SHH... WE CAN'T GET CAUGHT.

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ megumi had long since stopped listening to your whimpering pleas, the soft little no more and ’gumi, please, i can’t that barely even formed between your broken, gasping moans.

he didn’t care.

didn’t care how much you were shaking, didn’t care how your legs were trembling, how your weak hands pushed against his broad shoulders as if you had the strength to stop him.

no, megumi was far past caring.

his arms were locked around your thighs, forearms pressing down hard to keep you open, his grip possessive, unrelenting, hungry. his fingers dug into your soft skin, keeping you in place as his mouth worked you over, tongue flicking, lips sucking, his pace never once slowing, even after your last orgasm had left you gushing all over his chin.

you were a mess.

your slick had soaked the sheets beneath you, dripping down onto the bed from how many times he had pushed you over the edge, your thighs slick with the wet, obscene evidence of his obsession.

but megumi just groaned into your pussy, his voice thick, needy, completely fucking gone as his tongue circled your clit again, lips wrapping around it to suckle just right, just like he knew made your body jerk, made your hips try and run.

but you couldn’t run.

he wouldn’t let you.

"fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, his voice muffled between your folds, wet, filthy, breathless. "how could i stop when you keep cumming for me like this?"

you sobbed, the pleasure too much, your body twitching under his hold, overstimulated beyond belief. your fingers grasped at his shoulders, weak, trembling, but he didn’t budge.

he just licked deeper, tongue pushing inside you, curling, his nose bumping against your swollen clit, his arms flexing as he tightened his grip when you tried—tried—to squirm away.

"no," megumi muttered, his voice dangerous, raw, his tongue flicking out again to lap up the mess he had made of you, sending another sharp wave of painful pleasure through your body.

you screamed, thighs trying to clamp together, to stop the overwhelming sensation, but megumi just laughed, low and breathless, his mouth still sealed against your cunt, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter.

"you’re not going anywhere, baby." he moaned, sucking on your clit hard just to hear the wrecked, high-pitched sob it tore from your throat. "you’re gonna keep cumming for me. again and again—until you can’t even fucking think."

GREED.

pairings:Rafayel x you!

warnings:slight nsfw content poor grammar not proof read. very short whoops

Usually Rafayel isn’t so greedy with things, but when it comes to you he’s almost obsessive.

Sometimes, he’d lock you in his studio with him making sure you wouldn’t leave :)

His head was resting against your shoulder shallow breaths falling from his lips.

Rafayel gripped your hips and moved you in a steady rhythm his girth rutted deep into you shamelessly.

a moan falling from your lips as you tried pulling away from him.

“Rafayel- i really need to get to work.”

The moment you tried pulling away from him Rafayel pushed his cock deep into you hitting your cervix over and over again.

“No, why should work get you all the time and i can’t huh? It’s pretty greedy if you ask me.”

Poor man couldn’t help himself, he just needed you all the time where it became obsessive he was down badly.

a/n:lawd this was rushed! but i hope you guys enjoyed mwah mwah

Love and Deepspace x BG3

Vampire Ascendant Sylus

— Borrowed time, part 3

‼️Caleb x reader x Sylus. Reader not MC. University AU. Modern AU. Angst angst angst!

Everyone knows Caleb is in love with MC. Everyone. Including you. But that does not stop him from flirting with you, teasing you, keeping you close. And it definitely does not stop you from falling for him—even when you know you’re just a stand-in, a place holder.

“Had you paid a little more attention, you would’ve known I hated the thunder too.”

word count = 5.2k

i appreciate all likes, comments, reblogs, and asks. i may not reply to all of them, but i want you to know that i reread them over and over 🥺

part 1 | masterlist | part 4

The choir of rain showering down envelops your whole world. Holding yourself close, you hug yourself away from the constant roar of the thunders.

You did not notice the man watching— his gaze lingering on the drenched rag of a person curled up on the roadside.

Another roar tears through the sky, clawing at your chest, sending tremors down your spine. With each shallow breath, you silently pray for the nightmare to be over, to wake up under warm covers in the safety of your own room.

He probably saw the state you’re in—the haziness in your unfocused eyes and the way you blink, once, twice, sluggish and distant. A sigh leaves his lips as he kneels down to your level. With one gloved hand holding his helmet, the other lightly flicks your forehead.

The flick is light—too light for the weight crushing your chest, yet enough to tether you back to reality and bring some focus back into your gaze.

You slowly raise your gaze, meeting his crimson orbs. Unwavering. Sharp. Studying.

His lips twitch—not quite a smirk, not quite concern.

“You look like hell,” he states as he tilts his head, studying you like you’re an amusing puzzle.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your lips tremble, but no words form.

Sylus exhales, slow and deliberate—not quite a sigh, but something close.

“Can you get up?”

Silence. Only the sound of the rain, the low hum of the storm, and the quiver of your breath fill the air.

He clicks his tongue, running a hand through his drenched silver locks before shaking off the excess water. Then, without a word, he drops his helmet onto your head, fingers swift and practiced as he secures the strap beneath you chin

The sudden weight startles you. But before you can react, you’re lifted.

A sharp gasp catches in your throat as his arms hook effortlessly around you, pulling you up from the cold ground and onto the sleek leather seat.

He swings his leg over the bike, boots steady against the pavement. The engine purrs beneath you, low and commanding.

“Hold tight.”

The words are simple. A command. A warning.

Your hands instinctively clutch his waist, gripping the fabric of his jacket. The sudden yank pushes you flush against him.

But through the turmoil of it all—through the howling wind, the biting cold, the chaos swallowing the whole world as you ride through the roads a little too fast—beneath your fingers, beneath the soaked fabric,

he’s warm.

The contrast is sharp. The world untamed, screaming, tearing everything apart. The situation rushes past you, too quick, too unreal.

Through it all, you—fractured, weightless, drowning— hold onto him— steady, unshaken—like he’s the only rope tying you to reality.

•

“What’s your room number?” he asks as the bike comes to a stop and the deep rumble of the engine fades.

By the time you’ve returned to the resort, the campfire is long gone—reduced to nothing but damp coals and the ghost of laughter lingering in the air.

People scattered, rushed towards shelter, their hurried footsteps splashed against puddles. The storm has chased everyone indoors.

Except for you and him.

You’re still clutching onto him, fingers curled around the fabric of his jacket. The lingering warmth of his body beneath your touch feels foreign.

“Well?” Sylus’s voice cuts through the silence.

You blink, realizing you haven’t answered.

Your lips part, allowing a light whisper to leave your lips.

“409.”

Without a word, he starts walking.

Perhaps it’s because you did not want to be left alone in the darkness of the night again, or perhaps it was because the sudden loss of warmth prompted your body to move on its own.

You trail behind him through the dimly lit halls, the faint hum of electricity buzzing through the silence. Water drips from your clothes, leaving a trail behind as you shiver against the cold air-conditioned corridor.

You steal a glance at him. Sylus walks ahead, hands shoved into his pockets, completely unfazed. As if he didn’t just find you curled up on the side of the road, as if you’re not drenched and shaking beside him.

The two of you stop in front of your door.

You fumble for the key card, fingers trembling slightly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold or from everything that’s happened tonight.

“Shh, don’t be scared.”

Soft coos seep through the door.

“I’m here, pipsqueak. I’m here.”

Soft giggles follow the gentle whispers.

“You’ve always stayed with me on days like these, holding me just like this whenever there were thunders.” Her voice is small and fragile—like something meant to be cherished, protected.

Your fingers hover the doorknob, frozen in place.

The storm rages on, harmonizing with the soft giggles on the other side of the door.

You stood there paralyzed, your mind too tired to register whatever it is that your heart is going through.

Sylus leans against the doorframe, watching you hesitate. Waiting.

“So? You gonna go in, or are we just standing here all night?” He finally asks, voice low and edged with amusement.

Your lack of response earns slow exhale from him.

Before you can fall any deeper, before you can drown in the ache clawing at your chest—he moves.

His hand wraps around your wrist, firm and unyielding.

You flinch, eyes finally snapping to him.

He doesn’t say anything—just turns, walking, dragging you with him.

Away from the door. Away from them.

“Sylus—“ Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t loosen his grip.

And deep down, you were glad he didn’t.

You let the warmth of his hand anchor you, let the storm swallow everything else, and let the laughter behind the doorframe fade into nothing.

•

Sylus doesn’t stop walking until you’re deep inside the quiet halls of the resort, the sound of rain and thunder fading into the background.

His grip finally loosens as he stops in front of a door.

Without looking at you, he pulls out his key card and swipes it. The lock clicks open.

“Get in.” His voice is flat, low—an order, not a request.

You linger by the doorway, water pooling beneath your feet.

Sylus exhales sharply for the nth time that night, raking a hand through damp silver strands, sending droplets scattering to the floor. Then, without warning, he grabs a towel from the bed and throws it at you.

