scyllayoucunt

[scyllayoucunt]

sliiiiiiding back in with some Styx shenanigans before 7.5 ruins all my headcanon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

(sorry for both Extreme Verticalness and Extreme Stupidness, these should really just be expected at this point honestly)

[scyllayoucunt]

Fuuuuuuuuck gentle dub-con with trey...

Cw for dub con

Cw for cringe smut writing >~< just kinda word vomited I'm still not used to writing it yet

18+ content below

I think it's gn????? But it's prob very afab leaning I'm sorry

In the kitchen with Trey. So homey, so domestic. Wholesome baking hours fr fr.

He made a special treat, just for you.

You didn't even notice he was working on the side project. So of course you also wouldn't know what extra ingredients he added.

Suddenly feeling warm all over. Flushed. Holding onto Trey like he's a lifeline. He's smiling so sweetly, chuckling as he helps guide you back to Ramshackle

Only, you don't make it that far from the kitchen before you're gripping Trey and desperately begging him for... for... for him. You need him.

You drag him or he drags you or someone drags someone into his room, you're lying on his bed, fuck, it's like you can't get your clothes off quick enough. He continues to chuckle, the very picture of control.

Once hes undressed as well he moves over you, and you grab him by the neck and pull him towards you, needing flesh on flesh. He kisses your neck. You whimper against him.

"I know, I know..." He whispers into your ear. "But let me enjoy this, first, okay?"

Large hands feeling you up and down.

You don't know how long he's been thinking of this.

And even though he can tell how desperate you are–even though he knows how desperate the aphrodisiac he gave you is making you–he takes things slow.

A hand on your breast, the other on your thigh, mouthing at your throat while what you need rubs against you but not in the way you need.

Whining and begging and rubbing up against him. Every gasp or stillness of breath from him is a small victory.

You're dripping as you rub up against him. Trying your best to angle your hips, but you can't get him in, so you continue to rub on. Even without entering you, he's already coated with you. You use what you can get for any stimulation, rubbing yourself on his member for any sort of friction.

His hands go from exploring to holding you down.

He brushes his nose against yours, stating into your dazed eyes with his focused ones.

He grinds up against you once, then pulls away.

"Tell me what you want," he stares right at you as he says it.

"I want you, Trey." You respond.

"And what do you want from me?" He presses up against you once more, still not giving you want you need.

"Please, Trey, I need–I need you inside me, please I-I need you... need you..."

"Yes?"

"Fuck, I need you to fuck me, Trey, please."

And then he finally, finally, fuckin enters you.

There's that second he takes to just enjoy it, enjoy being inside you for the first time. He almost seems like he won't move at all. You thrust up, causing him to chuckle once more, and he pulls back.

He sets a slow pace at first, enjoying himself, enjoying you. Buy it's not enough for you, and so you continue to buck your hips, but then he's pressing in fully and holding your hips to the bed.

"Patience is a virtue." He teases. You whine.

He keeps you pinned to the bed, continues slowly dragging himself to the tip then slowly pushing himself back to the base.

His mouth is at your ear, you can hear his breath, feel it come out in short bursts.

It feels like torture.

You need more, so much more. You wrap your arms around him, then your legs. You buck into him again. You grip onto him with everything you have. Tighter. He can feel it. With his mouth at your ear, you notice how his breath catches in response.

"Trey, please, I need you to fuck me."

He smirks.

"As you wish."

Slow thrusts become more forceful. He holds you closer to him, pushing in as far and deep as he can go. He pocks up the pace, soon panting into your ear.

"Fuck..." you gasp, "Yes... Trey..."

Each little exclamation makes him go a little faster, a little harder, encouraging you to let out every little word until words are too much work and you let out every sharp gasp and moan instead.

Trey holds you as close as he can, rutting into you with all the pent up fury of a man who had been waiting for this for God knows how long.

"Fuckin finally..." You hear him pant. "Mine... all mine."

You moan in reply.

It doesn't take long now for everything that's been building up since your treat to come undone. You gasp and pant around him. Your heart's pounding in your chest, your head rings, you're not quite sure where you are.

His grip on you tightens, his thrusts grow frenzied, then he's gripping you like he wants to mold your body into his as he empties himself inside you. He stills, keeping you held close to him.

"Mine."

[scyllayoucunt]

HE'S PART OF THE NEWLY AWAKENED BATCH OF HEATSLABYUL‼️‼️🦅🦅💥💥 WE LOVE SEEING THE REAL STRUGGLES OF BEING A PERFECT STUDENT/SON 🥹🥹🥹🥹 THE AUTHENTICITY IN THIS IS SO SWEET WE SEE ANOTHER SIDE OF RIDDLE

[scyllayoucunt]

BOOK 7.5 ISNT VOICED NOOOOOOOO

time for my favorite game: is it Production Delays™ or Ominous Foreshadowing™, you decide!

