froggiequarium - Tumblr blog

froggiequarium · 1 month ago

Text

Angel of Her Own Making | Part 1

Author's note: I'm literally at a work conference but this idea is stuck in my brain and for the sake of mankind, I need to jot it down. This isn't a fully-written piece, just a rough sketch really and totally NOT proofread, but bear with me.

WARNINGS: Reader is not the default MC, plenty of angst, depiction of violence & character death.

Parts: (1), (2)

The temporal setting is the Beyond CloudFall myth timeline.

You met Sylus when you were both kids. He'd just been taken by the humans, mistaken for a human child, and adopted into a regular family.

You played in the alleyways together, went to grade school together. He joined your class a bit later than usual as he initially refused to go (he was not interested in learning how to be a human). You were constantly scrutinized by the teachers, although you did well in school, because you were stubborn and inquisitive. But compared to Sylus, you still had a better time fitting in. Due to your "persona non grata" status, you two were often paired together, and you started helping Sylus out with his homework. At the beginning, he was nearly illiterate, having never had any need for reading, but with your patient help, he quickly caught up. Something akin to friendship grew between you two - you did most of the talking, and he was happy to listen, and for the first time in your lives, you both felt like maybe you belonged.

Then came the hormonal teenage years. He got ridiculously tall, and you started growing out your hair instead of sporting a home-grown bowl cut. Suddenly, you found yourself blushing whenever you turned around and caught crimson eyes already looking at you. The way he'd maintain the eye contact and give you a smirk almost made you lose your mind, because it felt like he had no idea what he was doing to your emotions. Little did you know, the dragon-boy was struggling with his own confused emotions. He'd read human books and heard the human adults talk about these sorts of things, but he never thought it was possible for him to actually experience anything beyond general fondness. So he said nothing to you about it, adopting a nonchalant appearance that only made him all the more attractive to not just you but also the other girls in your town on the outskirts of Taurus City.

With puberty came other, more alarming changes Sylus had always dreaded. Ever since he cut off his horns, he had half-hoped no one would ever find out about his true origins. Much to his dismay, the skin on his forehead felt taut and irritated, as though something was growing underneath and preparing to break through, and his shoulder blades ached like the bones and muscles were realigning themselves. He could hide these terrifying abnormalities by putting on a hat and bearing through the pain, but he couldn't fool you, his best friend.

You noticed his discomfort before long. Perhaps the only person in the world more stubborn than Sylus himself, you got the truth out of him quickly enough. Sylus was fully expecting you to be disgusted and resent him for being a fiend. Imagine his utter shock when you simply gave him a smile and squeezed his arms, telling him that it was alright, that he had nothing to fear.

You revealed something about yourself that you had told no one else before: you had recollections of a life you once lived, fragmented memories of another existence that ended a long time ago. Sometimes, you'd come across something that evoked this extreme sense of nostalgia that you couldn't quite place, but in your heart of hearts, you knew this was not your first time being alive. You were afraid he'd find you odd and laugh you off, but he didn't. In fact, in that moment, he thought he finally understood what he felt for you. Yet he couldn't bring himself to confess, still fearful that he would be pushing his luck if he did.

On Philos at the time (which felt and looked Medieval), people got married young. As you and Sylus got more comfortable around each other again, there was a tacit promise between you. It wasn't like either of you had the courage to say anything, but there was no mistaking your affection for each other. For you, there was no one else you could see yourself spending the rest of time with. And you were hoping Sylus felt the same, until one day when he just disappeared.

Two more days passed; you searched frantically for him, running from house to house, knocking on doors and asking if anyone had seen him. Your parents thought it was unbecoming of a young maiden such as yourself to so publicly pine after a man, but you didn't care. You even asked his foster parents, who knew you well by that point, but there was something off about the way they dodged your questions. You thought you heard his foster mom say something along the lines of "the boy is better off hidden away" and your anxiety shot through the roof. You were so frustrated that you cried yourself to sleep at night. In fact, you were tossing and turning in bed, unable to get any rest, when somebody pelted your window with pebbles. Only one person would ever do that, and the joy that surged through you was almost dizzying as you threw off your blanket and ran to the window.

And there he was, his face shadowed by the hood of his cloak, his eyes shining like rubies under the moonlight. He waved at you, and you had a thousand questions to ask, but he only shook his head and made you promise to meet him at the datura fields outside of town after sunset the day after. You immediately agreed, completely ready to elope with him if he asked.

Fate, of course, had other plans. Sylus waited for you in the field of flowers, but instead of you, the soldiers of the Justicia came. The Supreme Adjudicator led them in a divine mission to rid Philos of the last fiend. They taunted him, saying it was you who'd ratted him out. And the rest was history.

1677 years. He spent over a millennium in that Abyss, a sword driven through his chest yet not quite killing him off. In the early days of his imprisonment, you were constantly in his thoughts. He did not want to believe you - of all people - had betrayed him, but the darkness and the rage won out in the end, and by the time he realized there was another prisoner in the Abyss, all he could remember about you was how much he hated you.

It was easy, then, for him to fall in love with the human girl who pulled the sword out of his chest and set him free. Even if any part of him still had feelings for you, he figured you were already long dead. In contrast to those distant memories of your shared childhoods, his new-found object of desire was oh-so-vivacious. She satiated his depthless hunger, willingly offering him half of her soul. And as each day passed, he wanted to give more and more of him to her, despite his own nature. He would ask her to use him, to use his strength, to be greedy - it was almost as though he'd been stagnant for so long that he'd rather burn out in a blaze of glory than survive another empty stretch of eternity.

Even if you weren't around, his arch enemies were still coming after him. And they eventually caught up with him and his human beloved. When they took her away from him, he vowed to break her free, retreating deep into the forests to recover his strength for a counter-attack.

But his pursuers were relentless. The Supreme Adjudicator - the latest in a long line of Adjudicators, descended from that very first one who sealed him away - summoned the Order of the Holy Knights to aid him in this hunt. And it was the Holy Knights who chased after Sylus now as he fled farther and farther up the mountains. Separated from one half of his soul, his wounds would not heal, and he hadn't enough strength to take to the skies. As he moved, he left a trail of blood that stood out glaringly against the white snow of winter. He hardly knew how many days had passed before he found himself cornered.

He couldn't die yet. Not when she was still waiting for him to rescue her. Thus, he fought with everything he had left - claws, fangs, tail, wings, in a whirlwind of black and red mist. He failed to notice at first that his assailants weren't trying to retaliate as much as evade him. Were they stupid? Or unsure? Why weren't they going for the kill? These religious zealots weren't ones to toy with their prey.

After a frenzy of movement, he paused - both to catch his breath and to reassess. The Knights surrounded him, silver armor glimmering though their swords remained sheathed. As he stared at them, thrown off by their lack of action, they parted to make way for their commander - a smaller figure, clad in rose-gold metal that gave off an ethereal glow. As this commander stepped forward, the other Knights bowed their heads in deference.

When the person removed their helmet, Sylus couldn't believe his eyes. Perhaps his mind, in its death throes, was playing tricks on him. Yet there was no denying who it was - you. In the flesh. Looking only slightly older than you had then, when you had been friends.

You approached him like you were trying to appease a bear caught in a trap. He wanted to lash out, to rip you apart for the crimes you had committed against him, but even the smallest move from him caused alarm to rise among your troops. Two of the Knights, most likely your closest companions, were especially quick to react. Sylus didn't doubt that they would cut him down in an instant to protect you.

Sensing their agitation, you raised a hand to calm them down. Your eyes remained locked on Sylus, your brows strewn together in what he didn't want to believe was grief. You had thrown him to the wolves, so how dare you look so sad? How dare you look at him with such a tender gaze? Your pity was the last thing he wanted.

He made up his mind to take revenge, pushing himself forward, claws outstretched, aiming for your throat. But before he could lay a hand on you, his legs gave out - he had lost too much blood - and he collapsed. He didn't even realize you'd caught him before he hit the ground, your arms wrapping around his broken body.

It was all darkness again while he was unconscious. When he finally came to, it took him a moment to even comprehend where he was - a small bedroom, with a low ceiling and sparse furnishings. Something moved in his periphery, and he turned to strike, only to find you stirring awake. From the looks of it, you had been staying up to take care of him.

It should have taken another millennium for him to even entertain the thought of forgiving you. But there was no time to waste; he didn't even want to spend a second talking to you when he could be out there trying to save her.

You insisted that he stay for another day, just until his wounds fully stopped bleeding. And when he pushed you aside and sprang from his bed anyways, your companions had to intervene. They did not understand why you were being so patient to Sylus, why you were willing to basically commit treason. But these men - Issac and Zachary - owed you their lives, and they would do anything you asked, even if it meant tolerating the presence of a fiend. Even so, they did not like the way Sylus seemed to spit at your kindness, for did he not know who you were? The Commander of the Holy Knights, the legendary warrior who led Philos's legions to conquer foreign lands near and far? And it was not even your conquests that had earned you respect and love from all; it was the way you treated even your former enemies with empathy, allowing aid to reach foreign cities and ensuring equal treatment for new citizens. More than once, you had abandoned a conquest simply because the human cost was too high, and you'd sooner suffer punishment than let innocents perish in the name of Philos. Your popularity even rivaled that of the ruling monarch. Hence, your immense sway over what the Knights could and could not do.

Met with your sincere concern, Sylus did what he knew how to do best: he struck a deal. He told you that if you'd let him go to his beloved, he'd let you finish him off without putting up a fight. In his anger, he sneered and dismissed your concern as a trick, a pathetic ploy to get him to let his guard down again so you could drive the knife in even deeper. You made no attempt to argue, caring only that he was risking himself. But when he practically asked you to kill him, you flat out refused.

"No, I told you, I have no intention to harm you," you stood firm, blocking his way. You had shed your armor and weapons, wearing only simple civilian's clothing. Even a weakened dragon could end your life if it so wished.

The thing was, Sylus wasn't sure why he hadn't yet got rid of you and left already. He tried to rationalize it - there were still guards outside the room, and you were his best bet at getting out unscathed. "You misunderstand me, human. I want you to kill me," he changed tactics, revealing a half-truth.

You looked surprised. "Why...?"

"Because..." He inched closer, leaning down to really study your features. It was you, no doubt. The same girl he'd grown up with, the same girl who should have died ages ago. The same girl he'd detested for the better part of a thousand years. "I can't make her do it."

"What?"

"The dragon's curse," he explained. "I am destined to kill my beloved. Unless she kills me first. And I can't do that to her... I can't have her carry that guilt."

You blinked, clearly stunned. You took a step back, avoiding his gaze. Something in the way your shoulders deflated told him you were hurt, though he could not imagine why. When you spoke again, there was the faintest quiver in your voice, "And you think I'd be able to carry that guilt in her place?"

The question only made him angrier. "You won't have to carry any guilt," he replied. "Because you won't feel any. Or don't tell me you're doing all of this because you are capable of guilt? As if you could make amends for turning me in?"

Confusion flashed across your expression as you looked up at him. "Is that what you think happened? Is that what they told you?"

Sylus laughed - a humorless, empty sound. "You never came. It doesn't matter what happened. I'm still convinced you're just a specter sent from Hell to torment me."

For a moment, you looked like you wanted to argue, to defend yourself. He could see the words forming on the tip of your tongue, see you open your mouth to begin your rebuttal. When you said nothing instead, part of him was glad - because he was beginning to realize he wouldn't be able to stand it if you had contradicted the narrative he'd repeated to himself all this time.

No, you didn't try to argue. You only withdrew further away, as though he'd physically struck you. It was only when he sought to close the gap that he realized that you'd created a force field between you and him. It was your Evol, the ability to create constructs out of pure energy. You two used to have so much fun combining your Evol and building castles of out of thin air.

"I will bring her back," You declared, already turning away. "I know my word means nothing to you, but it's better that I go than you. The Justiciars are prepared for you; neither of you would make it out of there alive. I, on the other hand, can just walk right in. They won't suspect a thing. I'll have her back here by dawn."

"Why should I trust you?" Sylus chuckled bitterly. The force field couldn't last forever.

"I don't expect you to. If I don't return by dawn, my men will not give you any trouble. They are under oath to obey me. Then you can do anything you'd like."

"And why would I agree to that?"

"Because you have no other choice," your tone was final. As you walked towards the door, you turned to look at the man you loved one last time. "I hope she makes you happy."

Waiting was agony, but Sylus could tell in his soul that his beloved was still alive. He paced around his chamber restlessly, as the night stretched on.

The so-called Sorceress was returned to him before first light, just as you'd promised. One of your Knights, Sir Issac, had stolen her away during the chaos of your battle against the Justiciars and their Arbiterwings. And as Sylus embraced his lover and showered her with his affections, he also felt his hatred for you fall away. Although he would never admit it aloud, he was looking forward to seeing you again, if only to thank you for what you'd done.

But there were to be no second chances. You never returned. Only Sir Zachary arrived at the safe house days later, his face drained of color. He was clutching a letter in his hand. A letter which he begrudgingly delivered to Sylus.

"What's this?" MC asked, wide-eyed. Despite her ordeal, she was relatively unharmed. Her mistreatment at the hands of the Justiciars only served to intensify her thirst for vengeance. Already, she was conspiring with Sylus about which area they should raid next.

"It's from my lady," Sir Zachary said flatly, not putting a lot of effort into hiding his discomfort. His sullen demeanor made Sylus suddenly uneasy. "It's for the fiend's eyes only."

"Oh, alright," said MC. She turned to Sylus and winked. Perhaps, she was planning on teasing him for the information later. "I'll leave you to it then." Now, it was only Sylus in the room. Alone with his thoughts, and your words.

Dear Stäyrus, or should I say Sylus now?

His lips curved into a smile, despite the knot of anxiety twisting in the pit of his stomach. You remembered. Of course, you did. You were alive when he was but a child. You were perhaps the last person to speak that long-lost language - certainly the last to write with it, as you did in your letter.

You opened the message with an apology you didn't expect him to accept, before beginning a tale almost as incredible as his own. Bits and pieces of the life you once shared came back to him as he read: you had been reincarnated once before, that much he knew, but what you were telling him now was beyond anything he could imagine.

Part 2

#.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧ aquarium library #everyone #lock in #starting from 1 #so u guys can read in order #lock #in #this shit is SO good #op ur brain MUAH #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus

736 notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

untamed desires | sylus

soaked with love

next door distraction

7 minutes in heaven

my next divorce?

I missed you, sweetie

sweet mess

we're dating now?

off script!

spoil me, raw

pulled over or bent over?

do i wanna know?

to be continued <3

2 (or more) posts whenever I can :3

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list

77 notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

SMILE FOR THE PICTURE <3

summ. you asked the best photographer in your school to help take pictures of you for your project, not take a video of you guys doing it!

pairing. Caleb x f!reader cw. nerd!caleb, p in v, fingering, masturbation, recording during sex, creampie, dirty thoughts, kissing, handjob, college au, petnames, dirty talk, kitchen sex, 3.7k wc (wtf omg) a/n. hello yes this is kiindaa based off this post ... I just added a tiny switch up hehe

“Is that all you need help with?” Caleb asked, his eyes darting around the library and back at you.

“Please Caleb?”

A tired sigh escaped his lips, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in disbelief, “So what you’re saying is that you want me to take pictures of you for your project?”

You nod.

“I don’t believe it, why do you need me?”

An annoyed sigh escaped your lips and you leaned in closer, being just centimeters away from his face.

“I heard you’re the best photographer and editor, so I need someone to help me so I can pass the class… so, please, just help me this one time?”

Caleb lightly rolled his eyes and stared at you before agreeing, “fine I’ll do it—but I’ll need something in return.”

“I’ll give you anything, Alright? I’ll email you some of my photos and then we can move on from there.” You say, sliding over a scrap piece of paper with your email displayed on it and walked off.

You didn’t even let him speak the second you skipped away from him and headed over to your little friends, giggling and loudly walking yourself out the library, practically announcing to everyone that you’re leaving.

Caleb glared at your figure already leaving the library and sighed against his seat, at least he’ll have something to do for the night.

As the day progressed Caleb was already in his dorm, studying for his other subjects. It was late in the evening and he had totally forgotten about the little deal you made with him, until he heard a crackle sound beneath him.

An exasperated sigh left his lips and he reached in his pocket for the tiny piece of paper with your email on it, he rested it in front of him as his fingers instinctively started typing away on his laptop.

Without realizing or reading over what he had written, the email had already been sent to you. Caleb panicked and tried to find out how to edit, or even delete to send it again, but when nothing was popping up he closed his laptop and attempted to distract himself before you responded.

A few minutes passed and a ding blared through Caleb's laptop. A shaky sigh escaped his lips before he carefully opened up his laptop and checked his emails. He refreshed countless times until, finally your response loaded up.

Caleb read the reply out loud and hovered his cursor over the pdf files of multiple photos you sent, “‘hey these are the photos’, yada yada…mmh alright.” After a second of hesitating he finally brought the courage to click on the photos.

And they were…beautiful.

Caleb was starstruck. He scrolled through the five photos you sent and inspected every single one, eyeing every perfect curve, your pretty eyes, practically just admiring you.

He never really talked to you, mainly because he thought you wouldn't talk to him if he tried talking to you first, but when you stepped up and spoke to him first, Caleb felt like it had to be a prank. Whether it was for the project or not, he didn't mind it, in fact, he’d probably want to work with you again, if he could.

He exited out of the pictures, getting ready to write his reply when he noticed you sent something else. Only captioning the file with ‘and a little surprise for you <3 you look like you’d be into this so i hope this gives you a little motivation !!’

Curious, Caleb clicked on the file without thinking and immediately regretted it. Well, was it regret? Definitely not. Caleb’s perverted eyes scanned at every part of the scandalous photo you sent. He brought his shaky hands to his mouse and instinctively started zooming in on every part.

“Damn it.” he murmured, squirming around his chair as he tried to hold himself back from touching himself, even though the last time he actually masturbated to someone was years before his third year in college, he didn't want to just break the streak when he knows damn well you will leave him once this project was over.

But one time wouldn't hurt, right? I mean, he was practically aching down there.

Caleb brought his fingers to the waistband of his shorts and played with it as he imagined different dirty scenarios with you. He eventually slid his fingers under his shorts, grabbing onto his hard, searing length, wrapping his cold fingers around it. He pumped his fist in a quick motion, staring at your picture through his already teary eyes, captivating every pixel he could see through his blurry vision.

“Ah-shit..” he whined, bucking his hips forward and soon brought his other hand to his cock, pretending it was yours. That thought just turned him on even more and he was practically trying everything to hold himself back from coming too early.

He glanced back at the picture, his glasses were slightly slipping off his nose but he didnt care. He yanked his head back, his pace going even quicker on himself and he was so, soo, clo–

“Fuck..”

Spurs of white pellucid mixture dripped out of Caleb, most of it getting on his desk and papers all over the desk. He breathed heavily as his violet eyes stared into in the ceiling, rethinking his fucking choices.

A few minutes passed and Caleb took a cold shower and eventually cleaned up himself, and the desk. He sat back on desk, reopening his laptop and quickly went to reply to your email. God, he was worried how he was going to face you the next day.

His fingers hovered over the light keys illuminating through his laptop, a response was stuck somewhere in the back of his head but he couldn't bring it back to him. He pondered for a moment, his mind spiraling with many, many thoughts, none of them were recollecting what he was going to say.

Caleb let out an annoyed groan and hit his head on his desk repeatedly. He’ll just respond tomorrow, when his mind was cleared out.

The next day after his classes were over, Caleb headed to the library to study for a bit. He put his ear buds in and started reading his book. But as he was too distracted by the gibberish of numbers and letters that somehow keeps him captivated the whole time he's studying, he didn't notice a presence in front of him.

A minute passed, and he still didn't notice. That was until someone yanked his earbuds off which caused Caleb to flinch dramatically. He looked up to see who disturbed his peace, about to stand up for himself until he realized it was you.

“What..”

“Why’d you not respond last night?”

Caleb's face flushed in a light pink tone, but he remained calm, a small smirk rested on his lips as he was trying to think of an excuse on the spot. He couldn't just tell you that he got off at the seductive picture you totally sent to rile him up with.

“I was too tired too, sorry. But I saw everything you sent.”

“You did?” you grin, leaning in closer as you stared into his eyes.

“Mhm, everything.”

“Did you like the surprise picture?” you said, a hint of teasing laced in your voice as you watched for Caleb's reaction. He was trying to act tough so badly, but you noticed how difficult it was for him to keep up the tough act and that just made you want to push his limits even further.

“Caleb?” you whisper.

Caleb’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down the second you whispered his name and he avoided your gaze, “..yeah.” he mumbled, his voice dropping five octaves deeper. You smile and pull away from him, looking down at him before shrugging.

“If you read the email–which I doubt you did–I told you to come over to my place tonight to take some practice pictures.”

“Practice? Wait, when did you even say that?” Caleb frantically started typing on his computer and pulled out the email. Embarrassment washed through his whole face when he read the first email which he totally ignored.

“I see…”

“Uh huh, the pictures I sent you last night were for reference, you know? How you’re going to take them and etcetera.” you fan your hands at him and Caleb stared at you for a good minute before nodding and closing his laptop, notebook, everything lying on the desk.

“Why’re you packing up right now?”

“Well? Why don’t we start early? I have studying to do and I don't want to spend the whole night taking pictures of you.”

You open your mouth, hesitant to say something but when no words could get out, you zipped your lips shut and turned around, walking yourself out of the library. You took small glances to see if Caleb was actually following you, when you noticed he was just a few meters away, you nodded to yourself and continued to walk to your place.

A ten minute walk later both you and Caleb end up at the front door of your apartment. You grab the keys from your purse and turn around, looking at Caleb while the key is shoved deep in the keyhole.

“Wait here, and do you have your camera?”

Caleb nods and rests his shoulder against the wall next to him. You nod and head inside your place. Caleb assumed you were cleaning it up so he leaned back and patiently waited as the sounds of shuffling and stuff moving around were getting louder and louder by the second.

A few minutes pass and you open the door letting Caleb in. Caleb looked around your whole place, his eyes darting on every piece of furniture that was definitely your style, and soon averting his gaze to the large window that showed off the view from outside.

It was already close to sunset and the lightning looked amazing to take pictures with. Caleb brought out his camera and tried turning it on when his worst nightmare happened.

“Dead?”

“Dead.”

A minute of silence echoed through the room, you and Caleb looked at each other before awkwardly chuckling at each other.

“I have a charger, be right back.” you say.

Caleb nodded and sat against your kitchen counter, fidgeting the camera around his fingers before you came back and slid the charger to him. He nodded in appreciation and quickly went to put his camera to charge.

“What should we do now?” Caleb asked, glancing at you then back at his camera.

You ponder for a moment then an idea lights up in your head, “Come, i’ll show you more of my photos so you can get an idea on what to do.” you unwillingly grab onto Caleb's wrist and drag him to your bedroom.

Which looked fairly normal, a little basic. Just a desk consisting of two monitors lying on it, a bookshelf, and your bed. You drag Caleb to your desk and you plop on the chair, unlocking your monitor in a quick movement and pulling out your camera roll.

“Some pictures may be weird so don't mind it, okay?”

Caleb nodded and glued his eyes to your monitor.

As the time went on and you were showing dozens upon dozens of photos to him, that's when your camera roll started to look a little too explicit and Caleb swore you were doing it on purpose.