It smacks against your chest, snapping you out of your daze.

“Shower.”

You blink up at him. His crimson eyes don’t waver.

His jaw ticks. Another sigh, this one slower, controlled.

More is tossed at you.

A shirt. A pair of sweatpants. His clothes.

They land in your arms, warm, freshly laundered, carrying the faintest trace of him—clean, sharp, and something unplaceable.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric.

“You’re soaked. You’ll get sick.”

It’s not concern. It’s a fact. A simple statement.

When you still don’t move, he clicks his tongue, tone dipping into something dangerously close to impatience.

“Either you go shower, or I’ll throw you in there myself.”

That finally makes your feet move.

You clutch the clothes tighter against your chest and step past him, disappearing into the bathroom.

The door clicks shut behind you.

And only then do you finally exhale.

The warmth of the shower does little to soothe the tightness in your chest, but at the very least, it washes away the lingering cold from the rain, the exhaustion clinging to your skin like a second layer.

When you finally step out, damp hair sticking to your neck, Sylus is exactly where you left him—leaning against the dresser, one knee bent, a towel draped over his head. His silver hair peeks through, darkened by water, stray strands clinging to his forehead. He’s slow with his movements, lazy almost, dragging the towel through his hair before ruffling it out with one hand.

For the first time, you actually look at him. Not just a passing glance, not a flicker of acknowledgement,—but really look.

At the way the dim light carves shadows along his jawline—the cut of his jawline, the slight furrow in his brow, the way droplets trail down his collarbone before vanishing beneath the black tank clinging to his build—damp and unforgiving, outlining lean muscle and sharp edges.

There’s something effortlessly sharp about him, something dangerous in the way he simply carries his frame.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as his gaze flickers up, sweeping over you. Unbothered. Knowing. Like he’s caught you staring.

“Like what you see?” his voice drips with lazy amusement.

You blink, heat creeping up your neck before you compose your features.

“What is there to like?”

His smirk deepens, crimson eyes flickering with something teasing.

“You really are a shortcake.” He smugs as his gaze roams your body. “Looks like my clothes are trying to swallow you whole.”

You glance down. The oversized shirt hangs loosely off your shoulders, the hem brushing against your knees. The sweatpants are cinched at the waist, tied hastily to keep them from slipping.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “It’s not my fault you’re built like a damn tree.”

Sylus snorts, shaking his head as he runs the towel over his hair one last time before tossing it onto the chair. “Move.”

He brushes past you, the scent of clean linen and faint sandalwood trailing behind him. The door clicks shut a second later, leaving you alone in the room.

For a moment, you simply stand there, staring at the empty space he left behind.

Then, with a slow, heavy breath, you make your way to the bed. The mattress dips beneath your weight, soft and warm—a stark contrast to the cold pavement you were curled up on just hours ago.

You sink into it, pulling the blankets over yourself, letting your body finally rest.

But sleep never comes.

Even as exhaustion tugs at your limbs, your mind refuses to quiet.

The storm still lingers beyond the windows, faint rumbles reverberating through the walls. Every moment from tonight replays, over and over again—

The laughter at the campfire.

Caleb’s dismissive jokes.

Caleb’s warmth, his head rested on your lap as the sun sets.

His voice, gentle, whispered—“I’m here, pipsqueak. I’m here.”

And the way the line cut before you could even finish your cry for help.

Your grip on the blanket tightens.

It’s pathetic. How much this hurts. How much he still has a hold on you, even when you know better.

You force yourself to listen to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, gripping into your own palm like doing so could lull you to sleep.

The blanket feels too heavy. The air, too thick.

You shift onto your side, curling in on yourself, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the ache sitting heavy in your chest.

The shower stops, and a moment later, the bathroom door opens.

Sylus steps out, towel draped around his neck, silver hair still damp, a few strands clinging to his skin. The scent of clean linen and something sharp, something distinctly him, fills the space.

He says nothing, nor does he acknowledge you.

Instead, he crosses the room in that effortless, unhurried way of his, tossing the towel onto a nearby chair before grabbing something from his bag.

You watch from the corner of your eye as he settles into the chair beside the bed, flipping the book open like he’s done this a thousand times before.

Like you’re not lying there, curled up in his clothes, drowning in the silence between you.

Like this is just another one of his quiet nights.

The pages turn, slow and steady, the faint rustle of paper weaving into the distant cries of thunder.

Still, the way the thunder rumbles through the sky, rolling and crackling so close, makes your body tense on instinct. You will your breathing to steady, to calm. But your hands won’t stop trembling.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid.

The sudden change from the steady rhythm of pages turning to the faint tap of his fingers against his phone screen causes your brows to furrow in curiosity. You crack an eye open just enough to see him searching something up. His expression remains as impassive as ever, his crimson gaze flicking across the screen, scanning whatever article he’s pulled up.

Then—without warning—he gets up, grabs your blanket, and yanks it off you.

“H-Hey—!” You barely have time to react before he moves, fast and measured, rolling you over onto the bedspread like you weigh nothing.

“What the hell are you—“

He ignores you. Ignores your flailing arms, ignores your indignant protests, and swiftly tugs the blanket around you, tucking you in so tight you can barely move.

You blink, completely stunned. You stare up at him, utterly dumbfounded, as he looks down at you with a face that is, somehow, completely unbothered.

“What the fuck is this?”

Sylus simply plops back down into his chair, cool as ever.

“It’s what they say helps cats with anxiety attacks.” He gestures vaguely towards his phone. “Something about mimicking the feeling of safety.”

Silence. You blink at him.

Once.

Twice.

His lips twitch—just slightly. “You’re welcome.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“What kind of dumb—this isn’t even—“ You wiggle, struggling against the tight wrap of the blanket. “Sylus, let me out.”

“No.

“Sylus.”

“They say chin scratches can also help calm cats down,” he smirks. “Would you want that too, kitten?”

You open your mouth to retort, but another loud crack of thunder cuts through the room. Your breath hitches before you can stop it.

Silence engulfs the room once more.

He flips to another page in his book.

“Do you hate it that much?” his eyes never leaving the words in front of him. “The thunders.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the way your hands still tremble against the blanket.

“No.”

Sylus hums, the sound low, almost skeptical. He flips another page.

“Convincing. Really.”

You would never admit it, but the tight wrap of blanket around you created a protective barrier between you and the world.

Or perhaps it is the steady rhythm of his breathing. The calm, unshaken presence beside you.

Your eyelids grow heavier.

The storm still lingers outside.

But here, in this quiet space, it’s bearable.

And before you realize it—the world turns dark.

•

Your eyes shoot open.

The room is steeped in deep blue, the quiet hum of dawn settling over the world. The storm has long passed, leaving behind only the faint scent of rain lingering in the air.

You instinctively look around, your pulse quickening as the memories of last night rush in like a relentless wave.

The chair beside the bed is empty. The book he was reading is gone.

He isn’t here.

A strange feeling settles in your chest—one you don’t have the energy to name.

You push yourself up, the oversized fabric of his clothes slipping loosely around your frame.

Right. You need to go.

Sliding off the bed, you grab your things, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing you need is anyone seeing you sneaking out of a room that isn’t yours.

The hallways are eerily silent, save for the distant rustle of the ocean breeze slipping through an open window. You slip into your own room unnoticed, the door clicking shut behind you.

MC is still asleep, curled beneath the blankets, her breathing slow and steady.

You exhale, body weighed down with exhaustion as you strip out of Sylus’s clothes, replacing them with your own. The fabric is warm, familiar.

Sliding your phone onto the charger, you finally crawl into bed, slipping under the covers beside MC.

She stirs slightly, shifting at the dip in the mattress, but doesn’t wake.

The silence stretches, the soft rhythm of her breathing lulling you into something close to peace.

You close your eyes.

•

You’re jolted awake by MC’s sudden exclaim.

“Oh my god, Yn!”

Your eyes snap open, the soft haze of sleep vanishing in an instant. MC is hovering over you, her phone clutched tightly in one hand, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Where the hell were you last night?!” she demands, voice a mix of worry and exasperation. “I called you like, a million times! I was this close to going out and looking for you—” She pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “But, you know… how I am with thunders.”

You blink, mind sluggish, body too drained to react.

MC huffs, shoving her phone in your face. “Seriously, Yn. I was worried sick!”

You squint at the screen, barely making out the endless stream of missed calls and texts before you sigh, rubbing a hand down your face.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I—”

What are you even supposed to say?

That you got caught in the rain? That you collapsed on the side of the road? That Sylus found you?

That you spent the night in his room?

Your throat tightens.

MC sighs, finally pulling back. “I swear, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” Her expression softens, the frustration fading into something quieter. “You okay?”

The concern in her voice makes your chest ache.

You force a small smile. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

MC watches you for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But don’t ever do that again, okay? If something’s wrong, you tell me.”

