Latest Posts by whosregan - Page 5

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

i'm sorry for scaring you

synopsis: caleb shows a new side of himself during one of your fights. it almost makes you believe he's changed.

tags: angst, suggestive (psychologically), fluff (sorta kinda), caleb kneels, caleb crawls, caleb is pathetic, caleb is overprotective and unwell pairing: farspace colonel!caleb x reader word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is angstier than i intended i wanted it to be hot, maybe it's still hot, when he tries to lock u up in his house but he has lethal booboo face ⬇

“I didn't ask for any of this! I didn’t ask for your protection, and I sure as hell don’t want it.”

“You not wanting it doesn’t change the fact that you need it,” Caleb replied blankly. 

In the four months since you’d reunited with Caleb in Skyhaven, your relationship had taken a hit. In the first few weeks, you’d barely seen each other; he’d stop by to check on you, assume you thought him the scum of the earth, and abruptly retreat back home. It wasn’t until you’d grown fed up with the awkwardness and uncertainty that you began approaching him again—asking him about his day, initiating phone calls, and even starting the rare video call, if he was lucky. 

Around the last month or so, things had gotten better. During your increasingly frequent visits, you’d gone out together several times—to see the new cyberpunk action movie, to window shop in the pet store, to marvel at the Skyhaven nightscape from the safety of his personal aircraft. Just as you thought you’d both been making progress adapting to your new dynamic, a wave of highly dangerous wanderers had infiltrated the city, and Caleb had had the nerve to essentially place you on house arrest until the threat was dealt with. Fast forward to now, his composure threatening to overpower your impassioned rebuttals. 

“Did you honestly think I’d let you leave right now?” he asked. “You’re here for a week. The Fleet will take the next couple of days to sort out the problem, and we can go out together when it’s done.”

“We can go out together. Right. So you can rush me back here the second someone looks at me the wrong way?”

“No one will look at you the wrong way. Not here. Not while you’re with me. But you need to understand, Pipsqueak: you came to Skyhaven for me. You’re in skyhaven for me. I won’t stand by and watch you put yourself in danger, and you won’t change my mind,” he replied, his large frame looming over you as he stepped closer. 

You’d had enough. You’d spent almost an hour on the losing side of this back-and-forth, and you were too exhausted to pull your punches anymore. “My first time seeing you after the explosion,” you started, voice trembling. “Do you know how it felt? When you stepped off that plane, when you interrogated me behaving like you never have in your life—I didn’t know what to think. But when you brought me back here? Started spewing off that shit about a world where my only world is you? I was scared, Caleb. I thought I’d needed to be afraid for you, but I was afraid of you. That you’d lock me in this house forever, that I'd only see the sun when you decided it wasn’t top bright for me. I was afraid that I’d die here having grown to hate the person I’d wanted to live for,” you finished, your words dripping with venom.

Seething, you spun around, ready to storm out of the kitchen and into the quiet of the guest room Caleb had remodeled for you. 

You’d taken three steps toward the door when you heard something hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

Body still facing the door, you stopped in your tracks. This was new. Unexpected. You’d been prepared to hear a few calls of your name, some “Wait!”s, maybe even a “Don't walk away from me.” Worst case, you’d expected him to pin you in place with his Evol, preventing your exit and prolonging your fight. 

But a thud? A thud could mean many things. Enough things for you to remain frozen contemplating the possibilities before the voice in the back of your head broke through your thoughts, reminding you of the very real chance that you’d spiked Caleb's blood pressure so much that he’d fainted.

The fear that he was hurt made you finally turn around, only for Caleb to catch you off guard yet again.

Caleb the Loathsome, the overprotective, obsessive, now cold-blooded colonel of the Farspace Fleet, was on the floor before you. Kneeling.

All at once, your anger dissipated, melting into shock at the assertive man before you’s sudden display of submission. 

Realizing you’d turned around, Caleb lifted his head, meeting your flustered expression with his pained one. His furrowed brows, shining eyes, and pouted lips—he looked pitiful, honestly. And as much as it tugged at your heartstrings, it awakened something dormant inside you. 

It made you feel powerful. It gave you an idea. 

Biting the inside of your bottom lip, you took several steps toward Caleb’s kneeling form, closing the distance you'd been so eager to put between you all of ten minutes ago. A slight gasp escaped Caleb at your movement, and he swiftly lowered his gaze back to the floor, as if worried that daring to watch your approaching form would make you retreat. 

When you came to a stop, you were just in front of his knees, looking down your nose at his bowed head. For a few moments, Caleb’s heavy breaths were the only sounds between you, thickening the cold air in the room. 

Then, finally—finally—you touched him, lifting his chin up before resting your palm on his cheek. At your touch, he leaned forward, nuzzling his head against your thigh. 

“…You want this that bad, huh? Want me that bad?”

“More than anything,” he breathed. 

You stared at him. 

“Please,” he whispered, turning his head into your hand to brush his lips across your fingers. 

At this, you hummed softly, running your thumb across his cheek twice before turning away from him once more. When you break contact, Caleb freezes in the midst of rubbing his face on your leg, his eyes popping open in panic. He only calms when he sees you heading for the armchair tucked into the right back corner of the room, slowly taking a seat, your legs spread. 

“Relax,” you call out, settling in your chair. He didn’t move a muscle.

You decided you’d had enough of the tense silence after a few more beats. It was time to test him.

“…Come here, Caleb.”

In an instant, his head snapped up. His gaze, abruptly ending its budding relationship with the floor tiles, held yours for more than a few seconds this time, your slight smirk challenging his slight disbelief.

Caleb had all the cunning in the world. Since joining the Fleet, nothing got by him—and on the rare chance that it did, he’d chase it down and make it beg for mercy. He was a prideful man. He was a calculated man. So when you called for him in your sweet voice, slightly breathy with unadmitted nerves, he figured you out quite quickly. 

You were testing him—to see if he’d walk or crawl to you—and he knew it. 

And unfortunately for his dignity, any reservation he held about the latter was overshadowed by his desire for you: to be in your space, to breathe your air, to be close enough to feel you—even if he rarely did now, out of fear that his touch would repulse you.

He needed you to need him. So he crawled. 

Inch by inch, Caleb crawled toward you, the only person who would ever see him reduced to this. The only person who could reduce him to this. And all the while, as the fabric of his dark pants dragged across the floor, his violet eyes never left yours. In them, you saw resignation. You saw anticipation. You saw the shattered remnants of a pride that he’d let be broken, and you saw them rebuild themselves in lust the closer he came.

A few inches away from you, Caleb stops, sitting demurely on his heels. His hands twitch in hesitation before falling into his lap. His vulnerability is palpable, and you can feel him banishing himself back to his hell of self-deprecation, the guilt-eroded space in his mind where he repeats how little he deserves you. Before he can lower his gaze again, you beckon him upwards,  guiding his palms to rest on your knees. His kneeling form almost equals your seated one in height.

“I used to love watching you scare off the boys who were mean to me,” you tell him, placing your palm back on his cheek. “But as much as I like you intimidating, this little act might be my new favorite.” 

His nervous breaths come to a momentary halt before he brightens slightly, chasing your touch. He nuzzles into your palm like he did your leg earlier, and you sigh. 

“You scared me, Caleb,” you murmur. 

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“I know you want to keep me safe, that you have kept me safe for as long as either of us can remember,” you say, continuing to stroke his head. “But I don’t want to be afraid of you, Caleb. I won't be afraid of you. So if you want to keep doing this, if you want us to move on, if you want me—it can’t happen again. Tell me it won’t happen again.”

Your movements still as you tighten your grip on his jaw, forcing him to meet your eyes. A grimace flashes across his face as he goes quiet for a moment. But you wait for him. You have to. As exhilarating as it’d been to see him crawl before you, this was the true test—if you extend your trust, will he extend his lenience? You have to believe that he will. To give him the chance to. 

And as you’re wrapped up in your optimism, your fantasies that he’ll acquiesce and let your relationship go back to normal, Caleb responds. 

“...I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

Zayne and Caleb having the most normal schedules out of everybody else ...I can't- ...xavier please wake up pookie and why is sylus eating for three hours I'm cryinnn

I Love You More Than You Know [Caleb X Fem!Reader 18+]

CW: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, smut, dubcon, dubious morality, training, incest, praise, rough to soft sex, abandonment issues, angst, grinding, cunnilingus, oral sex, inappropriate use of EVOL -- DO NOT READ IT IF YOU'RE NOT INTO DEAD DOVE FICS. You've been warned.

Summary: Big bro Caleb's a big meanie in bed and he uses his evol on his cute little sister!

WC: 1257 words.

“Oh fuck, baby… just like that.”

Caleb’s eyes rolled back as he groaned, his voice was husky and rough against your ear as he pressed the tip of your cock against your folds—the fabric of your cute little panties damp and clinging to you. He could see the outline of his cock through the thin material that was glistening more and more with each rut of his hips. He wanted to rip the fabric away—to bury himself deep inside of you and to feel your cunny clench around him.  Caleb closed his eyes as his breath hitched. He smeared his pre-cum against your cunny as his fat tip caught onto your entrance as he gripped your hips and dug his fingers into your soft flesh, bending you over as he kept grinding against you.