“Oh whoops!” you giggle, letting Caleb quickly look at the explicit pictures of you, and at this point he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t going to show that he liked it, but something else was about to shatter him from this nonchalant persona.

He watched you scroll through the pictures as his bottom half felt numb. Caleb looked at the bottom of the camera roll and noticed you were almost at the end of it, just a few more pictures to go and he could go to the bathroom to fix the problem down there.

When you finally showed the last picture Caleb nodded and enthusiastically told you how he knew exactly what he was doing and started backing away from your desk. You raise an eyebrow and get up from your seat walking behind him.

“Where's the bathroom?” Caleb asked, looking left and right at the two different hallways that could lead to anywhere. You peered your head up and brushed past him, but mistakenly stumbled over his shoelace and grabbed onto his thigh to catch yourself.

“Cal–uh..”

Your eyes widened and you looked up at Caleb's flushed look and down to your hand which was not on his thigh.

“Don’t move, please…” he mumbled, covering half his face with his hand as he carefully stepped back, but he was too much in a haze to even focus. He tripped on himself and stumbled against you again, making your hand practically rub on his boner.

“Shit…”

“You said you wanted something in return, why don’t I give you the favor right now and then you could take my pictures, how’s that?” you say, looking up at caleb who was still flushed bright red at the situation happening at the moment.

“I- fine..” he nodded and you smiled, sliding your fingers under his pants, slowly pulling them down and stare at his leaking bulge imprinting his boxers. Eventually, you pull his boxers down and let his cock spring out and, Fuck.

You wrap your fingers around his length and pump your fist in a slow, rhythmic movement, letting Caleb savour the time. Loud whines filled the room and you continued the same pace as you watched his reaction.

“Mo–ngh”

“Hmm?”

“More..” he breathed, Caleb's fingers slid in your hair and he pulled your head up so you could look at him. “Please.”

You smirk and fasten the pace on him, after one hand starts getting tired, you bring your other one and do the same movements to his cock. Both your hands were on his hard, sticky length. With one hand circling around the tip and the other pumping his full length Caleb was practically moaning like a virgin.

You slick your thumb on his tip and leaned in closer, about to make your mouth get put to use but Caleb stopped you and shook his head, “not yet..,‘m close” he groaned, his voice echoed through the room which sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re close? Then why don’t you hold it in.” you challenge, pulling your hands away from his cock and staring up at caleb who looked like he was going to die without the feeling of your hands on his.

“Hold it in, can you do that?” you whisper, getting up from your knees and leaned in closer, your hot breath ghosted against Caleb's skin. But Caleb couldnt even spit out any words, his eyes flicker on yours and before you could tease him further he crashed his lips on yours.

Caught off guard, you reciprocate the kiss and push him further against the wall, grabbing onto the sides of his face as you push yourself closer against him. Your bodies were practically molded together and Caleb lightly bit on your lip when he felt you grinding yourself against him.

His fingers made their way to your waist and soon snaked down to your pants, toying with the edges of it before pulling them down. His fingers slid lower on your body and soon reached your soaking, dripping cunt.

He slid a finger inside you and stroked a slow, deliberate pattern, stimulating and stretching you out before he put his cock inside you. He was holding himself back so bad but he lets the last drops of self control drip down him before he rams his cock inside you.

“Let me…” Caleb whispered, pulling his fingers out of you and stared at the mess coated on his fingers. You grunt and press yourself against him, he takes it as an indication that he can put himself inside you and without thinking he does it right away.

“urgh w-wait–” before you could tell Caleb to go to your bed or another room he lifted you up and pressed his tip against your soaking entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. He wasn't even a quarter in and you felt like you were full, you cling onto him as he lifts your body up and down on his cock.

“K-kitchen” you moan, burying your head on his shoulder. Caleb nods and effortlessly walks towards the kitchen with half his length inside you. You felt him press you against the counter and slightly pull himself away so he could see your face.

Caleb stared at you with love and lust filled in his eyes, his glasses were barely on him, his eyes were teary, and fuck he still looked like a beauty. You yanked your head back when you felt him sink deeper inside you, his tip practically hitting every right spot, and you felt like you were in heaven.

You wink your eyes open and get used to your surroundings again and notice the camera was still charging next to you. Caleb watched your every move as you picked up the camera and flicked it on. It beeped for a moment and flashed unlocked.

When the camera was on you smiled and glanced at Caleb who was too much in a daze to know what you were doing and angle the camera directly at his beautiful face. You coo his name and he averted his gaze to the camera that was in your hands.

“Smile.” you manage to get out and notice Caleb smirk before you flash a picture. Your eyes widened as you clicked the picture and he looked heavenly. Caleb chuckled as he continued to ram himself in and out of you, using one of his hands to grab the camera.

“Let me see.” he murmured, resting his fingers on yours which were still on the camera. You carefully gave him the camera and he examined the photo, a menacing chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head, “don’t I look great?” he chuckled.

“Mhm”

“Yeah?”

You nod again and Caleb angled the camera to you, his hands, which were once shaky weren't shaky anymore and he looked at you before looking back into the camera screen.

“Smile for the picture.”

Before you could let out a smile you felt Caleb shove his full length deep, deep inside you. A wave of shock went through you and you heard the camera shutter when you noticed he took a picture of an expression you made that was most definitely not a smile.

“That’s a good–mmph e-expression! Shit, do it again.” he whined, continuing to ram himself deep inside you, the impact of his hard tip abusing your cervix sent you to a spiral, you stared at Caleb through teary eyes and shook your head.

“Come on, baby.” he begged, still having the camera aimed at you. A loud moan escapes your lips and you roll your hips against Caleb’s. Caleb let loud a low whistle and lowered the camera to the view of his cock buried balls deep inside you.

“Look at t-that..” he chuckled, slowing the pace down. He was already close to release and he didn't want to pull away. Caleb kept the camera at the same angle it was at before and brought his other hand to your stretched out cunt, placing his thumb against the clit as he stretched it out and watched the mess pool out of you.

“You’re recording? A-and you-?!” you couldn't even get any more words out. Caleb nodded and apologized repeatedly.

“I'm sorry.. It was on a-accident” he coughed, shaking the camera around as he slowly started pulling himself out of you. The sounds of the slick seeping out of you filled the room and it just turned Caleb on even more, when he was just almost the tip out of you, Caleb angled the camera from your lower half to your face and thrusted himself back into you.

His pace was quick and his moans grew louder at every thrust he gave. Caleb was practically over the moon and the feeling was just something he wished to experience again. Caleb placed the camera down on the counter and aimed it where you both were in frame.

“Can you handle one more–y-yes? Or no?” he asked, leaning in closer to your face, his breath tickling on your warm skin, you nod and Caleb chuckled, lifting your legs over his shoulders and thrusted himself one more time.

“That's good, might as well go until the camera dies again, should we, baby?”

You didn't know how many rounds you both did, you were almost going to pass out midway through sex but Caleb somehow calmed you down and you stayed awake, didn’t pass out once no matter how many times he filled you up, it was like he was magic.

Both you and Caleb just finished getting cleaned up and you both were back at the kitchen. He held onto his camera as he went through the multiple photos and videos he took, the longest video being about an hour and a half long, which resulted in the camera dying just the second before you were going to cum.

Caleb smirked as he looked through the photos and one photo caught him by surprise, he inspected the photo and flipped the camera towards you. “You look good in this.” he said, as a death piercing gaze was locked on you.

“I’m practically clothless in that, what's so special about it?”

“You can keep it for your album of those types of photos…” he shrugged, turning the camera back towards him and looking at the photo again. You shrug and that's when you realized.

“We haven't taken my practice pictures yet!”

“Well, can you still do it, or should I come back tomorrow?” Caleb grinned, stepping towards you and stared into your eyes with a teasing look.

“Let's get it over with, today.”

Caleb frowned, “Okay one second,” He said, angling the camera at you again.

“Smile.”

part 2 of fly into your heart -> next work

#.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧ aquarium library #PLSPLSPLS #need more of this immedietaly #absolutely feening for it #i love this sm op muah ur brain

2K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

"wanna spoil me in every way ,its valentines like everyday,, ⸺red moon in venus valentines event ; signs of love each day until valentine's day

tracklist:

jan 31: in my garden... - lnds sylus x reader (fluff)

feb. 1: i wish you roses - lnds jeremiah x reader (fluff)

feb. 2: worth the wait - lnds rafayel x reader (nsfw!)

feb. 3: love between.... - lnds sylus x reader (fluff!)

feb. 4: all mine - lnds xavier x reader (nsfw!)

feb. 5: fantasy - lnds zayne x reader (nsfw!)

feb. 6: como te quiero yo - lnds rafayel x reader (nsfw)

feb. 7: hasta cuando - lnds caleb x reader (nsfw)

feb. 8: endlessly - lnds xavier x reader (fluff)

feb. 9: moral conscience - lnds caleb x reader (angst ,nsfw)

feb. 10: not too late - lnds zayne x reader (angst -> fluff)

feb. 11: blue - lnds GoT!rafayel x reader (angst)

feb. 12: deserve me - lnds luke & kieran x reader (fluff)

feb. 13: moonlight - lnds sylus x reader (fluff -> nsfw!)

feb. 14: happy now - lnds caleb x reader (fluff!)

demo tracks:

feb. : ??? - lnds dragon! sylus x reader

feb. : ??? - lnds dawnbreaker zayne x reader

feb. : ??? - ???

note: planned masterlist subject to change based on.. vibes... also important: some of the songs actual meanings may differ from the fic content because i tend to take specific lines out of context for inspo reasons... if u listen to the songs & notice this then this is the reason :x

#shameless self promo #bc i finally brought myself to finish the last remaining fic #LMFAO #now 2 my bday fics

148 notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

21:58 — caleb comes home and fucks you in his colonel uniform.

➸ author's note: just a horny drabble i wrote on a whim. he looks so fine in that goddamn uniform it's making me feral :( not proofread btw!

“this what you wanted, baby?”

you’re on all fours, knuckles white as you desperately claw on the sheets, knees digging in the soft mattress as your ass hangs proudly in the air. you feel tears well up in your eyes, feeling them almost roll into your skull from how good caleb was eating you out.

you just know it’s absolutely nasty behind you. he’s slurping your slick like a man severely depraved, and oh — how his tongue slowly spelt each letter of his name over your walls covered in white. he’s diabolic for this. sprawled out bare naked beneath him, and he’s all clad in that damn colonel uniform that he knows has you reeling for him.

the smooth leather of his gloves presses on your clit, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your sensitive nub as he teasingly pushes the tip of his tongue in and out of your gaping hole. you quiver, a downpour of sinister noises resonating around the room. it merely fuels him to drive you mad from his tongue alone.

“c-caleb,” you cry out, your vocabulary dwindling down to one word, and you chant it over and over again in a mantra, the oversensitivity triggering cry after cry as he’s about to pull another orgasm out of you.

how many times has he made you cum already? three? four? or maybe five? you don’t know, you don’t remember, you lost count. hell, you weren’t even counting in the first place. all you know is that you’re about to approach another intense peak.

“cumming again, pips?” he speaks against your sopping folds, the vibrations of his mockery has you arching your back into a deeper curve. he doesn’t even have to ask, he already knows from the way your legs inevitably shake, moans turning up to a higher frequency as your folds clench tighter around his tongue. he wants you to feel him, take everything he has to offer you.

oh, how he wanted to fuck you so bad as if you’ve downgraded into a mere fleshlight, his cock straining tightly against his pants, but nothing is rewarding enough without patience. so, he waits, waits for you to fall apart one more time in his mouth before he can finally fill you up like you’ve always wanted.

“caleb, caleb, p-please…!” you cry out, drooling against the sheets but you pay no mind to the mess you’re making, your thoughts fixated on the way his tongue and thumb drew patterns on your soaking cunt.

back and forth he flicked his tongue against you, leather-clad thumb playing with your clit and snap goes the string in your gut, gushing out like niagra falls and into his awaiting mouth. he laps everything up, lips engulfing your entire pussy as you uncontrollably shake beneath him.

his hands find their place on your hips, keeping you still as he finishes any remains from your high, only pulling away when he knows you rode it out.

“such a good pipsqueak f’me…” he mutters adoringly, loving eyes wandering over your bare body as he finally frees his cock from its restraints, not completely pulling his pants down.

you gasp, feeling the dripping tip tease itself against your folds, and you feel his chest press on your back, lips hovering over the shell of your ear.

“gonna take my cock like a good girl, won’t you, pips? your gege’s gonna make you feel so, so good…” he whispers, voice hot and sensual, aching with need as you finally feel the angry veins of his cock slowly breach your insides.

“ha… ngghh… caleb…” tears form in your eyes again, not from the pain, but rather from how good it felt. everything about caleb feels good, but nothing beats the way his girth perfectly sheathes itself inside you, only to fuck himself in and out of you for hours on end.

he chuckles menacingly from the way your face twists in pleasure, white-knuckled from how tight you were clawing on the sheets as the sound of skin slapping continuously bounced off the walls.

“c-caleb…” you sob, your mind completely gone beyond mush as you can solely focus on the way his cock kept kissing your cervix. “too much..!”

“shhh…” he soothes you, thumbs drawing circles over your skin. “you can take it, yeah? i know you’re a strong pipsqueak,” he whispers against your ear, voice ever-so gentle that it shows a stark contrast between his mean thrusts.

you try running away, the overstimulation overwhelms your senses to the point where you dwindle down into a sobbing and drooling mess.

“oh no, no, no.” if it weren’t for the steel grip he has on your hips, you’re certain your legs would’ve gone out by now. you let out a strangled cry, immobile as his cock kept rearranging your insides.

“just six more minutes, baby,” he murmurs, “six more. so be a good girl, yeah?”

you whine, unable to comprehend his words yet you nodded nonetheless, too cock drunk to care anymore. when he meant six minutes, however, he meant two more hours.

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list

3K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

𝄞 bloodhound

𓍯𓂃 hybrid sylus x female reader

(10k wc) ✦ summary: demanding, old, hostile— just a few of the warnings the man at the local shelter gave you before opening its cage. but it doesn’t matter. so long as he can protect you, all else can be forgiven. yet he’s more wolf than dog. more… man than wolf.

✦ content hybrid! sylus, nsfw/smut, hints of violence (not between mc/sylus), tension, kind of enemies to lovers-? he warms up to mc, knotting & adjusting to it, feral behavior, cunnilingus, slight somnophilia (not detailed), hinted age gap (all parties are 18+), possessive behavior, size difference,

✦ sidenote as by popular demand we have the latest installment of the lads hybrid collection 🙂‍↕️ i apologize in advance bc even as a wolf-man creature i made sylus older, because yall already know i love me a good ol’ fashioned dilf. dont ask me what bro is in dog years just know he’s scruffy! anyways do enjoy this lil thing while u wait for the caleb fic which i am busting my ass for :] 💕 ALSO sorry. he’s not feline this time… >_< this is def not my fav piece but i hope some of the girlies will like this one :] i did work hard on it it’s quite long. i gave it plot but tbh the smut is straight up filthy 😖 ig all we have left to do is hybrid rafayel! but that boy’s gonna have to wait lol :,) i do hav an idea for him tho ;D

With every step, it feels as if the walls of your apartment are closing in on you.

By your feet, at the front door you hardly have the coordination to close- blundering with the lock- lay a bouquet. Scattered. Flowers strew themselves across your hall as you kick the clasped bunch with the tip of your heel and glide from room to room, warily ducking into each one with your hand braced in front of your body, ready to beat and thrash and fight for your life.

In your other hand- a note. Crumpled, now. Shaking between your fingers.

You don’t think he’s gotten inside again- it seems the new home security measures you installed have thrown a wrench in his plans- for the moment, at least (although your spare key is still missing)- but you’re not wholly convinced you’re safe, either.

And to be clear, it’s better to be that than sorry: You’ll check each and every cranny of your little flat if it means reclaiming your peace of mind.

Your life is a different story though, as of late; threatened yet not something quite as simple to take back. Living with bated breath is no way to exist- neither with the perpetual looks thrown over your shoulder on the short trek back from the bus, the seemingly harmless creaks at night hurling you whole feet from your bed.

Because of that fear, you can hardly even bear to look down at the tiny paper in your hand to read it.

I loved that outfit on you yesterday babe. Can you blame me for taking a little from your wardrobe? ♡

Strangely, though, your drawer is just as you left it when you slide it from its framework almost fast enough to pop its screws, fearing the worst.

Clothes- your tee shirts, blouses for work and lacy bras, pencil skirts- fling across your bed, yet nothing is… amiss.

That outfit from yesterday.

With a gasp, you twist around to look at your hamper, and-

Sure enough, the lid is open.

✦

“-get a few new ones a week. Gets hard to keep up with ‘em all. All the personalities and quirks- a lot of them won’t even eat their kibble unless you look the other way.”

The cold brick walls and all the sounds bouncing off them (grunts, woofs, and nails against tile) become humdrum as the worker, waving a hand as he talks- rants, really- leads you through the pound.

The fluorescence lighting the place flares, whirs overhead. Everything about the setting is harsh. Obviously, you’re in no danger- but as you trail alongside him, you feel a sense of foreboding in your gut all the same. Like you’re walking into a dungeon.

The colorless walls swallowing up most of your vision make that silly threat seem an ounce realer.

You swallow, head on a swivel- yet not for fear, but sympathy as you pass an assortment of fenced-off pets. Some track you with a snarl. Some with eyes that plead. Still, they all share the undeniable tinge of distrust.

What an awful place, you think to yourself.

…But coming here had a purpose.

Your heels clip against the scratched floor and echo in rounds, a certain emptiness existing around you that seems misaligned with all the noise and sights.

Dogs in their cages— some upfront, teething at the metal, others: cowed to their corners, lying on thin blankets not quite as worse for wear.

To sum it up- creatures sapped of will. Defeated in life.

A distinct sorrow weighs in your chest, even as the employee happily drones on, a half-eaten tuna sandwich in one hand (the other: gesturing emphatically), hardly paying you any attention. To be fair, you’re giving him very little as well.

“-I mean, some don’t even eat at all. Picky things.”

Picky? You question quietly. Or without hunger? Their appetite for cheap, bagged kibble robbed right along with their appetite for life.

Your nails dent into your palm as you clench it.

It’s hard to get a word in edgewise as the man chatters away, but you manage to pile down your need to be polite for long enough to get in a:

Hey, excuse me, I asked what kind of dog you’d recommend for prot—

Clack, clack… Clack.

You come to a pause, dead-center in the walkway. The dull rhythm of his shoes remains where yours doesn’t.

“Heh. We got one a couple of months back who thinks this place is his own damn gourmet restaur-“

When he notices you’re not arm-to-arm, he, too, stops.

“Ma’am?” He turns.

“That one,” you breathe, just vaguely registering as the worker sidles up to you and glances at the cage you approach. The glint in your eye wins his interest.

For once since you entered the building, he shuts his mouth.

When he looks at ‘that one’ in question— a silver shock of fur, immersed in a shadow against the far wall— his eyes almost bulge from his skull.

A sharp laugh.

“Ah, little lady. Don’t wanna bite off more than you can chew, now. See-“

As he falls back into drivel (albeit, you lend an ear, curious now), you eye the pooch.

He looks a little wilder than the rest, a little more weathered, tucked to the corner of his cage but not quite ‘cowering’- no, he’s a touch too big and threatening for it to seem that way. More like… brooding.

…Yet you wonder all the same if that’s what he feels, too. Scared like most if not all of the others.

Your chest stirs again with that wisp of sadness.

If you could, you’d clip their collars to a leash and walk them all home, cramming them into your apartment with no thought and all heart. For reasons- countless reasons (having to do with your tiny home and even tinier wallet)- that’s not possible.

In a place as cold and unfortunate as this, he’d have every reason to be frightened, you think, but when your eyes soften with pity at him, his own narrow.

Thoughtfully, you blink.

As the worker rattles off his minor crimes around the playpen- and the hole he eats through their budget, what with his size- you can’t help but marvel at him.

Concerningly massive. With thick, silvery fur matted in certain areas, patchy with scars in others, and eyes that glow an unnatural shade of red- you can wholeheartedly say you’ve never seen the breed before. Less dog-like and more wolfish.

It warrants a raise of the brow, just what he’s doing here. Did he have an owner before? Was he abandoned by them? Or… was he just pulled from the street?

And if so, how many elephant-sized tranquilizer darts did it take to haul him here?

“So,” he says, stuffing his hand in his pockets, “Honestly, Ma’am, he’s probably not what you’re lookin’ for.” Giving your clacking heels and airy sundress a once-over, he sighs.

“We do have a Samoyed though- he was brought in just yesterday. Super playful. Great personality. Domesticated. He definitely won’t be here for long. Uh… this one here, though,” he snickers. “He’s unpredictable at the best of times. Growls when ya feed him- then growls some more ‘cause he’s still hungry... tsk,” he glances down at his hand, then. Evidently, there’s no mark there, but you think he’s imagining one that could’ve been.

“He’s on the older side, too. Can’t teach him any new tricks. And… big, as you can see. With his temperament, he’d probably tear a hole in your apartment. You, uh, you got an apartment, you said-?”

Right now, you should be thankful for all his advice- at the very least, relieved his chatter has become more meaningful, relaying all the pooch’s unruly habits. Yet you tune it all out, slightly cocking your head at the beast dog- a movement that, if you’re not imagining things, his scruffy one mirrors.

“He’s…”

“Yep. Like I said-“

“Perfect,” you breathe, falling to a crouch.

The man beside you coughs on his own spit. “What-? Uh, little lady, I seriously don’t think— hey, watch the hands! Don’t stick ‘em through!”

“-How much?”

You manage to pry your gaze from the ominous thing tucked a number of feet into his prison, cloaked and out of the light, to look up at the man. For all of the warnings and, really, defamation made against the animal— to his defense, he doesn’t lunge. Bark. Claw at the bars or slip his snout through to bite the harmless hand you extend in the space there.

No. With a lift of his whiskers, he watches.

Tuna-sandwich blinks. Eyes widening to twice their original size before he scrubs the lower half of his face.

Eventually, he shrugs. Takes a moment to process it.

As he does, you await the price with a hand already dipping inside your purse. I mean, you hope not to spend a small fortune during this outing- but it’s also an investment worth your while. There’s no saying when your stalker will show his face again. If tomorrow he’ll be waiting under your bed or in your closet for your return- hell, right now, the hackles on your neck are raised as if he could be lurking still.

A word relieves you of worries for naught.

“Nothing.”

…Wait- No, that can’t be right. Nothing? The- your future good boy is worth nothing?

“E-Excuse me?”

He sighs, exasperated. “You’d be doing us a favor,” is all he gives as an explanation. “You can have him for free.”

Dumbfounded, snapping your head back to the cage, you’re met with two crimson eyes that look almost hellish as they catch in the shifting fluorescence- and a pass of surprise on its face that appears almost… human.

“But, are you-“

“Haaaaah. Maybe it’s for the better. You’re like his savior, you know,” he comments, sparing a rather indifferent glance to the animal, “he oughta be thankful for you coming in here.”

And there, fucking again- like a blade wedged between your ribs and twisting—

“Too much longer and we would’a had to put him down.”

A squeeze of your heart.

Jaw fluttering shut, that morsel of information wipes the entirety of your hesitance out. Belatedly, you nod, perching your bag above your hip once more, a sense of determination smoothing out your features.