(it's probably production delays) (99.99% of the time it's production delays) (but...what if)

[scyllayoucunt]

Memories

[scyllayoucunt]

[scyllayoucunt]

UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭UUUUE😭🥺💧🥺😭 ue 💧ee😭🥺💧ue 🥺e e e😭 💧🥺😭Uueuuue.💧ue 😭🥺ee e🥺🥺😭eUEE 💧🥺💧EEE 💧💧😭–😭EE H💧🥺😭E EUU💧🥺😭UUEHH🥺😭EUEH🥺 😭💧💧ue e😭😭eeeeee💧💧💧uu🥺😭 hh 😭🥺uUEEE🥺😭😭 UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭 UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭UUUUE😭🥺💧🥺😭 ue 💧ee😭🥺💧ue 🥺e e e😭 💧🥺😭Uueuuue.💧ue 😭🥺ee e🥺🥺😭eUEE 💧🥺💧EEE 💧💧😭–😭EE H💧🥺😭E EUU💧🥺😭UUEHH🥺😭EUEH🥺 😭💧💧ue e😭😭eeeeee💧💧💧uu🥺😭 hh 😭🥺uUEEE🥺😭😭 UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭 UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭UUUUE😭🥺💧🥺😭 ue 💧ee😭🥺💧ue 🥺e e e😭 💧🥺😭Uueuuue.💧ue 😭🥺ee e🥺🥺😭eUEE 💧🥺💧EEE 💧💧😭–😭EE H💧🥺😭E EUU💧🥺😭UUEHH🥺😭EUEH🥺 😭💧💧ue e😭😭eeeeee💧💧💧uu🥺😭 hh 😭🥺uUEEE🥺😭😭 UEE😭🥺💧Eu💧💧E E😭😭 E EUE🥺🥺😭

[scyllayoucunt]

It's Getting Hot in Here

In which Fem! AFAB! Cat Beastwoman! Reader is in heat, and her husband, the Overblot Boys, are more than willing to help her. Requested by Anon.

Warnings:18+, Fem! AFAB! Reader, breeding, sex with the intention of getting pregnant, sexting, dirty talk, sending of explicit photos/videos, masturbation

Riddle Rosehearts

Leona Kingscholar

Azul Ashengrotto

Jamil Viper

Vil Schoenheit

Idia Shroud

Malleus Draconia

[scyllayoucunt]

xiaprint presents…

… kinktober 2k25!

consider this my thank you for 1k! let’s get slutty!

roleplay [10/01 - 10/05]

01 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pizza boy!

02 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ stripper!

03 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ secretary!

04 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ babysitter!

05 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pool boy!

positions [10/06 - 10/10]

06 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cowgirl!

07 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sixty-nine!

08 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pronebone!

09 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ backshots!

10 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ full nelson!

discipline [10/11 - 10/15]

11 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ spitting!

12 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ edging!

13 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ overstimulation!

14 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ choking!

15 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ spanking!

wildcard [10/16 - 10/20]

16 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ somnophilia!

17 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ bondage!

18 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ daddy!

19 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ anal!

20 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ footjob!

trick? [10/21 - 10/25]

21 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ phone sex!

22 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ dacryphilia!

23 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ mutual masturbation!

24 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ aphrodisiac!

25 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sex tape!

treat! [10/26 - 10/30]

26 - xavier ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cum eating!

27 - rafayel ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ creampie!

28 - zayne ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ breeding!

29 - sylus ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ facial!

30 - caleb ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ dry humping!

[scyllayoucunt]

hey, I have a request where reader calls lads boys their husband to their friends, and they hear! I actually don't know if you take requests at the moment..if not pls ignore me

Hey Hubby: When you call them ‘Husband’

Synopsis: How the LADS LI’s react to calling them ‘husband’ to others when you aren’t married yet.

Warnings: Not much, just some pervy jokes!

𐙚 Xavier

It was just supposed to be a normal health insurance meeting for The Unicorn Operatives. Xavier absentmindedly was cleaning his sword, his eyes flicking up between you and the lady dealing with your paperwork.

“Who would you like to put down as your emergency contact? This individual would also be your beneficiary o the kind older woman smiled at you.

Without skipping a single beat, you smiled. “My husband, of course.” You gestured over your shoulder to Xavier who blinked owlishly at you.

The woman made a pleased sound and clicked across her keyboard to input the info. You smiled and shrugged your shoulders at your boyfriend, not (yet) husband.

When it was Xavier’s turn to do his own life insurance policy, he always had to outdo you.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, strong wife. Of course.”

𐙚 Rafayel

Perusing Rafayel’s art gallery works became second nature. You often swung by during your lunch break to eat your sandwich on one of the benches before one of your favorite paintings.

It was of you, of course. Titled ‘beloved bride’.

A little girl with a mouthful of lollipop stumbled through the art gallery. She stared wide eyed up at the painting. Her little brain made the connection between the painting and the woman in real life before her.

“Wow! D’ya know who made dis?” Her muffled amazement made you laugh between a bite of sandwich.

“My…husband. Isn’t he a great artist. This one is my favorite. This color…”

Rafayel, who had fetched your favorite soda, listened to every word. His heart thrummed against his ribcage.

He couldn’t wait to make you his wife all over again. In every lifetime.

𐙚 Zayne

Surgery was always draining. Zayne was nearly completely numb as he slumped in the break room. His mask was pulled down over his chin, he could hear the chatter down the hall but he blocked most of it out.

Until he heard your voice.