There was something so hot about all of this—something that turned Caleb on so much… but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that made his tip leak so much. Was it how you were so pliant under him while he was bending you in half? Or was it the fact that you were letting out the sweetest mewls while your face was flushed—all wet and ready for him? 

Or was it because even after all these years of fucking you—training his dear little sister’s cunny to take each and every inch of him, training you to seek that pleasure high, and teaching you to depend on him and him only to get you off and getting wet to the sight of them—that he’s finally made the perfect cockslut for him.

—-

It definitely wasn’t easy at first, you were so young and innocent—he had to plan it al out perfectly so that you were addicted to him at first touch; so much so that you would need him like your body depended on it to live.

Caleb was so gente,  whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making sure that it was both intimate and light, making you giggle with each soft kiss that he pressed upon your skin. He wanted to make it so that your giggles turned into begging—begging him to touch you so that it would just be your big brother Caleb doing you a favor. He was just making you feel good, so why would he ever get into trouble if he was just helping his sweet little sister out, right? 

If only you saw through your fluttering eyes—the smirk on Caleb’s face the first time he kissed your cunny; how you let out the prettiest whimper; your hips subconsciously bucking up to meet his lips—that’s when he knew he had you hooked.

Caleb hummed against your clit, “Mmm, that feels good, right?” He chuckled as he felt another roll of your hips against his lips as he continued, “Such a good girl… yeah? Your big brother’ll make you feel so good… Just promise not to tell anyone, okay? They’ll be jealous of us and won’t let up play anymore, and you don’t want that, right?”

Before you could even shake your head no, Caleb reeled it in even more as he hooked your thighs tighter around his neck. Caleb alternated between flattening his tongue and flicking it against your clit as he lapped at your sopping wet pussy like a starving man that hasn’t eaten in days. He knew he won when he heard your innocent breathy whines… whines that promised him that you wouldn’t tell anyone and how you wanted to feel whatever pleasure he made you feel even more.

—

“Mmfh.. Please, ah-please, Caleb… wan-” You let out desperate whines as you tried lifting your hips up so that Caleb’s cock could finally sink into your ready pussy after sooo long of him just fucking his cock between your lips. But unfortunately, it was futile because your big bro Caleb was just so big and strong that he held you bent in half, not letting you do anything. 

Caleb let out an ‘aw’ as he tapped his cockhead against your clit, letting out an amused huff as he mocked you, “‘Wan?’ C’mon, use your big girl words. ‘m not givin’ you what you ‘wan’ unless you tell me it.”

He was always like this—so mean to you whenever you two were in bed. Sometimes it made you question what happened to the Caleb outside of bed. Caleb would always spoil you with whatever you want, so why was it that he was always so, so mean at times like these?!

“Caleb! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I don’t need you to get me off y’know?” You whined as you tried batting at Caleb’s arm, until you couldn’t.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Not at all.

Caleb suddenly used his evol to keep you exactly in the position he wanted you in; legs stuck on top of his shoulders with your arms  stuck on top of the bed, unable to lift anything up. There was a shift in Caleb’s eyes—one that you’ve barely seen fully; it was a look that told you that you probably should’ve listened to him and told him what you wanted instead of resorting to being childish… but you couldn’t help it. You were hot and needy and he should’ve been a good big brother and given you what he’s always given you. His cock. 

But unfortunately for you, the words have already left your lips, and all the air was knocked out of your lungs as Caleb sunk his cock sharply into your cunny. You wanted him deep inside of you, right? And that’s what you got. His pace was relentless as he thrusted deeply as he closed his eyes, letting out quiet grunts as he just concentrated on fucking you. 

He was too deep into his mind to even enjoy the moans and the feeling of you wrapped around him. He hated what you said—truly. The thought of you hating him… the thought of you not needing him anymore… It terrified him. He couldn’t imagine life without his dear little sister, and the thought of you needing someone else—replacing him with someone else—Caleb gritted his teeth as he thrusted harder into you. 

Caleb desperately smashed his lips against yours, murmuring against your lips as his balls slapped your ass, “You don’t mean that, right? That you hate me and that you don’t need me?” 

Anyone in the world would see Caleb’s questions as something someone would ask before the other would get punished in bed, but you knew otherwise, even though you were completely blissed out, unable to say anything other than to shake your head from side to side, signalling to Caleb that your answer was a no. You loved your big brother a lot and knew that this was a moment of vulnerability. A side that only you got the privilege to see, and you weren’t about to ruin what the two of you had just because you were joking.

Caleb visibly relaxed once he got confirmation that you weren’t serious. He thrusted his hips faster as he was finally able to focus on the pleasure that you gave him. His desperate kiss turned soft and he gently caressed your lips with his tongue, his hips stilling as he came deep inside of your cunny. You needed him just as much as he needed you, and he would do anything for you.

Anything at all.

“I love you more than you know.”

A/N: First dead dove fic :3 Anyways, it's been a longgg long time since I've posted a fanfic, and I just had to go all out, really. Life's been busy, but I hope you all are doing well <3. Feel free to follow my twitter if you'd like if you wanna be moots!

TWITTER | MASTERLIST

I Love You More Than You Know [Caleb X Fem!Reader 18+]

CW: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, smut, dubcon, dubious morality, training, incest, praise, rough to soft sex, abandonment issues, angst, grinding, cunnilingus, oral sex, inappropriate use of EVOL -- DO NOT READ IT IF YOU'RE NOT INTO DEAD DOVE FICS. You've been warned.

Summary: Big bro Caleb's a big meanie in bed and he uses his evol on his cute little sister!

WC: 1257 words.

“Oh fuck, baby… just like that.”

Caleb’s eyes rolled back as he groaned, his voice was husky and rough against your ear as he pressed the tip of your cock against your folds—the fabric of your cute little panties damp and clinging to you. He could see the outline of his cock through the thin material that was glistening more and more with each rut of his hips. He wanted to rip the fabric away—to bury himself deep inside of you and to feel your cunny clench around him.  Caleb closed his eyes as his breath hitched. He smeared his pre-cum against your cunny as his fat tip caught onto your entrance as he gripped your hips and dug his fingers into your soft flesh, bending you over as he kept grinding against you.

There was something so hot about all of this—something that turned Caleb on so much… but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that made his tip leak so much. Was it how you were so pliant under him while he was bending you in half? Or was it the fact that you were letting out the sweetest mewls while your face was flushed—all wet and ready for him? 

Or was it because even after all these years of fucking you—training his dear little sister’s cunny to take each and every inch of him, training you to seek that pleasure high, and teaching you to depend on him and him only to get you off and getting wet to the sight of them—that he’s finally made the perfect cockslut for him.

—-

It definitely wasn’t easy at first, you were so young and innocent—he had to plan it al out perfectly so that you were addicted to him at first touch; so much so that you would need him like your body depended on it to live.

Caleb was so gente,  whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making sure that it was both intimate and light, making you giggle with each soft kiss that he pressed upon your skin. He wanted to make it so that your giggles turned into begging—begging him to touch you so that it would just be your big brother Caleb doing you a favor. He was just making you feel good, so why would he ever get into trouble if he was just helping his sweet little sister out, right? 

If only you saw through your fluttering eyes—the smirk on Caleb’s face the first time he kissed your cunny; how you let out the prettiest whimper; your hips subconsciously bucking up to meet his lips—that’s when he knew he had you hooked.

Caleb hummed against your clit, “Mmm, that feels good, right?” He chuckled as he felt another roll of your hips against his lips as he continued, “Such a good girl… yeah? Your big brother’ll make you feel so good… Just promise not to tell anyone, okay? They’ll be jealous of us and won’t let up play anymore, and you don’t want that, right?”

Before you could even shake your head no, Caleb reeled it in even more as he hooked your thighs tighter around his neck. Caleb alternated between flattening his tongue and flicking it against your clit as he lapped at your sopping wet pussy like a starving man that hasn’t eaten in days. He knew he won when he heard your innocent breathy whines… whines that promised him that you wouldn’t tell anyone and how you wanted to feel whatever pleasure he made you feel even more.

—

“Mmfh.. Please, ah-please, Caleb… wan-” You let out desperate whines as you tried lifting your hips up so that Caleb’s cock could finally sink into your ready pussy after sooo long of him just fucking his cock between your lips. But unfortunately, it was futile because your big bro Caleb was just so big and strong that he held you bent in half, not letting you do anything. 

Caleb let out an ‘aw’ as he tapped his cockhead against your clit, letting out an amused huff as he mocked you, “‘Wan?’ C’mon, use your big girl words. ‘m not givin’ you what you ‘wan’ unless you tell me it.”

He was always like this—so mean to you whenever you two were in bed. Sometimes it made you question what happened to the Caleb outside of bed. Caleb would always spoil you with whatever you want, so why was it that he was always so, so mean at times like these?!