“When can we get him out of this cage?”

You ask without looking his way.

The sound of keys jingling on a ring has the silver-furred creature perking his left ear ever so slightly- a movement you track with curiosity as the beast’s chest swells in. It’s like he understands. Maybe he does. Maybe he’s seen countless people just like you filter in and out, pass him by, and ultimately land on a different pet to jailbreak take home.

“I can get you sorted right now,” he quips, helpful, “Just… You might wanna back up.”

Weirdly enough- and despite knowing you really should be cautious with a veritable beast from the local shelter, scarred to no end and skulking- all the tiptoeing around him is endearing in its own right.

He’s a good boy, you’re sure of it. Misunderstood, probably, like the rest of the poor, trembling things here— just in need of a nice, loving home and maybe a scritch or two behind the ear. And you’re positive, if nothing else, he’ll do plenty a good job at keeping your stalker at bay.

It takes a handful of minutes to loop the rope (not leash: rope) around his neck- yet the worker treats it as a pleasant surprise, muttering something about how he’s just a whit more cooperative today.

“Thank you,” you chime a bit breathlessly. Sure, your main goal in coming here was to find a suitable guard dog, but you can’t deny the excitement that flutters within as the gate closes to a now-empty cage, your new pet springing free.

Anticipation thrums in your chest as you eagerly accept the rope from him- “careful,” a snigger- and—

The ground beneath you all but gives way.

“Oh, sir- one more thing! What’s his name!”

He stops for a moment to turn halfway over his shoulder. Long, overgrown nails skittering across the floor as the leash tugs harshly and you’re rapidly propelled out the front door, into sunlight.

However, you do catch him shrugging.

“No clue.”

✦

A number of days pass. Those days drag by with an eagerness to get to know each other that seems only one-sided- and a caution on his end that borders uncanniness.

You buy him a fluffy dog bed (the biggest you could find; he’s bigger still). Quality food, not the rubbish they fed him at the pound. And you give him your patience; small, gentle smiles that you’re not entirely sure an animal can understand— but when you offer out your hand for him to smell, a sign that you mean no harm, he growls and retreats to his corner. He chooses one part of your tiny apartment to hunker down in and outright glares when you get too close.

This is your house.

This… was your house. Maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. As a week moves on, you concede to your bedroom or the sofa and watch him with resignation as he watches you back- and contemplate if you made the right choice.

Does he seriously hate you that bad? How can you make him understand that you don’t harbor any bad intentions for him-? I mean, aren’t animals supposed to have that preternatural kind of instinct anyway? to spot malice?

What is he spotting in you?

Curled up on the couch, you hang your hand off the arm and release the new brush you’d bought days ago. It’s seeming more and more like a useless purchase, yet after countless attempts to bathe and brush him- all for naught- it’s only now starting to settle.

Work was long. That one coworker was grating on your nerves more than usual and you could’ve sworn you heard a second pair of footfalls trailing yours after the bus back- but you can only look over your shoulder so many times without attracting the attention of people who start to wonder if you’re batshit crazy.

But you're not crazy. That- That psychopath is, and his countless notes and uninvited visits to your apartment while you’re gone are all proofs of that.

But that’s changed, now. If your dog hates you, he’ll hate an intruder even more.

You sigh, holding your head in your hands as you lean forward. Like a flower wilted, folded in on itself, too heavy with its withering to support its own weight. You rub your temples when you grudgingly glance up to the wolf-sized beast sulking in the corner.

He stares, of course; buttery light twinkling in imposing, ruby eyes in a way that almost makes him seem tame. Mellow.

Not quite.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to dislike him, or regret taking him off the pound’s hands— for all his stubbornness, the hostility he barely conceals, you know all too well that fear manifests itself in strange ways. Like when you almost snarled at your deskmate today for leaning over your shoulder again to review your work- the proximity too startling to handle. You’re irate. On alert. Scared. And it’s making you do unreasonable things as a way to calcify your soft skin into a protective shell. You start to think that you must be hard: the climate calls for it.

The mutt that broods behind your armchair is the picture of ominous- big and bad and threatening long before his lip even curls in warning. Everything about him screams see, look at my scars- my sharp teeth and nails. Don’t touch me. Don’t hurt me.

Your heart stirs.

Tiredly, you offer a small smile. “You are perfect, you know,” folding your leg over the other as you pat the open space of the couch beside you. It can fit four to six people if they cram together, but you know he’d take up the three cushions beside you if he sprawled out entirely.

He regards you with a microscopic flick of his ears. “Even if you don’t like me, that doesn’t change what I think about you. If you just let me give you a bath… I’ll let you sit on the couch, deal? I’m sure it’ll be comfier than what you got now,” you offer, gesturing harmlessly to the dog bed that lays unused by the table— for this reason or that, perhaps just as a way to show you he’s completely rejecting you, he’s avoided it.

Yes, he’s just a tatterdamelion, forgotten animal, operating out of instinct and whatever feels right.

Yes, you still had to mask your hurt over it.

You sigh. “I mean, I haven’t even thought of a name for you yet. And I’m sorry, I just…” Trailing off, you give your head a small shake and stand to your feet. In your mind, with no small amount of discontent, you realize you’ve reached a watershed here— one that separates your old, normal life from a sense of great uncertainty that rests on the horizon.

And you’re terribly concerned. And tired. But God forbid you start venting to a dog about it.

“Nevermind. Goodnight, boy,” you wave your doubts off dismissively, deliberately leaving the lamplight on lest he get scared in the dark. Sometimes, you think you see eyes staring back in it, too, so you put no judgement on him.

Pattering with heavy, sock-clad feet down the hall, “Sleep tight. Just tell me if you hear anything at the door-“

A labored sigh.

Nails clacking behind you— and for one awful second you fear the worst: You’ve turned your back to a beast.

Your breath hitches with the realization, yet as you swiftly spin around- half prepared to bolt or at the very least shield your head with your vulnerable, just as fleshy arms- you’re mistaken.

There, he stands, as a massive silhouette against the living room light angling into the narrow, dim hall. He’s like a bull in a china shop- monstrous, sharp claws etching lines into the lacquer of the maple wood floor, his tail sending fur gusting behind him as it falls. You become clear of two things, then:

One) you must sweep, and soon. And two)

He’s tilting his head- in an uncannily shrewd way- towards the ajar bathroom door beside you, and as he noses it open and stares at you, it’s with expectance.

Oh, and then three—

When you don’t respond right away, he steps around you and impatiently nudges you in- headstrong as ever- through the bathroom door with a throaty huff.

✦

He smells of strawberry shortcake. Vastly sweeter than what he really is, you think with a wry but endeared smile, when you extend a slow, ever-cautious hand to pet.

To your surprise, he lets you.

Call it a truce between you both. A comfier place for him to crash at for a little more peace of mind on your end.

With all the dirt and dried muck lathered out from his coat (it took an hour or so, and patience- as he flung water and stubbornly tried to readjust in the small tub- lots of it), you’re given the chance to finally see the beauty of his breed.

Chalky white fur, soft as the cashmere sweater stowed in your closet on standby for the chilly autumn weeks ahead. His hair is long, perhaps overdue for a trim- not that you’re deluded enough to believe he’d allow a groomer anywhere near him- and easily covers most of the scarring underneath.

Convincing him it was safe to let you clip his nails was an even harder task than getting him in the bath- but he… cooperated. In a looser sense of the word.

None of your limbs are missing. That’s a small miracle in itself. You’re thankful for the little breakthroughs with your new pet, even if it feels like you’re walking uphill all the while.

He hops up on the sofa beside you. True to your word, you allow it, the springs dipping beneath you both as he settles.

If the couch fell through the floor and onto the one below in a mist of crumbled drywall, you’d have no right to be surprised. None at all.

Trying not to show a fraction of your joy as he sets his head on your lap lest that deter him, you bite back a grin and rest a hand on his back. You avoid needless contact with his head- you get the feeling that’s a iffier place for him. You’d respect it, of course. Your show of patience has been nothing less than outstanding in the past week. Now that you’re finally making headway with him (and yes— his letting you bathe and sit with him is headway), you’re encouraged.

Besides…

Unpredictable. The forbidding advice of the shelter employee rings in your head.

Ahem.

It’s late.

Tomorrow, you’ve another long day of work and second-guessing your surroundings and the people in them. Whether or not you’ll be attacked in your own home by your persistent ex-boyfriend who couldn’t stop meddling with your life even if it meant saving his own.

The doubt, momentarily, is pushed to the back burner.

You smooth your hands through his velvety fur. A strange layer of peace drapes itself over you, warming your chest like a fleece as his back rises and falls, your quiet breaths punctuating his own heaving ones.

“You’re a good boy, you know,” you murmur contentedly as you lay your head back and drift off. A crimson set of eyes regards you carefully, peering up through fine, snowy lashes.

From the barrel of his chest, he lets out a deep rumble like he understands. You know he doesn’t.

Half awake, you weave your fingers along him, “You are. You are a good boy,” as if it’s come as an epiphany to you- made realer as it’s spoken.

Before you let sleep take you entirely, you murmur with a ghost of a grin, teasing despite knowing it’s ridiculous because your words aren’t coherent to him- just a swooning, soft sound to bitten ears—

“Hey… I could tell you didn’t really like Cookie, or Sweetie, or Dragonfruit, but… what about…”

A moment passes. Barely, you register his snout lifting from your thigh.

“Sylus.”

Before dozing off, you’re fairly certain- for his sake- you’d left the lamp on that night.

…But when you wake the next morning to your alarm blaring in the room over, all that lights the living space is the sun streaming through the blinds.

✦

You blink and autumn is in full throttle.

You blink and you’re trading your thin sleep shorts out for pajama pants and slippers- layering your work blouses with wooly cardigans.

Days leap over one another like cards of a rolodex— yours, on your cubicle desk: filled with doodles of the unruly pooch waiting at home for you. Idling over him is all that you can do to ease your mind as anxiety gnaws through.

You worry for him when he’s home alone. Not because you heed the warnings you were once given- ‘he’ll tear a hole in your walls’- but because you care for him, and with that brings the inexplicable want to see him as soon as possible.

Of course, he can’t speak, but he shows in his own way that he misses you too when you’re gone.

Once your shift ends, you do as you did the day before. You quickly take the jacket off your wheely chair and gather your things, waving to the select few coworkers who don’t make you want to rip your hair from the root.

Perhaps if you’re quick enough, you’ll even make it off the bus, to your complex, before the sun sets. You appreciate fall for its colors. Not for the darkness it brings far too early to be comfortable with.

Every alley appears with teeth, in those eerily quiet moments when you make the short trek back home. Cars purr beside you on the congested roads, and despite cursing traffic on the ride to your stop, you’re grateful for it now.

At least more people are out; potential buffers to stave off your crazy ex from putting his hands on you…

Potential witnesses if he does.

Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. Every evening you can’t help but wish you could just- take Sylus with you to work. But for so many reasons that’s just not possible.

Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you breathe out a fine mist and pick up the pace.

You can’t escape dusk from falling- but you can take advantage of the early moments of it right before night comes swinging.

You nervously glance up to the sky, a fiery swatch of orange sat under starry blue, and tell yourself it’s fine.

…It’s fine- and yet you swear on all things holy you can hear boots pacing behind yours—

A gasp. You turn around and get ready to rip your pepper pray from the scabbard that is your pocket- for naught. Emptiness greets you. Sneering and quiet. In the distance, deeper into the city, a car honks. Where you are now though, you’re more or less alone.

You wet your lip where it’s dented from biting. You turn around, and press back on.

It’s okay. You’re almost home. Just a bit further. Within ten minutes you’ll be crooning to your ‘puppy’ and itching behind his ear while he rigidly thumps his tail, closing his eyes indifferently as if he wasn’t hurrying to the door as soon as he heard the lock.

Yes, that’s right. In ten minutes- on the dot (you know because you’re toying with your watch to calm yourself)- you’ll be slipping off your jacket and refilling his water bowl, tossing him scraps as you prepare a nice steak dinner in celebration of your weekend commencing. The fancy wine you’ll pair with it is to help wash it all down and pretend you’re financially better off than you are. Not to help your nerves.

…Even Sylus, the creature who doesn’t understand you even if sometimes it seems he unexplainably does, would be hard-pressed to believe such a feeble lie.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your heels. A dull, monotonous rhythm against pavement, one you relish now because it fills the crisp, silent air.

Then-

Tap tap tap.

Your heels- “Hey baby, wait up- where ya going?”- with the sound of another and the bone-chilling revelation that every suspicion you had was grounded—

You don’t even turn around. You don’t reason with, stick up the bird to, or even hastily shout a fuck off, creep, over your shoulder because you’re not sure you have the luxury to.

By the sounds of it, he’s already close.

“Oh no you don’t. Come on, baby, just let me fuckin’ talk to you!”

-Closer and gaining still.

Fear rattles through you. It goes from zero to one hundred in a breath- yet how to breathe becomes a distant memory as your lungs still. The pulse in your throat drums, and suddenly your cardigan isn’t enough to save you from the ice eating you from the inside out- a cold sweat already forming at your nape.

You’re in such a panic you even forget about the spray in your pocket- the assortment of makeshift blades (keys, pens that grow knives when you click them) tucked in your purse. You have a small arsenal in there. Yet your mind spins.

“Stop-! I haven’t even been able to visit you lately because of that fucking asshole- since when you’d get a new boyfriend, baby? Do you really not care about me anymore? I just wanna talk!”

No. No no no- and new boyfriend? What-? All thought is dashed from your brain, his hollers becoming static. No, just ignore him, it doesn’t matter what nonsense he spouts to try and get you back- you won’t so much as glance behind you. After all he’s done to hurt and twist and outright disgrace you and your home, you don’t think he deserves it.

You break into a sprint. The concrete path pushes beneath you. You feel like you’re running in a dream, you’re so terrified- but you do run. You run like hell. You run like a girl.

You fiddle for the key in your purse, shaking as the door opens and you slam it behind you. His hand almost gets stuck in it, the knob jiggling loudly just a millisecond after you lock it.

As the reality of what could’ve been settles, you’re horrified. Cold in the face.

Sylus is there, leaping over to reach you. You wonder if the fury you catch in his wide ruby eyes is your imagination or reality; if he has the inexplicable knowing- based on your frazzled state or the noise- that something is terribly wrong.

“Sylus-“

You breathe with relief, but you don’t linger. You skitter past to the kitchen for a weapon- a real, proper one. A snarl rips from his throat as you leave him behind you, shouts sounding in the hallway behind your door. He barks at it. Ferocious and lupine. Surely not the make of a dog, of a pet meant for four walls and a roof— no, it’s a separate beast entirely.

Hostile, unpredictable, growly- dangerous. Oh, you’ve no choice but to hope all the labels on his package are true. That he’ll rip your ex-boyfriend a new one if he finds a way in.

Hyperventilating, limbs like jelly, you stagger over. In the short span of time it takes you to turn out the kitchen and down the corridor, you contemplate either opening the door and saying go boy, go— or simply staying back to ‘defend.’

You turn the corner and blanche.

Someone’s in your house- not the creeping, painfully familiar face, however, no- and he’s naked.

And then, everything you’d been working so hard to build with your froward pet over the months, the foundation of trust and patience, the hard-earned truce made between you both… As red eyes flash at you in warning, a hand taking the shaking knife from your own before he opens the door— it all shifts.

The bottom falls through.

The man opens the door, and perhaps you should be thankful that he takes the squabble outside because you’re sure that the blood spraying from your ex-boyfriend’s nose as it breaks would be impossible to scrub from your walls.

✦

“Relax,” he grouses with a tsk, “I’m not gonna bite.”

With split knuckles, a long leg crossed over the other where he sits on your couch, canines just a little too sharp as they catch in the lamplight- that’s hard to believe.

The blade he’d taken from your hands lies on the cushion beside him, and while you don’t make a grab for it, you think he sees the way you eye it- and the knife block in the kitchen- as you clench your fist to keep yourself from fainting while you gawk.

“Y-You’re not my dog.”

One of his brows lifts with amusement- or challenge, perhaps- as you deny the truth laid out before you. It’s impossible. Of course it’s impossible. He-

That can’t be Sylus.

For a moment you believe he’ll agree. Nod his head and say, no, I’m not your dog- I’m a person; because that’s certainly how he looks. But he doesn’t.

“I simply changed forms,” he explains. “Not who I am to you.”

With nothing else to say- no real rebuttal- you can only flounder. “N-No. You’re not Sylus.”

That pulls a soft huff from him, “Oh, kitten,” he grins a tenuous grin, “I’m wounded. And here I thought your kindness had no takebacks. You gave me that name, didn’t you? Sylus.” He sighs, a heavy, affected sound- like this is no more than a theater play to him as he adjusts on your sofa.

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for something else, then… Is Dragonfruit still up for grabs?”

D-Dragonfruit? How does he…

The way he looks at you then, with a lift of his chin as he angles his brow in provocation, a smirk only touching half his mouth- makes you freeze. The little hairs on your nape rise.

…Yet he’s just as scarred as your pet, with the silver hair and the gemstone eyes— massive, over six foot tall and muscular- and the air about him is… familiar. Too much to be comfortable with.

“Y-You’re not-“

Before you can splutter out another denial, he sighs and drops the bravado. He spares the weapon beside him a dismissive glance, stretching one arm across the back of the couch.

“Look, if you don’t believe me, that’s your choice. I won’t try to convince you,” he states, “I’ll just let my actions speak for themselves in the course of the next few days.”

…What? The next few days? Does he plan to stay? What- no. No no no! This mysterious, albeit helpful stranger (helpful in the way that he shook your persistent ex from your doorstep- through violent means, of course) can’t seriously think you’ll just let him crash at your place after feeding you such a ridiculous lie. He’s not your dog. He’s- he’s not some werewolf that can shapeshift on a whim- those only exist in fairytales and teenage romance novels.

Not in your tiny apartment.

“N-No. You- you’re crazy. You have to leave. You have to! I’ll- I’ll call the cops!”

Not-Sylus seems unfazed. Perhaps even a little offended at your bluffing: the vehemence is there. But the certainty is not.

Sure, the department wasn’t having your stalker drama- but an intrusion you’re actually witnessing like this can’t be easily ignored. If your crappy ex ends up snitching (you doubt it, what with his involvement)- all the more evidence, right?

He all but rolls his eyes, saying like it’s obvious, perhaps even with a mite of amusement, “I’m on your side, kitten. Don’t get all…” he looks you up and down, and you hate the flutter of your heart that’s more than just fearful— it’s self-conscious. “Hissy now.”

You punch out a scoff of disbelief. “You’re some stranger in my house! Look- I appreciate what you did, okay? I really do,” you start. You have to pause in between to take a breath because God knows you mean the words you say- you’re just inwardly afraid that the fix was only quick, not permanent, and with the sudden disappearance of your dog? Good luck protecting yourself now. Fuck, you don’t even know where he went- maybe he booked it out through the door when you were too distracted by the chaos to notice.

But then… why the hell would he leave? He- He’s never done that until now!

You rub your face and stare at him. The fear lends itself to a distant echo the more you realize you’re no longer in immediate danger. The guy is an unwelcome (and flashy, literally) intruder, yes, one your pooch would waste no time in maiming, but he’s not an active threat... You just have to figure out how to get him to leave.

“But my dog is a dog. Not a human. Not… you.” That you even have to say it out loud is ridiculous.

Even if, the longer you stare, the more you begin to believe it.

The scarred skin, the unmistakable, red eyes, and the somewhat bitten ears- his body weathered from what you suspect to be years of tussling in underground fights (evidently: winning them, not without the cost though)…

And that arrogant little air he carries with him, the one that first endeared you so.

Sylus, it all says.

But no. No- this is insane. Months of being stalked and living like a bug under a microscope have made you worse for wear. Impaired your judgment.

He draws you back to the present with his rumbling voice. “Your dog is more than just some animal,” he huffs. “Don’t tell me after all you’ve experienced with the stalker that you’re… frightened of this side of me? Really? Of all things?” His chuckle is as rich as it is short as he shakes his head.

Frightened? No… that becomes a more distant word. You’re more so stunned than anything else right now as the pieces start to fall in alignment with each other.

“Well, how about this,” he offers at your silence, waving his hand. “Let the week pass. By the end of it, you can decide for yourself if I’m real or truly just a figment of your imagination, sweetheart… You…” he lowers his gaze, then. Uncertain, almost.

“You can even decide if you want me to stay.”

He rubs nothing between his fingers, glancing up again with a pointed brow. “Deal?”

And if you say no? If, on the off chance you’re wrong and you kick him right back to the curb- to a sorry life of abandonment and bloody illegal brawls and God knows what else?

Your mouth wavers. “I- I don’t believe it.”

You do believe it. But it’s crazy.

He almost snorts. “You’d better start. But with that pest taken care of now… I think you’ll catch on quite fast,” he grins. “I’m here for you, kitten. Isn’t that what you wanted me for? Protection? Don’t tell me once I serve my use you’ll throw me out?” He laughs. But then he sighs right after, pursing his lips and looking down to his lap where he makes no effort to adjust the thin blanket that covers his nakedness as it nearly slips.

Headstrong. Cocksure. Bored with his surroundings in a way only mature folk really tend to be. The sage advice of that employee flashes in your mind— ‘he’s on the older side, so naturally he’s a bit grumpy, snippy’; really, you shouldn’t gasp at his temperament but with your current situation it’s a little hard not to when he clips out-

“So? Do we have a deal or not?”

And, well, what’s the harm in giving him your couch for one night?

Or several.

✦

A wintry chill pricks up your neck. Along your arms. Down your limbs where they bundle beneath the covers- to the tips of your toes as you respond with a shiver.

It rattles you in tandem with pleasure.

Upon waking, a few things blitz through your mind too fast to catch. For one, you’ve woken before your alarm- meaning you’ll be miserable in the minutes or hours of consciousness before it actually does go off. Secondly, the bed feels heavier.

…As do your bones.

Third— Sylus is not on the couch like he’s been for the past few months. He’s with you, in the comfort of your own bed, and as the wooly blanket slips down your upper half- leaving you to the cold air- it reveals to you a head between your thighs.

Pried open. One held up for a soft kiss while the other is pinned down— both wet. Sticky with- with you.

You gasp. “Sylus-“

You’ve no time to even rub the sleep from your eyes, big weathered hands anchoring you in place, because he lifts his head from his plate for a millisecond when you try to stop him and does something he hasn’t for months.

He snarls.

“Quiet. I’m eating.”

Protective. Territorial. That isn’t your pussy he eats from, lapping fervently at it as if it wasn’t just a number of hours ago you were hand-feeding him steak cubes from the cutting tray— no, it’s his.

He blocks your hand from interfering when it slips beneath the cover. So when that doesn’t work, you attempt to clamp your legs shut (quavering, you realize, on either side of his lupine face). All your efforts- bogged by sleep and the simple fact that he was leagues stronger- are for naught.

‘Good try’, his eyes seem to tease, though, glittering devilishly at you as his tongue flicks your clit. And then, when you hesitantly lie back and rest a hand in his hair- ‘that’s it, kitten.’

“Good girl,” he practically purrs.

He’s got a big appetite. You’ve known that.

Not as much as you do right now.

“Sylus, wait wait wait,” you moan. Life has thrown so much your way, especially in the past year or so, but you never went belly-up for it. You fought and resisted and squared up.