He pulled himself from the thin plastic chair. He slugged around the corner, where the mother of a patient was enveloping you in a hug.

His bagged lunch, with his name on it dangled from your fingers. The mother was so grateful for Zayne, that the surgeon had saved her son’s life.

“You know Dr. Zayne? He saved William’s life and I-oh what is your relation to him? You are so lucky to have him.” She sniffled out.

You looked over her shoulder briefly. “My husband. He’s truly an Angel.”

He showed you just how much of an Angel he was, after he locked his office door and gave you his ‘blessing’.

𐙚 Caleb

“No-! No let me see him!”

Fuck.

Caleb was getting patched up in the med bay when he heard you arguing with the receptionist. The doctor gave the next stitch and Caleb winced.

He wanted to comfort you, to hold you and tell you he was alright.

“Ma’m please. Only immediate family-“

“He’s my husband!”

Caleb felt his heart lurch again. The doctor chuckled and pushed up his glasses. “I didn’t know you were married.”

Caleb gave a sheepish smile. “Neither did I.”

The pistons of the door hissed and it opened to see you panting, the receptionist trying to coax you back to the waiting room.

Caleb held up a hand as the woman tried to grab you. “No need, Mrs. Xia has every right to be here.”

A blush broke out across your face.

Got ya.

𐙚 Sylus

Being away from you was miserable. So when Sylus returned, he always took you on much needed lavish dates. You were dressed in a floor length crimson gown Sylus had bought for you.

You hung on to his arm as you walked through the restaurant. All eyes were on you, the jaw-dropping couple. “Kitten, grab us some drinks from the bar. You know what bourbon I like.”

When he returned from the restroom, he saw a blubbering, slick-backed hair man flirting with you. You on the other hand were like a spider with a fly in its web.

You ignored whatever floating the man was trying to do.

“Ah, speaking of business, perhaps my Husband could help you. He always gives me the best ���tips’.” You gestured to Sylus, who easily towered over the man.

“Oh-uh. My bad, man.” He slinks away into the dark, leaving a smirking Sylus.

“I only give you one tip, right against that pretty cervix.” He whispers into your ear.

[scyllayoucunt]

Plague be upon thee with the rats return. Lol

My eczema is kicking my butt, so I'd like to request a yuu with eczema. They don't have access or funds to get the skin care they need, so their hands and joints are covered in rough, red, patchy, rashes. Maybe the Pomefiore crew find out and help. Idk. Just do what seems best. Okay luv you, byee

-🐁 anon

(Here are some articles on eczema incase you wanna research :)

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/9998-eczema

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/atopic-dermatitis-eczema/symptoms-causes/syc-20353273

Pomefiore Finds Out Yuu Has Eczema

Yuu had gotten used to hiding their hands. Long sleeves, fidgeting, always tucking them into pockets or folding them against their chest. The skin was rough, red, raw around the joints. Some days the rashes burned like fire, other days they itched so badly Yuu nearly scratched themselves bloody. And without proper creams, ointments, or even simple gloves, all they could do was endure it quietly.

At first, no one noticed. But in Pomefiore, where every flicker of appearance is scrutinized, nothing stays hidden forever.

Vil

Vil was the first to catch it. He saw the way Yuu hesitated to shake hands, how their movements in class looked restrained, how they curled their fingers inward like they were ashamed of being seen. One afternoon, he demanded Yuu hand him a potion vial, and when their sleeve slipped back, the truth revealed itself.

“Stop,” he said, voice clipped. Yuu froze, terrified, as Vil gently—surprisingly gently—took their wrist and turned their hand to the light. The redness, the cracks, the raw patches all over their knuckles and joints were exposed.

“…You’ve been suffering like this?” His tone was sharp, but not at Yuu—at the world for letting it get this bad.

When Yuu admitted they had no funds for proper care, Vil’s face softened into something rare: pity. Not the condescending kind, but the kind laced with fury that someone he cared for had been left in pain.

From that day on, he set aside creams, ointments, and even dietary suggestions tailored for Yuu. “Hydration. Moisture. Protection,” he recited like commandments, ensuring Yuu had gloves for harsh weather, salves for flare-ups, and gentle reminders not to scratch even when it felt unbearable.

“You deserve better than to suffer in silence. If you won’t care for yourself properly, then allow me to do it for you.”

Rook

Rook, of course, already knew. He noticed every wince, every discreet scratch. He had merely been waiting for Yuu to trust him—or for Vil to step in first.

When the secret came out, he only smiled knowingly. “Ah, trickster, you wear your pain like invisible armor… but even armor cracks.”

He became the most comforting presence, in his own eccentric way. If Yuu scratched at their skin during a stressful moment, he would distract them with conversation, tug them toward a sunny patch of garden, or hand them a stress toy he claimed was “a hunter’s talisman” (it was just a soft charm shaped like a rabbit).

“You needn’t hide from us, mon cher. Every blemish, every imperfection—it makes you real. And real beauty lies in honesty.”

Epel

Epel was furious when he found out. Not at Yuu, but at the unfairness of it. “That ain’t right,” he muttered, glaring at their cracked hands. “Ya shoulda said somethin’ sooner. Don’t matter if ya can’t afford it—ya shouldn’t hafta deal with this alone.”

