“you did well today,” he breathes out, groaning when he feels you clench around him, drawing his hips back and thrusting them back in to draw a squeal out of you. “so, so well, sweetness.”

you crumble under the praise, legs wrapping around his waist tightly, unwilling to let him go.

“i– i always do well,” you manage out, snark coloring your tone.

sylus grins against your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin in warning. “i thought you were happy i was there… helping you.”

a whine escapes you. the slam of his hips isn’t hard enough, and there’s only one way to get what you want.

“i didn’t need your help, sylus.”

sylus pauses, drawing back and you groan at the loss of his cock, cheek squishing into the pillows until his hand is shooting out, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“is that so, my love?” his voice is soft, dangerous.

you steel yourself, pouting a little. “yes.”

and sylus gives you everything.

his cock is sinking into you, pounding into you viciously until you’re crying out and screaming his name, nails clawing down in his back in the way he likes, marking him as yours.

“my stubborn, darling wife,” he snarls into your ear, voice rough with annoyance and lingering affection, his hands squeezing at your hips, before curling around your thighs, hiking them up higher. “i didn’t realize i was so… unwanted.”

you babble out an incoherent noise, writhing under him as sylus gives you exactly what you need, what you’ve both been craving and it feels so good. his fingers join the fray, rubbing at your swollen clit feverishly until you’re trying to yank him down, mumbling unintelligibly.

“what was that?” he muses against your lips, head dipping down just enough for you to crane your neck to kiss him, lips meeting briefly before he pulls away, grinning. “after such harsh words, you’ll have to beg, sweetness.”

“kiss,” you manage out, voice hoarse, whimpering when his teeth scrape against your breast as it moves at the force of his thrusts. “kiss me, sylus! ah– please?”

and sylus can’t find it in himself to deny you, not when he’s the one that’s done this to you, lips capturing yours, grinding his cock into you, inch after inch. it’s terribly messy, spit and tears and cum as he kisses you, a hand slipping under your head to tilt your head closer.

you mewl against his lips, arms wrapping around his neck, back arching as his cock drives into you one last time before you cum, shuddering and shaking while he shushes your cries, kisses softening, his nose nudging against yours gently. there’s cum spilling into you, hot and thick, sylus’ body slumping over yours, his hard planes of muscle enough to make you feel hot all over again.

a hazy smile settles on your face when he strokes your hair, melting under his touch as you curl into him when he rolls off of you, tugging you into his chest.

when you yawn contentedly, sylus brushes a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tapping against your chin to draw you out of your hiding place, his lips meeting yours in a slow, tender kiss.

“mmm,” you hum against his lips, arms wrapping around his neck lazily. “you’re so good to me, sylus.” you lean closer, voice dipping into a soft tease. “i love my husband.”

sylus kisses you again, his fingers tangled in your hair. “and i love my wife,” he muses, nosing into your cheek, “even if she says she doesn’t need my help.”

“you know why i said that,” you shoot back, finger dragging down his chest. “makes you all frazzled.”

“brat,” sylus clicks his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily when your nails scratch across his lower abdomen. “insatiable,” he breathes out, feeling your hand drift even lower, “you are insatiable, sweetie.”

“and whose fault is that?” you whisper, teeth catching his lower lip, tugging it playfully.

his cock is hardening again in your hand.

“you’re right,” he murmurs, his hand curling over yours, guiding your pace, “i encourage you too much.”

you smile, lips drifting to kiss his pec. his thumb presses into your mouth, and your lips part when his thumb hooks over your teeth, prying your mouth open before his lips are slotting over yours.

he’s grasping your thigh, guiding it over his hip whilst you stroke his cock before letting it sink back inside your pussy once more with a ragged gasp.

sylus watches you with half-lidded eyes as his hips roll into you lazily, fucking you slow and deep, working every inch of his cock into you. you look beautiful like this, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, wrapped up in his arms in the warm lighting of your shared bedroom.

he can feel the cool band of your wedding ring against his chest, right above where his heart beats erratically.

kissing you might be second-nature, but loving you?

loving you is written in his soul.

[huntersmoon1]

Do you think Sylus would let Reader adopt the stray cats in "At Your Service?"

I can just imagine the silent war he has with them to get Reader's attention!

Of course, they’re something she cares immensely about!! He’d probably rationalize it as she’s a kitten herself, it’s only natural that she wants to be around other cats 🙂‍↕️😙

[huntersmoon1]

"Dr. Stone" manga series by Inagaki Riichiro & Boichi has 19 million copies in circulation for the whole series (27 vols) including digital!

TV nime Season 4 (Finale) Cour 2 Is Ongoing

Final Season Will Be 3 Split Cour.