“Caleb! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I don’t need you to get me off y’know?” You whined as you tried batting at Caleb’s arm, until you couldn’t.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Not at all.

Caleb suddenly used his evol to keep you exactly in the position he wanted you in; legs stuck on top of his shoulders with your arms  stuck on top of the bed, unable to lift anything up. There was a shift in Caleb’s eyes—one that you’ve barely seen fully; it was a look that told you that you probably should’ve listened to him and told him what you wanted instead of resorting to being childish… but you couldn’t help it. You were hot and needy and he should’ve been a good big brother and given you what he’s always given you. His cock. 

But unfortunately for you, the words have already left your lips, and all the air was knocked out of your lungs as Caleb sunk his cock sharply into your cunny. You wanted him deep inside of you, right? And that’s what you got. His pace was relentless as he thrusted deeply as he closed his eyes, letting out quiet grunts as he just concentrated on fucking you. 

He was too deep into his mind to even enjoy the moans and the feeling of you wrapped around him. He hated what you said—truly. The thought of you hating him… the thought of you not needing him anymore… It terrified him. He couldn’t imagine life without his dear little sister, and the thought of you needing someone else—replacing him with someone else—Caleb gritted his teeth as he thrusted harder into you. 

Caleb desperately smashed his lips against yours, murmuring against your lips as his balls slapped your ass, “You don’t mean that, right? That you hate me and that you don’t need me?” 

Anyone in the world would see Caleb’s questions as something someone would ask before the other would get punished in bed, but you knew otherwise, even though you were completely blissed out, unable to say anything other than to shake your head from side to side, signalling to Caleb that your answer was a no. You loved your big brother a lot and knew that this was a moment of vulnerability. A side that only you got the privilege to see, and you weren’t about to ruin what the two of you had just because you were joking.

Caleb visibly relaxed once he got confirmation that you weren’t serious. He thrusted his hips faster as he was finally able to focus on the pleasure that you gave him. His desperate kiss turned soft and he gently caressed your lips with his tongue, his hips stilling as he came deep inside of your cunny. You needed him just as much as he needed you, and he would do anything for you.

Anything at all.

“I love you more than you know.”

A/N: First dead dove fic :3 Anyways, it's been a longgg long time since I've posted a fanfic, and I just had to go all out, really. Life's been busy, but I hope you all are doing well <3. Feel free to follow my twitter if you'd like if you wanna be moots!

TWITTER | MASTERLIST

“Come with me to Skyhaven.” His hand on the crib, as he stepped inside the room.

“I will make it up to you, for everything.”

Tears fell down your hot red cheeks. How dare he.

“All this time.. you've been alive and you didn't think once about me?” You speak holding back your sobs.

“That is not true.” His voice stern. “I've thought about you every single moment, every single minute.”

He stepped closer to you.

“I've missed you.” Hot tears streamed down your face to the floor. I've missed you too you is what you wanted to say to him. But the anger and resentment you had towards him held you back.

His hands reached out to your arms, which was cradling the baby. “May I-” “No you may not.” You walked past him, avoiding his touch. Caleb followed behind. “She's my daughter too.”

“Oh so now she's your daughter,” you chuckled through your tears. “You're very selfish you know that? One minute you abandon me and pretend to not know me and the next minute you suddenly want to be in my life.”

“I would never abandon you and you know that.” Caleb's voice was stern but he knew he had no right to be the one frustrated.

“But you did,” you said. “And we..” your voice trembling. “We had to be all alone. How is that fair.” Quiet sobs escaped your lips.

We.

Not just you, but his child as well. You both had to pay for Caleb's consequences of faking his own death. Of course that pained him, to the core of his heart. Yes he did abandon you, but it was to protect you as well. Both you and the baby.

His life became far more dangerous than the one he had before. He's the fleet colonel now. Every mission he takes is risky. He has enemies now. Enemies who won't hesitate to use you as bate to threaten him. But he's not scared of them. Anyone who lays even a finger on you and his child,

He will kill them.

Caleb's hands held both your arms tightly. “I understand if you don't want to forgive me for all that I've done. But know that it was to protect you, to protect our child.” “You didn't even know we had a child.” “I do now.”

He sighed. “Look at me.” He gently raised your chin so that his eyes met yours. “I promise you, I will never ever leave you again like this.” “That's what you always said, that you'll always be by my side.” Tears forming again. “But you weren't.”

“I know, I know but this time it's going to be different. I promise you it's going to be just the three of us, always.”

You heart still couldn't completely let him in, believe in him. “I don't know.”

“Please, one more chance. I'll make up for everything.”

Pt 1

Again not proofread. I don't know how this turned out. I really had no plot in mind for part 2 *sobs* Would really appreciate some its and bits of ideas. (I may or may not continue this so please keep pushing me.)

Tag - @drogonfruitzen @starlightzoey @crowleysthings @melonmelo99 @i-messed-up-big-time @deadbydad @jayzioxx @nezukoo-channn @erensfeed @cordidy @quiet-oracle @subliminalwish @agustdswifey @blipblopblopblip @1marvelsimp @theloveofnagiseishiroslife

Also sorry for making a taglist without asking. If you guys don't want to be tagged I will remove it (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

the crow as… the crow.

"I've got a feeling that now my hair's changed, you're going to start braiding it next."

zayne hates the way you look in a hospital bed.

the sheets are too white, the room too sterile, and the iv in your arm makes his stomach twist in ways he won’t admit. you look smaller like this.

too still, too quiet. it doesn’t suit you.

‘you should get some rest,’ he says, his voice even, professional. detached, like a doctor should be. but you know better. you always have.

‘you’re here again,’ you murmur, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he adjusts the blanket over your shoulders, making sure it covers you properly. it’s a useless gesture because the room is warm, and you’re not shivering.

but he does it anyway.

a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. ‘you should be more careful, doctor,’ you tease, voice quiet but laced with something familiar, something warm. ‘the others might think i’m your favorite patient.’

he should roll his eyes. scoff. say something sarcastic like he always does. but this time, he doesn’t. instead, he just shakes his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looks away.

for a second, you swear he almost says something. but then he pulls back, his hand leaving your blanket, his presence retreating ever so slightly.

you let it go.

it’s late when he comes back. the overhead lights are dimmed, the quiet hum of machines the only thing filling the room. you’re half-asleep when you hear the soft click of the door, but even in the haze of exhaustion, you know it’s him. you always do.

‘you should go home, zayne,’ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. ‘get some rest.’

‘i was.’ his voice is quiet, careful. ‘didn’t feel right.’

‘you care for me too much.’

‘nonsense,’ he said instead. ‘there’s only way too much or none at all.’

you force your eyes open, blinking up at him. he’s standing at the foot of your bed, hands in his pockets, his coat slightly wrinkled like he’s been running on autopilot all day.

‘zayne—’

‘you said something earlier,’ he interrupts, and there’s something in his tone—hesitation, maybe. or something heavier. ‘about being my favorite patient.’

you let out a tired huff of laughter. ‘what, did it offend you? i can take it back.’

he exhales sharply through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not quite nothing. then, after a beat, he moves closer, just enough for his voice to drop into something barely above a whisper.

‘you’re my most important patient.’

the words settle between you, sinking into the space where exhaustion lingers, where unspoken things have always gone unsaid.

you study him, taking in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you.

‘yeah?’ you murmur, softer this time.

his gaze flickers to yours, steady and certain. ‘yeah.’

you don’t say anything after that. but you don’t need to.

instead, your eyes drift to the chair beside your bed. ‘you’re staying, aren’t you?’

he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. with a quiet sigh, he lowers himself into the chair, shifting slightly to get comfortable. not that he ever will. the chair is stiff, unforgiving, and he’s been running on too little sleep for too many days.

but he doesn’t complain. he never does.

you watch him for a moment longer, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes linger on you even as he leans back.

‘go to sleep,’ he murmurs, closing his eyes. ‘doctor’s orders.’

you want to argue, to tell him he should be the one sleeping somewhere comfortable, but the weight of exhaustion is already pulling you under. the last thing you see before you drift off is zayne, slouched in that uncomfortable chair, his breathing steady, his presence unwavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel alone.

because you never knew it. never realized it.

but zayne became a doctor for you.

when you were little and scraped your knee, he was the one who pressed plasters to your skin, his hands careful, his touch gentle. when you sniffled from the sting, he’d ruffle your hair and say, ‘there. all better.’

when you climbed trees too high and got stuck, it was zayne who came running, scolding you under his breath as he helped you back down. and when you fell, because you always fell, he was the one who knelt beside you, wiping the dirt from your palms before you even had the chance to cry.

when you got sick, he was the one who snuck into your house with soup he swore wasn’t that bad, sitting by your bed even when you told him to go home. he would press the back of his hand against your forehead like he had seen adults do, frowning like he could will the fever away just by staying close.

when you started training to be a hunter, he was the one who patched you up after every battle, every wound, every brush with death.

he never once told you to quit, but every time he stitched a cut or wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands would linger, as if memorizing every scar.

and now, when the world threatens to break you, he’s still here.

still taking care of you. still choosing to stay.

you wake up hours later, the room still cloaked in soft, early-morning silence. the first thing you notice is the warmth around your wrist.

zayne.

he’s asleep in the chair, his head tilted slightly, dark circles visible beneath his eyes. his hand is wrapped around your wrist, fingers loose but still holding on, like he fell asleep taking your pulse.

like he needed proof that you were still here.

still breathing.

you shift slightly, just enough to tighten your fingers around his. he stirs for only a second but doesn’t let go.

and neither do you.