Though he wasn’t as refined as Vil or as poetic as Rook, Epel showed his care in practical ways. He scoured the farms and gardens near NRC for soothing herbs. He convinced his grandmother to send homemade salves from Harveston—simple, rustic remedies that worked just as well as expensive ones.

If he caught Yuu scratching until they bled, he’d scold them: “Stop that! Yer only makin’ it worse.” But he’d hand them a cold cloth right after, helping them press it to the angry skin with a gentleness that contrasted his sharp tone.

[scyllayoucunt]

THE SECRET LOCKER caleb

𝓢UM : Caleb, your sweet caleb, has had a painfully obvious crush on you for years. But what you don’t know is that while he’s all sunshine and warm in person, he’s also the desperate little perv who steals your panties when he visits and jerks off to them in his dorm every night. His roommate Gideon knows and is sick of his shit.

➢𝓒W : Pre-relationship, college era (DAA Caleb), pre–explosion (before he went CALEBOOM !!!), panty stealing, masturbation, heavy perv behavior, obsession, scent kink, Gideon being done with Caleb’s horny ass, loser boy energy, mutual pining, unresolved sexual tension, mutual virginity lose, oral (f! receiving), fingering, deep emotional confession, protected sex (Caleb has a condom and panicked about it), realistic first time (slight discomfort, giggles, softness), aftercare, crying from emotions (Caleb), praise kink, possessive vibes, happy ending, happy tears. . . MDNI

➢𝓐/N : can you guys tell I lob caleb ? (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠) — anyways, had to invest into this awesome hc whoever came up with LMFAO also I like to imagine they had their first time with eo cuz a man who yearns this hard for his beloved wouldn't lose it to someone else. Caleb’s a man who sees sex as something spiritual and as a demi i heavily fw it.

Caleb had tried.

Tried not to look when you bent over to grab something off your floor. Tried not to stare when you came back from a shower in those little shorts. Tried not to memorize how your laundry smelled.

But Caleb was weak.

And you were soft, curvy, warm—always kind to him, always laughing at his dry jokes like he wasn’t a bundle of nerves every time you got too close. You called him "handsome" once—he nearly fainted in your kitchen. You touched his thigh during a movie and he got hard so fast he thought he blacked out.

It started innocent.

He stayed over one weekend. You tossed him a pair of pajama pants and pointed toward the bathroom. And there—there—hanging beside your towel, were your panties. Pink, lace-trimmed, and god, still damp from your shower. He didn’t mean to do anything. Really. He didn’t. But his hand moved like it belonged to someone else.

He lifted them. Inhaled. Eyes fluttered shut.

And then he took them.

Just once. Just to... remember the smell. And then he came so fast in his dorm he barely made it to the tissue box.

He told himself it was a one-time thing.

It wasn’t.

“Dude, that’s the third pair this week.”

Gideon’s voice was flat, arms crossed, as he watched Caleb slide the newest addition into a ziplock bag. “You’re becoming a fuckin' collector.”

“I’m not—shut up,” Caleb hissed, shoving the bag in the back of his locker, already flushed head to toe. “You don’t get it, she—she wore those yesterday, and—fuck, she left them on the chair! What was I supposed to do?!”

“Not steal them?” Gideon gestured wildly. “Like a normal guy with a crush??”

“I have a plan,” Caleb said weakly.

“You’ve had a crush for years, Caleb.”

Caleb sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. “You don’t get it. She’s—fuck, she’s perfect. I can’t—I can’t just tell her, man, you’ve seen her. She’d never want me.”

Gideon looked at him like he was the dumbest man alive. Which, frankly, he might be. “Caleb. She bought you a ‘world’s best pilot’ mug and kissed your cheek when you passed you graduated. She sends you food when you’re sick. She calls you 'sunshine boy’.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants me,” Caleb muttered.

“It means you’re stupid.”

The locker was getting full.

He hated himself for it. Every time he came, clutching your panties in his fist, moaning your name like a prayer, he’d finish and immediately curl in on himself, guilt tightening his chest.

But then he’d go over to your place again. See you in one of those tank tops, smiling up at him, thighs peeking from your shorts. He’d catch a whiff of your shampoo or your lotion. You’d laugh and toss your arm around his shoulder like it was nothing and suddenly his mouth was dry, cock twitching, heart beating loud enough to give him away.

He was obsessed.

But you were so far out of his league, so unreachable, so warm and sweet and out of bounds that all he could do was imagine.

And steal.

The night it went too far was the night you texted:

"ugh caleb i miss you :( come over this weekend pls I'm craving ur braised chicken 😮‍💨"

Caleb bit his lip so hard he nearly bled. He reread the message seven times. His dick was already hard.

But he did came over that weekend, somehow managing a day off from aerospace academy. You fell asleep first.

It was late. He cooked for you. You watched half a sci-fi movie and passed out on the couch. Caleb covered you with a blanket, heart thumping so hard he could feel it in his throat.

He tried to sleep. He really did. But then he saw your bedroom door cracked open. Your laundry basket in the corner.

A fresh pair of panties folded over the rim.