You nod, though you don’t say anything.

She plops back onto the bed, stretching her arms over her head. “Anyway, we have a long-ass day ahead of us. Let’s get moving before they start filming without us.”

You hum in agreement, pushing yourself up despite the weight still clinging to your limbs.

The moment your feet touch the floor, a faint dizziness creeps in, but you shake it off.

Today is going to be long. You just have to get through it.

MC chatters away as she gets ready, pulling out outfits and rummaging through her bag. She seems to have let go of last night’s worries, and for that, you’re grateful. You don’t have the energy to explain anything right now.

By the time you both leave the room, the sun has fully risen, painting the sky in warm golds and soft blues. The air is fresh, carrying the lingering scent of rain, but the storm from last night feels like a distant memory—like something only you remember.

When you arrive at the set, the atmosphere is already buzzing with energy. Crew members are setting up, actors are going over their lines, and the director is barking out instructions.

MC quickly joins the main cast, slipping into her role with ease, leaving you to find your own place among the side characters.

“Action!”

The day begins.

It’s hectic—far more chaotic than yesterday. Since most of the key scenes are scheduled to be filmed today, there’s barely a moment to breathe between takes.

You go through your role automatically, delivering lines, hitting your marks, going where you’re needed.

And yet, through the commotion, you can feel him.

“Action!”

You can see him in the crowd, practicing and discussing his lines.

You can see him placing his hand on MC’s head, telling her it’s okay she messed up her part.

“Action!”

Every now and then, between takes, you can see the way his eyes land on you, a certain look that you can’t quite place your finger on.

And every now and then, during any short break he can muster, you can see the way he tries to approach you.

But the simple thought of him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Yn—”

You slip away.

“Where were y—”

Someone calls you over before he can finish.

“Why didn’t you pick—”

Another take is called, forcing him back into position.

Every conversation dies before it can even begin, and you make no effort to change that.

You don’t want to face him yet.

You can’t.

“Action!”

Fortunately, the day is kind enough to be relentless, dragging you from scene to scene, making it easier to ignore the weight of his gaze, the questions lingering between you.

But as the hours pass, the sun burns hotter, the air grows heavier, and a dull ache creeps into your skull.

It’s subtle at first, just a faint throbbing behind your eyes.

“Action!”

Your limbs feel heavier, your head foggy, the world tilting ever so slightly.

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus.

It’s nothing. Just exhaustion. Just the heat. Just the fact that you spent last night soaking wet in the cold for hours.

“Action!”

You push through.

A hand reaches for yours.

“Hey—are you oka—“

“I’m fine, Caleb.” You snap, finally turning to face him, snatching your touch away from his.

You look over his shoulder to find MC waving for him.

“MC’s looking for you,” you state, turning away just as quickly.

“You don’t look—“

The set sweeps him away once more.

The heat is unbearable. It sticks to your skin, clings to your lungs, burrows into your skull with a relentless pulse. Every sound around you—voices, instructions, the scuffling of feet on set—blurs into a distant hum.

“Action!”

You should sit down. You should stop.

But you don’t.

You push through, following the motions, forcing your body to move despite the dull, throbbing ache radiating from your temple.

The sun beats down harder.

Your limbs feel heavy. Your vision swims.

Something is wrong.

“Act—“

A sudden shift—the ground tilts beneath you.

The world spirals. Your stomach churns—everything is slipping too fast.

And then—a firm grip catches your wrist.

Through the haze, crimson eyes lock onto yours, sharp and assessing.

You don’t understand how, don’t understand why— but subtly, nearly imperceptibly—the sharpness in his eyes narrows, just slightly.

His grip tightens.

“It’s not called a dance if there’s no one to catch you when you dip,” a teasing smirk crawls up his face.

You narrow your eyes, a frown following closely.

“Let me go,” you demand, pulling your hand from his. To your dismay, he does not budge.

Sylus hums, tilting his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering with amusement.

“Let you go?” He scoffs lightly. “Sweetheart, you nearly face-planted in front of half the set. If it weren’t for me, you’d be eating sand right now.”

A flush of heat creeps up your neck—whether from frustration or fever, you don’t know.

“But it did look like you were throwing yourself into my arms just now…”

Your jaw tightens. “I wasn’t—“

“You were.” He grins, lazy and insufferable, before tapping his temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be generous and let you blame it on heat exhaustion. But next time, try asking before you faint dramatically into my arms, yeah?”

A scoff pushes past your lips, hot and irritated. “I didn’t—“

He cuts you off again, eyes narrowing in mock thought. “Actually, should I be offended? You didn’t even call my name. Isn’t that what damsels in distress do?”

He shifts his grip to hook an arm securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your knees wobble.

You slap at his arm. “I can stand just fine.“

“Sure.” He drawls the word out, clearly not convinced. “If by ‘just fine’ you mean ‘barely upright and just one second away from proving me right.’”

Your glare sharpens, pushing his body away from you. However, your body betrays you as your knees struggle to find balance, causing you to lean just slightly into his hold.

Sylus smirks.

“You love proving me right, don’t you?”

You groan. “Just let me go, Sylus.”

Before he can answer, another presence looms in.

“Yn.“

The teasing weight of Sylus’s words vanishes in an instant.

You tense.

The air shifts—sharp, tight, suffocating.

Sylus’s smirk doesn’t falter, but the amusement in his eyes dims, replaced with something much more calculating.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Caleb takes a step forward, his expression unreadable—but his tone isn’t.

“Let go.”

A muscle in Sylus’s jaw twitches as his gaze sweeps over Caleb, the amusement curling at his lips deepening.

“That’s funny,” he muses, low and almost thoughtful.

Caleb’s eyes darken. “I said, let go.”

Sylus tilts his head slightly, gaze dipping back to you.

“Mm.” His voice drops lower, amusement flickering at the edges. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

The tension snaps tight between them—like a drawn blade, waiting to be swung.

You exhale sharply, yanking your wrist away from Sylus. Caleb’s presence itself is enough to push you off the edge, adding the tension between the two and your head splitting in half definitely does not help.

“I’m fine. I can walk. You two have scenes to film—go do that instead of hovering over me,” you mutter, your glare shifting between them.

Neither of them move.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Seriously. I just need some rest. Go.”

Sylus studies you for a beat longer, then— with an infuriating smirk, he raises both his hands in a mock display of surrender.

“Whatever you say, kitten.”

He steps back, turning without another word. But, even if you’ve just known him for a few days, you’re well too accustomed to that glint in his eyes. He’s entertained—like he just witnessed something far more amusing than it should be.

You roll your eyes, turning to leave—only to find Caleb following closely behind.

You stop in your tracks.

“Caleb.”

“You’re sick,” he states simply, as if that explains everything.

You let out an exhausted sigh. “I just need a nap. The sun’s too hot. You have a job to do. Go.”

“I’ll take you to your room.”

You groan. “I don’t need you to—“

“Yn.”

Something in the way he says your name—low, quiet, edged with something almost like a puppy left alone—makes your breath hitch.

You swallow, annoyance and fatigue surfacing your expression.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You start walking. Caleb falls into step beside you, silent. The set bustles behind you, voices and movement filling the space. But between you and Caleb, the silence is louder.

The walk back is slow. The ground beneath you feels unsteady, your legs sluggish with exhaustion. The day had been merciless—your body drained from the heat, the lingering weight of last night clawing at your bones.

“I didn’t,” you murmur.

“You almost did.”

You finally reach your door, the cool AC left running inside brushes away a part of your exhaustion.

The door clicks shut behind you. You turn to face him, arms crossed.

“Alright. You walked me back. You can go now.”

Caleb doesn’t move. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, hands shoved into his pockets. “Kicking me out already?” he says with his usual playful tone, a grin plastered on his face.

“Out.”

Caleb sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just—why didn’t you say anything? You looked like you were about to collapse back there.” He slowly approaches you, placing one hand on your forehead and another on his. “You’re burning up.”

A deep frown crawls up your face, annoyance filling your senses. You swat his hand away, taking an unsteady step backwards.

“Get out, Caleb, I want to be alone.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly, taken aback by your response. A soft chuckle slips past his lips—one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave. Right after I tuck you in.”

You let out a sharp breath, exasperated, but too drained to argue. Caleb takes a step closer, reaching for the blanket, but you snatch it before he can.

“Caleb—“

“You didn’t answer my calls.” The shift is almost imperceptible. His voice is steady, but there is an edge to it—like he is holding something back. His jaw is tense, something unreadable flashing behind his violet eyes.

Your breath catches for half a second and you grip on the blanket tightens, but you school your expression. “My phone was dead.”

“Where were you last night?” His voice is still too calm. Too measured.