Sylus is a proud man. He's got both the strength and the influence to back up his confidence. He knows better than anyone how powerful he is, that's why he never hesitates about anything in his life. When he wants something then he simply has to find a way to obtain it, it's always been as simple as that.

Except, it wasn't like that with you.

You were something that couldn't be placed into a category since the day he met you many, many moons ago.

You were the person who changed everything he was so sure he didn't need to understand and taught an old dragon how to fly by making his heart soar higher than he could ever reach.

But the rule about flying is that the higher you go, the harder the fall is bound to be. And oh did he fall hard.

Still, he could grit his teeth and bear the pain if it meant he would, some day, find you again. In the meantime, he would search for new things to share with you and make himself stronger, better for you.

Sylus is a strong man, but his heart shatters as easily as thin glass. He glues together the pieces each time, well enough that he can go another day without anyone seeing through the cracks, but never quite whole.

There's a room he never allows anyone to catch as much as a glimpse of what lays inside where he keeps the most important piece of his heart.

For the years spent apart, Sylus collected gifts and placed them inside that room he so carefully prepared for you. The piles and piles of wrapped boxes increasing as time continued to pass and he tried to fill the void in his chest by making a home for you.

Sylus never once doubted you'd return to him. However, sometimes, in nights where your birthday weighted heavily in his mind, he'd curl up on the large bed in the room while hugging yet another gift he chose for you. Would you like this one enough to come back to him this time, he wonder.

The tears that escape his crimson eyes are something he'd never acknowledge, being the proud man that he is, but they carried the silent pleas and hopes of a mere lonely dragon, 'Please, my love, come back to me'.

[ Should I do a part 2 for when he meets MC again? 🤔 ]

[ Second part of this because I don't keep my pookies waiting ;) Enjoy my dear Sylus lovers. ]

Sylus is a strong man. He knows that, and he makes sure those who defy him also understand exactly what that means.

However, now that you stood right in front of him, he found himself completely powerless.

Everything else around him seemed out of focus as he stared at you— You had changed, of course, but there was no mistake that his soul recognized that it was truly you.

Your smile was as breathtaking as when he had seen it for the first time and the sound of your laughter made his heart soar in a way it hadn't in a long time. You were even more beautiful than he remembered.

Sylus is not a fool. But he feels rather foolish right now.

Your words, your eyes, your body, your soul were completely rejecting him as he grasped your wrist to prevent you from retaliating again.

Perhaps he had approached the situation wrongly. Or maybe he had been too hopeful, too desperate, about finally having you next to him again.

"It's still me," he wished to say as his crimson eyes searched yours for any sign that you didn't despise his very presence "it's your Sylus."

He acted confident, proud was the man. Except he wasn't. Each jab towards how little you thought of him and the lack of trust between the two of you caused his frail heart to fall apart, one by one the pieces would shatter like glass.

Sylus is a weak man. You molded his heart with your very own hands and now those same hands were the ones crushing it. Was he no longer worthy of your kindness?

He had ripped his own scales, learned how to walk without his wings to support him when he fell and kept his mouth closed to prevent his 'ugly' fangs from being seen. 'Was it not enough? Was he no longer your dragon?'

Still, if only by being a villain in your story is how he is allowed to remain in your new life then he will play the part. He will accept the harsh words and make it easier for you when you need to hurt him.

"Please...Just once," He'd silently plead as you glared at him and pressed the gun further against his chest "look at me the same way you used to. I'm right here."

[ I've bullied my lovely Sylus' fans with my last post so here's my apology <3 ]

Mornings with you are one of his, if not the most, favorite things. Sylus believes he is beyond blessed when he sees your slumbering form next to him after the long, tortuous years he endured of refusing to fall asleep at night because waking up without you was too much for him to bear. Now, as you laid safely in his arms again, his heart felt as if it was overflowing with all the love he held and he wanted nothing more than to give it all to you.

His lips gently press right under one of your eyes, followed by a few other soft kisses to your cheek while one of his large hands carefully wrapped around your throat, guiding your head back towards him. "My love," He'd call in a low voice, almost a purr against your ear. "Mind sparing me a bit of attention?"

You stirred awake but not quite. There was some sleepy mumbling under your breath before one of your hands lazily raised and pat his face, which you had intended to be his head, so he'd be satisfied and let you sleep some more. Sylus could only smile, oh absolutely smitten by your every action was the man. His hand gently grasped the one that was tapping him and brought it to his lips, planting small kisses on each of your fingertips, then the palm of your hand, making his way towards the inside of your wrist where he paused, pressing only a little harder against the pressure point to feel your steady heartbeat.

"I've missed you..." He whispered like a prayer. Those words are something he'd always say, though he'd never elaborate on the real meaning. 'How could you miss me when I've been here the whole day?' You'd raise the question at him sometimes, but the man would do nothing except smile at you, playing it off as mere tease 'Am I not allowed to miss you? How strict you are.' Sylus moved his kisses upwards on your arm, basking in the comforting scent your body had and the warmth you provided him. His heart longed to spend every moment, of every day, connected to you. Until the very last stars burned out and even then, he knew, your souls would stay intertwined, sacredly laced by the promise the two of you shared.

"So peaceful..." He kissed your neck, allowing his lips to linger once again where he could feel your heart beating so he could soothe his own. 'Alive', yes, that's what matters the most to him. "So beautiful." He whispered oh so very quietly against your skin as to not disturb your slumber any further. Instead, he lowered his body to nuzzle his forehead against you, his nose brushing yours in a old, affectionate gesture. Only in moments like these would he allow himself to momentarily forget about how this sweet dream would eventually come crumbling down, as it did once before, and focus on the feeling of security that you, only you, could give him.

'My heart is so full of you...Can it even be called my own anymore?' He silently wondered as his eyes fluttered closed, following you into a quiet and peaceful sleep.

Xavier girlies always seem so soft, until you find out how much they wanted to Outdom Xavier.

One headcanon that I've been thinking about is that, what if Kieran and Luke are Sylus and MC's children in another lifetime.

I know it sounds impossible--but just the thought of it. I really love how quick the twins became close and fond of MC. They're so comfortable when they first met her---like there's something that still holds onto them selves about MC in their past lives.

And you can't deny the fact that Sylus doesn't just see them as his workers---instead, he sees them like they're his kids and he's the guardian.

It's really cute to think about it, dragon Sylus and MC with their baby dragon twins. :((

Innocent Birdcage

(more like visualized Bloodnight Blaze to me UwU)

Attention to detail, and Sylus's beautiful arm

wrath of the sea god

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

♱⋅── about: Rafayel is a creature worthy of worship. Something born from the deep sea, something incomprehensible, something that should scare you. And yet his siren song only lulls you in closer, and you fear it may be too late to even think about running away. (deep sea monster!rafayel)

♱⋅── word count: 5.8k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, inhuman raf, possessiveness, worship, breeding kink, tw yandere, tw drowning, tw teratophilia, tw thalassophobia

art credit to @/hcneyvae on x, dividers by @cafekitsune

psst, if you want more monster!raf read this next

What does it mean, to drown in something?

To watch the surface break above you, disrupted by the last bubbles of oxygen leaving your lungs, like a lover’s final kiss. To feel the vicious urge to fight, to struggle, to scream even as you feel your final dregs of strength escape, leaving you cold and gnawing and alone. To not feel fear, because even as your vision goes dark the melody is still there, the voice still singing, cradling you gently as you draw blood. To know, perhaps, that drowning was the only way this story could have ended. 

What does it mean, when I kiss you and finally feel like I can breathe again, even if you were the reason I sank in the first place?

Rafayel has been nothing if not the perfect boyfriend. Clingy, annoying, hopelessly devoted, but perfect for you nonetheless. 

Three months into your relationship, and you’ve begun to notice things that are only just slightly… Off.

For one, Rafayel runs terrifyingly cold, and the baths he gives himself twice a day are even colder than he is, and when he teasingly splashes you with it you scream, complaining he’s soaking in the arctic or the depths of the ocean’s abyss.

But the approach of summer means more baths, more moisturizers, and more of poor Rafayel always complaining about how it’s too hot, too dry. His skin gets bumpy, rough, textured patches growing on the sides of his neck, his arms, down his ribs too. Like something coming to the surface, something cracking through the flesh. 

The list of anomalies goes on.