His hands were shaking as he picked them up. His brain was screaming at him—put them down, put them down, she’ll hate you if she finds out,—but his cock was throbbing in his sweats, and he couldn’t think straight.

The second he was in your bathroom with the door shut, he shoved his hand down his pants, nose buried in the fabric.

“F-fuck—” he gasped, hips jerking forward, “fuckfuckfuck—baby—”

It was shameless. It was wrong. It was also the hardest he’d ever come.

Gideon cornered him the two days later. “You left a fucking ziplock bag in the shared fridge, Caleb.”

“It had a gel ice pack!!”

“It also had lace underwear and a label that said ‘Monday’ on it.”

“I panicked, okay??”

Gideon pointed at him. “You’re sick. I’m gonna call her.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“She needs to know her panties are living a double life—”

“I WILL KILL YOU.”

The day you found out was an accident. You were looking for something in his dorm closet. He was mid-shower. The locker door creaked open, and—

You blinked.

Ziplocks. Pink, lavender, navy blue. Labels.

Your underwear.

You stood in silence. Flushed. Confused. And then very intrigued.

When Caleb came back into the room, towel slung across his shoulders, wearing sweats, rubbing water from his hair, he saw you frozen there, “Hey pipsqueak—” and froze too.

Silence.

“Caleb?” Your voice was soft. Dangerous. “What...is all this?”

His soul left his body. “I—I can explain—!”

“You stole my panties.”

“I SWEAR I’M NOT A PERVERT—!!”

“Caleb.” You held one of the bags up. He made a wheezing noise, “I thought the washing machine was eating my panties.”

You stepped toward him. He backed up. “You really like me that much?” Your voice was teasing now, but your eyes were hungry. “You jerk off with these, Caleb?”

“I—yes—I mean, I’m sorry, I mean—fuck, please don’t hate me—”

“Do I look like I hate you?” You were too close. Your fingers brushed the waistband of his sweats. His knees buckled.

“I think,” you whispered, “you should’ve just asked to smell it in person.”

He whimpered.

You’re not even sure how it happened—one minute you were teasing him about “The Locker,” sitting right there on his lap, letting your thighs squeeze his. The next? He’s gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, hard as a rock against your center, and his breath is coming out like he’s been holding it since college.

“You’re not real,” Caleb whispers, dragging his lips along the skin just above your chest like he’s still not sure this isn’t a dream. “I used to jack off so hard thinking about this—'bout you sitting on me like this, teasing me. Wearing those cute panties that always had your smell…”

“You mean my panties you used to jerk off on?” you hum, fingers curling into his nape. His cheeks go red, eyes darkening. “Fuck… you’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” you smirk. “Now that I know you’re a pervert who sniffed my panties and probably moaned my name in your pillow…”

He moans. Like full-body tremble, hips jerk, head thrown back—moans. “You gotta stop talking like that, pips,” he begs, hands squeezing your hips, “or I’m gonna cum in my fucking pants like I used to.”

You kiss his flushed neck. “Then show me. Show me how you used to get off thinking about me.”

You end up on his bed, like the universe meant it. Clothes are thrown off. Your panties tossed somewhere across the room—he grabs them mid-air and sniffs them like it’s his last inhale.

You should be nervous. You are, technically. But when you’re lying under Caleb, both of you bare to each other for the first time, you don’t feel shy or scared.

You feel… full. Not in the physical sense—though, you’re about to be—but in the soul sense. Caleb is looking at you like you hung the damn stars. One of his trembling hands is brushing your cheek.

"You're really here," he whispers.

You nod. "Yeah. I am."

He kisses you. It’s soft at first—he kisses like he’s studying, memorizing, soaking in every second. Then it gets needier. Wetter. He shifts closer until your bare thighs are touching his, and his hips rock against yours involuntarily.

You can feel him. Hard. Hot. Bigger than you expected. And twitching. And it makes you gasp a little.

He jerks back. “Wait, wait—did I hurt you?! I swear to God I didn’t mean to—” You’re laughing, cupping his cheeks. “No, Caleb. It’s okay. It just feels... different. We’ve never done this before.”

“…Yeah,” he says breathlessly, biting his lip. “Never. Not with anyone.” You blink. “Wait. You too?”

He pauses. Then he nods. “Yeah. You were my… uh. My endgame. Since like… forever.”

And it hits you like a truck.

The boy who used to jerk off to your pillow scent, hoarded your stolen panties in a hidden locker, and clung to them like lifelines during college exams—he waited. For you.

You feel the urge to cry. Instead, you pull him back into a kiss.

The first time he sees your chest bare, he just stares. Wide-eyed. Blushing. Speechless. You reach to cover yourself, but he stops you gently. “No—please. Don’t. I’ve… I’ve dreamed about this. You’re so soft. So pretty.”

His fingers are trembling as they trace your curves, your belly, your thighs. “I used to imagine your body felt like this,” he admits, leaning down to mouth at your skin. “Warm. Plush. Just like heaven.”

He kisses lower and lower, all the way to your thighs, spreading your legs with both shaky hands.

And then he just… stares again.

“You don’t have to do it if you’re nervous,” you whisper.