You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose, exhaustion pressing into your skull. “Caleb—“

“Do you know how long I spent looking for you?” his tone is lighter than it should be, laced with something almost amused—but his eyes, his stance, the slight clench of jaw betray him. “I ran through the rain like a desperate idiot, calling for your name like a lunatic, only for you to act like I don’t exist the next day?”

His voice isn’t desperate. It’s frustrated.

You don’t know what to say to that. Instead, you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head.

“Yeah? That worried? Sure, Caleb. Sure,” you pause. “Do you expect me to be grateful?” sarcasm drips from your words.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” his eyes narrow.

“No? Then what are you saying?” You cross your arms, a bitter laugh slipping past your lips. “Because I remember calling you. I remember my hands shaking so bad I almost dropped my phone. I remember hearing your voice and thinking, ‘finally.’” Your throat tightens. “And then I remember you cutting the line.”

Caleb stares at you, his expression unreadable.

“I was in the middle of god knows where, drenched like a drowning dog, kneeled down on the road next to some fucking dumpster,” you continue, voice shaking despite yourself. “But it wasn’t a great time. You were busy.” A humorless laugh leaves your quivering lips.

His jaws ticks.

“You know how MC is with thunders,” he says, voice quieter now. Almost defensive. “But as soon as she fell asleep— I didn’t think—“

“Exactly.” Your words are barely above a whisper. “You didn’t think. Had you paid a little more attention, you would’ve known I hated the thunder too.”

Something in his face shifts. His breath catches. For the first time since you met him, he looks like he miscalculated.

The silence is thick, suffocating. His gaze lock onto yours, searching—for what you weren’t sure.

Finally, he exhales through his nose, looking away. His hand grips the doorknob, knuckles paling slightly.

His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “I didn’t know.”

A bitter smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

He remains there for a second longer, a shadow of something you can’t quite place flickering behind his eyes. You inhale sharply, steadying yourself, pressing a hand against your temple as a dull ache throbs inside your head.

“I’m very—very—tired,” you continue, voice barely above a breath. “So just… let me rest, Caleb.”

His jaws tightens. He shifts his weight, like he wants to say something—like there’s something sitting heavy on his tongue—but in the end, he exhales through his nose, slow and steady,

His voice, when he finally speaks, is quiet. Strained.

“…Get some rest, then.”

His fingers twitch at his sides. He slowly place his hand on your head, ruffling it softly—the way that has always brought butterflies to your stomach. His violet eyes flicker, scanning you—your unsteady stance, the way you press against your temple, the exhaustion settling deep in your features. Something flashes behind his gaze. But just as quickly, it’s gone.

He takes a step back. Then another.

He tilts his head slightly, studying you one last time—not with amusement, not with his usual lazy charm or playfulness, but with something much quieter. Much heavier.

“Try not to sleep through dinner, shortcake.” His usual grin flickers at the edges, forced, strained, before turning his heel.

Click.

thinking of Caleb and reader in a modern au. growing up playing video games and watching 2010’s YouTube together.

at school, Caleb is super popular and well liked. he plays sports and does good in his classes, but every afternoon he rushes to the living room to watch the newest smosh or markiplier video with you. doesn’t care if it’s some dumb sketch show or cringy gaming youtube videos, as long as it’s with you.

makes time to play video games on the weekends with you. loves to tease you when you play cod because he’s so good and loves to watch you get worked up over it. but god forbid someone tells you to get in the kitchen and make a sandwich or says you suck in COD, he will make that person pay as much as a teenager can do. oh my god is probably so good at super smash bros, you will never beat him EVER. it probably goes Caleb, Zayne, you in order for who’s the best at Smash.

the only time someone else learns that Caleb knows of all the YouTubers you two watch, is when he gets paired up with another student for a project and make a comment about liking their merch.

it carries over to when you become adults too. going to his gorgeous penthouse and watching dumb ass YouTube videos on his ridiculously huge and expensive tv, still feeling like those teenagers again as you laugh. or Caleb buying you a brand new computer set up after you complain about your graphic card in your old ass laptop not being able to run Baldur’s gate 3.

anyways, secret loser Caleb who loves you so much he would watch anything with you, no matter how cringy. <3

when pussyeater!caleb w a stubble comes to play:

"Please...caleb please! No moree!—"

Your voice was slowly going, tired from screaming and moaning from the overwhelming pleasure that Caleb's tongue was giving you. Your hands bound by a heavy, invisible force, up above your head, your fist scratching against the wall behind you.

Meanwhile, Caleb's mouth was coated in the results your multiple orgasms, his stubble scratching agaisnt your pussy properly. Now if there was anything that Caleb loved to eat, it was you. He was the chef of the house, and you always ate what he made with no refusal, complimenting his work.

He can make lasagna, xiàolongbao, 5 star meals. And you help him sometimes, baking and cooking. Yet his favourite meal is something you make in between your legs. The scent too strong for him to ignore whenever you two ever get in bed, his hands grasping at your thighs.

A dildo, his mouth, his fingers, his dick—no matter what it is, Caleb has to have a one-on-one moment with your pussy. And if you struggle? No problem, he'll tie you up, use his own hands or his evol. Just how it is now.

"One—" he said in between kisses, "—more..." Caleb sucking on your pussy, his tongue swirling around your hole. His lips making out with your soaked folds, you could feel his beard rubbing agaisnt you, making the sensation even more sensitive than it is. Caleb continued to latch onto your cunt, slurping up your juices and moaning into your cunt. His eyebrows furrowed as he savours his dinner, eyes shut in ecstasy.

He realised himself with a small pop! panting, his hands molding your thighs like they were play dough.

'Oh gosh, it's too much to handle, his tongue was too much, his hands, his stupid beard!— every fucking thing was too much! A break— please just one break—'

"Hey hey," With a small swat to your hip, he looked at you from his knees. "There you are. You okay baby? Zoned out on me for a little." Caleb readjusted his position, sitting up straight. With a slurred voice, you replied, humming, "...m'okay...i'm done, i don't have anymore for your–needy mouth.."

Caleb's eyebrow rose, his head tilting as he pretending to think deeply, "Hm..."

You looked down, noticing his hand creeping back down to your thighs, pulling you up the chair so you're not uncomfortable. "How about...we make a deal?"

"...Calebbb..."

"It's not that bad, just oneeee more. Please? I'll be gentle, you can do it pop-squeak, i believe in you." He kissed your inner thigh, gently rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

"That's unfair..." A pout appeared on our lips as you felt that heavy force finally release your hands. Caleb holding your arms as he massages any sort of ache that you might have. "Okay, how about I'll make you anything you want baby if you let me finish my own meal. Deal?"

With a reluctant gaze, you nodded, "Deal..."

That was the best, worst and last deal you ever made with Caleb.

a/n: just a little thing i thought of when eating dinner today

don't steal @aly4khq's work

date made: 21/02/25

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ . COCK SIZE AND THEIR THICKNESS ?!

Thinking about SYLUS’S cock, it’s a sturdy 8.1 inches, Heavy and warm as he positions himself between your thighs, his cock presses against you, sending shivers down your spine. It's thick enough to make your breath hitch, long enough to stretch your pussy until you're gasping his name like a prayer. He wouldn't just fuck you—he'd worship you, savoring every shudder, every moan, every way your body reacts to him, especially when his cock brushes against your clit. “Too much?” His voice is low and teasing, but there's genuine concern beneath it as he watches you, waiting for your response.

You whimper in response, fingers digging into the sheets. Too much? No—never. You want it, want to feel him fill you completely, to be ruined in the way only he can. “More,” you whisper, your voice wrecked with need. A sharp inhale from above, his red eyes dark with hunger. Then a low, approving chuckle as his hands grip your hips, anchoring you in place. “Greedy little thing,” he murmurs. “Then take all of it.”

With that, he pushes inside you, slowly at first, savoring every inch as he stretches your cunt to your limits. You arch your back, gasping at the exquisite pressure, craving more of him. Each thrust is deliberate and powerful, filling you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Thinking about XAVIER’S cock, it’s a solid 6.1 inches, long and thick, just right for making you feel completely filled. He doesn’t have pubic hair. Each thrust brings the head of his cock brushing against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His neatly groomed pubic hair accentuates the smoothness of his shaft, adding a touch of allure that matches his refined, enigmatic demeanor.

“Does it feel good, babe?” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, locking eyes with you as he gauges your reaction. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart race, and you can barely manage a nod, breathless and yearning. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely, each movement deliberate and powerful, stretching your pussy in all the right ways. The friction ignites every nerve ending, and you can't help but moan softly, lost in the intoxicating rhythm as his cock brushes against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As he drives into you, the combination of his length and girth leaves you gasping for more, craving the delicious friction and the way he fills you completely. Each thrust pulls you closer to the edge, and you find yourself eagerly pushing back against him, wanting to feel every inch of him deep inside you, surrendering to the pleasure he brings.