His joints bend just a little too much, his fingers curving at unnatural angles when he moves quickly or reaches for something. His spine rolls more like an eel or a shark than a human’s, like a creature still adjusting to having bones, something he brushes off as old habits from dance or ice skating. Whenever you take flash photos his eyes come out hollow, even the faintest glimmer makes them shimmer like something not meant for the surface. 

It’s becoming more common to catch Rafayel slipping now, uncanny moments where he fumbles and slows down, repeating certain movements or habits, as though remembering them. Reminding himself of them. 

You’re lounging on the couch in his studio, your legs kicked up onto his lap as Rafayel holds a book in one hand, the other caressing your ankle with the gentle rub of his thumb. Something prickles against the back of your neck and you look up over your phone, expecting to see Rafayel still engrossed in his reading. Instead, he’s staring down at you. Watching you, unblinking, for so long that your skin begins to crawl. 

At first, you don’t really mind— willingly lost in the warmth of his gaze, the way it seems to hold so much unspoken devotion, the way his pupils dilate viciously when you finally meet his gaze. But then minutes pass. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t break eye contact.

"Raf," you say, laughing a little, trying to shake the unease creeping up your spine. "You're staring."

His lips quirk, just slightly. "Am I? Can’t help it, cutie."

You hum, expecting him to look away. He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, something you’ve always considered adorable, the way his full lips pout and innocent doe eyes seem to plead up into yours, studying you with an intensity that makes your chest tighten.

Then you realize what’s wrong.

"Blink," you whisper, suddenly uncertain if he's forgotten how.

He does, slow and deliberate, like he’s remembering only because you told him. And when his eyes open again, they shine, hollow and flat, reflecting the dim light of the room like something that doesn’t belong in the light.

“Shit!” 

This is the last time you cut steak with a dull knife. 

It’s nothing severe, but you must have nicked a vein in your thumb, because the damn countertop is splattered with blood, a thick stream of it nearly at your wrist as you run for a paper towel. 

Rafayel was supposed to be by the stove, tending to the vegetables busy sauteing, but when you move to rip a sheet from the dowel, you find yourself bumping into him headfirst. How did he manage to cross the kitchen so fast?

His gaze flicks to your hand, brows furrowed. You follow it, noticing the vibrant red already soaking through all the layers of makeshift gauze. Maybe you cut yourself deeper than you though.

"It’s nothing, Rafayel," you say, knowing how worked-up he can get when you injure yourself, fully expecting a dramatic lecture later. 

Turning, you step to throw away the bloody napkins when his fingers close around your wrist too fast. Too tight. Rafayel’s pupils dilate, nearly turning his entire eye black as his body physically follows the trail of blood down your wrist, lips parting just slightly as if—

As if he’s tasting the scent of your blood on his tongue.

"Rafayel," you call to him again, voice shaking. Why is your voice shaking?

He blinks, slow, as if waking from something deep. His grip loosens, but his fingers linger, his thumb dragging just barely across your pulse against the inside of your wrist before he exhales a quiet, low sound from deep in his chest. Something between a sigh and a growl.

“You really should be more careful, miss hunter. You could get hurt next time.”

Neither of you notice the slight acrid smell of something burning in the background. 

The next time it happens late at night. 

After spending the weekend lazing in each other's company, the two of you decided to end the day with a movie, drifting from various positions on the couch to curling up against Rafayel’s chest, the soft glow of the TV flickering across the room. The credits are rolling, low music humming beneath the sound of his steady, rhythmic breathing. He’s cold, almost unnaturally so, compared to the sticky, sweltering summer night air, but you can only be thankful for that fact as his chill and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into something hazy, that liminal space where thoughts slip too easily from your grasp.

When suddenly, it just stops. Rafayel’s body goes still beneath your touch. 

No breath. No movement.

Just complete and utter stillness.

It doesn’t register at first, not fully. Still feigning sleep, you fight to keep your own exhales even, purposefully holding your breath to get your heart to calm from its erratic skip, the hairs on your arms prickling, some primal part of you sensing it before your mind catches up. Wrong.

You shift slightly, pretending to be lost in a dream, just enough to press closer to his chest, to feel the gentle rhythm of where his lungs should be. Wrong.

But nothing comes. Rafayel’s chest does not rise, his heartbeat does not echo against your cheek. The only movement is the gentle circling of his fingers against the tender flesh of your ribs, tracing the curve of bone. Other than that, he is completely, utterly motionless beneath you, the kind of eerie stillness that isn’t possible for a human. A stillness reserved for hunters, for predators. Wrong. 

Something is wrong.

Your pulse kicks, a sharp, violent thud-thud-thud against your ribs, under the tips of Rafayel’s fingers, and in that instant—

Rafayel breathes again.

A slow, deep inhale as if rousing from sleep. His arm tightens around your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt as he shifts beneath you, stretching out his long limbs with an exaggerated yawn like nothing happened at all.

“You still awake?” His voice is drowsy, laced with warmth, so natural you almost believe it.

You nod, pressing closer, trying to shake the creeping chill settling in your bones. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you were too tired, caught somewhere between dreaming and waking, your mind playing tricks on you. You were simply tired from the long week. Simply haunted by nightmares that no longer exist. 

But you feel it. The way Rafayel’s fingers idly stroke over your side, slow and soothing, almost seeking out your own heartbeat as close as he could get to it. The way he breathes too deliberately now, a flawless imitation of what he thinks you expect to hear. A rhythm that’s just a little too shallow, a little too perfect. 

Then, there’s something prodding and coaxing into your brain, and instantly, the feeling of calm returns. But your pulse does not slow, because the thought has already settled in the back of your mind, something cold and certain.

He didn’t start breathing again for his sake.

He did it for yours.

Rafayel must have been sculpted by divine hands. A Greek statue given breath, something carved from impossibly white marble and polished by time itself. 

His is a kind of beauty that isn’t soft or gentle, but arresting, almost violently so. One that makes your breath hitch every time he turns to face you, all sharp cheekbones and full lips, somewhere devastatingly between beautiful and handsome, possessing every muscled curve of a swimmer’s body honed by centuries in the depths. It isn’t just his face, his form, his effortless strength. It’s the way he moves. Angelic and otherworldly— graceful, powerful, always with the effortless magnificence of the ocean itself.

And, of course, his voice.

He hums under his breath sometimes, a habit he seems to be letting slip the longer the two of you are together, barely audible in the quiet hours when you’re cooking or painting or lounging together. At first you mistook it for an old record or the echoing sound of the ocean from the open balcony doors, and when you ask him about if Rafayel simply laughs it off, the sound addicting enough that soon you’re laughing too.

But on late nights after sex you hear him humming again, something absentminded and indulgent, like the sound exists only for his own amusement. And for yours. 

Oh, but when Rafayel sings, it’s something else entirely. It’s after an opera the first time you heard it, and any memory of the show prior is dissolved into a monotonous drivel at the music Rafayel makes. You swear you felt it in your ribs, melody settling beneath your skin, an ancient song that spoke to your soul in ways that left you dizzy and aching and yearning for something you couldn’t name. 

It left you hungry.

And still, Rafayel’s paintings hurt the most.

Each one nearly brought to life with each brushstroke, enough that you swear you can hear the crash of waves or the sharp sting of sea-salt, each one that brings a deep, unknowable sorrow and guilt to your core. Each one hurts to look at a little more than the last. 

There’s one painting in particular that hangs in his studio, larger than the rest. A towering, floor-to-ceiling masterpiece of muted blues and violent reds, brushstrokes slashing across the canvas with all the power of a storm at sea.

At first, you think it’s simply a shipwreck.

Then you’re lured in closer.

Bodies tangled in the waves, limbs limp and reaching. Some still clutching weapons, some are already swallowed by the dark. But every single figure seems perfectly content, relaxed, embracing death as they are lulled—just like you just like you—to the sirens below.

They are not the innocent beauties of fairy tales. They are terrible, glorious, vicious beings. Something between human and god, their bodies half-submerged, lips parted in a song you cannot hear but can still feel, something clawing at your heart, begging you to listen. Begging you to come closer. 

And Rafayel is among them.

It takes you a moment to recognize him, but once you do, you cannot unsee it. The slant of his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheekbone, his lips curled not in hunger, not in rage, but in something unreadable. Something almost mournful.

"Do you like it, cutie?" His voice startles you.

You turn, pulse jumping, but Rafayel’s only watching you with that same lopsided smile, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He looks like part of a masterpiece himself, bare shoulders kissed by the low light, the soft glow catching on his collarbones, his throat, his hands. 

"They were hunted." Not a question.

A laugh. Short, humorless. "Of course they were, don’t you know Lemurians cry pearls?"

Your fingers tighten at your sides, but nothing you could think of saying seemed appropriate. After all, what did you possibly have to offer a mourning god? 

You look back at the painting. "And worshipped?"

Rafayel’s gaze lingers on the canvas for a long moment before sliding back to you, eyes failing to reflect the light of the sun as he tucks himself into your embrace, pulling you close. You swallow hard, body naturally yielding to relax into his embrace. You’re not prey, and yet, something in you screams at you to run.