“I want to,” he says, eyes locked on your pussy. “I used to wonder how you tasted. I just… I’ve never done it before, so I might suck.”

“…Pun intended?”

“…Maybe.”

You snort. “Go slow.”

He does. Caleb starts with tentative licks—his nose nuzzling your mound, his tongue tracing soft stripes between your folds. His first touch to your clit makes you jolt, and he immediately panics.

“Wait—did I go too hard?!”

“No—no! It’s just sensitive. But in a good way.”

“Oh.” He beams. “Cool. That’s cool. Yeah. I can work with that.” The next time, he goes more confidently. Licks that get sloppier, messier. He moans into you when you grab his hair. “Your thighs,” he mutters, breathless, “they shake when I do this. Shit.”

He slips a finger in. Slow. Testing. Your body welcomes him in with a soft gasp. You cum unexpectedly—and he cums in his pants.

He’s so embarrassed. Face in your neck. Still panting. Still rock hard despite the mess in his boxers. “I swear I didn’t mean to! I just—god, you were so wet, and warm, and you sounded so pretty—”

You’re laughing. “Stop laughinggg,” he groans into your shoulder. You pull his face up to kiss him, forehead to forehead. “It’s fine, Caleb. That was… really hot.”

His voice goes small. “You still wanna… you know.”

“…Have sex?”

He nods. Like a nervous puppy. He reaches into the nightstand drawer. “I’ve had these forever. For, um. Just in case.”

You swallow. “Just in case of me?”

He blushes. “Yeah...Gideon put—” You kiss him like you're about to pass out from love.

When he lines up, it’s hesitant. You can see how bad he wants to just slam into you—but he’s taking his time. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispers. “Tell me if it’s weird.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Go slow.” He pushes in. And it’s… tight. A little uncomfortable. A lot fuller than your fingers ever got you. But he’s kissing your temple the whole time.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs. “So fucking pretty. So warm. I’m losing my mind.”

You giggle. “You're halfway in.”

He groans. “Baby, I know. I think I just saw God.”

Once he’s fully inside, he doesn’t move. His forehead rests against yours. He’s breathing heavy. Eyes squeezed shut.

“This is better than every single fantasy I’ve ever had,” he says. “I mean, I loved jerking off with your panties, but—”

“CALEB!”

“Sorry! Sorry—just—fuck, you feel too good.” He rocks his hips. You let out a noise that shocks you both. “You okay?”

“…More than okay.”

The pace starts clumsy. Off-rhythm. You bump noses and teeth more than once. At one point, he accidentally slips out and then fumbles trying to get back in. “…Sorry,” he mutters, forehead sweaty.

You’re giggling.

“Why’re you laughing at me again?” he pouts.

“Because you’re cute,” you whisper, pulling him back in. “And because this is our first time. It’s okay to be awkward.”

He melts. “Say it again,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“That this is ours. That you’re mine.”

You cup his face. “I’m yours, Caleb. I always have been.”

That’s all he needs.

His pace finds its rhythm. Your bodies sync. The awkwardness turns into moaning, breathy curses, skin slapping, and the softest murmurs of "I missed you" and "I wanted this for so long" between kisses.

You cum first—again—walls fluttering around him, body shaking. He cums second, seconds later, clutching you like he’s afraid he might wake up and this was all a dream.

After, he’s quiet. Still on top of you, softening slowly inside the condom, arms wrapped around your waist like you’re his anchor.

“Hey,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. “You okay?”

He sniffles.

“…Did you just cry?” you ask gently.

“No.” Sniffles again. “…Okay maybe a little.”

You pull his face up and cup his cheek. “Talk to me.”

He swallows thickly. His voice cracks. “I used to think… I’d never get to have you. I’d lie awake in my dorm bed—fucking myself stupid with your panties in one hand and your picture open in the other—and I’d cry after. Every single time.”

Your heart clenches.

“Not because of the nut,” he huffs, emotional. “Because I loved you. Because it hurt how much I wanted you.”

You hug him tight. “Caleb…”

“I wanted you to love me back,” he whispers into your hair. “Not just be my fantasy. Not just the girl I couldn’t have.”

You kiss his temple. “You have me now. For real. No more secrets. No more lockers.”

“…I’d keep that one pair,” he mumbles.

“…WHAT?!”

[scyllayoucunt]

cold idia of the north

[scyllayoucunt]

Hey!! I’m wondering if you can write about a Yuu who has a SERIOUS set of pipes. Like, this person can SING. Only thing is that they’re super shy to do it in public, so the most anybody really hears is some humming here and there. Maybe write about the overblotters passing by their room and hearing them actually sing for the first time? Thank you so much!!

Riddle Rosehearts He was walking down the hall intending to scold you for not showing up promptly to a study session. He paused outside Ramshackle when he heard your voice float through the cracked window. Riddle froze, the reprimand dying on his tongue. Your voice carried such control and emotion that he felt his chest tighten, like the sound itself was tugging at his heartstrings. For someone so fond of rules and order, he was caught off guard by how free and expressive your singing was. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t even knock—he simply stood there, flushed, until you stopped, then hurried away in silence. The next time he saw you, his ears burned red, but he found himself asking—very gently—if you might sing again sometime.