But right now, half of you almost wants to take him lying down- let him take his fill of you and then pin you down to take some more. Let him have his way with you, whatever that may entail.

But you- You have work tomorrow, and- and responsibilities—

“Hush,” he goes, voice muffled, having some preternatural ability to tell just what you’re thinking. He drifts a hand up your belly to splay over the valley of your breast. Your heart thumps beneath his callous palm like a metronome. Like a ticking clock, counting down the seconds or hours before you need to get up and get ready. Start a day in which you leave home, leave Sylus, and spend the rest of it longing to get back.

“Just take the day off.”

Grudgingly, you lie your head back. It’s… not a great idea, but as your rationale clouds, it seems like your best one.

“O-Okay.”

As a hot, long tongue stripes up your pussy and then his other hand, the one he used to comfort you in his own weird way, slinks downward again- the ceiling becomes too boring to bear.

So you glance down.

He’s handsome as all get out. Really, a couple months ago when he first appeared to you as a human, that was all you could think as days passed and you became grossly aware that you were sharing a confined space with a man. That you had been all along— and your prancing around the apartment half-naked was just one of the countless spectacles he’d seen.

He never pounced, though. Never lunged. Never bit you like a dog or hurt you like a man, even when every bit of his crude exterior screamed hazardous. He was a good boy. And you don’t care what form he takes; he took you as you are, didn’t he? When you were scared of your own shadow and a little snippy because of it. He let you hold the leash to his heart and snarled at anything that came too close- protected you against your piece of crap ex without prompting. Turned your fear into a mellow thing.

Warmth prods at your heart. Loosens your legs up where they clench around his head.

That day at the pound turns in your memory like a spindle.

You could’ve lost him. He- He could’ve been gone forever hadn’t you showed.

…But you did show. For the shitty time you’d been having, Sylus was your one silver lining. You were there for each other as a shoulder to lean on and a hand to hold.

Your fingers tug gently on his scalp. Fruity shampoo breathes out from the blanket when you flip it over his head to allow him better access. Nerves eat you from the inside out. You’ve seen the looks, the hungering glances and felt the fingertips that linger in seemingly innocent touches:

Finally experiencing the culmination of his quiet longing is a whole different game, though.

Slurps ring out from your thighs. Your sighing, candied words- spoken in that ridiculous tone reserved only for him- make his ears perk atop his head.

“Good boy,” you breathe. “Y-You’re perfect.”

He rewards your obedience with a finger, thick and delightful. You gasp and arch your back into his hands- or, his one hand- a throaty moan rippling from his open mouth. The several little muscles in his face go lax when you coyly guide him deeper into your cunt and he melts.

“You taste delicious,” he whispers. “Sweet girl. I can-“ a deep, shivering inhale. Not from you- from him. “I can smell how much you want it…. You’re soaked.”

You mewl his name and almost reach full relaxation ‘til you glance back down and, with the covers off, spot where his other hand disappears. He’s naked- not in the boxer briefs and sweatpants you’d bid him goodnight in- and holds his fat, upright cock in his hand.

And his hand is big. Can dwarf every part of you with its hold.

His cock is somehow bigger.

Your heart leaps from your chest as he eyes you. He’s daunting. Every bit intimidating and then some- especially as you realize he won’t be just content with kitten licking your pussy, delicious as it is, and ending the intimate moment right afterward.

Dogs will always take the bowl if you slide them one: and then look to you later for seconds.

Point is- he’s insatiable.

You shiver as raunchy images flash in your brain— rough fingers pinning back your thighs as he rams inside you, setting a relentless pace as he bites and sucks and claims.

In your imagination, he doesn’t pull out when he comes.

…What really takes your breath is the engorged knot at the base of him, though, flushed an impatient red. Fattening by the second.

Cum- not pre- dribbles from the tip. For how long he’s been at this, you don’t know.

“Sylus-!” You mean to shriek it, but you can only manage a whispering scream. “Wait, wait, wait! what do you have in your hand-!“

A grin plays at his lips. Crooked, recalcitrant.

Challenging.

He’s hardly lucid, what with the delicious heat emanating from the slick lips he stuffs a second finger in, to acknowledge your question, so it’s surprising when he pulls back a centimeter to make an answer. Lust grips him tight— the need to fuck and take and mount— but that concerned, cute little bump in your brow is one he wants to smooth.

It’s the least he can do.

“Take a guess,” he sussurates, licking slowly up your inner thigh. Torturing you. “It’ll be in yours soon though, kitten, so get ready.”

Your eyes bulge from your skull.

His response: a low chuckle paired with a moan.

From that point on, even as he suckles expertly at your puffy clit, working you to a sniveling mess as you scream on his fingers, you’re focused entirely on what he’s doing below the blanket. He palms at himself- it’s all he can do to relieve the ache as he wrestles with his fraying self-control- massaging his balls and knot as they throb.

When he withdraws his digits from you, eyes drooping at the cream coating his knuckles before fluttering back at the taste of it— you lie back down and gulp.

Taking work off today is a good idea. You can already think of a few excuses. Not being able to walk properly is one of them. Being unable to get out of bed… Feeling so sore and feverish after he’s fucked you into pyrexia that you can’t even move an inch without being reminded of it.

He straightens. The cover slips off him entirely and he’s tall. Hulking. Painting you in his shadow- but the moonlight brings out the sheer hunger on his face, and you alight with warmth all over again.

You hope he’s primed you. You pray he’s done good to prepare you for what’s to come. Because oh, it’s coming. You know that.

“Now,” he heaves, dragging your legs either side of him as he kneels. You can tell he’s not well off, trying to muster a cocksure grin but failing as he perspires at the temple. “To the good part.”

You frown at that, almost- a pang of hurt weaving through the haze of desire and the smell of your musk on his fingers as he licks them clean again, ever thorough. He notes the flicker of your brow with a thoughtful pause and then a sigh, shaking his head as he grabs your jaw and angles his front down.

He chuckles, and you experience a singular flash of softness when he goes, “Oh, so sensitive… Don’t pout. I thoroughly enjoyed the opening too, kitten.”

You’re shaking. Insides molten with the pure want for him to just- to just do something already. There’s no opportunity to come down from your high because you feel his cock bob against your tummy as he sets himself up, and you burn anew.

Oh, you love him. You really do. He’s endearing in all the places he shouldn’t be. He’s charming and strong and willing to fight for you. So you don’t care if he’s a little old and slow on the uptake when it comes to new tricks- territorial and intimidating. He’s yours.

Eyes half open, you lift your hands to trail from his pecs to his firm, scarred belly. With a hiss, he trembles. Catches your wrists and tuts at you a second later, saying, “It’s better to keep those at your side. Once you get me going, I won’t be easy to stop.”

And you’d be half tempted to tease him some more, you know, but fuck if he isn’t massive. And fuck if you aren’t a little scared for it.

So you clutch the sheets as he drives himself inside with a grunt, and settle below him. You trust he’ll take care of you.

The entrance is, at first, surprisingly smooth, what with the natural lube you’ve provided for him. You let him lift your ass and bend you into a bow-shaped thing so he can hit deeper- and that’s when there’s some turbulence.

Your fingers curl into the cotton fabric. You brace and wait for the sting to subside. When you realize your eyes are clamped shut, though, you open them to see his expression and pall at the sight of him.

He’s gorgeous. Even when he looks like he’s ready to sneeze- brow scrunched and jaw slack as he dragoons himself inside, tormentingly slow- he’s nothing less than charming through your lens. But you’re thankful for the time he gives you to adjust because you need it.

Frankly, if he intends to put his knot inside— and he fucking won’t, there’s just no way— the walls of your pussy need the patience on his end.

For several seconds, Sylus does not breathe. You’re sizzling hot; when he eventually bottoms out, he can’t tell where he starts and you end- all he knows is that it’s gooey and warm and so fucking tight his balls throb. He deliquesces between your thighs. You welcome him, your body like a landing pad.

He supposes, right then, you’ve always been very hospitable.

Sylus curses. “Ngh, you’re tight... Loosen up,” he presses his forehead to yours and hisses out through his teeth. His eyes glitter like rhodolite in the dark. Reverent hands run down your side and clasp your hip. With your slick still coating his lips- tangy sweet, you find, as he presses them to yours- you realize he’s worshipful. The moonlight pouring in the blinds makes his silhouette glow a true blue.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, swiping over your bottom lip with his tongue. “Sweet, and soft. And a very good girl. I’ve got your back. You know that, don’t you?” Then, he draws his hips back and—

Your little bed judders. But the squeak that sounds out is yours as he ruts back inside and your labia brushes with his knot.

He won’t put it inside. He won’t. You’re sure of it. Mutts only do that when they’re mating. Mutts only do that. Sylus is- is so much more than that, and….

“Mmm,” an uncontrollable moan escapes you as he begins to move, like really move, and your eyes roll.

With some difficulty, he continues. “You’re naive. Plucking something like me from its cage. But I admire your bravery, kitten, so— f- uck— let me just show you, hm? How far my loyalty goes?”

Void of words, you nod.

The reindeer-patterned bedsheets aren’t enough. Your hands leave them in favor of Sylus, grasping around his back so tight your fingertips can make out the raised scars there. Planes of muscle flexing with divots with every thrust forward.

Offhandedly, he hits that sweet spot inside you. Your nails dig in by accident, and you say his name, stringing out the syllables in a delightful, dizzying mewl.

The floodgates- they burst open. Something in him gives.

He rams forward, abandoning his restraint altogether as his furry, salt-and-peppered tail whacks the mattress beneath you. That fat swell below his cock teases at your sweltering hole with every pump inside, and Sylus burrows his nose into your sweaty neck to whimper.

You’ve never heard such a noise escape him before. Huffs, grumbles, long, exaggerated sighs he makes whenever he finds a nice spot to lay down (usually on you), as if he pays the rent around here— but never that.

He whines, words strained, “Think you can take my knot? Hah… Nod your head for me, kitten- because I don’t think that I can stop it. I can’t wait any longer. I need you to…” he shudders, “take it.”

One moment you’re nervously glancing down to monitor him- and the next he’s nudging your head back with his nose before crashing his lips to yours. Your eyes widen when he flips you over, presses his chest to your back, and thrusts inside with vigor.

With the new angle, you stretch around him with a mewl, but every bone in your body locks when his hips slam flush to your ass and—

His knot pops inside with a gasp.

Throwing your hands to the strong ones he latches around your midriff, you wail. He clings to you like a limpet, his thighs trembling behind yours as he moans endlessly in your ear. Pointed teeth graze at the nape of your neck. He doesn’t bite- but amidst the warp of pain and a pleasure so intense it gives you vertigo, you distantly realize that he probably wants to.

He holds himself off. Breath hitching as his pelvis claps into you. Euphoria rolls across him, shocks him like a static bolt, every fiber of his being awash with it as his jaw falls open and he succumbs to you.

When he comes, it’s so hard his ears ring.

The walls of your pussy become less hospitable, then, clenching around him so tight as you both cum that for a moment, he can’t even say a word to ease you. He aches inside you- you can feel it. The girth of him twitching as your heat swallows him up with a spasm. His knot takes all thought from your brain. Stuffed inside your poor hole, tumid and veiny.

You feel him coalesce with you, too. Eagerly rutting his seed inside (ensuring it sticks, you realize when he drops a finger to your folds, checking for leakage), releasing rope after rope of hot cum as you go limp and take it.

You offer up a choked mewl when he kisses at your spine, brushing your hair aside just to access your neck where he licks and sucks. You trust Sylus not to get carried away with a bite if he did, to lose out to what he’s been taught.

Evidently, he doesn’t trust himself.

Your fingers dig into his thick, scarred forearm and he sighs behind you- a long, feeble sound. He’s barely able to keep himself draped over you- let alone support your own position beneath him, what with the soup you’ve made of his brain- but he manages.

Silence sprawls out as you attempt to steady your breaths. All that comes in between it is the occasional, wet squelch and the gusting inhales he takes at the column of your neck.

“It… hurts. So good…” he hisses after several beats. Only marginally brought back to reality, you flutter your eyes open and offer a yip back. “You’re doing so well, though… Just-“ He twitches inside you, then, throbbing like a second pulse point, his cock undulating in your walls, greedily taking up all the space.

“Fuck. Stay still, sweet girl,” he grunts, harebrained. His eyes crinkle and close. “I want it all inside. Don’t wanna see so much as a drop escape that perfect, tight pussy. Hah- you hear me?”

“Y-Yes,” you quiver back. Speaking is too difficult, you realize a second later, shoving your open mouth into the pillow as you pant for air.

Yet, you can’t help but ask with a slur, “Sylus- when- when will it be over?”

He moans, right in your ear. Goosebumps run up your naked body- all that clothes you.

“It’s too big,” you cry.

“No,” he quips. “It’s just right.”

As if on cue, your cunt gives another squeeze around him, milking him for all he’s worth. In response, he bows his forehead into the crook your shoulder and jaw make to bury a whine, and your mind spins when you register his balls, hanging fat against your ass, lurching. And oh, you’re spilling, you can feel it, beginning to ooze profusely from your puffy lips even as he keeps it plugged; really, even if Sylus wanted to separate from you (he doesn’t), he couldn’t.

There’s nothing in him that wants the distance. The idea of self-autonomy. The idea of independence. No- he’s all yours.

“We’ll wait it out,” he breathes. Coasting a hand along your belly in an effort to placate you. He knows it can’t be easy for you. But the world— that stupid, irksome ex-boyfriend of yours— needs to understand where your heart belongs. There’s no better way to show that than to demonstrate it first with the body.

And you—

(Bitten by his branding kiss, supple skin covered with the divots of his teeth, your belly full of his veritable seed-)

Well. Nobody should look at you, he decides in his spirit right then, and come to any other conclusion but the one that you’re his.

Unmistakably, irrevocably, his.

“It’ll subside soon enough,” he soothes with a peck to your throat, a surprisingly chaste move. He loops his arms around your waist again and carefully- mindful not to exacerbate the heady ache- maneuvers on his side, pulling your back to his front. He whispers at your ear, “So long as you don’t move or stir me up, we’ll be fine.”

Yet, a set of canines brush at your jugular, and again- there’s that inkling, this time in better clarity, that passes your conscience. You know he wants to bite. To mark. To claim. You know it and have the vague idea of all it entails, yet he… won’t.

With a frown, cursing as you turn ever so slightly and his fat knot shifts inside you, you hazily meet his eyes.

His are practically glowing, laying heavy on you. Charting across your face the moment they make contact, observing every brief flicker of your expression to try and assign a feeling— happiness, he hopes, contentedness— to it. His lashes totter and you burn with shame when a lewd suck rings between your legs, his cock wet all the way down to the slight plush of his abdomen.

You don’t mean to pout, “why won’t you-“

“Not yet, Kitten,” he scolds. Trying to swallow down a pit of self-consciousness in your throat, you murmur, “What, do you not want me?” Sylus huffs as if offended. His eyes drag from your lips to your searching eyes.

“Really, kitten? …What, should I give you an equally stupid answer?”

Oh, you’d tug his tail if you had the luxury of moving right now-

“Of course I want you. Can’t you tell?” He sighs, then, burrowing his nose into your neck almost to hide. His ears droop along his head, donning a relaxed look.

“So. Did you like it..?”

“Y-Yeah…” you murmur, carefully looping a hand back to stroke behind his fuzzy ears. “But, I just… I thought you’d really do it, I thought you’d really tie us together-“

He chuckles richly. “We’re already tied together, kitten,” peppering another kiss below your jaw, licking appreciatively at the sweat that clings to soft skin. “I’ve belonged to you for some time now, haven’t I?”

Your heart skips a beat when you realize he’s right.

“I- I guess so. Yeah.”

“So no more whining,” he lifts his chin to sample your lips, this time- his knot still throbbing white-hot and insistently inside you (albeit the ache is lessening)- eyes lidded as he conveys his affections.

“I’ll do it when we’re both ready. When…” He pauses to swallow.

In that short frame of time before he next speaks, you’re drawn to all his scarring. The faded ligature marks around his neck, the seemingly permanent gnashes along his body (which was a touch too lean before you familiarized him with good food). The nip taken from one of the ears sat atop his silvery, mussed locks. In that moment, you don’t see the misshapen, loveless thing he was beaten into— but rather the softness he worked to regain for you.

“When I know it’s manageable.”

If he feels unsure of himself- whether he can remain… civil, for lack of a better word, amidst the fervent haze that a mark would bring about— then you suppose you could wait for a bit longer.

“Okay,” you murmur with a faint, understanding smile, caressing one half of his face dotingly. You tilt your head slightly to plant a firm, benevolent kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“But you’ll always be a good boy to me, okay? I trust you. I told you before- you’re perfect-“ Rather roughly, he noses your head back into the pillow, readjusting his iron hold around you as he grumbles into your hair.

“…Hush. Now close your eyes and go back to bed. I’ll tell you when it’s ready to pull out.”

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 ♡

#.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓆝 ｡𖦹°‧ aquarium library #omg. omg #this is amazingndkd #ab to binge read everything of urs op #trust

8K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

COLLARS ‘N LEASH

STARRING: caleb x reader

synopsis: you're injured and supposed to be resting but you just can't stop going out. so caleb finds a way to convince you to stay inside to let your injuries heal (it gets freaky).

warnings: porn with plot, use of collars, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy slapping, obscene use of hands, cum eating, sloppy wet marathon sex, multiple creampies, manhandling, squirting, spitting, pussydrunk!caleb, cockdrunk!reader, you two are just nasty freaks.

wc: 3,4k

a/n: i'm literally about to cumbust. caleb's got me feral these days. and he will never be beating the panty sniffer allegations!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

You believed it was a joke. Or some one of the many weirdly ominous things Caleb had a habit of saying to get a kick out of you. It must have been.

“What?” You blink, staring at his hands.

“Remember what I told you?” He asked, free hand slowly reaching up your thigh. “About that stray cat.”

You were fresh out the shower, skin still steaming from the heat of the water pelting your back. You have nothing on but a gown, and not one of the fluffy ones either. His eyes had been on you since you left the shower and he hasn’t bothered hiding his blushing.

“The one you put a collar on?” Your brows raise at the memory. He really was worried about that poor kitty. It was all injured and kept trying to run, so Caleb eventually put a collar with a bell on the cat so he’d know if it tried to go and be adventurous again.

Then it clicked. You had a minor injury on your leg from your last mission. A solo mission that was supposed to be an investigation had ended with you fighting at least six Wanderers throughout the night. Caleb made sure your superiors put you on break for at least two weeks (with Zayne’s medical support) to give you time to rest.

But being the stubborn person you are, you always found a way to leave your apartment to Caleb’s agitation. It got so bad that even he had to take leave from the Fleet to keep an eye on you— as if his usual methods didn’t already work.

It all makes sense. The fact that he’s in Linkon, the fact that you’ve been put on sick leave for two weeks, and the fact that he’s been watching you like a hawk especially since you try to go out.

The damn collars in his hands are to make you the cat in this situation.

“Are you serious?” You blink, trying to ignore the growing heat in your core. You couldn’t lie, it was hot.

One of the collars, you presume is yours, has a pretty red bow tied around its bell. The other has a leather leash attached to it. Almost like a leash for a dog.

“I don’t want you running off when you’re still recoverin’.” Caleb’s hand disappear into your silk robe, inching higher and higher up your thighs, just so damn close to your pussy. “And I don’t want you to get worried. So I shouldn’t leave you.”

His lips inch closer to your neck, hot breath ghost over your damn skin. This fucker—

“How about I test a little theory of mine?” The metallic jingles of the collars ring in your ears. His sunset eyes raise to your gaze with that stupidly handsome puppy look he gives you when he gets needy and desperate. “Can I put this collar on you?”

“You’re such a freak.” You hiss, watching his eyes flutter in plain as the fucking sky obviousness. You learned he had a thing for you being a little bit mean. Just a little. And he does everything he can to get on your nerves.

“So are you.” His hand finally reaches your soaking pussy and circles your entrance with a single finger. You deeply inhale feeling your walls clench on air. “Look at you, so wet. I think you want me to collar you up. So I always know where you are.”

Bold of him to talk. You can literally see the growing tent in his pants. He likes it just as much as you do.

His finger slowly dips into your pussy, pumping in and out with deliberate precision. He knows exactly what to do to set you off, turn you on, make you beg. And he is making things extra slow to get to you.

“Caleb.” You attempt to warn but he curls his finger right into that spongy pleasure spot that he knows drives you insane.

“Why would you wanna go out and about when you’re injured, pips?” He asks with concern in his eyes as if he isn’t torturing you with his finger. It’d be better if he put in another or two. Wet squelches travel right up to your ears to add to the injury. What a tease.

Your eyes gloss over with intense need. What a fucking—

“It’s almost like you want me to keep you close,” Another finger finally slips in, stretching you out deliciously. A heavenly moan escapes your lips, not that you were trying to hide it to begin with. “Keep a close eye on you and remind you that you’re better off restin’ here at home.”

His words quickly become white noise just from how his fingers turn you into horny mush. If there’s one thing your boyfriend has mastered, it’s driving you insane with his fingers alone. Now imagine what his cock does.

“Fuck.” You sigh, feeling your back arch to feel his fingers deeper inside you. And like the good boyfriend he is, he gives you exactly what you need— pushing his fingers deeper and deeper until his knuckles nudge your entrance. “And– oh, Caleb- what- what about you?”

“Hm?” His tongue darts out his mouth, deeply concentrated on how your pussy clenches around his fingers as fast as your pulse. The tent on his sweatpants start to darken from his leaking precum.

“There’s two… collars.” You say slowly or else his ministrations would bring you to a stutter. “If the bell one’s for me, what about the one with the leash?”

Caleb’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes following your gaze to the collars in his hand. “That one’s for me. You want me to stay close to take care of you, right? What better way to do that than to make sure I never leave your side?”

Your hand slowly travels down to grip his hardened cock, gently stroking it through the soaked fabric. Your finger danced around his tip just the way he liked it— slow and light, just to rile him up even more. You watch his eyes squeeze shut in a sore attempt to hold back his own lewd noises.

“So if I wear the collar you will too?” Your hand expertly works his cock, squeezing his clothed shaft as you stroked him. Unable to verbally respond, Caleb slowly nods while huffing out soft groans.

That’s how you end up on your back in the bed, legs spread with your boyfriend ruthlessly eating your pussy.

Your room is silent apart from the obnoxiously slick noise of your wet, cum soaked skin being slurped and devoured. Caleb made you cum three times already and it looked like he wasn’t stopping.

“C-Caleb—” Your eyes roll back for the nth time as his lips close around your clit for his tongue to flick back and forth in that delicious pattern. He expertly works your clit, slowly and carefully spelling out his name into your arousal all while curling his fingers deep inside your soaking pussy.

“Caleb— god— please—“ Your pleas fall to deaf ears, mostly because he’s trapped his head between your trembling thighs to suffocate in your grip. You can tell he’s getting off on it based on how he fucks your slick back into with his fingers, how he moans loudly with every slurp, kiss and bite on your skin.

He is so gone and he fucking loves it.

Your collar jingles every time you squirm and twitch, and sings a melody whenever your back arches for him. It’s like a little instrument that accompanies the symphony of moans and whimpers that leave your pretty lips.