"Is there a difference?"

You don’t answer. 

You think of the way he moves, the way he sings, the way your breath catches every time he looks at you, the way you could drown in the depths of his eyes, the cloudless blue like the ocean at dawn, stained with a red more vibrant than blood. Like a shipwreck. Like a massacre. 

“Would you worship me, cutie?” Rafayel purrs against the shell of your ear, nipping the tender flesh. Your knees buckle, and you’re already kneeling before him, looking up at those same eyes as he smiles at your answer. 

You already do.

You’ve been noticing gaps in your memory.

Not big ones. Nothing you can really say for certain, just little things, things you used to chalk up to your goldfish memory. Forgetting why you stood up. Losing track of time mid-conversation. Finding yourself already doing something before you even register why.

And it always—always—happens when Rafayel is speaking to you.

It’s never forceful. Never obvious. But there’s always a soft hum in his voice, a subtle pull in the melody beneath his words.

You don’t even remember when he began doing it, and that might be what frightens you most. 

You’ve always been weak for Rafayel, giving in as soon as he pouts and complains about how he might die of neglect, how he just needs you so badly, and how, oh, won’t you do this for him? There’s no command. No sharp pull at your mind, no unnatural force prying into your thoughts. Just his voice, smooth and honeyed, curling around your resolve like the tide creeping onto the shore. Gentle. Patient. And before you even notice, you're waist-deep, sinking into something you can’t quite name.

"Let’s go to the beach," Rafayel suggests, fingers lazily tracing patterns against your thigh.

You frown down at him, in the midst of filling out a hunter’s report when he snatches your computer away, replacing it with his own head plopping down in your lap. 

You glance at the clock, it’s already six pm. Late, not to mention the drive is an hour away. And you have a mission early in the morning.

"I can’t," you say.

He hums, thoughtful. "Mm. No, of course not." He turns his head, pulling your sleep shirt up just enough to kiss your stomach, lips cool against your skin, grazing your hip as he speaks. "But," a pause. A slow, indulgent breath. "Wouldn’t it be nice? Just us. Moonlight on the waves. I could take you out past the shallows, show you things no other human has ever seen."

You close your eyes. You can picture it too easily. The salt in the air, the sound of the tide pulling you both forward. His hands on you, weightless in the water, his voice a hum against your throat. A melody entering your brain. 

"It’s a Tuesday," you murmur, weaker now.

Rafayel begins sitting up, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "So what?" Another to your jaw, "Work is so boring, you don’t need it anymore. Not when you’re with me." You feel him smile, sucking a mark right against your pulse. "It’ll be worth it, promise."

You should say no.

You should.

You should shut out the idea of indulging him, of the welcoming feel of sand beneath your toes and the gentle curl of the tide. And how nice the fading sunlight feels on your skin. Because you’re already standing at the shoreline, waves licking at your ankles, the city far, far behind you. Rafayel’s fingers laced with yours, his smile easy, teasing as he pulls you forward. 

You don’t remember driving here.

Your pulse stutters. "Rafayel."

He turns to you, eyes dark, unreadable, his mouth curving into a wide smile, a sweet gummy one that has too many teeth. Rows upon rows, like a shark’s, gone by the time you blink. "Yes, my muse?"

You swallow hard. The words tangle on your tongue, and you forget, just for a moment, why you were about to say them.

But the worst is when he begs.

Because it doesn’t feel unnatural, it doesn’t feel wrong.

Because it feels good.

You don’t realize how much you’re giving him until your body won't stop trembling, until you’re wrecked and obedient, until he’s cooing praise against your skin like you’re something precious. 

“Can’t–” you sob, barely getting the word out. “Can’t cum again. Please, Raf, Raf, please don’t.”

Your hands scramble for his head, still buried between your thighs, tugging violently against those sweat-slick strands of hair as you all but scream as he whines into your cunt in protest.

You’ve lost track of how many times he’s made you come, lost track of how long you’ve been beneath him, beneath his touch, beneath the spell of his voice. Time means nothing, just a rhythm of sensation and need.

All that you can feel is the hot layer of sweat making the sheets stick to the sharp arch in your back, the painful overstimulation of your clit as Rafayel moves to suckle against it once more, lapping greedily as you kick and push at his shoulders with a cry. You can’t take it, not again, not when you’re already raw and aching and falling apart.

"Just one more time, cutie," he begs, relenting just long enough to kiss your marked-up thigh. "Please? Look s’cute like this, taste even sweeter."

Rafayel’s pale skin glows faintly where his lips brush yours, a ripple of bioluminescence that pulses in time with your heartbeat. The dull blue light blooming along his veins, casting soft, eerie shadows across the sheets, a reminder of the alien beauty woven into his flesh and blood.

You’re sobbing, shaking your head as the entire room spins around you even without the extra stimulation. But Rafayel simply unlaces your poor trembling hands from his hair, unfurling your fists and kissing your palm before intertwining your fingers together, pinning them to the bed as he leans in closer. His hands are cold, an icy restraint to your feverish skin, and you shiver, goosebumps prickling along your arms.

"Last time, promise."

You don’t believe him. You shouldn’t.

But Rafayel’s voice is addictive, liquid gold, sinking into your skin, forcing you to relax against him just enough for his mouth to reacquaint itself with your swollen clit, immediately making you scream again as your hips mindlessly buck, writhing to get away, to find mercy from his touch as you fight to hold onto the last scraps of your fraying resolve.

“Don’t.” His voice is a purr, a low warning against your flesh as his hand tightens, pressing your wrists together, bruising. “Don’t run from me. Don’t make me chase you.”

Your body stills, responding to his command before you can even process what he's said. Surrendering as he hooks your ankles around his neck, forcing you up onto your shoulders as his tongue delves back into your cunt, curling inside you, savoring every spasm, every quiver. It’s a slow, indulgent kiss, his tongue is colder than his lips, drooling and messy as he brings you closer and closer to the edge for the nth time. 

"You’d never leave me right?" His voice once again sings like a promise against your skin. "You can’t. You wouldn’t, she’s too sweet for that—" His nose grinds against your clit and you moan, seizing. "Always so needy, always taking me so well. Practically made to worship me."

You're babbling nonsense now, incoherent. Rafayel coos, kissing you through it, one hand never letting go of yours as the other greedily gropes up the plush of your ass, your breasts, and he watches with rapt fascination as you arch for him. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, and wonders absentmindedly how it is you humans produce milk. How he could get you to do that for him.

A deep trill vibrates through him at the thought, more felt than heard, a sound that curls around your ribs and settles there. 

“You know that you’re mine, don’t you?” he breathes, voice dipping lower, “Mine. Made for me. Nothing else in this world could satisfy you like I do. You’ll never need another god.”

Rafayel’s words slip into you, twisting through your mind, settling like truth in your core. And just like that you shudder, body tensing, and you’re cumming again, hard.

Squirting across Rafayel’s awaiting mouth and jaw as you scream his name like a prayer, cum dripping down his heaving chest. Rafayel moans, lapping at the mess, and you feel his devotion in the way his entire body trembles as he consumes you, as he claims you, his offering, his sacrifice. His beloved bride.

His fingers subconsciously trace your empty ring finger. Worshiping it, memorizing it.

You don’t even realize you’re still nodding as his fingers loosen their grip on your thighs, finally setting you back down on the bed as a pleased little sound spills from his lips. His tongue drags up your limp body, lazy and lingering, kissing every inch of you, bringing your hand up to kiss your ring finger as well.

Nuzzling his face between your breasts, Rafayel looks up at you, eyes glowing, too bright, too colorful, too gorgeously inhuman.

When sensation finally returns to your legs, the haze of pleasure fading and your breath evening out, you’re revolted by the feeling of something releasing its hold on your mind. Shuddering, you press a hand to your temple, trying to shake off the eerie feeling of something slipping out of your head.

Rafayel watches you, tilting his head, his fingers brushing lightly down your arm as he pushes himself up on his elbows. Grabbing your chin, he swallows any questions you might have asked, kissing you with the same reverence he did your clit and every inch of your body before, the taste of you still on his tongue. When he pulls away, his expression is soft, almost tender, even as his hand curls back around your ankle, a possessive shackle.

“You’ll never need another god,” he repeats, the words sinking into your bones, echoing in your mind. His fingers tighten, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Because you’re mine.”

And yet, you’re the one who can’t seem to breathe without him.

You suppose it should scare you, knowing Rafayel isn’t human. Even if you have yet to understand what a Lemurian really is or wants, what Rafayel’s true form really looks like, what or who truly resides in him. 

You suppose it should scare you that despite not knowing any of this, you listen to his every whim regardless. 

The ocean is calm tonight, with the full moon hanging directly overhead and her silver providing the only light over rolling waves. You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, weightless in the gentle pull of the tide, safe knowing Rafayel couldn’t be far away. He never is. 