Thinking about CALEB’S cock, it’s a powerful 7.8 inches, thick and deliciously girthy, filling you completely with every thrust. His pubic hair is a bit scruffy, giving him a rugged edge that’s both enticing and inviting. The way he fills you makes your body hum with pleasure, and the sensation has you gasping for more.

“G—God, you feel amazing,” he breathes, his voice rough with desire as he looks deep into your eyes. Each thrust of his cock pushes you closer to the edge, and you can’t help but moan loudly, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he brings to your pussy. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he urges, and you find yourself begging for more, craving the intoxicating heat of his body against yours as he drives deeper, the sensation of him stretching you making you dizzy with need.

“C—Caleb, please, don’t stop,” you manage to plead, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, and pushes deeper, each movement deliberate and powerful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he drives his cock into your pussy, your body responding eagerly to every thrust. “Let me hear you,” he urges, and you find yourself surrendering completely, crying out with each stroke, feeling your climax building with every moment. The combination of his size and the intensity of his movements sends—you spiraling toward ecstasy, and you can't help but beg for more as pleasure washes over you in waves.

Thinking about ZAYNE’S cock, it’s a firm 7 inches, thick but refined—like everything else about him. He keeps himself neatly trimmed, just a hint of dark hair at the base, well-groomed but not overdone. He’s precise in every touch, every thrust, his surgeon’s hands gripping your thighs with practiced control, spreading you open so he can sink into you slowly, letting you feel every inch.

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost clinical, but there’s a rough edge to it, a crack in that cold professionalism that only you get to hear. His pace is measured at first—calculated, like he’s testing how much your pussy can handle. With each slow thrust of his cock, he watches your reactions, taking in every moan and shudder. But the moment he hears you gasp, the moment you clench down around him, it’s like a switch flips.

His restraint snaps, and suddenly he’s fucking you deeper and harder, his cock driving into you with an intensity that steals—your breath away. Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you to the brink, and you can feel your tits bouncing in time with his movements. He relishes the sight, his smirk widening as he sees how much you’re enjoying it.

“Breathe,” he instructs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I want you conscious when you fall apart for me.” The raw command in his voice makes your heart race, and you know you’re about to lose yourself completely in the overwhelming pleasure of him filling you, the heat of his body against yours, and the way he drives his cock into your pussy with relentless precision.

Thinking about RAFAYEL’S cock, it’s a well-owned 6.8 inches, long and just thick enough to stretch you perfectly without overwhelming you. He’s naturally well-groomed, his pubic hair soft and well-kept, a little messy but effortlessly attractive—just like him. There’s a wildness to the way he touches you, a raw passion that burns as intensely as the art he creates. “You feel so damn good,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

His grip is firm as he pulls your hips flush against his, ensuring you take every inch of his cock. His strokes are deep and slow at first, deliberate, as he savors the way pleasure ripples through your body, coaxing you into a trembling mess beneath him. “Rafayel, please—” you whimper, your voice breaking as he presses deeper, his cock nudging right against your cervix, sending electric sparks of ecstasy racing up your spine. “Yeah?” he smirks, his amber eyes burning with a mix of heat and arrogance, a glint of mischief playing at the corners of his mouth. “Then beg for it, babe.”

With your body arching and your voice shaking, you plead for him, desperation lacing your words. And when he hears that need in your tone, he finally gives in, fucking you with all the reckless passion and intensity he's known for. Each thrust is relentless, a fierce collision that pushes you closer to the edge as he drives his cock into your pussy, the pressure building deliciously. His movements brush against your clit with every powerful stroke, igniting waves of pleasure that leave you gasping for more, completely at his mercy as he takes you higher and higher.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

Heartless

Part2 here Pairing: Caleb x non MC reader

Content: jealousy , friends with benefits (kinda) , pwp , inappropriate use of evol powers , metal arm kink (miam😋) , oral (he's a tease) , unprotected sex (p in v) , doggy . (Might be OOC since I wrote this before his release)

Synopsis: jealousy is an awful feeling and it doesn't look good on you Lieutenant . You , the no nonsense and stoic Lieutenant of the farspace fleet . him , The Colonel of this same Farspace fleet . your relationship ? Fuck buddies and cooperators but this feeling of growing jealousy simmering just underneath your skin didn't seem to understand it that way .

A/N: Caleb nations won, blame the edits because BOOMSHAKALA that man is fine.

Now playing: Heartless by the weeknd

Heartless, that's you were or maybe that's what you were trying so hard to be. 

People has always feared you , whether it was because of your appearance or your reputation. After all you weren't known as the merciless lieutenant of Farspace fleet for nothing. 

You were a heartless , emotionless and  cruel monster and you took great pride in that. 

Then why did you felt every vein in your body boils with barely contained rage as you watched Caleb interrogating that girl? 

Yeah , that girl that probably put you in this situation in the first place. 

How you met Caleb was rather unexpected.  A young man full of hatred and desire to protect his loved one. It made your heart felt something you haven't felt for a long time, admiration. You admired him for his resilience,  how he climbed the rank until he was powerful enough to protect his love .

 A love that you envied. 

Though, yours and Caleb's relationship relied purely on lust . You helped him with his plan while he offered you free therapy. By free therapy you mean dick and you'd be lying if you said him rearranging your guts didn't help with your nightmares. 

But now they caused a troublesome issue you didn't want to deal with. 

Jealousy. 

You gritted your teeth at the sight of him reassuring the poor girl through the one sided mirror. 

Pathetic you thought before looking away from this lovesick view that had the bile rising up your throat 

“Lieutenant we'll need your help with-” 

“Handle it yourself” you cut off the poor rookie , your voice as sharp as a dagger before storming off the room. 

“What's wrong with her?” The young man asked in disbelief before turning toward his colleague who just  shrugged , as clueless as him. 

You weren't a jealous person, far from that. You already knew what you got yourself into. You knew that Caleb's heart belonged to someone else already.  Your relationship (if you could only call it that ) was purely professional (and sexual) but it didn't change anything . You had no right over him , he wasn't yours , you weren't his . So why despite telling yourself that over and over , everytime the image of him gently cradling her cheek flashed through your mind it made your jaw clench? 

You let out a heavy sigh before leaning back against your chair , your  thoughts growing more tangled by the seconds. 

She looked ordinary though.  Why would he sacrifice everything for someone with such basic hair? You scoffed internally before mentally scolding yourself for thinking about her in the first place . 

You shook off those thoughts and decided to focus on this stack of papers in your desk instead of Caleb's pipqsqueak 

Pipsqueak , such a lame nickname. 

“Someone seems to be in a fool mood today” you heard his light voice spoke and you mentally cursed yourself at how your heartrate sped up at the sound. 

You looked up from your papers to see him leaning against your doorframe with a small and  almost charming smirk on his face 

“Finally done with coddling your pipsqueak?” You asked in a nonchalant tone thought the underlying hint of irritation in your tone didn't escape him making his smirk widen

“Is that jealousy I hear , lieutenant?” He chuckled before making his way towards your desk and you despised , hated the way he could see right through 

“Tch, why would I be jealous of this weak thing?” You scoffed but the disapproval look he gave you made you almost want to take it back 

Almost 

“She's not weak” he retorted his voice dropping to something dangerously low 

“Whatever you say Colonel Caleb” you waved a dismissive hand at him before shifting your focus back on those damn documents 

“did you come all the way here just to discuss about your pipsqueak?” You couldn't help but ask 

“You're the one who brought her up in the first place” he shrugged nonchalantly unfazed by your snarky remarks 

Touché , you closed the filesyou were starting reading before looking up at him

He had such beautiful eyes , the golden flicker in them reminded so much of what he was in your life . A light that won't stuck around for long. 

“Then why are you here?” You asked in murmur,  your gaze trying its best to not shift toward his lips. Those lips that have explored your body so many times you've lost count. 

“I wanted to check on you” his eyes softened as he uttered those words and you felt for a fraction they might be genuine but no . This was Caleb , not some lover boyfriend of yours . 

“Can't you see I am fine” you snapped,  tone harsher than you intended but it was better that way. 

A flicker of hurt passed through his purple colored eyes but it disappeared as soon you saw it , leaving the cold and heartless colonel you knew. 

Heartless,  that's what you both were. 

“Glad to know that , Lieutenant” he bowed at you before stepping out of your office leaving you alone  with your regrets and confused feelings 

               …*...*...*...*...*...

“No more” you cried out , eyes burning under the harsh light . The knot in your throat growing tighter “please” you begged but they didn't listen , they never did and never will. 

“Please” your vision was blurry with tears , the pain too overwhelming to bear. 

What did you even do wrong? Why were they doing this to you? 

The electric shockwaves crashed over your body , sending flicker of pain everywhere until it numbed every fiber of your being. 

“Please make it  stop” you shouted but nobody made it stop. No matter how loud you screamed , how much you begged , they never did. 