He’s so animalistic with it, slobbering and drooling all over you while he slurps you up like one of his protein shakes. The bed’s shaking from how he’s grinding on the mattress to get a kick from all that self induced edging— his main priority, however, is you and that cute pussy that has him on a leash (literally and figuratively).

“Keep drippin’, pips.” He groans into your pussy, pressing hot smooches on your lower lips. “Keep cummin’ on my face. Tug on my damn leash. Fuckin’ love tasting you.”

Your clothes had been long abandoned after the first orgasm he ate you through. You made such a mess that your panties (which he will keep for later) were thrown across your room along with the rest of his clothes.

The way his tongue just effortlessly slides right past your entrance and caresses your walls brings a hoarse cry right out of your kiss-swollen lips. And of course your boyfriend dutifully responds with the sluttiest whine you’ve heard. You tug harder at his leash, overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation from his nose bumping your clit.

It all rushes straight down to his cock, jutting against he mattress. He shakes his head to spread your juices all over his face, wanting to be covered and blessed by your essence. Wanting to lick it right off his face once he was done. To have your scent on his form without having to scramble for it by rubbing your used panties on his face.

Eating your pussy alone was more than enough to make him cum untouched. What makes it even better is your relentless tugging of his leash, continuously pulling his face closer to your weeping cunt. If your moans weren’t enough then your trembling thighs were more than sufficient to keep him going. And he’d be damned to waste the meal you’re serving him on a diamond platter.

“Caleb!” Your cry summons another harsh, intense climax bringing your legs to a violent shake. His grip on your thighs tighten and the slurps and muffled groans get so much louder that you can’t even hear your own moans.

He tilts his head back, finally releasing your legs from his iron grip. Eyes closed, Caleb chuckles as he gulps as much air as his lungs can allow.

“Should’ve had you sit on my face.” He rasps and wipes your juices off of his chin. Almost intuitively, you open your lips awaiting a taste of your juices.

“Fucking freak.” You whimper as he stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to wipe him clean. Your tongue laps up your yummy essence, ensuring all that remains on his hand is just your saliva.

“Your fucking freak, baby.” He slowly move in and out of your mouth until the tips of his fingers tap the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Your freak that loves eating you good, loves making you feel good, loves making you cum.”

His free hand cups your pussy, feeling your wetness soak his hand like a waterfall. “Look at you. Making such a mess.” He raises his hand and lands a soft smack on your pussy making you jump from the overstimulation. Your bell jingles from the impact. He finally retracts his fingers to lick your spit off his hand, relishing in your taste with a low moan.

“Speak… for yourself.” You huff, eyes darting down to his reddened twitching length. Globs of precum dripped down his thick shaft surrounded with throbbing veins— three to be specific. “Got you all hard from eating me like a good boy.”

Caleb’s eyes flutter shut from the dirty comment. His cock jumped, dripping precum right onto your hot skin. “It’s like you want me to stuff you to remind you what gets your eyes rolling back.”

“All bark, no bite.” You grin, watching his eyes rapidly dilate. “You gonna bark again, baby?”

“Woof.” Damn, that’s fucking hot. You say nothing apart from spreading your legs wider for him. An invitation for him to act on his word. “Humble me then, Colonel. Or maybe I’ll be doing that—“

Your words get swallowed by his lips and tongue engulfing you in a lascivious kiss. Rough and demanding, breaths heavy and endless, Caleb wastes no time aligning his dripping tip with your entrance. He circles around you, slowly stroking up and down, bumping his cockhead with your swollen bud. Your juices spill all over his shaft, making it so much smoother, wetter, lewder. Fuck.

“Stop teasing,” You tug his leash as you moan against his hungry lips. “Put it in, ‘leb.”

“Mm, command me.” He grins. “You want me to fuck you good, yeah? You want this cock all up in you? Want me to stuff you full?”

The stimulation is too good for you to respond, all that can be mustered is a nod. “Use your words, pips.”

Of course.

His finger taps the bell on your collar, ringing out a cute dingle! Teasingly tapping on it, his cock slides up and down your folds, tip occasionally teasing itself right into you before pulling out. You can tell it’s driving him insane too, from how his breath is laboured, how his eyes are slowly but surely rolling back, and most definitely those soft whimpers he’s struggling to hide.

“Please, baby,” You whine, grinding your hips hard against his cock and tugging harsh on his leash. You’re practically drunk on him without even having his girth inside you. “Put in in f’me. Want you to fuck me full. Be good ’n stuff me.”

“Heh,” Caleb huffs, almost choking from how hard you pulled him. He presses his cockhead into your pussy, groaning at how tight you squeeze around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. “Yes ma’am.”

And he slips in smooth like a hand into a glove. Maybe because you’re slick from all the times he made you cum with his mouth. You both tilt your heads back, close to cumming right on the spot. He pauses to catch his breath, the dog tag on his necklace and the leather strap of his leash dangling right over your face.

“Oh, she’s squeezin’ so hard.” He grins, practically drooling from how your pussy sucks him riiiight in.

He rocks in and out of you fast, absorbing the sound of your slick and cum squelching, drenching his cock in your essence. Each thrust takes him deeper and deeper into you until his tip pokes your sensitive gummy spot.

Your little bell jumps with your titties, jingling and ringing with each relentless pounding of his length in you while his heavy sacks smack your skin. It feels so gooood and so fucking lewd that your words are reduced to incoherent mumbles.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Caleb chuckles, dragging his length in and out of your pussy with relentless speed. Even he can’t hold back his deliciously slutty moans from how good you squeeze and tighten around him. His eyes are locked on your collar, glossing over the jingling metal accompanying your moans.

“You like how I’m stuffing you?”

Your eyes cross right over, tongue tempted to loll right out. The overstimulation becomes too much even for you, forcing out so many fresh cruel orgasms from you that a ring of your cum paints the base of his cock.

“You— ah— must love how tight I clench on you,” You manage to bite back, deliberately clenching your walls to tease him. “While you fuck me deep ’n rough.”

“Fuck—“ The bed is practically screaming from the pressure of you being hammered clean. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Then do it, baby.” You must have trained him subconsciously. His cock spills heavy, hot globs of his cum right into your soaked pussy, stuffing you right up real good. His whines travel right down to your core, turning you on even more than you could possibly imagine. Something about him being so relentlessly horny for you drives you insane.

“You’re evil, baby.” Caleb groans, pressing hot kisses all over your skin, from your neck right to your jaw all while still thrusting his cum into you. You can just feel some of it escaping your plugged pussy, leaking onto the bed with the rest of your lewd juices. “Making’ me cum like this. Driving me crazy with that pussy of yours.”

Plap! Plap! Plap! sounds around the room alongside your joint cries, sweat-slick skin smacking, and your bell jingling like crazy. Your grip on his leash tightens, tugging him down right to your lips.

The kiss is so deliciously sloppy and wet with your tongues overlapping and teeth clashing. Your core tightens and burns with that familiar heat, screaming for release. “Caleb— ‘m gonna cum again.”

“Good.” He pulls right out of you, leaving your poor pussy clenching on air and practically pulsing his name in morse code. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

He raises your legs from the bed, hooking them on his shoulders and pounding his cock right back into you. In a much deeper angle hitting your sensitive core all while pinching and rubbing your clit with a calloused finger.

You choke out a cry, vision going completely white as the overstimulation burns through your skin right up your spine. The tightness in your core completely snaps, releasing juices all over you, all over him, all over the damn bed until everything in the eye can see is soaked.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby.” He grins, watching your juices drip down his abs flexing with every thrust. He leans down, pushing you into the meanest mating press to date. His cock practically bullies your cervix with his inhumanely mean thrusts, spurting globs of cum from his last orgasm right into you.

“Squirt on me.” Your toes curl as your eyes roll back into your head. “Make a mess all over me.” He’s babbling at this rate, praising everything you do while he rails you to the stars. “Pussy’s so good f’me. You’re so good f’me. Wanna stuff you to the brim. Wanna make you feel so good ’n comfy that you won’t need to lift a finger.”

You can only whimper in response to his praises. Your nails claw at his back while fruitlessly tugging at his leash. But a flimsy thing like that won’t hold either of you. If anything, it drives you even crazier for each other.

You could go on for hours, days, till the fucking room smells like you. Till the windows and mirrors fog. Till you milk him dry to the fuckin’ bone. Till you’re both so cockdrunk and pussydrunk that your names are the only things you can utter.

Not even a few seconds after Caleb loudly whines as another huge stuffing of hot cum fills you up good. His eyes cross as his tongue sticks right out, dripping saliva right into your mouth. Feeling so nasty yet so damn good, you take it all in, relishing in his taste.

“Fuck, wanna taste you—“ Using the remnants of his strength that didn’t go with his cum right into you, Caleb lifts you up into his arms with his cock still lodged inside. You swear it must have swollen up inside you.

He drives his hips up into you, pushing his cock nice and hard and deep. “Spit into my mouth, baby.” He sticks his tongue out, almost wagging it for you like the tease he is. “Drip into my mouth.”

And who are you to refuse him of his desires? Not to mention, you’ve always had the desire to do it too. The only concern is how he expects you to do it while he fucks you both beyond the point of overstimulation.

But Caleb being Caleb always finds a way. He nips your squished titties, dragging a loud sultry moan out of your lips, bringing drool right out of your tongue and right into his waiting mouth. And that alone just makes him cum again, strongly spurting his cum right into you as if he hasn’t done it twice already.

You’re fucked through and through, almost limp in his embrace and yet still hungry for more. As his cock pumps his seed deep into you, he kisses you with praises of reverence and love.

“So good.” He babbles, tonguing the bell on your collar, whimpering with the soft jingles. “So fuckin’ good. ‘M not gonna stop. ‘M gonna fuck you good all night. Stuff you full of my cum. You want that, baby?”

You quickly nod, mumbling your yeses with hiccups and moans. There was no way you were going to stop at the rate you were going. Perhaps when the sun rises. Or when your injuries heal. You’re not complaining though. It’s not every day you get to have your boyfriend like this, and you plan to make the most of it.

caleb's making me too feral for my own good.

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list

5K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

chapter three | the star

xavier x fem!reader

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, his fingers skimming across your cheek, trailing over your lips. “How could I not be jealous?” Xavier whispers, letting go of your hair to lean closer, his fingers sliding under your chin. “How could I not mark you up when you look like this, all pretty and soft under me?”

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, hickeys, overstimulation, finger-sucking, mild dom/sub undertones

wc: 6.5k

a/n: a little late, but it's here! fun fact, xavier was actually my fav when the game first released :3 taglist is closed now, i'm sorry!!

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the chariot

So maybe deciding to fuck five men to have a baby wasn’t the brightest idea you’d ever had.

You were still a bit sore from yesterday, even though you’d managed to shove Rafayel off of the bed, despite all his complaining, for him to go and get you a hot cloth to press against your sore, achy thighs.

Funnily enough, you and Xavier had somehow ended up in the same apartment complex, which meant you didn’t have to do much preparation, other than invite him over really. A yawn escapes you as you stare at the television boredly, watching the shitty cooking show that was playing.

You’d wrapped yourself up in a couple of blankets, too lazy to do anything today other than lounge around until Xavier got here. Quiet, sweet Xavier. A light flush covers your cheeks when you think of him, remembering the time you’d both let go of your inhibitions.

The elevator had been having problems that fateful week and despite all the warnings and the little poster attached to the steel doors, you were too lazy to take the stairs. Xavier had just happened to turn up and step inside the elevator with you, mumbling something about how unsafe it was to go up alone.

It’d been fine… until it had broken down.

You’d had a mini panic attack until Xavier had calmed you down, grabbing ahold of your hands to stop your nervous fidgeting, his body pressing closer until all you could see in that moment was him. His soothing words were like balm to your frayed soul and you could still remember the way he’d cupped your cheek and how your knees had gone weak.

You still didn’t know how it had happened, one moment he was shushing your panicked mutterings and the next his nose had brushed against yours, lips capturing yours hungrily. The rest was history. You were just glad security hadn’t seen the way Xavier had hoisted you up into his arms, his cock sliding into your cunt with firm, measured thrusts that had you crying out his name.

The memory was enough to make your thighs press together even now.

You shuffle up onto your feet when you hear a knock on the door, brushing your lustful thoughts away for the moment.

“Hi,” you chirp, smiling up at Xavier.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

Your gaze drifts over him. A hoodie and sweats; Xavier somehow managed to look handsome in the plainest of clothes.

“You wanna come in?” you ask, raising your brows when he stands outside your doorway, shifting on his feet.

“Yeah,” Xavier replies, “yeah, I’ll come in.”

“Did you want a drink or something?” you continue, shutting the door behind you, sparing him a glance as he brushes away the bundle of blankets on your couch, his thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. “I have juice or soda or-”

“C’mere,” he murmurs, tugging you closer until you’re standing between his legs. Your brows raise, but you do as he wants, humming softly when he wraps his arms around your legs, his face nuzzling into your stomach.

“You okay?” you ask gently, beginning to pet his hair. “We don’t have to do this if you’re tired.”

The silver strands are soft, your fingers running through them easily. Xavier mumbles out an incoherent answer and you watch the flutter of his lashes when he leans back, his shoulders sagging before he presses his face into your stomach again. A faint smile pulls at your lips, nails scratching at his scalp gently.

“‘m not tired,” Xavier mumbles, peering up at you for a moment, “and I want to do this. I agreed to it, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you affirm, brushing his hair out of his brows, fingers smoothing across his skin gently. “Perhaps you’re sleepy then,” you tease playfully, eyes widening when Xavier suddenly hooks an arm around your thigh, hoisting you up onto his lap. “Xavier-”

“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his bright eyes meeting your bewildered expression, warm hands smoothing over your thighs and up your hips, caressing your waist. “Can I do that, please?”

“Oh,” you say, slightly taken aback. All you can manage is a jerky nod, a light flush covering your cheeks at his gentle voice. You’re not so used to such… gentleness.

Xavier peers up at you, his fingers pressing into your back to help you relax until you stop holding yourself up on your knees and sink down lower, finally settling on his lap. His fingers thread through your hair, pushing at the back of your head gently until you rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck as you snuggle closer.

It’s cozy and comforting and Xavier’s body is akin to a heater. Feeling your eyes droop, you press your face into the crook of your neck, letting out a sleepy hum.

“You’re roping me into sleeping,” you mumble, a contented coo leaving you when he rubs your back.

“Rest is good,” Xavier offers, his lips brushing across your cheek fleetingly, “sleep and when you’re ready, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” you ask sleepily.

“Anything.”

“Even a baby?”

A small smile pulls at Xavier’s lips, a gentle kiss pressed to your hair.

“Especially a baby.”

You wake up to the heat of Xavier’s mouth against your neck.

Brows furrowing, your eyes blink open blearily to find Xavier’s head buried into the crook of your neck. When he scrapes his teeth against your skin, a soft, sleepy noise leaves you, eyes slipping shut momentarily.

“You tricked me,” you murmur, fingers sliding through his soft hair.

“I didn’t trick you,” Xavier sighs, his hot breath fanning across your neck, making you shiver. “I simply… left out some details.”

A whine escapes you when he kisses your throat, head tilting the opposite way when he kisses your neck on the other side, his tongue laving across your skin, mouth smacking quietly against your skin before trailing down. His fingers pull at your shirt, enough for him to kiss across your sternum before latching on once more, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“How many did you leave?” you ask, squirming in his lap when he cups your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.

“Enough,” he replies vaguely, his head tilting to peek down your shirt to get a glimpse of your tits, humming in satisfaction when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Enough?” you echo, fingers brushing across your neck, hissing softly when you feel how tender your skin is. “Enough for what?”

Xavier stares back at you blankly and you raise your brows expectantly, poking his chest in question. When he stays quiet, you narrow your eyes, pinning him in place until he gives; his gaze flitting away from you.

“Please don’t tell me you did what I think you did.”

“I didn’t,” Xavier supplies innocently, grumbling when you manage to jostle yourself off of his lap and out of his grip, padding into your bathroom, jaw dropping when you see what he’s done to your neck while you were asleep.

“What the fuck?” you squeak out, switching on the light to get a better look. “Xavier, what the fuck?”

Purple and pink splotches cover your neck, marked into every spot of free skin, save for the back of your neck which seems untouched when you crane your neck awkwardly, trying to assess the damage.

You look like you’ve been viciously attacked by a damn vampire.

“This is- is more than- than- ugh! I don’t know!” you exclaim frustratedly. “I can’t even go out looking like this now!”

“Good,” Xavier mutters, crossing his arms as leans against the doorway, his gaze tracking you as you flutter about the bathroom frantically, watching quietly while you rub a bit of concealer into a purplish splotch to see whether it would disappear.

It doesn’t.

“Good?” you snap, glaring up at him, “you call this,” you gesture to your discolored and marked-up neck, “good?”

“Yes, good,” Xavier repeats stubbornly, snatching your concealer and setting it down on the vanity, his hands sliding up over your hips to pick up and set you on the vanity after, stepping in between your thighs when you try to squirm away. “Now stop moving.”

Your eye twitches as you glare at him harder, crossing your arms over your chest when he digs through a couple of your drawers, fishing out a pack of makeup wipes.

“Fuck off,” you murmur, swatting his hand away when he tries to rub a wipe against your neck, lips thinning in irritation.

“What? You want a kiss to feel better, baby?”

“W- what?” you sputter when you hear Xavier’s voice, his question sending a pleasant thrill through your body that settles in your lower stomach, making you feel warm.

“I said, do you want a kiss to make you feel better?” he murmurs, catching your flailing hand this time, smoothing the wipe against your neck to get rid of the futile job of concealing you’d attempted in vain.

“No,” you grouse, frown deepening as you look away, too stubborn to give into Xavier’s whims just yet.

“No?” Xavier sighs, looming closer until he noses into your cheek, lips pressing against it in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be cumming inside of you soon and you’re worried about a couple of hickeys?”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you hiss, hand slapping over his mouth in an attempt to stop his strangely arousing words, unused to the change in his demeanor. “And it wasn’t just a couple, you’ve practically mauled my entire neck.”

Xavier sends you an annoyed look, his words too muffled for you to hear when you press your hand against his mouth harder. Asshole. You wanted to glow with motherhood, not to look like you’d been punched in the throat repeatedly.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out when he finally manages to pull your hand away from his mouth, his grip firm as he catches your other wrist that shoots out in an attempt to shut him up. “I’m sorry for leaving so many hickeys, okay?”

“The damage is already done,” you mumble, looking away from him, tugging your wrists free from him.

“That’ll show Caleb,” he mumbles under his breath, barely audible.

Your ears prick up when you hear Caleb’s name being uttered. Right. Xavier was jealous. You seriously should have thought this plan through better.

It doesn’t help when Xavier presses closer, nosing into your cheek apologetically, his voice soft.

“I‘m sorry, baby.”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry, Xavier.”

He sighs heavily, leaning back to run a hand through his hair. Your annoyance grows when you watch his hair fall back into place perfectly, the man before you still looking calm and composed.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he asks, raising his brows. “Get on my knees and grovel?”

Your brows raise at his suggestion, satisfaction coursing through you. That’d be a sight. “Yes, actually,” you reply flippantly, “you should definitely get on your knees and grovel.”

“Okay.”

Taken aback isn’t the right word to describe your expression when Xavier sinks down onto his knees in your bathroom. You shuffle forward on the vanity, blinking down at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish of water. Your mouth shuts soon after when he reaches out, grasping your foot.

Xavier’s fingers slide over your foot, thumb pressing into the arch of it, lifting your foot, his mouth pressing against your ankle in a reverent kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, turning your foot in his hand to press another to your ankle. “I should’ve asked and I shouldn’t have left so many.”

“You’re right,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t waver too much, betraying your arousal. “You should’ve asked.”

It’s uncomfortable, sitting on the vanity like this. You can’t squirm too much, it’ll give you away, but the stickiness in your panties has become unbearable with the way Xavier continues to talk, his voice smooth and soft. The fact that he’s on his knees isn’t helping either, your toes curling involuntarily with every brush of his mouth against your foot.

You’re not completely oblivious to what he’s doing. Xavier might seem unassuming, but you can feel the way his mouth parts against your ankle, his tongue darting out to taste your skin briefly.

Xavier’s intentions become clear when his mouth trails up your leg, uttering repeated apologies. “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, baby…” You jolt when his teeth scrape against your inner thighs, his hands smoothing up over your legs, to pull you towards him.

“Do you accept my apology?” he asks innocently, kissing your thigh again, nudging closer until his face presses right between your thighs, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes you in. “Fuck… I think you do, baby.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, fingers pushing at his head to try and get him out from between your thighs, only for an unbidden moan to slip out of your mouth when he pulls your sleep shorts to the side and runs his tongue along your drenched panties.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” you manage breathlessly, foot worming in between to press against his chest, pushing him back.

Xavier’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes darkening when you deny him. Your hips roll when he strokes his fingers against the sole of your foot, a soft sigh leaving you.

“I think I apologized at least ten times,” Xavier replies, huffing out an irritated breath when you pull your foot free.

When he lurches towards you, you click your tongue, shaking your head.

“Stay.”

Xavier pauses, cursing under his breath, his hand slipping down to press against his half-hard cock. You smile when he stays, kneeling on the floor obediently. Squirming on the vanity, you pull your shorts along with your panties, dangling the fabric on your finger.

It drops from your finger onto the floor and Xavier twitches, his eyes closing momentarily to restrain himself.

“Look,” you whisper, voice lilting, “look, Xavier.”

When his eyes open, you can spot the spread of a pinkish flush dusted across his cheeks, his ears reddened prettily, eyes going half-lidded when he sees your wet pussy on display. You let your fingers slip between your thighs, a needy whine leaving you, your slick webbing between your fingers as you spread your puffy folds, letting him see more.

You smile at him, circling your clit before your fingers press inside of your cunt briefly, voice turning into a whiny complaint. “I feel so empty, Xavier.”

“What are you playing at?” Xavier asks, his voice hoarse with desire.

“I‘m not playing at anything,” you murmur, “‘m just… relieving myself. Is that a problem?”

“Yes,” he mutters entirely too quickly, his hand pressing against the hard bulge in his sweats harder, a ragged breath leaving him. “It is a problem. Let me up, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, squirming when he looks up at you like that, flushed and needy. Your mouth opens in another moan, hips rocking needily across the vanity, desperate for relief.

“Xavier.”

It’s enough to have his resolve snapping, and your arms wrap around his neck when he surges up to his feet, stepping between your dangling legs, his mouth crashing onto yours. You moan into the kiss, pawing at his hoodie, trying to drag him closer.

“Didn’t come see me after the elevator, then you say you want a baby,” he rasps against your lips, hands sliding under your thighs to pick you up, his head tipping back when you latch onto his throat. “Been too busy fucking other men, hm? My cock wasn’t good enough for you?”

“It- it was,” you protest, feet locking around his waist when he carries you out of the bathroom. You mewl against his neck when he squeezes your thighs roughly. “It was really good.”

“Could’ve given you a fucking baby in that elevator if you’d asked,” Xavier mutters, tossing you onto your bed, lips slotting over yours once more for another hungry kiss. He kisses you breathless, his hands squeezing at your ass greedily, kneading your hips soon after.

You laugh against his lips, smiling lazily when you feel his lips twitch, eyes finding his.

“An elevator isn’t exactly a baby-conceiving location.”