[huntersmoon1]

"Dr. STONE: Science Future" TV Anime Season 4 Episode 18 (Cour 2 Episode 6) stills

[huntersmoon1]

[huntersmoon1]

Red alert!

-Guys the government is trying to censor the internet again!

It won't stop at porn site and video games! Soon your favorite book, tv shows, and movies will be banned and you'll need your id to access anything on the internet!

This isn't about the safety of kids it's about control and making the internet a white squeaky clean place where no one can have an opinion or watch or read what they want! It'll become what Britain already is!

Where you'll get arrested for saying a joke or your opinion about anything!

We will no longer be the home of the brave and the land of the free! We'll be the home of the gagged, helpless,weaklings and the land of the repressed!

Here's a link to info on the child online safety act!

-Also payment processors have bowed down to a group called Collective Shout and are now threatening to remove themselves from sites like steam if they don't remove what they deem to be not nsfw claiming they aren't child friendly! I admit most of them aren't but a lot of them are fine!

Unless the games are illegal they should have no power over what people buy and sell!

Contact your payment processors like Visa and Mastercard and complain, tell them this isn't ok cuz they won't stop at nsfw or just games but books and tv shows and movies!

Next it'll be god knows what and it'll probably be a harmless anime or manga! Don't let them bend the knee to these groups!

Yes they have hotlines. I found a post about it.

Also if your wondering why I changed my profile pic to a Clippy this is why. A slightly different reason than the other privacy problems like YouTube. The Peaceful privacy clippy movment. This guys a genius.

[huntersmoon1]

"Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi" TV Anime Season 2 new visual & PV revealed

Air Date: October 2025

OP theme song by Nao Touyama "jacket illustration"

[huntersmoon1]

how do you think the lads boys would react if mc asked them to "just use the tip"?

Warnings: MDNI, sex, grinding, humping, explicit genitalia descriptions, PIV, teasing, penetration, slight somno, some rough sex, creampie, virginity loss panty sniffing, slight pseudo cest with Caleb, Caleb is called gege, non MC reader A/n: Not proofread.

.ೃ࿔*:･LaDS men reacting to you saying 'just the tip'...

.ೃ࿔*:･Zayne:

You're a pathetic, drooling mess down there as Zayne blankets your body, his warm skin pressed against yours. His mouth possesses yours demandingly, his tongue dancing with yours until he's all you crave and taste. His cock, hard and heavy, was nestled between your slick folds as both of you rocked erotically against each other, your breath coming out in broken gasps each time his rounded head caught against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your system. When he drags his soaked length lower, grazing your sopping entrance, you whine loudly, feeling the impatient flutter of your empty sex as he teases you into a hot mess.

"Zayne..." you whimper his name. You felt wet enough, but accommodating him was a feat each time. "Just the tip, please...Don't wanna...be stretched hard..."

His patience was close to snapping, but Zayne groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck, sweat beading his forehead. "You're killing me, darling," he growls, but he's loath to bully himself into you, so he obliges, gasping as he feels your body part around him, welcoming his weeping tip into your warmth. He stills, eyes squeezing shut to keep his sanity as your sex clenches around what little it had.

Inch by patient inch, Zayne sinks into you, his breath becoming ragged as you cling to him, until he's fully sheathed. You're full, completely owned by him, your cunt sucking him in as it adjusts, and with a deep growl, Zayne starts to thrust.

"You don't have to tell me," he mutters into your ear as he moves. "I always check, darling."

.ೃ࿔*:･Sylus:

The base is quiet as Sylus slips into bed next to you. You barely stir but are keenly aware at his presence, your sleepy body reacting to him even as you tread the fine line between wakefullness and dreaming. You'd been too lazy to hunt down pajama bottoms, so Sylus has the surprise of feeling your bare thighs against his as he snuggles under the blankets. His cock hardens instantly at the feeling, and he grits his teeth, wondering how far he could do.

"Kitten," he says in a low purr. "How do you expect me to control myself when you're sleeping like this? All sexy and practically naked?"

His hands begin to wander, slowly tracing your shoulders, the curve of your waist, cupping your breasts and teasing your pebbled nipples through the thin fabric of your T-shirt as he carefully grinds himself against the soft roundness of your ass. You whimper sleepily, emboldening him, and his finger dips between your legs to pull aside your panties, sandwiching his veiny cock between your slick folds. He groans lowly at the sweet, liquidy glide of your labia on his cock, rocking his hips to lie flush against your ass until he feels you start to arch back into him. Desire floods his veins as he whispers.

"Kitten...please..."