You let out a loud gasp as you jolted from sleep. Your chest heaving up and down from the intensity of your nightmare. 

It's been like this ever since you went under this experiment at 11 . Every night those buried memories would come back to haunt you at night. 

 they stopped when you started sleeping with Caleb but this didn't really occur those past few nights with  how busy you both were .

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed before getting out of it to grab a jacket and your car key to head towards your salvation,  the bane of your existence. 

...*...*...*...*...*...*...

Caleb's eyes widened in surprise  when he opened the door , expecting to find  anyone else behind this door expect you. 

“Lieutenant what are you-” 

You shut him up with a bruising  kiss , lips pressing fervently against his to forget about your torments 

It was like this everytime you had those nightmares , everytime your past would come  back to haunt you , you'd crawl back to him,  clinging onto his presence like a light while he was nothing but darkness himself. 

Caleb, a bit caught off guard at first  quickly melted into your kiss , his large hand cupping your face to kiss you back with the same ravenous intensity. 

Your hands looped around his neck as you lost yourself in his embrace. Just this once. You told yourself knowing damn well,  you'll come back for more. 

Caleb's lips parted from you to catch his breath his chest heaving up and down from the lack of oxygen but the drunken whimper that left your mouth when he pulled away made his cock jump . The needy look in your eyes making it hard for him to hold back .

“Why would you stop?” You whined , straining your neck to try to kiss him again but he denied you , his lips moving to your ear to whisper hotly.

“So you're no longer in a fool mood” he chuckled before nipping softly at your earlobe, pulling out a small moan from your lips 

“Just shut up and kiss me” you scowled at him making his grin widen 

“always so bossy” he murmured before capturing your lips in a heated kiss , lips moving sensually against yours as your tongue danced together. 

Your hands found his hair to tug at the soft strands , the pain making him hiss out through you kiss. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist when you felt him pick you up to head towards his bedroom,  body growing more heated and impatient as the minutes ticked by.

Once you were there , he laid you down on the bed before climbing on top of you , his body covering yours like a warm blanket. Your hands fumbled with his shirt , waiting to get it off him as soon as possible 

“So eager , Lieutenant” he chuckled with that infuriating smirk that made you wanna smack and kiss him senseless at the same time . 

You discarded his shirt somewhere in the room before your hands traced the smooth planes of his body . They slid between the valley of his pecks where you could feel his thumping heart.  An heart that didn't belong to you and never would  .

“What got you so worked up hm?” He asked , taking your hand that was resting on his chest to nip at your finger. The action pulled a small breathy whimper from you that made his lips turn up into a grin

You didn't answer his question,  instead you slipped your hand inside his shorts to palm at his bulge . You face leaning closer to leave open mouthed kisses on his neck. 

The truth was that you missed him but you would never admit that out loud. There was no point to do so . After all he probably didn't care if you missed him or not. 

Your hand found his cock you stroked skillfully until small groans of your name were leaving his parted lips 

“I think” you nipped softly at the bare skin of his shoulder. “I like it better when you shut up” 

You flashed him a smug grin , clearly loving how you had him writhing because of your touch. 

The glare he shot you made your stomach turn into knots , your cunt throbbing his name in Morse code. 

But before you could even recover , he pinned your wrists above your head with his mechanical arm.  His lips now tracing a scorching path down your neck with his feverish kisses 

“And I think I like it better when you're screaming my name” 

His words had no right to have you moaning out loud , no matter how hot they sounded, whispered against your heated skin 

“See” his eyes flicked up to look at your flushed face and dazed eyes through his thick lashes “such pretty sounds you make for me Lieutenant” the teasing lilt in his voice made you wanna kick him to the curb but the way his hands touched you had your hips bucking up against his instead 

“F-fuck, don't” you threw your head back in a whine , eyes fluttering closed at the way he nipped at your breast through your shirt 

"Don't what?" He breathed out against your clothed skin , tongue rolling defiantly around your nipple

“Don't ‘lieutenant’ me not when you're like this” you shook your head side to side in protest 

You always loved to hear people using your title , knowing how hard you worked to earn it but not with him. Never. 

“But I like to do so” he retorted with that same teasing edge that made your panties even wetter  “lieutenant” 

“Oh shit” you panted when you felt him bunch up the material of your shirt to get free aces to your chest 

“You're so mean” you managed to voice out between gasps and moans “are you going to be like this with her too?”  You asked , looking down to see how his whole body went still at your words 

Caleb knew damn well who you were talking about and the mere mention of her name made his jaw clench. the guilt that haunted him even since he made that deal flaring up higher.

“Don't” he warned , every ounce of teasing in his voice vanishing leaving the Caleb you knew and liked .

“oh did I hit a nerve , Colonel?” You fluttered your lashes innocently at him but the wolfish grin painting your lips was anything but innocent and Caleb knew it 

“trust me you don't want to go there lieutenant” he murmured against your skin lips still peppering light kisses on your stomach 

And despite how lightheaded his kisses made you felt you didn't back down 

“What ? afraid I'll find something you might not like” you persisted in your endless teasing but Caleb could only take so much more. 

“Afraid?” He rasped out before sitting up to look down at you. Thought his tone was still light and teasing  the dangerous gleam in his eyes made you shiver “hardly but I guarantee you will once I am done with you.” 

What- 

You didn't even have the time to ponder his words before you felt him manhandle you with his evol until you were laying flat on your stomach with your ass in the air . 

“You're such a sight to behold , my pretty Lieutenant” he whispered,  his voice thick with need and You felt pathetic for moaning like a needy whore underneath him at his praise. 

He wasn't yours and you weren't his for fuck's sake but your cunt didn't seem to understand it that way. 

“So much prettier when you're not being a smartass” he punctured his words with a sharp bite at the top of your thigh that has your head dropping in the pillow in response. 

“Caleb” the world was nothing short than a sinful plea , one that went straight to his dick. 

He continued to pepper kisses all over your thighs, not bothering to even take off your shorts or panties while you were growing restless . 

You pushed your ass against his face , hoping he would get the memo and finally give you what you needed but the bastard pulled your shorts to the side to lick at the wet patch of your underwear. 

The moan that left you was downward pornographic but you couldn't bring yourself to be ashamed . Not when his tongue was rolling around your clit with such defiant ease 

“Oh fuck Caleb” you moaned , your hands fisting the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white 

“Language Lieutenant” he chided playfully , his lips parting from your translucent underwear in a wet squelch before diving right  back in. 

His mouth sent hot white waves of pleasure crashing over you. It was overwhelming but still not enough 

“Please” you begged,  pushing your hips against his face to feel him closer , deeper. 

“Hmm?” He hummed inside your cunt , the vibrations making you throb harder.  

“Fuck me” you looked over your shoulder to find his eyes , the smoldering heat in them making your knees buck. “Please” 

You knew you sounded pathetic begging for him like that but you didn't care. This was Caleb , you didn't have to hold your facade up in front of him, you could be bratty and pathetic as much as you wanted. 

Maybe that's why you always came back to him because in your fucked up and psychotic mind you considered him as your home. A safe place that didn't exist because at the end of the night , you weren't the one his heart and soul longed for. 

You got wrenched out of your thoughts by the cold bite of the metal against your skin as he pulled you up by wrapping his mechanical arm around your neck . Your back now flush against his chest 

“Your wish is my command Lieutenant” he whispered hotly against your ear before finally finally freeing you from your shirt. 

The contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cold metal one against your skin made another fresh wave of arousal coating your already drenched panties 

“You're so sensitive” his voice was a low teasing whisper in your ear as his fingers circled you pebbled nipples 

“Caleb” you huffed , your patience growing thinner and thinner with how long he was taking to fuck you. You needed him to pound you deep in the mattress not toy with your already frayed nerves 

“Patience” he chuckled , his hands  giving your nipples one last flick before travelling down down until they met the waistband of your shorts 

You lifted your hips to help him take them off but he pinned you back down against his lap earning a confused look from you . 

“I like those on you” he just said before slipping his metal  hand inside your shorts to toy with your already sensitive cunt. 

“It looks better than your old uniform” he added as he continued his abuse on your clit the cold metal making your hips buck against him . And if you were in better state of mind you'd probably smack him for roasting your uniform so blatantly  but you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. 

When Caleb felt like he teased yoy well enough for tonight,  he finally took mercy on you and took off those damn shorts along with your drenched panties . And by take off you mean absolutely ripping them to shred off your form. 

“You're so wet already” he groaned while sandwiching his cock between your puffy lips. The friction making him throw his head back and moan. 

“Whose fault? you looked over your shoulder from where your head was resting against the pillow to glare at him but the sight of his flushed cheeks,  half lidded eyes and messy hair made your stomach flip uncontrollably 

“Guilty as charged, lieutenant” he grinned sheepishly before burying himself into you in one single thrust,  the stretch making you both moan in unison. 

He felt as good as you remembered. 