Xavier huffs out an amused breath against your cheek, his lips trailing down your jaw. “I did fuck you without a condom.”

“And I liked it,” you murmur, cupping his jaw to draw him back to you, lips smacking against his.

“I figured as much,” Xavier muses, leaning back.

You watch appreciatively when he pulls his hoodie over his head smoothly, a dreamy look coming across your face when you slide your hands up his chest, eyes fluttering when he does the same to your thighs, his palms warm against your skin.

“You look good,” you breathe out, squirming under him when he gropes at the fat of your ass, your hand sneaking lower to palm him through his sweats.

“Thank you,” Xavier murmurs, his voice growing increasingly strained the more you caress his clothed cock.

You shift awkwardly, your bed dipping at your movements, drawing a laugh out of Xavier when he nearly topples over you. You smile up at him, nuzzling against his warm chest, lips drifting across his abdomen, pressing kisses here and there.

Xavier groans, his fingers sliding through your hair as you mouth at him, pulling your head back.

There’s a dangerous thump in your chest, one that has you lurching forward, neck craning up to meet his kiss when he dips his head. You feel hot, heart rampantly beating at his words, wanting more of his praise, of his devotion. It’s selfish of you, really.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses your cheek, “please, Xavier.”

“I know,” he soothes, his hand smoothing over your side, “I’ll give you what you want, baby.”

Xavier’s hands slip under your shirt, pulling it up over your head. You sigh softly against his lips when he kisses you again, his fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples until he manages to draw out another needy whimper from your lips.

You pout when he pulls away, your expression mirroring his when he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“You let Rafayel mark you up.”

Brows furrowing, you look down, spotting the lingering but faint splotches on the side of your breasts.

“That’s hardly anything compared to what you’ve done to my neck,” you mumble, arms sliding over your chest when he eyes your tits intently, feeling shy.

“I take it back,” he sighs, pulling your hands away from your chest. “It wasn’t enough.”

You yelp when he surges towards you, one of his hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them up above your head.

“X- Xavier!”

“Be good, sweetheart,” he mutters, mouthing over the faint marks, making you moan.

You whine under him, writhing when he swirls his tongue over your nipple, back arching to offer more of yourself up to him. Xavier grunts against you, his free hand coming to pin down your bucking hips that’d begun to rock against his clothed thigh, your body unabashed and uninhibited.

“‘m gonna make you mine,” Xavier rasps, peering up at you, his tongue lewdly flicking at your nipple before mouthing at the side of your breast, teeth scraping and mouth sucking until he pulls back satisfied, kissing the darkened mark on your skin. “And you’re going to be full of my cum, okay? Gonna be pregnant with my fucking baby.”

You nod your head rapidly and Xavier smiles against your chest, his lips trailing down over your ribs. When he frees your wrists, you slide your fingers through his soft hair, thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve the ache in your pussy.

“Please touch me,” you gasp, “please… please?”

“You beg so sweetly,” he sighs, the tip of his nose brushing against your breast again, his mouth latching on once more. Sharp, ragged noises leave you, eyes squeezing shut when he finally slips a hand between your thighs. “Baby, you’re dripping.”

You flush, blinking down at Xavier when he shuffles down, his cheek resting against your thigh as he spreads your puffy folds open, swearing under his breath when he sees the strings of slick clinging stubbornly to you.

“‘s all for you,” you whisper, spreading your thighs a little more to try and entice him to bury his face between your thighs. “All for you, Xavier. Not Rafayel, not Caleb, not Zayne or Sylus. Just you.”

“Just for me,” he echoes, fingers flexing against your thighs. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” you affirm, reaching down to rub your fingers against your clit, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Don’t you want what’s yours?”

“I know what you’re d-”

Slick-coated fingers press against his lips, pushing forward until you press them into his mouth, fingers resting on his tongue. Your cunt clenches around nothing when Xavier sucks your fingers, his darkened gaze never straying from your cunt, thumbing your folds further apart to watch your pussy clench again.

You moan when he slides his tongue between your fingers, sucking them clean before pulling off with a muted pop.

“All yours,” you offer again, voice breathless and eager.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, shooting you a hungry stare, “all fucking mine, baby. Every inch of you.”

You lose your ability to hold yourself up on your elbows when Xavier buries his face between your thighs, his tongue licking and swirling through your folds, low groans emanating from him.

Thighs twitching, your fingers fist his hair, unable to keep your sounds quiet any longer. Xavier slurps at your pussy, the sounds of him lapping at your cunt mixing with your unrestrained moans, the atmosphere in your bedroom laden with lust.

“You taste so good,” he whines, nuzzling into your thigh, pressing a wet kiss to your skin. “I could do this for hours.”

A hazy mewl is your response, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. You squeal when he sucks your sensitive clit into your mouth, toes curling against his back, feeling his muscles flex everytime he has to pin your thighs down, stopping you from clamping them around his head.

“Oh,” you whine, eyes squeezed so shut you think you’re seeing stars. “Xavier, fuck- ‘s too much-”

“Too much?” he breathes out against your pussy, “you asked for this, baby. Now be a good girl and take it.”

You think you could cum alone from his voice, stern and unbudging. He wasn’t like this in the elevator, far more desperate, far more out of control. Now, Xavier seems restrained, like he knows what he’s doing and knows what he wants.

His tongue laving over your pussy is enough to have you thinking that you might pass out, chest rising and falling with ragged pants, Xavier’s hand reaching to paw at your breasts, groping soon after. You whimper when he pinches your nipples, the sharp sensation going straight down to make your cunt clench.

Xavier’s teeth scrape across your puffy folds, and your eyes snap open, shooting him a panicked look, only for him to smile against your pussy, his tongue lolling out to trail over your swollen, aching clit lazily.

“Gonna let me mark you up here?” he asks, pressing a reverent kiss to your clit, his fingers pressing against your inner thigh in question, as close as possible to your pussy.

“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, tugging his hair, hips rolling up to meet his awaiting mouth, back arching when he licks over your wet pussy sloppily.

“You’re right,” Xavier smiles up at you, boyish and eyes twinkling, “it’s a great idea.”

You roll your eyes, although his quip makes you laugh, arms wrapping around his neck when he crawls up over you again. He licks into your mouth, swallowing your noises when you taste yourself on his tongue, eager pussy trying to suck in his fingers that he rubs against you.

“C’mon,” he whispers, pecking your lips, “please, baby?”

You’re much too easily swayed because you’re nodding, hands sliding over his firm chest, tongue trailing over his lower lip playfully. Xavier moans against your lips, and you follow soon after when he curls his fingers inside of you, beginning to thrust them in and out of you.

“Fine,” you murmur, “but only a few.”

Xavier shoots you a displeased look, pressing an agitated kiss to your mouth, muttering under his breath about how stubborn you are. He takes what you give him though, slinking back down to kiss your inner thighs, getting to work.

You clench around his fingers, mewling and whining with every thrust of his fingers, every drag of his tongue against your skin. When he’s fussed over your thighs, he returns his mouth to your clit, sucking it into his hot mouth, tongue swirling and flicking over the swollen bud.

“Gonna cum,” you whine, thighs squeezing around his hand, the sensations of his tongue almost overwhelming against your clit, every suck and slurp causing heat to pool in your stomach.

“Do it,” he rasps, fingers slipping out of you in favor of running his tongue over your wet pussy, a deep groan emanating from his throat. “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

It’s too much, the swirl of his tongue, the pets of his fingers against your clit. All it takes is Xavier pressing his tongue into your fluttering hole to have you squealing, toes curling and back arching as you cum on his tongue. You mewl dazedly, thighs twitching when he strokes over your clit more firmly.

“That felt good,” you mumble, playing with his hair absentmindedly.

You blink down at Xavier when he doesn’t reply, legs kicking out when he sucks your clit into his mouth again, the overstimulation enough to make you writhe.

“I- I already came!” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sinks two fingers inside of your fluttering pussy.

“You can do it again,” Xavier mutters, kissing your thigh and then your hip, “can’t you, sweetheart?”

“N- nghhhh- no,” you whine, shaking your head, hips bucking up, your mind feeling delirious with pleasure.

“Yes, you can,” he breathes out, peering up at you, spitting down onto your cunt lewdly, the sensation making you let out a shuddering breath. “You said you were mine, that this was mine,” Xavier whispers, his fingers rubbing his spit into your pussy, “remember?”

Fuck. You had said that, hadn’t you?

“No?” you offer innocently, averting your gaze when Xavier narrows his eyes. “I don’t quite recall…”

“Better start recalling,” he huffs out, although you can feel his smile against your skin, his teeth nipping at the fat of your thigh playfully.

“Just one more time,” you murmur, “okay?”

Xavier hums, busying himself between your thighs again. You don’t miss the way his hips grind against your bed, humping needily everytime he slurps at your pussy. It makes you horribly wet, and you’re tugging at his hair hard, unable to keep yourself from writhing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and whine, cheek squishing into your pillows.

Xavier tightens his grip on you everytime your thighs twitch, his arms winding around your thighs in a final attempt to keep you in place.

“Stop trying to squirm off of my mouth,” Xavier grouses, “just want you to cum, baby. Stop being so stubborn.”

You manage out a shuddery whine in response, clawing at the sheets when he sucks on your clit harshly, the sounds of his lips smacking against your sloppy pussy obscene in the quietness of your apartment.

He keeps you there, fingers thrusting lazily, tongue petting across your clit, his spit leaking down between your asscheeks until you cum again with a sharp cry of his name, shuddering violently, body curling in on itself.

“Good girl,” he soothes, rising up between your thighs, his lips wet against your cheek, “good girl, sweetheart. You did so well.”

You sniffle, snuggling up into his chest, eyes drooping shut tiredly. Xavier’s hand smooths over the curve of your hip, pulling you closer, his voice soft as he whispers sweet praises, kissing your cheek every now and then.

You can feel him not trying to move too much but you can feel the press of his arousal against your hip, hot and hard, straining against his sweats. Despite your tiredness, there’s still a dull ache between your thighs, only one Xavier’s cock can relieve.

Pretending to snuggle closer, your hand creeps down, brushing against his hard, clothed cock. You can hear the hitch of his breath, a shuddery exhale leaving him when you brush your hand against him again.

“You- ah- you should rest,” he begins, fingers threading through your hair.

Shaking your head, you blink up at him innocently, hand sliding into his sweats to finally feet him. Xavier’s cock is hot, twitching in your greedy grip when you squeeze, a whine leaving him when you drift your thumb across the head of it, smearing pre-cum along the length.

“You said you’d give me a baby,” you whisper, “remember?”

He glares at you when you throw his words back at him, his head tipping back when you pull his sweatpants down, a moan leaving him as you throw a leg over one of his, pressing closer as you stroke his cock at a languid pace.

“No wonder everyone’s wrapped around your fucking finger,” he mutters, sliding his hand over his flushed face, “you’re insatiable, sweetheart.”

You smile up at him sweetly, mouthing across his throat, hand working up and down his cock in slow pumps, mewling softly against him when pre-cum wets your hand. Xavier pants when you scrape your teeth across his neck, suckling at his skin until you’re satisfied, pulling back to see your handiwork; a prettily blooming hickey on his neck.

“Ah fuck,” he whimpers, hips bucking up to thrust into your hand when he feels your punishing pace, trying to fuck his cock up into the heat of your hand faster. “Baby, fuck-”

“You can take it,” you goad, smiling against his throat when Xavier grunts, his fingers flexing against your hips.

A glance down has you humming in satisfaction. The tip of his cock is flushed prettily, Xavier’s cock heavy in your hand, his body twitching whenever you rub your thumb over the tip teasingly.

“Please,” he whispers, his cheeks hot with embarrassment, squirming underneath you when you cup his balls, massaging them in your hand, a fat glob of pre-cum dripping from his cock.

“Please what?” you coo, biting his shoulder.

Xavier whimpers and your cunt clenches, lips trailing over his neck to suck another mark into the base of his throat.

“Please let me fuck you, sweetheart. Let me fuck you full, hm? Give you that baby you want so badly."

You hum happily, still stroking his cock when he tips his head towards you. Xavier’s lips are soft against yours, insistent and stubborn when you try to slow the pace, his hand curling around your throat to hold you in place.

Xavier sighs into your mouth, spit leaking as he licks into your mouth sloppily, his free hand curling around yours to guide it against his cock, tightening your grip.

He’s shifting you to how he wants, stealing another kiss while he manages to get you to turn, your back pressing against his chest while he draws you closer, his cock slipping between your thighs to thrust shallowly.

You whine, thighs pressing together, Xavier groaning when he feels the pressure of your thighs around his cock.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he complains, his hand sliding between your thighs to pry them apart, his breaths fanning across your hair as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

“I- I don’t know!” you respond exasperatedly, “I just- I want your cock, Xavier!”

“My cock and my cum,” he sighs against your cheek, fingers petting across your pussy, lips trailing across your jaw, “and my baby, hm?”

“Mhm,” you nod, turning your head to meet his lips, letting out a contented noise when he kisses you.

The brush of his cock against your pussy is welcome, mouth working against Xavier’s eagerly when he presses his cock against your aching hole. There’s enough slick and pre-cum for him to slide in easily, Xavier’s eyes fluttering shut in bliss at the heat of your pussy, his face nuzzling against you.

A soft moan escapes you, hand splaying out over Xavier’s when he presses it against your stomach, his breathing ragged as he draws his hips back and thrusts them forward, burying his cock into your cunt.

“So tight,” he mumbles, “just as needy as you were back then, baby.”

You sigh dazedly, ass pressing back against him, cunt clenching around his cock greedily. Xavier’s cock twitches and he grunts, his fingers reaching around to play with your clit while he fucks his cock into you with firm thrusts that have you whimpering out his name.

“X- Xavier, so- so good.”

“Taking my cock so well,” he praises, his hand sliding up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Such a good fucking girl, hm?”

“Your good girl,” you slur, hips squirming back to try and take him deeper. “‘m your good girl, Xavier.”

“Yeah,” he moans, kissing your cheek sloppily, “yeah you are, baby.”

You sigh hazily, letting him lift your leg for him to thrust deeper, every roll of his hips leaving you curling into him. Your hand reaches back to cup the back of his neck, mewling contentedly when he presses himself closer, his lips trailing across your shoulder before you tip your head back for another kiss.

“Gonna have my baby, sweetheart, hm?” Xavier whispers against your lips, unable to stop himself from kissing you between each word, every peck against your lips making you chase after him. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, peering up at him, watching as his gaze trails over you hungrily, every thrust of hips making your breasts move.

Xavier grunts, his head falling against your shoulder. His fingers wrap around your hip tighter, grip almost bruising with the way he’s clinging onto you, his cock driving into your cunt purposefully.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” he moans, his arm winding around your thigh tighter, mouth trailing across your arm, “fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“G- good,” you hiccup, your own hand slipping down to play with your clit, desperate to cum with him. “Wanna cum with you, Xavier.”

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out, lust-ridden eyes giving way to something that looks adoration, his eyes softening enough to have your heart fluttering and teeth sinking into your lower lip shyly. Xavier smiles, leaning closer, his lips brushing across your cheek gently. “My perfect girl.”

You’re almost sure you would swoon if not for his cock stuffing you full and the tight grip he has on you, anchoring you against him.

Every lewd sound, every sloppy kiss he lands against your lips, it really is too much.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you mumble, pouting.

“Then cum,” he says hoarsely, nuzzling against you, “c’mon baby, cream my cock and I’ll stuff you full like you want me to, breed you like you want me to.”

You gasp when his hips thrust forward hard, nails scratching across Xavier’s forearm, his cock buried deep inside of you, enough to have your toes curling.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, “Xavier!”

“Shit,” Xavier curses, his hips stuttering when he feels your walls clenching around his throbbing cock unforgivingly, “baby, gripping me too tight.”

A few more circles against your clit has you panting, hand curling into a pillow as you shudder and come, squeaking when Xavier drags you back when you try and squirm off of his cock, holding you in place. You can feel the way his cock throbs, Xavier’s soft whine making you clench around him again, his hot cum spilling into you.

You both pant raggedly, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Xavier managing to circle his arms around your waist and hug you closer, his lips pressed against your shoulder firmly while you twitch, his cock still stuffed inside of you.

When his softening cock slips out of you, you whimper, fingers curling around his wrist when he uses his fingers to push his cum back into you, with a kiss to your cheek.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” he murmurs, his other hand stroking over your thigh affectionately.

Xavier yawns soon after, and you hum happily when he curls himself behind you, his fingers still pushing his cum into you lazily.

“Thank you,” you whisper, tilting your head to kiss him.

“Anytime,” Xavier breathes out, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

You peer up at him when he stares down at you, your own fingers trailing over his cheek. He turns his head kissing your palm, his eyes fluttering shut.

“You really mean that?” you muse, your fingers trailing down his throat teasingly.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Anytime.”

There’s a crick in your neck when you wake up with how awkwardly you’re positioned against Xavier, curled into him intimately.

He lets out a cute, sleepy noise, one that has you smiling fondly as you shift to get more comfortable, fingers drifting across his firm chest fleetingly. It’s a bit awkward, but you manage to flip over onto your back, pressing a quick kiss to Xavier’s cheek, somehow hoping that’ll appease his sleeping form, and be enough for you to move his arm slung over your waist.

Amidst all your squirming, Xavier’s arm only seems to tighten.

You huff out an exasperated breath, flopping back against your bed, feeling boneless. Feeling hot, you kick your blanket off of you, muffling a squeak when Xavier presses closer, his nose digging into your cheek, a soft snore escaping him.

Dork.

Your brows furrow you blink down, wincing internally when you see the hickeys he’d left between your thighs. Much less than on your neck, but still fresh enough for someone to see them clearly.

You spy a few more hickeys on your breasts, lifting the leg he’d been caressing to assess it. Two darkened splotches lay on the inside of your ankle.

How conniving.

You’d be more annoyed if you weren’t so sated and warm, eyes fluttering shut again. You needed your rest after all, to deal with Caleb later.

The reminder of the fighter pilot is enough to jolt you awake again, heart dropping when you remember the image of your near-mauled neck and marked-up inner thighs. Xavier whines in protest when you sit up agitatedly, dragging you back towards him. You’d swat his head if he didn’t look so sleepy and unguarded, his face nuzzling back into the crook of your neck with a satisfied yawn.

Another glance towards your thighs makes you cringe.

Fuck.

Caleb was going to freak.

taglist >///<

@serenitymaria @kreishin @qyuin @wegottastayfocus @novthirty @syluslittlecrows @blorbohunter @luvleixo @crimsonmarabou @skylaryoung2002 @multisstuff @chirikoheina @supermissnkta @serenity-loves-red @shi-thats-kiera @froleineeeee @jaynawayna @schooki @minyoongi-pouts @mizienjoyer @isagistar @zaynesnowflake @athena-portgas @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @cutelittlesugarfairy @pookiei-bookie @dooopiee @rafshottestgf @thetimetravelernightmare @slytherin-min99 @envy-of-greed @paninisstuff @h0ngh0ngh0ng @nezuswritingdesk @teeheeheartless @flwerie @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @babyx91 @thisaintviolet69 @scoupsonlycherry @blubearxy @midiplier @young-adult-summer @daisys-mushroom-garden @sunsethw4 @lads-ficrecs @buffytheangelslayer @helios-eyre @browneyedgirl22 @straows @lennysnicket @actuallynarii

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list #was just thinking ab this series #so glad i found it again

948 notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

RIDE LIKE A PONY

summ. who would've thought you were going to get railed by the star athlete of the hockey team...before his game.

pairing. Caleb x f!reader cw. hockey player!Caleb, p in v, he's sensitive, dirty talk, kissing, semi public, wearing his jersey during sex, 1.3k wc a/n. hi guys i gave in and i'm starting a caleb series...starting off with a boom!

“Is this your way of wishing me luck, pipsqueak?” Caleb chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, sinking himself in the unexpected hug he received from you.

He still hasn't gotten changed in his uniform, and here you were, hugging on him for dear life as if he was going to die once he leaves the changing rooms. A few moments of silence pass and Caleb pulls away, looking down at your flushed face, probably caused by the cold temperature in the room.

He brought his hand to the sides of your cold skin and held onto you for a few moments as he stared into your eyes and then pulled himself away from you, heading over to his bag to grab his gear and clothes.

You stood still, watched his every move as he started stripping himself and started getting changed into his gear.

“Do you have practice today?” Caleb asked, sliding his shirt off and grabbed onto another one. You shook your head and sat on the bench across from him, eyes still locked on his figure as each piece started to stick to his body, one by one, he was already almost done getting changed.

“Just the jersey and pants left.” he mumbled to himself, digging his hands in his bag as he searched for his desired items.

“I’ll help.” you say, getting up from the bench and strutting towards Caleb, shoving him aside and dug your hands in his bag to find the things he was looking for. After a few minutes of searching you found the jersey and pants and pulled them out, waving it in front of his face.

“Thanks pip- huh?” Before Caleb could grab the stuff from your hands you pulled your hand back, a small smirk resting on your lips as you watched Caleb's reaction twist from confusion to amusement.

“Oh? Wanna help me put it on then?” Caleb pushed aside his bag and sat on the bench, spreading his legs and arms apart, indicating that you have the will to put his uniform on, but that wasn't what you wanted.

“Give me a kiss then I'll give your stuff back, deal?”

“If that’s all you wanted then you could have asked sooner.” Caleb teased, lifting himself off the bench and walked towards you. Once you were just mere inches away he slid his arms around you and lightly picked you off the ground, walking back to the bench and placed you there.

“Just a kiss, alright?” he whispered, his hot breath ghosts over your cold skin as his eyes stared down at you, waiting for approval. You nod and not even a second passed and he already had his lips planted on yours.

Caleb was practically devouring you, why? Because you wore his favorite lip balm that always sends him to a spiral when he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him even closer so he could savour more, there was no backing out now that he had a taste.

“Hey..” he muttered between the kiss, pulling away for a second to just dive back on you again. Caleb's tongue seeked for entrance and when you gave it to him, his hands reached the sides of your face, pulling you closer than ever.

His tongue intertwined with yours, and he couldn't pull away. He knew this would happen, and as much as Caleb tried controlling himself, he couldn't. He felt like a glass cup that shattered the second it drops on the ground.

“You did this on…ngh…purpose, didnt you?” he breathed, pulling away staring at your flushed face beneath him. You gave him a quick nod, the corner of your lips were playing a slight smirk that couldn't be held back anymore.

Caleb groaned, looking around the changing room before he picked you up, and placed you on his lap. Your eyes widened and instinctively, you started grinding your hips against his. Low whimpers filled the room, Caleb held onto you with a tight grip as he watched you ride yourself against him.

“That's itt, roll your hips ju-just like that…” he whimpered, bucking his hips the slightest to indicate to you to go quicker. You obey his silent orders and continue driving yourself against him, feeling his warm fabric make contact with your bare thighs.

“More caleb..” you whisper, grabbing onto his shoulders, pulling yourself closer. Caleb nodded and slid his fingers under the waistband of your skirt, toying with it before pulling them off, and also removing your other clothes in the process. A low whistle left his lips the moment you were left in nothing except your panties and bra.

“Is it cold?” he teased, bringing one of his hands to his pants and slowly sliding them off, revealing his aching, dripping cock.

You shook your head, well it was a complete lie, ‘cause the room was freezing but you couldn’t tell Caleb that so you just stayed quiet until he notices.