Leona Kingscholar Leona wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping. He’d crashed under a tree near Ramshackle, trying to nap, when your voice reached him. His ears twitched upright, his tail flicking with irritation that quickly melted into stillness. Your singing was warm, smooth, and heartbreakingly earnest—like you were letting a secret escape. Leona stayed perfectly still, eyes half-lidded, drinking in every note like a lullaby. When you finally stopped, he exhaled a low chuckle. “Heh. So the herbivore’s been hiding that from us, huh?” He wouldn’t tell you he heard—it’d ruin your peace. But suddenly he’s volunteering to “hang around” Ramshackle more often, ears pricked for even the faintest chance of catching you again.

Azul Ashengrotto Azul came to Ramshackle intending to bargain for a favor, contract papers tucked under his arm. But the moment he heard your voice through the door, he froze mid-step. A song, achingly tender and rich with emotion, poured out, and Azul felt something twist inside him—an envy for your effortless gift, but also admiration so sharp it hurt. He clutched his papers tighter, hands trembling slightly, because no marketing scheme or staged performance could capture the authenticity you carried naturally. He stayed until the last note faded, then slunk away quietly, glasses fogged from the warmth in his face. That night, he sat at his piano in the Monstro Lounge, trying—and failing—to replicate the way you made him feel.

Jamil Viper Jamil was delivering something from Kalim—probably food—when he passed by your window and heard you. His sharp instincts told him to move along before you noticed him. But the melody was haunting, layered with emotion that struck through his carefully-built walls of control. Jamil leaned against the wall just out of sight, his heart racing, feeling like he was intruding on something deeply personal. He understood better than anyone the reluctance to show true talent, to keep parts of yourself hidden from others. When you stopped, he exhaled slowly and walked away, leaving Kalim’s delivery at the door. Later, when he saw you, his gaze lingered longer than usual. He wouldn’t say anything directly—but he’d start humming tunes more often when around you, waiting to see if you’d join him.

Vil Schoenheit Vil came by Ramshackle with the intent of reminding you about skincare or posture, but he froze when he heard you singing inside. His trained ear for tone, control, and projection immediately recognized raw, extraordinary talent. The purity of your voice lacked the artificial polish of stage-trained singers, and that authenticity made it shine even brighter. Vil stood there, utterly still, lips parted slightly as he listened. When the song ended, he adjusted his gloves, composed himself, and knocked lightly. “Yuu… you’ve been hiding quite the gem. Don’t let me find you concealing that voice again.” He wouldn’t push you on stage right away, but he’d absolutely make it his mission to coax that talent into the spotlight—with elegance, of course.

Idia Shroud Idia wasn’t anywhere near Ramshackle physically—but he’d accidentally left a mic open during a gaming chat. While he worked on mods, faint background audio of your singing came through. At first, he assumed it was just background music from your end… until he realized it was you. He nearly dropped his controller, hair sparking pink at the roots. “W-wait—that’s—holy crap, that’s not a track, that’s THEM??” Idia frantically muted himself, pressing his headset closer, listening as though it were a sacred broadcast. He’d replay it over and over in his head, obsessively recalling the emotion and clarity in your voice. Next time you log on, his greeting is extra awkward, his voice higher pitched, and he blurts out way too quickly: “S-s-so you sing?? N-not that I was listening or anything, haha, haha…”

Malleus Draconia Malleus often took walks near Ramshackle, enjoying the silence of the night. One such evening, a song drifted through the windows—your voice, low and heartfelt, resonating with the stillness like a prayer. Malleus stopped dead in his tracks. His chest ached with an emotion so strong it made his throat tight. He had never heard something so beautiful, so profoundly human, yet touched with magic all its own. He stood under your window for the entire piece, eyes closed, committing each note to memory. When it ended, he lingered, unwilling to break the moment. The next time he spoke to you, his tone was reverent, almost solemn. “Child of man… your voice could charm even the stars. Why have you hidden it from me until now?”

[scyllayoucunt]

Read Right to Left - CW: HEALED SCARS

I think it's heavily implied that Kris self-harms, and I wondered what scars could turn into in the dark world. Got a little carried away with the colors on this one but i really like how it turned out :3

EDIT: yall please don't go into detail about your self-harm habits in the comments or reblogs It's fine to talk about relating to kris here but just remember i can read everything yall write ^_^

[scyllayoucunt]

Cuddle Me!

✰ summary: Sylus cranks the cold air conditioner after a petty argument, so you cuddle him ✰ pairing: Sylus x reader ✰ content: fluff, established relationship, you being petty and Sylus is needy but doesn't want to admit it ✰ w/c: 772 ✰ notes: Had this random idea so i had to write it! this was written super quick so forgive me if its not as good. pls ignore that you could've gotten a blanket/jacket 😭. also Sylus debut on my blog yippeee <3

🪷Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

The chilly air raises goosebumps along your arms as you shiver where you sit in Sylus’s living room. Moonlight filters in through the silk curtains, and the sound of soft classical music playing on the vinyl speaker is the only sound in the room. Both you and Sylus are quiet, neither of you making a sound as your pettiness refuses to speak to him after the argument. You’re keeping to yourself with a book you promised yourself to finish reading while Sylus is cleaning a gun from his personal collection.