"Just...mhm...the tip...Sylus..." You mumble back breathily and for him its enough. Heart hammering, Sylus carefully feels for your hole with his sensitive tip, which is slick with precum, hissing as he enters your moist channel, the tightness almost crushing his restraint. He thrusts mindfully, not daring to violate your wishes , only allowing his head to piston in and out until he finally finishes, holding back a moan as he spills his sticky release into you.

.ೃ࿔*:･Caleb:

He's dying, but if this how he was meant to go, then he'll go happily. You looked so cute lying on your stomach on the bed reading your book, wearing nothing but those cute little apple panties and his college hoodie. How was he supposed to resist?

You'd giggled mischievously as he'd locked the door and crawled over you, kissing the nape of your neck, your ears, sending delicious tingles running through your body. You don't object when he drags your panties down your legs, mouth watering at the sight of the little patch of moisture that stains it as he brings it to his nose and sniffs, the tangy musk of your pussy sending him on a dizzying spiral.

"Tempting me huh pipsqueak? Showing off your little cunt like this? Were you missing gege's attention?"

You wiggle your ass naughtily, giggling as he gives you light smack and spreads your legs apart. Your labia are swollen and slick with moisture as Caleb grabs one of your cheeks and spreads you apart for a better look.

"Fuck pip. Look at how wet you are. Gonna fit real easy here." He undoes the drawstring on his sweats, palming himself eagerly, before you say the words that nearly stop his heart.

"Just the tip gege." You pout as you look over your shoulder, enjoying the disappointment and puppy eyes that form over his face.

"You're kidding me. Cmon pip please." He tries to tempt you by guiding his cock towards your entrance, circling teasingly but you move yourself away.

"Tip or nothing." You repeat, enjoying how he begs.

With a groan of defeat, Caleb aligns himself with your entrance, cursing silently as he only allows his tip to breach, thrusting shallowly as he whines. You try to hold on, but he's so pathetic and hard that you can't handle it anymore. Relenting, you push back against him, letting him push deeper and deeper inside until he's at the hilt.

"That's gege's good girl. Yeah. Back that pussy onto me."

.ೃ࿔*:･Xavier:

"Did you really think you'd get away with this?"

Your brain can't think of a response to Xavier's question as he pounds into you, his hips pushing against your ass with each thrust, bottoming out every time. A broken moan escapes your lips as his cock stretches you to capacity, kissing your cervix each time. Your juices are sliding down his length, glistening on the smooth column as the slapping noises of skin on skin fill the room.

"Just the tip...tch. You really thought I was going to be satisfied with that princess?"

He tugs on your hair and you gasp at the tingle of pain as he pistons into you brutally. "This pussy is mine. Mine to fuck and fill until the only name you remember is mine."

He suddenly withdraws and your cunt clenches around nothing, leaving you bereft. You whine in frustration and Xavier chuckles darkly.

"What's that? Is this the same cunt that only wanted the tip? Look at how greedy it is now, drooling and begging for more. Filthy girl. Lying about how much you can take."

He slips back in with a smooth, single push and you grip the bedsheets, moaning his name as you lose all other thought.

"That's it. The perfect cocksleeve. Don't ever think you'll get less than the whole thing."

.ೃ࿔*:･Rafayel:

"Raf please...only the tip..."

Your soft pleas are met with kisses and gentle circles on your clit as Rafayel preps you to receive him. A shudder passes through your body as he inserts two of his long, slim fingers into you, scissoring into your wetness to stretch you out for his cock.

"Ssh...don't fret my beautiful bride. You're made to fit me."

You try to protest, squirming as pleasure builds up deep inside your cunt, nervous at the prospect of taking him. You'd tried to before, but you just couldn't make it fit. You'd struggled, then felt guilty as Rafayel coaxed you off him, murmuring you could try again later.

His fingers start to stroke that sensitive patch of nerves inside your channel, timing it to the circles on your clit and you moan helplessly, falling apart like shattering glass to his ministrations. Rafayel praises you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, then withdraws his fingers, and you feel the loss keenly. Blushing as you watch him lick his fingers dry, he beckons you to straddle his lap .

"At your own pace cutie. I promise we fit." He cups your face between his hands and rests his forehead against yours, a tender gesture that calms you. Following his suggestion, you test the waters, finding his tip with your sex, and carefully pushing down on him, feeling the difference between this time and the last. Your walls flutter eagerly, sucking him in deeper, and though you gasp at the unfamiliar stretch, it's not the pain you thought it would be.

Rafayel's grip tightens around your waist as he embraces you, helping you sink down until he's fully sheathed. He sighs, his breath tickling your ear.

"See? I told you. A perfect fit. Now ride me to your heart's content."

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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