“Yeah? Alriightt” Caleb purrs and with his free hand he pushes you closer to his cock, and soon slides his hand down your body playing with your waistband of your panties before pulling them down.

“Don't make a mess, pips.”

You rolled your eyes and then felt his dripping tip make contact with your cunt, a quiet moan escaped your lips and you kept your eyes shut as Caleb continued to slowly push himself more and more inside you.

The comfort of his hand ghosting on your waist suddenly disappeared and that's when you realised he was reaching for the jersey that was still clenched between your fingers. In a swift movement he grabbed on the jersey and slid it on your body.

With the jersey on and half his length shoved deep inside you, you stare at Caleb in disbelief. His fingers soon found their way back to your waist and he pushed you up and down, up and down, keeping the rhythm at a slow pace.

“I knew you were cold,” he chuckled, rubbing one of his hands up and down, letting the friction of his jersey rub against your skin to make you feel a little warmed up. You put your head down, letting the sides of your hair cover your flushed face and gripped onto his shoulder tighter, as the pace started to get quicker.

“Let me see..mmh you.” Caleb asked, wrapping his hand on the back of your neck, prying your head to look at him but you shook your head and continued to keep your head down.

You eventually found control in the situation and rode yourself against him. Caleb chuckled and slid his fingers away from your head and sat back as he watched you pleasure yourself on his cock. Moans filled the secluded, echoey room. Both you and Caleb were in a daze, and god, it felt good.

“Hey.. Let me see you–urgh fuck yourself in my jersey,” he moaned, brushing his thumb against your lips and soon, you gave in, and slowly lifted your head up, looking directly into Caleb’s violet eyes.

Your vision was blurry, probably caused by the pleasure rushing through you. Caleb’s face looked like a fever dream, twisted and yet, still so beautiful. Your hips started to get tired and Caleb grabbed onto you again, thrusting you quicker and quicker.

He was hitting, Every. Right. Spot. Which was making you closer and closer to release, you wrap your arms around him and arch your back, feeling him against you as you chanted your release.

“Let it out.” he whimpered, thrusting you one more time before you unexpectedly came all over his cock, a sigh of relief escaped both yours and Caleb's lips, he panted against your shoulder and held onto you for a few moments.

“Caleb, your game?”

“It should be starting in a few minutes but my jersey is now messed up.” he frowned, skimming his fingers down his jersey you were wearing.

“Just wear it.” you mumble, taking it off and throwing it at his face before hopping off his lap and putting your clothes back on.

Caleb chuckled and eventually got changed, getting up and putting the final parts of his gear on. Once he finished changing he walked towards you, ruffled your hair, and gave you a kiss on your head.

“Wish me luck.”

“I will.”

part 1 of fly into your heart | caleb -> next work

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list

1K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡| 𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓊𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Sylus waited two centuries for you. A cursed love, a lost soul, and a final chance to end the cycle. Blood, sex, and destiny collide at a masquerade ball as you give yourself to him the vampire who has always been yours. Eternity begins tonight.

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Blood Kink, Soulmate, Blood Play, Dark Romance, Masquerade Ball, Touch Starved, Possessive Lover, Rough Sex

𝔄𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔱: Chaloobie on X

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰: @cordidy @cafekitsune (for the banners) @carnallydepravedsanctum (for the edits) (If you want to be on my permeant tag list lmk)

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔱: 3071

Blood.

Blood trails down your neck, slipping between your breasts.

Pain.

The sharp drag of fangs against your skin.

Venom.

It seeps into you, making your body hum—numb and alive all at once.

Desire.

It curls hot and tight in your belly as you press closer to the man behind you. The man with blood-red eyes and hair as white as snow.

You feel the chill of his touch skimming your fevered skin. You feel the hard length of him grinding against the curve of your ass.

"Mmmm," he purrs into your ear, voice rough velvet. The sound alone makes your thighs clench, seeking any kind of relief.

His mouth is still on you. Still savoring you. Each pull from his lips makes your blood sing for him.

To him, you taste like sin—sweet, intoxicating, addictive.

His tongue laps at your punctured skin before he breathes against you, sending shivers racing up your spine.

"I am yours," he growls, low and ragged. "I'll wait for you..."

You jolt awake, gasping.

Your skin burns where his mouth once was. Phantom touches linger—his cold hands, his teeth, his voice whispering promises you can't forget.

The sheets are tangled around your legs, damp with sweat. Your heart thunders in your chest like you’ve lived it, not just dreamed it.

But it was only a dream... wasn't it?

You press trembling fingers to your neck. No punctures. No blood. And yet, you swear you can still feel him there, as if the memory is stitched into your skin.

A shadow moves at the edge of your vision. You snap your head toward it—but nothing's there. Just the pale glow of the moon outside your window.

Still, you can’t shake the sensation. His voice, low and rough, echoing through your mind:

"I am yours. I'll wait for you."

You bury your face in your hands, trying to breathe, trying to forget.

But deep down, you know you aren't imagining him. He isn't just a dream.

He’s a memory you can't quite grasp, a presence that refuses to let you go.

And he’s waiting.

Later that night, you slip into your gown—a breathtaking creation of black silk and blood-red accents that clings to your curves and glitters under the light like spilled stardust. The mask you choose is just as stunning: intricate lace and sharp edges, hiding your eyes but revealing just enough to leave the imagination wanting.

The Hunters Association spared no expense for tonight's gala. A grand celebration for a new sponsor whose identity remained secret—whispers of power, money, and connections spreading like wildfire among the elite.

You arrive at the masquerade ball and immediately, all eyes turn to you.

You don't just enter the room—you command it.

The chandeliers overhead sparkle like frozen rain, the music swells in a haunting waltz, and laughter and clinking glasses fill the vast hall.

But none of it matters.

Because you feel it—before you see it.

The weight of a stare. Heavy. Intense. Unyielding.

It burns against your skin, hotter than the ballroom's heat, sharper than the finest blade. You shiver in your heels, heart stuttering.

You lift your chin, scanning the masked faces swirling around you—predators and prey, dancers and liars.

And there, across the ballroom, half-shrouded in the shadows beneath the grand staircase—

A man.

Tall. Pale. Impossibly magnetic.

His mask is simple, black and silver, but you know it’s him. You feel it deep in your bones.

White hair gleaming under the lights. Eyes that blaze like molten garnet.

He stands perfectly still, watching you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

Your breath catches. Your body remembers him before your mind can even think. The dream, the touch, the bite—it wasn't just a fevered fantasy.

It was a warning.

And now... he’s here.

He doesn’t move.

Not at first.

He simply watches you—like a wolf deciding when to strike.

The crowd shifts and spins between you, dancers weaving intricate patterns on the marble floor, masks flashing like mirrors under the chandeliers.

But you feel it. That invisible thread pulling tighter between you both.

Your heart pounds in your throat, your hands trembling against the folds of your gown. You should look away. You should run.

But you take a step forward.

Then another.

As if pulled by something ancient, something inevitable.

The crowd parts like a living tide, as if the world itself knows not to stand in your way.

Still, he doesn’t move. He waits.

And when you are close enough to breathe in the cold, electric air around him, he extends a gloved hand.

No words.

Just a simple, devastating invitation.

Your fingers tremble as you place your hand in his. His touch is firm—cool, but burning a path straight through you.

Without a sound, he pulls you into the dance.

You melt into his chest, the music fading into a dull roar as he leads you effortlessly across the floor. His body moves like a dream—strong, predatory, utterly in control.

You can feel the way he watches you behind that mask. Not just your body—your soul.

Every spin, every step, every subtle press of his hand against the small of your back is a silent claim.

Your pulse races. Your thighs clench. You can’t tell if it's fear, desire, or both.

And when he leans down, his breath feathering against the shell of your ear, you almost whimper.

"You feel it too," he murmurs, voice like silk over steel.

A shudder runs through you.

You open your mouth to speak—but his hand tightens just slightly on your waist.

"Not yet," he whispers. "Soon."

Then, just as suddenly as he appeared—he releases you.

You stumble back, breathless, dizzy.

The crowd swallows him whole. He vanishes like smoke.

Leaving you alone on the dance floor, heart pounding, body aching, and a single, burning thought echoing through your mind:

It was him.

And he’s just getting started.

"(Y/N)! Who was that?" You jump at the sound of Tara’s voice, she appears beside you, grinning and sipping her drink without a care. Still dizzy, still reeling from what just happened, you stammer, struggling to find words.

"I— I don't know," you manage, your heart thundering. "He feels... familiar. Like I've met him before."

Tara laughs, giving you a playful nudge. "You say the strangest things sometimes. Come on, let's dance!"

Before you can protest, she grabs your hand and pulls you back onto the dance floor. Laughter bubbles out of you—wild, carefree—and for a while, you lose yourself in the music, in the lights, in Tara’s infectious energy. You drink, you dance, you laugh harder than you have in what feels like forever.

Maybe you had a bit too much to drink. Or maybe you were still riding that high-strung wave of unease. Either way, you know one thing for sure: you need to find a bathroom.

"Tara, I’ll be right back," you shout over the music.

She winks at you, already twirling into Simmone’s waiting arms.

The gala sprawls through an ancient mansion, beautiful but confusing—a maze of shadowed corridors and towering doors. You wander, heels clicking softly on the marble floors, trying door after door.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, opening a heavy wooden door... only to find a bedroom instead of a bathroom.

That's when you feel it.

The weight of a stare.

The heat of a presence.

Right behind you.

"Lost, kitten?" The voice is low. Velvet over steel. It rolls through you, sending a shudder of ecstasy down your spine.

You whip around, your breath catching.

"Who are you?" you whisper, voice trembling, pleading.

You feel him step closer, his breath brushing your ear, the heat of his body caging you in.

"Think, my darling," he murmurs.

Your mind spins, memories slipping through your fingers like water. You don’t know him—or you shouldn’t—but your heart, your soul, they know.

They remember.

Bound by a curse older than the stars themselves—a vampire who fell in love with a mortal. A mortal who damned her own soul to never fade, to always return, lifetime after lifetime.

He always finds you.

Century after century.

And this time is no different.

Your lips part as the name tumbles out, torn from the depths of your very being:

"S–Sylus." Your heart cracks open. "My love."

The moment the words leave you, his mouth crashes into yours.

The kiss is raw. Brutal. Starved. You kiss him back with a fire, a desperation born from centuries of yearning. He grips you tightly, as if terrified you might vanish again.

Two hundred years of hunger, of aching loneliness, pours out between you. He kisses you like a man who has lived only for this moment. And you cling to him, heart shattering, body melting, soul finally, finally whole again.

Without realizing you've been pinned against a wall, moving with every breath of the intense kiss. Sylus' body trembles as he holds you, his hands shaking not from fear—but from the unbearable need coursing through him.

"You remember." he whispers against your throat, voice ragged. "You're mine."

He drags his hands up your thighs, pushing the delicate fabric of your gown higher and higher until it pools around your hips. You gasp when you feel his hand slide between your legs—his fingers groaning softly when he finds you already wet for him.

"Fuck," he hisses. "You're perfect. You're beautiful."

Your hips buck into his touch, seeking more, desperate for him the way he is desperate for you. His fingers tease you—slow circles, cruel and tender all at once—until you're panting, grinding shamelessly against his hand.

"Please, Sylus," you whimper, voice breaking.

That’s all it takes. The last thread of his self-control snaps.

He undoes the front of his slacks with one hand, freeing his cock, thick and already dripping for you. He doesn't waste time—he can't.

With a guttural growl, Sylus aligns himself with your entrance and pushes in, inch by devastating inch, filling you in one slow, merciless thrust.

You cry out—half pleasure, half overwhelmed sob—as your walls stretch to take him. He buries his face in your neck, trembling against the need to just fuck you into the wall right then and there.

"So tight," he groans against your skin. " Made for me."

He starts to move—slow at first, grinding deep, savoring every desperate gasp and whimper you make. But it doesn’t stay slow for long. The centuries of longing crash down on him, ripping the control from his body.

He fucks you with deep, brutal strokes, each one slamming you harder against the wall. Each one claiming you in body and soul.

Your nails dig into his back through his shirt, your legs trembling around his waist. But he holds you like you weigh nothing—like you’re precious, sacred.

"I'm yours," you sob, clinging to him. "Always yours, Sylus."

He kisses you—rough, messy, teeth clashing—and you feel him lose himself completely.

His hands are everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, your throat—possessive and worshipful all at once. You can feel him pulsing inside you, close, desperate.

He shifts, angling his hips, and suddenly he’s hitting that spot inside you that has your vision going white.

"Come for me," he commands, voice a broken growl. "I need to feel you."

It’s too much—his voice, his body, his love burning into you—and you shatter around him with a scream, clenching him tight.

Sylus snarls against your throat and follows you over the edge, thrusting deep one final time as he pours into you, his whole body shaking with the force of it.

He doesn't pull away. He stays buried inside you, holding you tight, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I’ve missed you," he pants. "It took longer to find you my love.”

You can only cling to him, tears mixing with laughter as you realize: this time, he’s yours forever.

"Take my blood," you whisper, voice trembling with need, gazing into his crimson, desperate eyes. "I don't want to be parted from you again. I don't want to leave you alone, waiting for me to return."

Sylus' chest heaves, his hands gripping your hips so hard you know there will be bruises later—but you welcome them, you want them.

"Break the curse...?" he pleads, his voice breaking, as if he's scared to believe it could really happen. As if your love, so deep, so ancient, that now it was blossoming into a new life. And yet he vowed to never take your blood unless you asked. Everything changes tonight.

You cup his face, thumb tracing his sharp cheekbone, eyes shining. "My darling," you breathe, "it ends tonight. Forever."

He groans, the sound low and guttural, feeling your slick walls still clutching him tight, his cum already dripping from your swollen hole. But he's hard again inside you—aching, throbbing—with a need that is no longer just physical.

It’s soul-deep.

Without another word, he leans in, trembling, mouth brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck. You arch into him, baring your throat in surrender.

"(y/n)," he growls against your skin, and then his fangs pierce you.

Pain blooms, sharp and dizzying—and then it’s swept away by pleasure so intense your vision whites out. His cock throbs inside you, grinding deeper, and you can feel his mouth greedily sucking your blood, drinking you down, taking you into him.

Your body spasms, helpless against the sudden orgasm that rips through you— pleasure and pain, life and death, love and eternity all blending into one.

Sylus growls again, deeper, possessive, as he drinks, hips thrusting shallowly, grinding against your sore, sensitive walls as he bonds your soul to his.

You feel it— a snap, like a tether finally locking into place.

The curse shatters. The bond forms. Forever.

Sylus pulls back, his mouth bloody, his eyes glowing like molten rubies. He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed, ever wanted, and finally—finally—you are.

He cradles your face in his bloodstained hands, his forehead resting against yours, cock still pulsing inside you.

"I love you," he rasps. "In this life. In every life."

And with a slow, savage thrust, he begins moving again, needing to seal the bond not just with blood— but with every inch of himself inside you.

Your blood still slicks his lips, your neck throbbing from where his fangs pierced you— but you don't care. You want more.You need more.

Sylus lifts his head, blood dripping from his mouth, staining his sharp teeth. His eyes burn so fiercely they almost glow. He looks wild, ravaged—no longer a man, but a creature driven by ancient, feral hunger.

He cups your chin roughly, smearing blood across your jawline, your lips. You shudder, the eroticism of it making your walls flutter around his still-pulsing cock.

"Taste it," he commands, voice shredded raw with lust.

You obey without hesitation, parting your lips as he presses his bloodstained thumb against them. You suck it in, tasting yourself—coppery, sweet, alive.

Sylus shudders violently, letting out a broken moan.

"Fuck," he groans, "you're so perfect kitten."

He shifts you suddenly, the movement drives him deeper, forcing another helpless moan from your throat.

Then— he leans in and licks the wound he made, slow and possessive, his tongue hot and slick against your skin.

The sensation sends another bolt of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching down hard around him.

Sylus growls, rutting into you harder, faster—like he can’t get deep enough, can’t get close enough. And then— his fangs scrape along your collarbone, your breast, leaving stinging, shallow scratches. Marks. Claiming you. Painting you with little lines of blood.

You whimper his name, clutching at his hair as he worships you with mouth and cock, drinking tiny sips from the cuts he makes, never enough to hurt—only enough to own you.

Your head falls back against the wall, lost to the overwhelming sensations. Pain. Pleasure. Blood. Sex.

"Cum for me," Sylus growls, voice dark, rough. "Cum with my teeth in you, my cock in you. My blood mixing with yours."

And when his fangs sink into your breast, right over your pounding heart— you scream his name, cumming so hard you black out for a second, convulsing around him as he pumps you full of his seed again, marking you inside and out.

He stays there, buried in you, drinking, gasping, whispering promises against your skin.

Sylus cradles you against the wall, still sheathed inside you, panting raggedly. His crimson eyes glow, wild and reverent. Then, with one clawed nail, he makes a shallow, precise cut along the strong curve of his neck. A bead of dark, shimmering blood wells up instantly—thick, rich, intoxicating.

He cups the back of your head and pulls you closer, his voice low and commanding:

"Drink, kitten."

Your heart races—not with fear, but with aching, desperate need. You part your lips and press them to his wound, tasting his blood for the first time.

It's molten heat, velvet darkness, forbidden ecstasy sliding over your tongue.

You suck greedily, your hands clutching his shoulders as the blood—his essence—pours into you. And you feel it immediately. The venom woven into his blood ignites in your veins, burning away your humanity with every pull you take. Every swallow draws you closer to the abyss... and to him.

Your legs tremble around his waist, your body writhing against his, overwhelmed by the flood of pleasure and pain. You moan against his throat, lost in the high, the transformation.

Sylus groans deep, low, a sound torn from his chest as he feels the bond snapping into place— eternal, unbreakable.

"That's it, my love," he rasps.

Your vision blurs, your heart thunders once, twice... and then stops.

In that instant, you die in his arms. But you are not lost.

You are reborn.

The world rushes back to you, sharper, hungrier, every sensation magnified a hundredfold. Your teeth ache with new fangs, your skin hums with unnatural power, your soul sings with his song.

Sylus lifts your head from his neck, gazing down at you with raw, savage pride. You lick the last traces of his blood from your lips, smiling wickedly.

"Forever." he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. "Our souls are bound."

And then he thrusts into you again—soft, delicate, passionately —claiming each other not just in blood, but in body and soul.

This time, when you cum, it shatters something inside you, making you truly his.

The curse breaking.

The bond forming.

Together Forever.

Hello loves ! I'm thinking about calling my following The Ferrymen (since you all share my stories) Thank you all so much for reading until the end ! Don't forget to show some love ... it would mean so much to me. If you like my stories so much and want to be personally tagged in ALL my work please let me know ! I would most def do that for y'all. Sniffing Pleasure will be out soon hehe in the meantime I hope you enjoy Vampire Sylus ( I love him and Astarion sooooo much)

Anyways,

Much love and kisses to all!

~The Deadstory Teller~

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list

2K notes · View notes

froggiequarium · 2 months ago

Text

endless summer - caleb 夏以昼

surrounded by your very own endless summer, what happens when caleb and you reunite for the first time since the events of ‘captive bird?’ my take on ‘endless summer.’ part two of my series of smutty canon compliant caleb fics. (part one)

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little plot, porn with feelings/angst

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, continued off ‘endless summer’ (caleb’s standard 5*), slightly angsty, lots of feelings, outdoor sex, f!on top, slight voyeurism, unprotected, never pulling out, otherwise pretty vanilla, pet names (baby, brat, princess, pip-squeak), no use of y/n, insecure caleb, conflicted mc

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: part 1: captive bird | ao3 | endless summer memory | where our blue is

━ ✧.˖ A/N: helloooo after talking about this so long ago it’s finally here!

part two of my series of smutty moments between caleb and mc throughout the canon material. first was my take on ‘captive bird’ which i’ve linked above. this one would occur two weeks after that one. next will be ‘exclusive aftertaste’ no current eta

also i highly rec listening to キタニタツヤ (where our blue is—the outro to jjk hidden inventory arc) as you read. i think it encapsulates endless summer SO well. read the english lyrics :D

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

part one | part two |

“Don’t go.”

Even in his sleep, Caleb’s grip is firm against your wrist. Almost like, even in the comfort of dreams, he was plagued by the feeling of you slipping through his fingers like sand.

Your heart throbs at his gentle pleas. It’d been two weeks since you’d left Skyhaven—since he’d let you leave. Two weeks since you’d both decided to start being honest with yourselves—honest with how you felt for one another. How you’d always felt for each other.

Two weeks since you’d given yourselves to each other in the most intimate ways possible—something you found yourself replaying over and over in your head. Particularly at night, when you were alone in bed.

But was it a misplaced night of passion? Fueled by the overwhelming trauma you’d both endured, both then and all your lives?

Whether it was or wasn’t, it didn’t matter. Because you’d chosen to leave. And he’d chosen to let you.

But even now, the way the summer light hit the defined ridges of his thick biceps made you blush like some lovestruck schoolgirl. Made you remember just what those arms could do to you—had done to you.

You physically shake your head, pushing those thoughts away. If you had any hope of returning to the things were, you absolutely could not be reminiscing on the way Caleb held you, devoured you.

When his thick eyelashes flutter open, his violet eyes misted with an unbridled despair and longing, his hand coming up to your face to smooth your hair that the wind had ruffled.

Even awake, he can’t help but plead brokenly, “Don’t leave me alone.” His voice is faraway, like he was still caught in a battle between nightmares and consciousness. It’d only been two weeks since you’d gone back to Linkon, but the way you’d left things made everything all the more complicated and tense.

Did you want to go back to the way things were? Pretending you felt nothing more than innocent, platonic, love for the man you’d craved nearly all your life?

No, you didn’t. But worse than going back to a life of pretending was a life where you couldn’t even look Caleb in the eye anymore because of one night.

He was the most important person in your world. Could you really risk that over one night that very well might’ve been an emotional mistake, born of desperation and vulnerability, on both your parts?

But for Caleb, now that he had you in his fingertips again, even when things were fractured and unresolved, all he could think about is how your lips were slightly parted, sheened with moisture. How the summer heat made your cheeks flush—nearly the same shade as when he had you folded beneath him.

Unbeknownst to you, Caleb had never been more assured in anything. Everything he ever did when it came to you was carefully thought out and highly intentional.

You would never be a mistake to him.

Without thinking, as if you were his center of gravity, he leans in towards you. His eyelids are heavy with the weight of his thick fluttering eyelashes, still caught between dream and reality. His lips instinctually seek yours, as naturally as his lungs inhaled air—desperate to feel what it felt like to have you again. Not just in his sleepless and hopeless dreams.

For a second you’re drawn to him like you were that night, still that helpless moth drawn to a blinding light. But rational thought, ever the annoying presence, resurfaces.

Your eyes widen, and the gentle breeze sweeps against you. Something catches in your eye, maybe dust or a fragmented blossom petal. Against your heart’s own longing, you push him back gently, trying to blink the discomfort away. Tears had already welled in your one eye, threatening to spill over.

“Caleb?” you ask, honestly unsure if you’d mistaken yourself, your vision blurry in the one irritated eye. If, like the countless lonely nights leading to this summer day, you’d imagined him leaning in to kiss you.