At least, you can only assume that’s still the case. Since the ocean itself is dark enough that it blends in with the horizon, dark enough that you wouldn’t be able to see your own toes should you stop floating, the only sounds are the gentle crashing of waves on the distant shore. 

Rafayel was untraceable in the water, his powerful twenty-foot-something Lemurian form outpacing yours as soon as he hit the water, cutting through the black waves with a grace that should be impossible for a creature of that size. That was nearly an hour ago, and only an occasional singing that seemed to both surround you and come from deep within the ocean served as reminders that your lover was never far away.

There it is again, that distant sorrowful song, and you try and hum along, not realizing how far from shore you’ve drifted. 

Something brushes your ankle.

Jolting upright, you spit out a bit of salt water from your scare, scanning the horizon as you tread water. Rafayel is nowhere in sight.

Of course you don't even realize he's been circling you, tail cutting above the waves before twisting around your kicking legs. Laughter echoes into the night, sweet and addicting, enough to have your body relax involuntarily into the cold rock of the waves. Enough to send every other sea creature swimming away in terror.

Then, warmth. Hands, familiar and steady, slide up your bare ribs. There wasn’t even so much as a splash as Rafayel swims closer, arms pulling you in tight, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck as you feel the entire length of his tail tighten like a coil around your body. He could drown you before you'd even remember to scream.

Rafayel kisses up your neck, savoring the taste of sea salt, arousal, and fear against the broad, cold length of his tongue. It feels rougher than usual. 

“Need you, cutie.” A trill, something deep and low, vibrating in his chest as his entire body tightens its grip around you. Grinding up against you. “Need you s’bad.”

His voice is a low, syrupy murmur, words dripping into your ear with the same fluid grace as his body winding around yours. You shudder, pulse thrumming as the coil of his tail tightens, the powerful muscle shifting against your skin, keeping you perfectly in place. The realization should terrify you. Perhaps it should terrify you more that it doesn’t. 

But Rafayel’s still nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and jaw as that soft, mournful hum resonates from his chest. The sound vibrates through your bones, familiar and soothing, seeping into your mind as easily as seawater through the crevices of a sinking ship.

You shiver, the sensation of his touch and the water deliciously cold against the heat pooling in your belly.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, turning you so you straddle only a fraction of his enormous tail, clinging to his shoulders and the scales that now rest there. “Hate that you can’t swim with me, can’t see my home.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, the same playful lightness you’ve heard a thousand times. But beneath it lies a deep, aching hunger that has his clawed fingers pressing into your ribs, hard enough to draw blood.

“I-It’s not exactly possible,” you stammer, voice shaking, breathless, the world narrowing to the feel of his enormous body wrapped around yours, the prodding of something slimy and thick between your legs, the soft vibration of his hum still echoing inside your head. “I can’t breathe underwater like you, Rafayel.”

He pouts at that, tail flexing, shifting, and you feel two other appendages begin to caress your thighs, gently snaking around them. Not that you could see what exactly they were, not with how impossibly dark the ocean is, left completely to his mercy. 

“Poor little human,” Rafayel coos, feigning sympathy as his hands begin to wander, cupping and squeezing roughly at your breasts. A constant fascination he excuses for the fact that fish don’t produce milk and thus have no need for such… interesting appendages. “Your silly human body isn’t much fun. Too fragile. I can fix that.”

His words send a chill through you, something prickling at your spine—but then his lips are on yours, firm and insistent, stealing the breath from your lungs as his fingers tangle in your hair. His inhumanly long tongue invades your mouth, rough and tasting of salt and sea, and you melt, hands clawing into his shoulders as he swallows your moan, fucking his tongue down your throat. 

His tail shifts again, something sharp nicking your inner thigh as you gasp into the kiss, only allowing Rafayel to press in closer, deeper, grinding against your core.

Your body reacts on instinct, earning another low trill, hips rolling to meet the pressure, Rafayel’s hands still busy pleasuring your chest as something else forces your legs wider, guiding his cock to grind against you once, twice, fighting the tense ring of muscle as you quiver. 

“Please, cutie. Please let me in, my sweet darling. Please, please,” he’s rambling, begging so sweetly into your lips as you feel the jagged cut of his teeth trace down your neck, collarbone, grazing your nipple, licking up the drops of blood as your flesh splits as easily as rotten fruit on the edge of a knife. “So good to me. Always so good to me.”

You barely recognize the moan that leaves your throat—something needy, desperate. And at that sound Rafayel shudders, something else writhing against your pussy as it suddenly pushes in, thrusting and sucking gently at your entrance before following a rhythm he knows will make you fall apart. 

“Rafayel, wait, cold. It’s cold—” 

“Shh, you’ll warm it up.”

You can only moan in response, clinging onto Rafayel like a lifeline as the ocean surges around the both of you, your limbs trembling and useless as one of Rafayel’s hands goes to circle your clit, matching the tempo of his thrusts as you come undone with a silent scream.

“Say it again for me,” he whispers, reverence dripping from every syllable. His eyes—too blue, too bright—burn into yours, possessive, adoring, hungry. And when he looks at you like that, how could you ever refuse? “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart stutters. There’s a pull, something deep and heavy, sinking into your chest. The hum returns, curling around your thoughts, coaxing you to say the words, to give him what he wants. What you both want.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping past your lips before you even realize it. “Yours.”

Rafayel’s pupils narrow into slits, and his mouth crashes against yours, hungry and savage. His tail tightens, grinding against you with purpose now, every slow roll of his hips sending another shockwave of pleasure through you, something else beginning to press up against you as well as the first intrusion begins to retreat from your poor overstimulated pussy. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, teeth scraping against your pulse, marking delicate skin of your throat. Something under the water coils tighter, pulling you closer, keeping you where you belong.

No. 

“Yes.”

His laughter is the last thing you hear, soft and sweet, washing away every other thought before the roar of the ocean swallows you whole.

The cold is instant, biting, sinking into your bones as the saltwater tears into your nose and mouth. Panic claws up your throat as your chest seizes, lungs heaving uselessly, instinctively, drawing in nothing but seawater.

Instinct demands you thrash, but Rafayel is there, hugging around you like a devoted lover, like a predator with his kill. He drags you down deeper, enraptured, scales scraping against your skin as his body locks you against him, pressing you against the seafloor as the two of you hit the bottom, soft sand floating under your back. 

How easy would it be, to leave you full of his brood and writhing, before dragging you to some island far, far away. 

He’s dazed at the thought, still inside you, still thrusting, still playing with your body as if you aren’t suffocating, as if the way you kick and claw at his back, nails tearing into flesh and fins, is only a sign of pleasure. You feel him shudder, and it isn’t just from the tight, helpless way you squeeze around him.

It’s your eyes that Rafayel can’t seem to look away from. They’re wide, wild, locked on his face with desperate, pleading terror. Adoration. Fear. Love.

So human, so fragile, and all you can focus on is him, the rest of the ocean blurring into a black abyss.

Rafayel adores it, finally being the epicenter of your attention. 

A low, pleased rumble vibrates through his chest, pupils blown wide, swallowing the blue of his eyes until they’re black and endless, reflecting your horrified face right back at you.

All the screaming has left you dizzy, and Rafayel moans, pushing deeper, grinding his enormous tail against your overstimulated clit as your throat convulses around a silent moan as you watch the bubbles leave your throat. 

Smiling, Rafayel’s lips curl, exposing sharp, jagged teeth, feeling each shudder, each pitiful, heaving spasm as your lungs beg for oxygen. He wonders how they must feel, those delicate sacks of air tightening, twisting inside you.

Pressing his palm against your chest, right over your heart, Rafayel feels the stuttering beat as it races then begins to falter, slowing to a delicate pulse under his touch. 

He could watch you like this forever.

Your nails rake down his arms, leaving raw, bloody scratches as the world begins to go dark. He shudders, his cock twitching inside you at the sting, the way you keep fighting even as your movements grow sluggish, your limbs growing heavy. Your chest heaves one last time, and then your eyes leave Rafayel’s, rolling back as your lips part in a silent prayer. 

No. No, don't look away from him.

It makes Rafayel frown, wanting your gaze focused on him alone, wanting your attention back. He wants it forever. His tail coils, possessive, hugging you tight with all the devotion of a human lover as he finally, finally leans in, pressing his mouth to yours.

His hands come down to caress your jaw, fangs nicking your lips as he forces them apart, kissing air back into your lungs. 

And you breathe in again, sobbing into the kiss, body trembling, clinging to Rafayel like he’s your lifeline. You do what he knew you would. You kiss him back. Desperate, dazed, pushing closer as though you don't realize there's no where else you could go, the deep, endless dark of the ocean yawning hungrily above you both. 

He's close, so close now. Body nearly aglow with that eerie, deep-sea light, casting shadows onto your body as you welcome him even now, desperate for warmth, for safety, for him.

“Mine,” Rafayel sings against your lips in a language you cannot understand. Savoring the way you still arch up to kiss him again and again, desperate for his air and his touch despite it all. Despite knowing what he is. Despite knowing what he wants. “My mate.”