“F-fuck” he cursed lowly , eyes fluttering closed for a moment to savor the feeling. 

You felt so good , like a sweet temptation he keeps succumbing to. At this point the list of his sins keep growing longer and longer but yet he couldn't bring himself to stop , not when you feel this good wrapped around him 

He started a nice and slow pace that quickly turned into something frenzied as he got lost in his thoughts 

This was the last time he convinced himself. The one he belonged to was back in his life, he couldn't keep this up much longer 

But the drunken look you gave him as he literally wrecked your shit made all of his resolve falter. 

No focus this wasnt the plan . But fuck were you going to be the death of him 

His pace  increased , trying to distract you and himself from those pestering thoughts. 

His lips found the crook of your neck , his tongue licking a strip of your neck as he continued to pound into you his broad form covering you completely as he fucked you prone bone. 

The last time you both promised. 

This madness needed to end . 

He continued his frenzied cadence , your sinful moans sounding like music to his ear. His metal hand snaked down to give your clit 3 mean pinches that has you cumming so hard and fast it made your vision tip white for several seconds.  Your body slumping against the mattress as he continued to rock himself into you , chasing his own high as he supported your weight with one arm wrapped around your waist.

Caleb emptied himself inside you with a delicious broken whimper you almost missed with the way you were still floating on a cloud nine. 

His chest was still flush against your back , his sweat slicked skin feeling warm against yours as his hips went completely still. His breathing was low and ragged and despite having reached your high like 20 seconds ago you were already aching for him 

Since this was the last time better make the most of it no ? 

...*...*...*...*...*...

You and Caleb laid intertwined in the bed as you caught your breath after your intense fuck session.  Your hair was sticking on your face while his was madly dishelved from your grip. His head resting in the crook of your neck 

You didn't know what time it was or how long you both been going at it but you knew you needed to leave now . After all he'd have to go find his pipsqueak even if one stubborn,  irrational part of you wanted him  to stay here with you instead .

This is absurd . You sighed internally as you tried to wriggle out of his grip but he tightened his hold around you 

“Where are you going?” He asked in an hoarse voice , his hair tickling your skin.

“Some us have  work to do, y'know?” You rolled your eyes at him in a way that was supposed to appear annoyed but the small smirk on your lips made it really unconvincing 

“You must ?” He asked,  raising his head from the crook of your neck to look at you with those beautiful purple eyes of his 

“I do” you murmured quietly thought you felt a small twinge in your heart  at his slightly pouty expression 

No focus . He wasn't yours . This didn't mean anything. 

“and beside” you added voice lighter than before “you have your pipsqueak to take care of” 

He let out a groan at your words,  his hand letting go of you as you slid out of his bed to get dressed 

“Don't call her that” he glared at you though it lacked conviction 

“You'd have to make me , Colonel Caleb” you winked at him , your defiant tone making his mind run lap and his cock to stiffen slightly 

You minx 

After getting dressed in one of his shirt and shorts (since he ripped yours) you headed for the door to leave. 

It was like this everytime , you'd came to find him , have the most mind blowing sex of your life then leave.  It was like this , no string attached,  no feelings,  no nothing ,Just fuck buddies/cooperators. 

Caleb watched as you left in silence not trusting himself to say anything as you made your way out and closed the door behind you. 

As soon as you left he plopped himself back on the bed before running a hand through his hair 

Just what the heck did he get himself into ...?

-------------------

Part 2 coming soon

@yourlocalcatscammer

Mooooooreee.

pairings: husband!caleb x wife!reader

cw: lactation kink, tits sucking, nipple play, based on this request

If someone were to ask Caleb if ass or tits---he would say neither. Because, personality is more important to him. But, if someone would ask him on a deeper level---he'd pick tits. All the way, no hesitation.

One thing that arouses him the most about you, is how big your tits have become ever since the birth of your baby. He can't help it, it's so plump and tender---makes him want to take a bite out of it. It sits so perfectly behind your clothes and by any chance he'd even get a glimpse of your perked tits spilling whenever you breastfeed your baby.

Sometimes, while breastfeeding your baby you'll catch him stealing glances at you and if you ask him if there's something wrong he'd tell you "nothing." While pretending to be busy with whatever.

And during sex, it surprises you that the first thing he targets with his mouth is your tits. When I say this man is impatient---he damn is. Just right after he has you sitting over his lap---his hands roam every part of your body.

Mostly targeting your tits, perked nipples bulging against the top you're wearing. His hand reached out and gently squeezed it as he watches the fabric of the top getting soaked with your breast milk leaving a wet patch---the sight sends arousal through his clothed hardened cock.

You can't help but let out a soft moan when he does that, feeling something hard poke your clothed pussy under. You felt your aching pussy throb, getting your lacy panties wet---poor you, It's only been two months after the birth of your baby. And now both of you are starting to go back in track of fucking.

Before you could even say something, your husband is already pulling your top up---revealing your plumped tits in display. His eyes screamed hunger as he licked his lips like a hungry man---staring down the strip of milk dripping from your perked nipples.

"Honey- ah-!" You haven't even finished your sentence and his mouth quickly latched onto your nipple. Burying his face against your plumped tits as he sucked and massaged the other one with his hand---rubbing and pinching your sensitive nipple causing it to let out milky liquid as it drips down.

As a result, you let out soft moans and whimper, careful not to get loud because your baby is sleeping in the next room. Your hands soothe his black locks while you try to push him away from you, but he just wouldn't budge.

This hits different for Caleb, because this is no ordinary tits sucking he always does whenever you two have sex. Yes, he does suck your tits all the time---but now it's different, it's the fact that this is after your pregnancy.

The fact that you're able to produce milk. But it doesn't mean he doesn't love to fundle and latch your tits before your pregnancy. Just milk. Milk.

He lets out a grunt in response as he opens his eyes--maintaing eye contact with you while he sucks onto your tit hungrily, he's shameless. He sucks your tit like there's no tomorrow, hot tongue swirling around your sensitive bud earning a twitch from your body.

His eyes are filled with lust, savoring the hot milky liquid against his tongue as he swallowed it. Sweet and milky flavor hitting his tongue and he can't help but whimper, yours just hit different than those store-bought milk you both always buy. He always wants to drink one straight from the source. You.

You mutter him to stop but at the same time your pussy says otherwise---feeling your hips grind against his hardened bulge against his pants. Caleb lets out a soft moan, as he pulls away from your tit--earning a loud 'pop!'. He pursed his lips and hugs your waist with his muscular arms. Then, buried his face between your plumped tits making his cheeks squished against as he lifted his head up.

Oh he's one pouty husband, making you sigh as he gives you puppy eyes while having a strip of your milk dripping on the side of his lips.

"I want more...please?"

Before your baby was born, he was your baby first:(

masterlist

#. URGENT NONSENSE HOTLINE

featuring 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei

fluff + slight suggestive. calling your cop boyfriend while he's in the middle of work, and he thinks it's super important, only for you to ask him the most ridiculous and random questions.

characters aged up to 21 and above. rin and shidou are fathers.

ITOSHI SAE

The police radio crackled in the background as Sae was sitting in his squad car, a rare moment of calm during his patrol. His phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with your name. It was unusual for you to call during his shift, so naturally, his heart skipped a beat hoping nothing happened to you.

He immediately answered, his tone calm. Your boyfriend was concerned more than anything, and if something was wrong, God forbid what was going to happen to the person who dared to hurt you. “What is it? Are you okay?”  

You, completely oblivious to his worries, immediately started talking cheerfully and giggling “Sae! Do you think dinosaurs should still exist? Wouldn’t it be awesome if they came back? Imagine us walking a T-Rex like a dog!”  

Sae blinked, deadpan. There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. You could almost hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process what you just said.  

“...Are you serious?” he finally asked, his voice dangerously calm. Oh, no. You're obsessed with dinosaurs again, and that wasn't good…at all.

“Of course I’m serious! Think about how cool it would be—like, riding a Triceratops to work or flying with a Pterodactyl!” you babbled on, completely oblivious to his growing annoyance.  

You couldn't see but your boyfriend rolled his eyes as he rubbed his temple, leaning back in his seat. His sharp tongue couldn’t be contained any longer.  

“You know they made Jurassic Park for that reason, right? And spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”  

“But that’s just a movie!” you argued. “We could make it work this time! Think of all the science we have now!”  

“You called me—while I’m working—to ask about dinosaurs,” Sae interrupted, his tone flat. “Dinosaurs. You’re aware I have actual, real-life problems to deal with… Like thefts and, you know, crime?”  

“...So is that a no on the dinosaur pets?” you teased, voice now full of sadness and disappointment.

He sighed, muttering under his breath in frustration but unable to help the small, begrudging smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I love you. Now hang up before I block your number.”  