Caleb’s nebulous eyes widen as you push him back, his face falling into a heartbroken dejection. The same feeling when you’d told him you couldn’t stay in Skyhaven. Stay with him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The resignation in his voice makes your heart squeeze painfully. You try to reassure him, “No it’s okay…I just got something in my eye.” On cue, your eye starts to twitch and your hand instinctively comes up to rub at it, even when you know you shouldn’t.

“Let me see,” Caleb murmurs, sitting up off the stone wall he was leaning against. Relieved to have an excuse, he leans in closer, looking into your teary eye.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you can’t help but ask, knowing he won’t tell you anyways. Ever the protector, he’d rather face everything alone than burden you with even, what he considered, a silly little bad dream.

You fight the urge to shiver when his eyes flicker to your lips, before he smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, holding the heavy weight of both his unending longing and depthless loneliness.

His eyes reluctantly meet yours again, fingers brushing the hair away from your twitching eye.

“Don’t blink,” his voice is unbearably gentle, his other hand coming up to tenderly hold your face in his fingers. He bites back a groan as his body reacts viscerally to the feeling of your skin against his again.

His hands thread into the strands of your hair, and he leans in until his face is mere inches from yours. Your heart pounds so painfully you can hardly hear anything but the rushing of blood in your ears. You can’t focus on anything but Caleb’s parted lips and warm breath.

This was far too dangerous. Your resolve to return to ”normalcy” was quickly dissolving, leaving absolutely no traces of its existence behind.

Like he’d done so many times before, he blows gently into your eye. Except it doesn’t feel quite like when he used to do it before, when you were younger.

You shudder at the feeling of his breath against your sensitive eye. Tiny delicate petals land in his hair, his skin glowing under the soft sunlight. Despite the circles under his eyes, he looked just as you remembered him. Just how he did when he held you against his naked chest on your last night in Skyhaven.

The moment is charged with unspoken tension and you know you should pull away. But you can’t bring yourself to. Your breath catches when one of his hands abandons your cheek, placing his palm over your hand that rests on your thigh. The feeling of his thumb stroking your skin feels so unbearably familiar and natural you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping out loud.

Again, his stormy eyes fall to your lips before he pulls away, his eyes downcast and his warm palm abandoning your clenched hand. He falls back against the stone wall, the conflict of emotions on his crestfallen face speaking for him.

He knew exactly what he wanted, but he’d never force it if you didn’t feel the same. If you regretted him.

Spotting a pink petal in his hair, you give him a gentle smile, making a small step towards smoothing over your prickly relationship, “I heard…that the fragrance of endless summers can bring people sweet dreams for a whole night.”

He looks at you in surprise, heart pounding under his white tank top as you clean in closer, blowing it out of his hair, like he’d just done for you.

The delicate fleck of pink flutters into the air with the warm breeze, Caleb’s deep galaxy eyes following its path, until it lands in his outstretched palm. An olive branch of sorts.

As you move to stand, Caleb’s arm darts out, his fingers firmly enclosing around your wrist before he can stop himself. You look at him in surprise, not pulling away.

Caleb’s face doesn’t quite meet yours, but he refuses to let go, “But…there aren’t endless summers in Skyhaven.”

There’s a heartbroken desperation in his soft words, so soft you barely hear them over the rustling of foliage. It melts away the last of any lingering animosity or restraint you’d been holding onto.

You were too far gone. The past was irrecoverable. Probably from the moment you’d laid eyes on him on the tarmac on the Fleet base in Skyhaven—the first time since the explosion.

And finally, finally, you accept that you don’t want to return to the past.

Caleb was your weakness, just as you were his.

With his hand still holding your wrist, you let yourself fall back to him, grasping his face in your fingers. Before you can change your mind, you press your mouth into his, gasping when his soft lips meet yours.

Unlike the first time you’d kissed him on his couch in Skyhaven, Caleb doesn’t hesitate, wasting no time in threading his fingers into your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.

He swallows your squeak of surprise when you topple onto his lap, his hands leaving your face so that they can grasp your exposed legs, your skirt having ridden up. His strong arms make sure you situate safely and comfortably on his thick thighs. Your arms naturally loop around his neck, melting into his secure and desperate hold.

Caleb pulls you closer, your rapidly pounding hearts beating against one another. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as his tongue rediscovers every inch of your mouth, groaning into your lips as you squirm against him.

His fingers inch up your legs and under the hem of your skirt, rubbing the pad of his thumb into your heated skin. Your hips roll instinctively as you try to hold back your whimpers, your inner thighs brushing against his crotch.

“Caleb—!” you gasp, tearing yourself away when your core presses against his bulge, already incredibly hard as it strains against his jeans, grinding against you.

Caleb groans beneath you, his hands moving to grip your hips firmly, fingertips digging into your skin as he stills your movements.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he rasps, gripping your chin, forcing your hazy eyes to focus on his own darkened ones. His chest heaves with the effort of holding back his unbearable need for you—an unending black hole of desperation that had grown explosive over the last two weeks.

He presses heated kisses down your jaw and against your throbbing pulse, murmuring, “Go easy on me, pip-squeak.” Despite his seemingly soft and pleading words, his body moves against yours with precision and domination.

You feel him grin against your collarbone when a moan escapes your wet lips, unable to contain it when his hips thrust up into you, giving you a taste of just what you’d been dreaming about since leaving Skyhaven.

“Asking for mercy when you’re the one teasing me,” you grumble, cursing your body as it arches at his will, instinctively giving him better access to your neck.

He traps you against him, his thick arms hugging your entire body as he chuckles and pushes his lips to yours again. Through the heated clashing of tongue and teeth, you can vaguely feel your knees tingling and you realize Caleb is using his Evol to make sure your bare knees don’t scrape against the rough outdoor ground. You don’t even think Caleb realizes he’s doing it, far too lost in reclaiming what he’d thought he’d lost.

The summer breeze ruffles Caleb’s hair, catching soft pink petals. He tears himself away from your mouth, tracing a trail of wet kisses everywhere he can reach.

Taking a deep inhale of your intoxicating scent, he rasps, “Tell me to stop. Last chance.”

When his teeth graze against an already forming love bite, you moan unabashedly into the open space by his ear, “W-Why would I do that? This is what I want.”

Caleb growls, his chest vibrating against yours, “Say that again.” His fingers find their way under your skirt, kneading the soft plush of your thighs, stopping himself from venturing higher, deeper.

You’re distracted by the teasing touch of his fingers, “Say—ngh—what?”

Caleb’s fingers dig in, crescents indenting into your skin, “Say that you want me.”

Realizing that you leaving Skyhaven had simultaneously left him broken-hearted and needing validation, you pull away slightly so you can face him. Cradling his jaw in your palms, you whisper whole-heartedly, “I want you. More than anything.”

Caleb’s eyes darken to a near indigo, his jaw clenching with barely restrained desire.

He growls, “Not a mistake?” Though his tone is unbelievably commanding, you can make out the faint lingering insecurity, his bright purple eyes pleading with yours. The desperation to know that you needed him as much as he needed you.

“Not a mistake,” you affirm gently, fingers curling into his hair, lips pressing into his jaw. Your knuckles scrape against the concrete pillar, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Before he gives into uncontrollable animalistic need, he chokes out your name, words laced with unbearable desire, desperation, and love.

“I miss you.”

Your still-healing heart splinters fractionally.

Miss. Not missed. Like, even with you in his lap and his arms encircling you, you were still just a faraway dream to him—a fantasy.

But this was reality. And the reality was that you were irrevocably his—not a bird trapped in a cage, but a bird returning home after an endless winter.

Taking his face into your hands, your lips descend upon his. Just before they meet, you whisper, “I missed you, Caleb.”

You press your lips the remaining distance to his, purposely rolling deeper into his lap as you do so. Caleb receives your kiss, not missing a beat as your tongues meet in a tangle of desperation.

Your fingers fly to his belt, undoing it eagerly. Caleb lifts his hips up, as if to give you more access, better control.

Despite his eager movements, he pulls away briefly, voice hoarse with desire but also hesitation.

“A-Are you sure?” His eyes dart around your compromising setting, heart pounding at the idea of being so vulnerable out in the open, where anyone could find you. There was little to no coverage from your position atop his lap to the back door of the store which stood wide open, the indoor counter visible.

“The store’s closed, no one will come in,” you whisper in rushed tones, glancing at the back door, “But if you want to stop…”

Caleb growls, his right hand finding your nape, turning your face back to his.

“Fuck no.”

Your teeth nearly knock together with the force at which he devours you in another all-consuming kiss. His free hand quickly helps you undo the rest of the barriers between you and his impossibly thick cock, swollen and tall against your naval.

With your skirt ridden up, only your pitifully soaked panties stand between you and him. His arms are wrapped so possessively around you that your entire body is flush with his, his manhood pressed right into your core.

Unable to wait any more, you pull your wet undergarments to the side, grinding directly onto him. His cock fits so perfectly against you, parting your sensitive lips until you’re practically fucking him with just your soaked lips.

“Christ,” he grunts into your lips, “Won’t last like this, princess.”

Your chest flutters with confidence, unbelievably turned on by his yearning for you.

“Good,” your murmur, “You know I’ve never been a patient person.”

He lets out a strangled chuckle, swearing when you purposely drag his throbbing engorged tip against your entrance, nearly impaling yourself onto him.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, “Such a spoiled brat.”

You giggle in between desperate gasps, eyes nearly rolling back as he thrusts his hips into you, cock brushing against your clit.

“You made me this way.”

Caleb grins, grabbing the base of his erection, dragging himself intentionally up and down your irresistibly responsive skin. He leans into the corner of your neck, nipping playfully at your earlobe.

“Did I?”

You gasp as he pushes himself into you, but only enough to stretch you slightly and yearn for more—not enough to fully enter you.

“Then let me take responsibility.”

His words drip with an arrogant possessiveness that makes you keen into him, nearly collapsing against his marbled chest. His free fingers grip your chin, bringing your fluttering eyes to his.

Wordlessly, his amethyst hued eyes plead with yours—one last affirmation of consent.

Biting your lip, you nod eagerly. Caleb’s eyes darken unmistakable, his voice low and animalistic.

“Good girl.”

You feel his Evol recede, and, using only his hands, he lifts and positions you perfectly against his swollen head. Just as he sinks into you, he curses and captures your lips in a searing kiss, devouring your cry of simultaneous pleasure and pain.

Gently, he nibbles on your bottom lip, encouraging you to call out more for him. It only makes your body seize up, tightening like a vice around his cock.

Caleb stiffens, his fingers digging so forcefully into the soft flesh of your hips that your eyes roll back. It takes everything in him not to slam you down to the hilt, his erection throbbing painfully, wanting nothing more than to bury itself in you and never leave.

Incrementally, he lowers you until you sit fully on his lap. Caleb trembles visibly under you, chest heaving and thighs quivering under your own. Under the sun, Caleb glows with thin sheen of sweat, his breath ragged as he adjusts to how fucking tight and perfect you were.

“G-God, couldn’t stop thinking about this,” Caleb rasps desperately, burying his face into your chest, “Thinking about how perfectly you take me.”

You bite your lip, eyes darting around. Though Caleb’s voice was by no means loud, as the trees rustled, you can’t help but be reminded of your surroundings.

Your arms wrap around his head, cradling him to you, indiscreetly muffling his voice, “Me too, Caleb.”

Without lifting his head, Caleb looks up at you, his rhythm hungry and rough.

“Only me, yeah?”

Though his words are slightly insecure, they’re laced with a possessive confidence that reminds you just who your heart had always belonged to.

You roll your eyes, wanting to tease him just a bit. So you don’t speak, leaving his question unanswered.

Caleb’s eyebrows furrow at your intentional silence, unaware of how adorably pouty he looks.

“Tell me.”

He punctuates his demand with a sharp pointed thrust up into you, one of his hands moving up to grip your throat. You squeal, your cry strangled by his fingers as he uses his other hand to slam you down onto his lap.

The deafening sounds of skin against skin, bodies joined in inseparable union, ring out in the open space, mixing with the gentle sounds of dancing foliage to create the most sinful orchestra. Your heart races as you pray no one enters the storefront.

But Caleb only goes deeper, the lewd sounds progressively growing louder as he awaits your response. As if he might pull your sweet words out of you using his cock.

“O-Of course! Nnngh–who else would there be?”

Caleb looks unsatisfied with your response, his violet eyes wet and shiny with need.

“Please baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”

Any previous confidence that laced his words had since dissipated. Now, as the vast universe of his purple eyes stared into yours, you could tell just how desperately he needed validation. How badly he needed you to ground him in this moment—to reassure him that this was real.

That he could blink, and you’d still be there. Unlike in his dreams, where you’d be in his arms one second and gone the next.

“I—” you moan embarrassingly loud when Caleb captures your clit with his roughly padded fingers, twirling it tenderly, showing it the same care one might show a precious pearl.

He leans into your neck, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Please.”

Your heart squeezes at his rare vulnerability, and you find yourself confessing to everything he wanted to hear. You’d been thinking it anyway.

“F-Fuuck–! I’m yours Caleb. No one else…” you trail off as he rubs relentlessly into your g-spot, a sensation you could never quite replicate when you found yourself alone in bed with nothing but your longing for a certain Colonel and toys that paled in comparison to this.

“No one else what, baby?” Caleb demands, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, “Tell me.”

He knocks the wind out of your lungs when he grabs your waist, using both his legs and his arms to bury himself into you—losing himself in you.

“No one else—fuck—stretches you out like this?”

Caleb swears as his filthy words make you spasm against him, his own veins throbbing inside of you. The sound of your pleasured screams has him wanting to push you further, trying to prolong this moment—a moment he’d been hoping for since that very first night.

One hand moves to your stomach. “Hah—no one else gets to be right here.” Caleb’s fingers dig gently into the soft skin under your belly button, where there’s an unmistakable bulge of where he bullies himself into you.

“N-No one!” you squeal in agreement, embarrassed by how easily he could render you a submissive fucked-out mess—putty in his hands.

Caleb swears under his breath at the sight of you, clinging to him with all the longing in the world, chasing a pleasure that you only wanted and would ever want from him.

Under the soft rays of the sun, swirls of hydrangea petals dancing around your hair, you looked like heaven reincarnate. Everything he ever wanted, and then miles more.

“No one else will ever get to feel—to know perfect you are,” he murmurs, his strong arms wrapped around your entire body, pulling you closer to him in a hug that forces you to feel the depth of his adoration for you. He holds you so tightly that you can feel the cool metal of his necklace press against your chest.

Your breath catches. Trying to convey your feelings for him, you whisper, “I-If I’m perfect, then what does that make you, Caleb?”

For a split second, Caleb seems taken aback. But he quickly composes himself and chuckles darkly, “Just a boy who had the good sense to fall for perfection.”

Your heart flutters rapidly at his words. A boy. As if he’d felt this way about you for far longer than he’d let on.

“Then I guess I’m just the foolish girl who fell for that boy.”

Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise, almost like he didn’t believe you. Didn't believe he was worthy of your affection—of you.

“Fuck baby—keep saying things like that and I…” Caleb cuts himself off with a strangled grunt, his heading falling back to gently hit the concrete column behind him. You laugh breathlessly, gently taking his head into your hands, pressing his face into your shoulder. Caleb groans as the intimate proximity amplifies your pheromones, mixing intoxicatingly with the summer air.

“And you’ll what Caleb?” you tease, your confident tone betraying how close you were.

Caleb pulls away from your chest, his fingers gently holding your chin between them. Violet eyes hooded with deep rooted desire, he looks at you with a sincerity so honest and raw that it makes the world around you fade out. The blinding sunlight seems to dim, the rustling of leaves fading into silence.

“I’ll never let you go,” he murmurs hungrily—almost a lightly veiled threat. The truth and sincerity dripping from those simple five words sobers you up briefly—just a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the haze of insurmountable ecstasy and passion.

You take his hands into yours and loop them tighter around your waist.

“You’d better not,” you whisper, eyelashes fluttering as he hammered up into your g-spot, nearly bruising your cervix as he tried to bury himself inside you, leaving imprints of himself behind.

Caleb’s jaw is slack—his teeth clenched as he fights his body’s need to release inside you, marking you as his.

“Never again,” he gasps, your name leaving his lips like a sacred prayer, “Never.”

The intensity of this moment is all too much—breaking walls that’d raised over months in mere milliseconds. Your body starts to move on its own, grinding down as he pumps up into you. The combined movements feel unbearably passionate, like ocean waves colliding with one another in a crescendo of unfiltered desire and need.

Caleb buries his face into your neck, his teeth scraping playfully against your pulse.

“Close, baby,” he rasps, movements growing increasingly erratic and desperate, “Need to fill you up, okay?”

You groan, raking welts until his biceps, fingers trailing up and down his heated skin as your gut tightens with impending release. You’re about to speak—beg for it—when you hear the distinct sound of a bell jingling.

The front door of the store.

Your muscles tense, your thighs clenching against Caleb’s lap in fear. Caleb’s violet eyes widen back at you, but he shows no signs of stopping, only chasing your combined releases even more hungrily.

Faraway and muffled, you hear a voice call out, “Hello?” Footsteps follow, loud and taunting against the wooden floor beams of the building, “Are you guys still open?”

Even amidst the sounds of your wet thighs slapping into Caleb’s, louder than the sound of wind disturbing the trees and bushes, you can hear the footsteps getting closer. But Caleb shows no signs of stopping, almost as if he cannot hear what you hear.

“Mmmf–Caleb–!” you say in hushed tones as he bounces you so enthusiastically that your brain feels like it’s rattling in your skull, “S-Someone’s—nnngh—inside.”

Caleb bites the inside of his cheek, impossibly close to his finish, “Shh, princess. Ignore them, okay?”

Your eyes widen at him in disbelief before they roll back in ecstasy. Despite your words, your actions, you couldn’t bear the idea of him stopping. Not when you were this close—when you’d missed him this badly.

“They’re g-going to hear,” you whimper, but you make no moves to stop him—in fact only meeting his movements more excitedly, clit grinding into his pubic bone.

“They’ll go away,” Caleb growls, begging, “Please. I need you.”

A strangled moan escapes your lips, inexplicably turned on by the way he begs for you—the way he needs you as much, if not more, than you need him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, nodding eagerly. Caleb groans in appreciative awe, using everything in himself to bring the both of you to your explosive releases.

Heart hammering, cunt clenching unbelievably tight, you moan, “C-Close, Caleb.”

“Fuck!” Caleb moans under his breath, rambling as his cock twitches inside you, “Close too, princess. Need to mark you. Need this. Need you.”

His words are the nail in your coffin, sending you careening into your orgasm. Your nails dig into his shoulders, thighs clenching tighter around him, as your entire body seizes up. Just as you come undone, his name on your lips, the voice calls out again—closer this time.

“Helloooo?”

Caleb pulls away from your neck, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other hand clasping tightly over your mouth. If he had to guess, he’d say the person was right in front of the cashier counter, where you’d left the backdoor ajar. At the right angle, they might even be able to see the two of you.

He needed to keep you quiet, because he’d be damned if he let anyone see you like this.

But he’d also be damned if he ever missed an opportunity to hear you cry for him.

“I’ve got you,” he grits, milliseconds away from his own climax—movements sloppy and erratic, “Just like that. Fucking perfect.”

On the cusp of his orgasm, he whispers, “Let me hear you. I can’t keep trying to remember what you sound like. It’ll never compare.”

Your heart skips an erratic beat at his admission. Knowing that maybe he lay awake thinking of you, of that night, just as you did, night after night…

It made your orgasm crescendo, soaring to entirely new heights.

Your moans vibrate against his palm, the muffled cries of his name audible even with your mouth covered.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” he gasps your name reverently, pressing his forehead to yours, “Christ, you feel incredible.”

The explosion of warmth inside you makes you groan in satisfaction, still into his hand that gently grips the lower half of your face. Caleb grinds up desperately into your tight walls, every stroke a release of thick hot seed.

The sound of footsteps still remains, and in the back of your head you know you should be concerned.

But it only makes you cum harder.

You’d say it was the same for Caleb, because even as his pearly essence dripped down your thighs, he was still pumping, still crying your name—almost loud enough to be heard beyond your little summer sanctuary.

Caleb releases your mouth, only to replace his palm with his lips, pressing a searing kiss to yours. His tongue claims every inch of your mouth, just as his cock marks every possible part of your core.

He swallows your cries hungrily, hips languid in their movements now. He tries to prolong this moment as much as possible, not ready to face reality.

In the back of your head, you can hear the store bell ringing again, either signaling the customer leaving or a new one entering. But you can’t bring yourself to care, too focused on the way his body feels inside yours.

Eventually, the overwhelming feelings—pleasure, lust, desperation—boil down until only a tender adoration remains.

Your head rises and falls rhythmically, laying on Caleb’s heaving chest. Tremors course through your entire body as you bathe in the afterglow of this moment between you and the Colonel you found yourself loving so hopelessly.

Caleb cradles your head, gently holding you tighter against his body, his fingers combing through your wind mussed hair. His lips press into your scalp, taking deep inhales of your scent.

This was the only fragrance that could give him sweet dreams for an entire night, and entire lifetime.

But then, he’s reminded of how temporary—fleeting this moment is. Like chasing the last day of summer, where the sun melts away just as you really begin to enjoy it.

On instinct, he holds you tighter—as if you might melt away from his fingertips right then and there. Even in the sweltering summer heat, you don’t mind, only sighing happily in pure bliss.

Your voice cuts through the sound of emerging cicadas, soft and hesitant, “Caleb, if we hadn’t run into each other here…would you have not come back to see me?”

Caleb freezes against you, his muscles tensing, “...Were you hoping I would? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

You gently extricate yourself from his arms, looking straight at him, “I…want you to answer my question first.”

Caleb sighs, unfathomable emotions beyond the depth of his beautiful eyes, “Have you thought about me at all these past few weeks?”

You’re caught off guard by the direct question, “I—”

Caleb continues—cutting you off before you can form an answer, “How many times?”

His face is tilted upward, watching the petals of summer flowers float through the air, “When I want to see you, will you also want to see me?”

You can tell the question isn’t meant for you. It felt like a mantra that he’d repeated to himself repeatedly. And while it was directed at you, it echoes like a confession between the small space between your joined bodies.

The silence stretches on as you let the words sink in. Caleb wasn’t looking for an answer, but he needed you to feel the weight of his questions. Through the intimacy of the moment, you almost forget he’s still buried inside you, an uncomfortable sticky mess smearing against his lap and your thighs.

Finally, Caleb’s eyes meet yours against, his palm cupping your cheek tenderly. He presses his forehead against yours, skin slightly damp with a thin sheen of sweat. With a reverent whisper of your name, he finally answers your initial question.

“How could I not come?”

Your heart flutters, eyes stinging with emotion. His breath is heavy against your lips, yours rapid and shallow against his.

Just before you press your mouth into him, you whisper an answer to his question, “If you’re the one asking Caleb, then the answer is always yes.”

With those words leaving the tip of your tongue, you lean in the rest of the way to kiss him—slowly, tenderly, adoringly. The entire world melts away amidst your embrace, leaving only you, Caleb, and the endless summer surrounding you.

And just like those endless summer hydrangeas—the only ones that bloomed year-round, you’d always remain. You’d always be his center of gravity.

Even if there weren’t endless summers in Skyhaven.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

#🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･aquarium reading list #sometimes #u see the username #n just know its going to be peak

2K notes · View notes