You don’t even know what the argument was about, just something silly that transpired into his smug attitude egging you on. Rationally, you know that he wasn’t mean or rude to you—Sylus would rather fall face first off his penthouse before being intentionally mean to you—you can't help but give him the silent treatment.

The chill of the living room gets colder and colder. You’re in a pair of red, satin pyjamas, one of the many that Sylus has bought you, and it’s not doing anything to protect you against the frustrating cold. You could’ve sworn that it would’ve been warmer, considering the heater was just on moments ago.

You stride over to the thermostat to crank up the heat. To your surprise, the screen displays an overwhelming blue, explaining the sudden coldness. You slide the dial high, until it turns a bright red and head back to lie down on the couch with your book.

After a few minutes, the cold seeps in again. You try your best to ignore it, curling up into a ball and tucking your legs under yourself. You don’t want to get up again. The leather couch is not helping your case. In fact, it’s actively making it worse.

“Cold Kitten?” Sylus’s smug voice calls out from the other side of the room. He seems completely fine. Content even. Watching you freeze to death as you’re curled up like a literal kitten. You huff and purposely ignore eye contact. Sylus seems ever more amused watching you try to conserve your heat in the bitter temperature.

Eventually, you can't take it anymore, so you stand up begrudgingly once again to head to the thermostat. It’s set to a cool blue yet again.

“Sylus, for all your boasting about your amazing house in the N109 zone, your heating system sucks.”

“Why don’t we use our body heat to warm us up Sweetie, hm?”

“Did you do this on purpose?” You phrase it like a question, but you know that Sylus is the one behind this. The dark red tendrils of his evol hover behind the thermostat like thieves hiding from police. You try to fiddle with the settings of the thermostat, but it remains frozen at the cold temperature.

You huff again and resign yourself to sitting on the cold couch in misery. Several minutes pass as the cold air runs over your skin, wrapping around your limbs until they stiffen. Your teeth slightly chatter and your hands shake until the book you were intent on reading is neglected.

You look up at Sylus. He’s wearing his signature slacks paired with a dark sweater. His legs are spread enticingly as he continues to polish the gun in his hand. You know for sure that his body heat will be more than enough to warm you up. He’s basically a heater personified. Whenever you both cuddled to sleep, it was common for you to wake up overheated.

You sigh. You can't believe you’re about to give in. But it’ll be worth it in the end, despite the teasing you know you’ll have to deal with. You stand up and stalk towards him.

“Sylus.”

“Yes Sweetie?”

You don’t answer as you sink down onto his lap like you own it, which you do, Sylus can attest to that. You wrap your limbs around him and bury your head into his comfy chest. His calming, natural scent and overwhelming warmth instantly cocoon you. Sylus wraps his muscled arms around your body, further warming you up. He presses a loving kiss to the top of your head as he blissfully cuddles you.

“You purposefully made it cold didn’t you?” You look up at him, chin digging to his chest.

“I did Kitten, but you weren’t talking to me no matter what I did. I had to do something.” Sylus crowed.

“Just say you’re needy next time,” you hide your smile in his neck, tightening your grasp around him. Previous pettiness floating away now that you and Sylus aren’t at odds anymore.

“I will always need you Sweetie, no matter what.”

[scyllayoucunt]

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ caleb finding ur gspot <3

💭 : p in v , changing positions, mating press, prone bone, doggy, dumbification, slight degradation with praise

you didn’t know what he was doing. every time you thought he’d stop, he’d settle, he would change positions. acting like he was trying to find something inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. but your body did.

every time caleb thrusted, you clenched around him in pleasure—but it felt like he was missing something. every time he changed positions—from your legs on his shoulders, bending you in a way you didn’t even think was possible, to putting all his weight on top of you as you drool into the pillow—he blubbered something about knowing that it was somewhere inside, that he was so close to finding it.

every thrust was restless, a thrust deep—short, fast, a bit too the right, far to the left—you felt it through the fuzzy haze that muffled your hearing and overstimulating you. you felt your brain turn into mush, seeping past your lips as drool with every buck.

“c-caleb,” you slurred, face pressed against your pillow as he lifted your hips and pressed your ass against his pelvis. “‘leb, what’re you do—hah!” he quickly hushed you, thrusting harshly again, seeking for something—and you thought he hit it before missing it by a fraction. “know it’s here somewhere. fuck, fuck—gonna find it—gonna make you squirt, baby,” he panted.

he moved your hips to the side—thrusted. moved them slightly down—thrust. up again—thrust. until he pressed down on your back, making you arch against the matress and moved his knee—

he hit it and it felt like your brain popped.

you let out a sharp scream (one that your neighbors will probably call 911 thinking you were murdered) and you squirted. loud, wet, and dirty as your jaw dropped. he let out a choked gasp and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. he let out a long groan, head tilting back. “fuckkkk… there ya’ go. all dumb and fucked out for me, huh?”

he drew back, just to slam back, tip pressing against your gspot again that made your legs fly around and hips buck. “as you should, right? you like being so dumb for gege. your drooling your brains out, sweets,” he chuckled, grinding against the spot as you sobbed into the pillow.