As the call ended, he shook his head, muttering to himself, “Dinosaurs. Unbelievable.” Still, the thought of you having fun with what you will call your "pet" lingered in his mind for the rest of his shift—and he hated how it made him go to the nearest store to buy you a dinosaur plushie.

MICHAEL KAISER

Kaiser was in the middle of gearing up for an undercover mission, his shirt tossed over the back of a chair as he adjusted the strap of his tactical vest. When his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, he hesitated for just a moment before answering. Worry flickered in his eyes—it wasn’t often you called during his work hours unless it was important.

"Mein Schatz, what’s wrong?" he asked immediately, his voice laced with concern. 

You, however, had other plans. “My love, if I hypothetically steal something, would you be the one to handcuff me?”

There was a silence as an answer when he blinked, momentarily thrown off by the absurdity of the question. A smirk began to spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair, half-naked and amused. “Engel, you’ve already stolen something very valuable.”

Your eyes widened on the other end of the line. You stopped twirling your hair, your voice suddenly tinged with worry as though you'd accidentally committed grand theft without realizing it. “I… I did? What did I steal?” 

Kaiser chuckled, the kind of low, teasing laugh that made your cheeks heat up even through the phone. “Yeah, you already stole my heart.”

Your indignant sputtering was music to his ears. He leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table and grinning like the cocky devil he was. “And didn’t we test those handcuffs enough already?" he added, his smirk growing. "Remember last night? You were so curious if they were strong enough to hold you—"

“Goodbye, baby! Good luck with your work!” you interrupted, your voice high-pitched and flustered. 

Kaiser laughed out loud as you hung up, shaking his head in pure delight. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he muttered to himself, “You’re too cute, mein Liebling. Too cute.” With that, he pulled on his shirt, ready to finish work and show you what happens to those who steal and don't admit it.

OLIVER AIKU

Oliver Aiku, a tall, well-built figure with a teasing smirk and hundreds of charms, was leaning against the desk in the bustling precinct. Talking with his partner Sendou, they were deep in conversation about the latest case—nothing too serious, just the usual for the two of them.

The Captain’s voice echoed across the room, pulling him from the moment. "Aiku! You've got a call!"

Oliver rolled his eyes, not exactly thrilled to be disturbed right now in the middle of his break, but he stood up anyway, still chuckling at whatever Sendou had just said about the girl he was trying to woo over. He knew exactly who was calling. A sly smile crept across his face as he picked up the phone.

"Hey, babe. Everything okay?" he said in his usual teasing tone, his eyes never leaving Sendou’s curious gaze.

"Oliver! There's a giant spider on the wall!" Your voice came through the phone and you were more than afraid and before he could even process the words, there was a loud screech from your side of the line. "AH!"

He couldn’t help but smirk. "Girl problems, you know..." he muttered under his breath, shrugging it off, but Sendou was already looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? What’s going on?" his partner asked, clearly intrigued by the other’s business like always.

The tall man leaned back against the desk, casually placing the phone on his shoulder. "It’s my girlfriend, you know? She’s having a bit of a crisis over a spider or something. It's all good, no need to panic."

He could hear you, being out of breath, obviously running away from the spider. "Oliver! It’s huge! What do I do?!" He couldn't help but laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he did, but come on, it was just a spider, you have seen bigger things.

"Doll," he said in a smooth, teasing voice, his grin widening. "Calm down. It's just a tiny lil' spider. I’m sure it’s probably scared of you."

He heard you scream again in the background, and he could already picture you manically pacing around, maybe already booking a plane ticket. “Just grab a slipper or something, take it down like the badass I know you are."

"I’M NOT GOING NEAR IT!" you shouted back, your voice full of distress. Oliver snickered, turning to Sendou, who was still waiting for an answer. "Listen to that. She’s on a whole new level of dramatic. Gotta love her."

He leaned into the phone, his tone turning low and flirtatious. "But, don’t worry, baby, when I get home, I’ll take care of that spider... and you, too."

ITOSHI RIN

It was supposed to be a quiet, ordinary day for one of the top detectives in the department. His desk was a mess of paperwork, and he was deep in the grind—cross-referencing statements, signing reports, and filling out forms. He hated the tedious parts of the job, but he was used to it. Nothing could disturb his focus; nothing but—

Vibration.

He glanced at his phone. Your name flashed on the screen. His first instinct was to ignore it, but a nagging thought held him back. You never called during work unless something was wrong. Still, with a sigh, he answered.

“Is it normal for Mommy to have blood on her stomach? Is my little brother a monster?”

Rin froze. His first reaction was to feel a pang of panic. Blood? His mind raced as he pictured the worst possible scenarios. He knew that voice—your child was watching too many horror movies again, getting himself all worked up.

“Calm down, okay? Where’s your mother?” Rin asked, trying not to sound too angry or demanding with asking questions, he knew how the suspects got away.

“She was in the kitchen and now she has red all over her stomach…” the child explained, sounding more frantic with each passing second.

Rin’s heart skipped a beat as he stood up from his desk, knocking papers to the floor. This can’t be happening, you were in danger and your child sounded more than scared. He needed to be back home immediately. “Stay where you are, do not move,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Turned to his boss, not waiting for a response. “I need to leave. Now.”

Without waiting for permission, he bolted out the door.

His pulse was racing as he sped home, each second dragging on longer than the last. His thoughts were consumed with worry for you and the baby, a fear deeper than any threat he faced in his career. When he burst through the door and rushed to the kitchen, his breath hitched. He saw you—sleeping on the counter, exhausted, a slight stain of red near your stomach. His eyes widened. Was she hurt?

But there was no blood. No danger. Just the remnants of a cake you had been baking, and the food coloring had created the illusion of blood. You’d passed out from exhaustion, nothing more. Your husband sighed in relief, but he heard a small voice behind him.

“Is Mommy alive?”

Rin turned to find your child, wide-eyed and still nervous. The detective gently shook you awake, his hand soft and careful to avoid disturbing the baby to pop out any minute. You blinked groggily, confusion was written all over your face, but then— “The cake!” you exclaimed, ignoring the love of your life entirely. Of course, your priorities had always been… unique.

"Yeah, the cake," he muttered under his breath, trying to keep a straight face as he helped you sit up, ready to take the blame for your child's next internet ban with the horror media.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Blasting music in the police car, sirens wailing, Shidou Ryusei chased down some random robbers, caught them, and hauled them to the station. He was a man of contradictions—a protector of the law who lived for thrills. Sure, he’d had a rough past and even served time as a teen, but hey, life’s full of surprises. One thing was certain, though: not everyone could claim you as their wife, his beautiful partner who was currently calling him for the sixth time.

“Pick up the damn phon—” Your annoyed voice hit his ears as he answered. Meanwhile, he was busy munching on candy he’d swiped from the twins earlier. “What’s up, babe?”

“Shidou Ryusei, are you out of your mind?” Uh-oh, here it came. Normally, your calls were filled with anecdotes about your day, theories about the universe, or updates about the twins’ shenanigans. This, however, sounded serious.

“Hello, my beautiful, amazing, angelic wife~” he drawled, mouth still full. He could practically see your angry, adorable expression through the phone.

“I’ll show you what IS amazing... Are you crazy?!”

“Always. Why even ask?” he teased.

“Why did you took the kids from kindergarten, witht he police car while blasting Gangnam style?” Oh, that. Well, you asked him to pick them up since you were running late, “What’s the problem? Elaborate, doll,”

“The problem?” you huffed through the line, voice rising as he heard someone laughing in the background, probably your kids enjoying your reactions as much as your husband did—some genes are pretty strong. “You traumatized every kid at the kindergarten! The teacher called me, Ryusei! The teacher! She said she’s never seen a police escort used so... recklessly!”

He was still chewing the candy he so kindly borrowed, only half-listening. “Reckless? Nah, that’s called style, babe. They’ll remember it forever. They should thank me for making their day cool.”

“Style?!” you screeched, and he almost felt bad. “Blasting Gangnam Style, sirens wailing, and you had the audacity to throw candy out the window like some... cop Santa?!”

Now he did laugh, the sound loud enough to echo around the block. Some of the people nearby on the street gave him curious looks, but he waved them off. “What? It’s called multitasking. Besides, the twins loved it. They told me I’m their hero. How can I say no to my kids, huh? Their words, not mine, by the way.”

You groaned and for a second, he thought you might hang up. “You’re insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. And stop eating the kids’ candy!”

Caught mid-chew, Shidou smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I swear, Ryusei, if you don—”

“Love you, babe!” he interrupted, his tone cheerful. “And the kids love me too. Don’t forget that part. Now, I gotta go, official police business calls. You know, saving the world, keeping our streets cool.”

“Ryusei—!”

Click.

He hung up, a chuckle escaping as he leaned forward, unwrapping another candy. Moments like these reminded him how much he adored you, his firecracker of a wife, and the twins' choice for sweet treats.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work