When he finally cums he feels it breach your womb, he feels you swell with it, feels it stick with how eagerly your body welcomes him, his perfect little human.

And for the first time, you truly wonder if you were meant to survive loving something like him.

Love Me Through Every Lifetime

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

♱⋅── synopsis: For a Lemurian, there is no greater curse than love. And Rafayel is beginning to understand its dangers, especially when the full moon turns him half-delirious and desperate to claim you as his— in every way that matters.

♱⋅── word count: 6.9k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, pwp, switch!raf, merman/lemuniran heat, mates, breeding kink, oviposition, monsterfucking to keep it simple

♱⋅── art: @/–山渡川–

You think Rafayel might be dying. 

For two days, you have not heard a word from your overdemanding employer slash lover. Waking up around noon without a barrage of texts calling you a “lazy hibernating bear” or “neglectful partner” was unusual enough, but an irregularity you chalked up to Rafayel’s upcoming gallery exhibition. 

But by nightfall, you were confused, and by the next morning, cold dread had begun to creep in. He has still not sent a single text, not a call, nothing. Absolute silence. 

Despite agreeing to attend sparring practice tonight with Xavier, you rush out from HQ as soon as your squadron is dismissed from a mission briefing– you’ll make it up to him later. For now, you keep your Hunter’s suit equipped and reload both your pistols, tucking them into their holsters as you rev the engine of your motorcycle. 

Energy fluctuations always escalate before a full moon, and between the increase in Wanderers and the growing bounty on Rafayel's head, you feel your panic rise, the hollow ring of the moon looming overhead as you speed to Rafayel’s studio, praying that nothing has happened.

Rafayel is a mess.

It’s been centuries since he has last felt this insatiable heat, but to fall prey to his instincts was perhaps inevitable. After all, he’s finally found you again. 

Not only that, but he got too close once more, pulling you in from a stranger to an unwilling bodyguard to a friend and lover. Rafayel supposes he can only blame himself. His Lemurian biology has always keened in your presence, and he sealed his own fate when he finally coaxed you into bed with him. But he doesn't regret it— not for a moment.

However, it has been weeks since the first time the two of you had sex, and yet he still can do nothing but taste you against his tongue, nothing but imagine your face every time you unraveled against him, nothing but want you atop him, beneath him, beside him, so fucking bad he can’t think of anything else.

He had reunited with his mate. 

Of course his instincts now want to make you his, forever. 

Rafayel curses, his clothes chafing against his sensitive skin, making him burn under each suffocating layer before he hurriedly begins to rip and unbuckle each one. He wants you beside him, your touch on him. He wants so badly it burns.

With a groan, he collapses onto the coach, face buried in his hands as he genuinely worries he might die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling through every nerve. Your name lights up on his phone, the light buzzing adding to the countless missed texts and calls on the screen.

Rafayel spares a glance at his phone before chucking it across the studio. He swears he might come from the thought of you alone. 

On cue, the studio’s front door opens with a bang. 

Disregarding protocall entirely you charge in, swinging both your guns around as you shout. “Rafayel! Yell if you’re trapped or injured, or... or just say something!”

There’s a crash behind you, and you nearly shoot, lowering the pistol only when you see a seagull that must have snuck in, topple over another vase, and flee through the wide open windows. 

No Wanderers. Not yet.

The studio is in ruins. Its usual “organized disorganization” would be considered neat in comparison. It looks like a thief ransacked the place, and a hurricane followed suit. Scraps of clothing and swirls of paint splatter across the floor like blood at a crime scene. 

Alarm creeps further into your voice, and you call for him again. “Rafayel! Please say something, anything, just let me know you’re okay.” You creep along the edge of the wall, turning into the main room, expecting the worst: to see him bleeding out, or knocked unconscious, or–

Lying on the couch. 

He’s lying on the couch. 

Sprawled against the cushions, you’re nearly convinced Rafayel is sleeping until you notice the audible rasp in his breathing, skin flushed red in a picture of debauchery. You felt your breath hitch as you scanned him up and down to check for injuries, his billowing shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hips, trail of dark purple hair pathing the way to his hand, which was clawing against his thigh. 

You force yourself to look away, a tremor in your voice. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”

“Stop talking.” Rafayel groans in pain and you holster your firearms before rushing to his side, kneeling by the couch as he flinches away from your body, his hand pressed to the lower half of his face. Your knees brush something rough and you look down, realizing the floorboards have been burned. 

“Your Evol,” panic returns and you reach out to check Rafayel’s temperature. “It’s acting up. We need to get you to a doctor.” Your fingers hardly brush against his forehead before they’re yanked away. Rafayel springs up, clutching your wrist so tightly you flinch, putting as much distance between the two of you as he could without releasing his hold. 

“No.” His chest is heaving, and you hardly hear him over the hand he still has over his mouth, muffling his words. “You need to leave. Right now.” 

“You’re the one holding me.”

Bewildered, Rafayel looks at his arm as though unaware of his own moments. But he makes no move to unhand you.

Slowly, you lean closer, letting your free hand rest against Rafayel’s cheek, gasping at how hot he is to the touch.

Fuck. Your hand is so deliciously cool against his skin that Rafayel can’t help but lean his entire weight against it, nudging his face into your palm as a strangled whine hisses through his teeth. A tug, and you gasp as you’re pulled down, tripping into Rafayel’s lap as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner wrists. 

The position is beyond compromising, especially considering Rafayel’s state of undress. Stumbling forward, your free hand pushes against his bare chest, and you try to free yourself, willing your eyes not to travel any lower to his unbuckled trousers. “Rafayel…”

“Don’t,” he curses into your palm, inhaling deeply before biting. He moans deep in his chest, licking up your fingers, sucking gently at each digit as you feel your body flush. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t move or breathe in my direction either.” 

He continues suckling against your fingers, and you would have snapped at his ridiculous demands if it wasn’t for the fact that you doubt you could form any words at all right now, dumbfounded as a dull heat throbs against your lower stomach. 

As if noticing, Rafayel’s mouth opens with a deep breath, cursing as he goes back to nipping and kissing your wrist. “Fuck,” he laughs, delirious, “I can smell how turned on you are. You– you’re an open book, cutie.”

Rafayel places another kiss to your palm before yanking your arm behind him, and you gasp when his head tilts, lips grazing the column of your throat, words slurred and raspy. His breath is scalding, every gentle brush of his lips against your skin sending your nerves on edge.

You feel dizzy. 

"Don't talk. Don't even move. Just stay- hah - stay with me."

His hands, both his free one and the one pinning your wrists, roam, caressing you as he presses wet kisses along your throat. It is all you can do to hold still, but when he sucks harshly against the pulse point at the base of your neck, a moan slips through your clenched teeth.

You try to squirm out of his grip, but the action only grinds against Rafayel's crotch, and you tense up immediately at the very obvious bulge, hot, sticky fluid already soaking through his trousers. 

The artist nearly sobs at the mere friction, expression a mixture of pained and pleading as he begs up at you. "Stay. Please."

He doesn't mean just for the moment. He means always, for eternity, for every lifetime he’s cursed to live. He’s never letting you go again. 

And you can do nothing but nod. 

You want to help him, really, in every way, endlessly, but taking advantage of him while he’s so helpless and desperate feels wrong. Worry sets in, and you cup his jaw, Rafayel keening into your touch with a whine. “Does this have something to do with Lemuria?”

Rafayel swallows, his hands sliding to your waist and gripping tightly, as though he expects you to disappear at any moment. You can see the indecision on his face, the conflict as he fights the desire clouding his brain. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He tries a second time and succeeds, the words sounding painful and forced even as your thumbs trace his face, caressing every edge and curve. 

"I never imagined this would happen. You’re not- I mean, it only ever happens to Lemurian mates.” He’s shaking beneath you, eyes going unfocused as your touch ventures lower, down his collarbones, squeezing at his chest, tracing his abs, and further still. “I knew you were special, my muse, but not special enough to drive me into heat.”

He’s joking, teasing you, but you can’t help the flush of arousal at that statement. Your brows furrow, the gears in your head turning. You try not to sound too excited, the thought of Rafayel in heat is enough to distract you from the urgency of the situation. Again, Rafayel notices, inhaling your scent as something trills deep within his chest. 

"If you need my help, then you have it. Any way you want.”

Your fingers slide against the hem of his trousers, and Rafayel's breath hitches. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips- you swear his nails are sharper than normal- and a thrill shoots through you at the feeling. You can practically see his control slipping away, the last threads fraying, and he bites into your shoulder with a moan, fangs nipping through the fabric of your clothes.

Rafayel releases the bite and looks at you, expression wild. His pupils are dilated and his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between yours and the mark he's made.

"If you say things like that…" he warns, the hand around your wrist tightening. You can't help the soft gasp that escapes, and Rafayel growls at the noise. He lurches forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth. 

"I-I can't," Rafayel pants. The expression he wears is so unlike him that it's shocking, and you feel your core clench. He's completely unraveled, hair disheveled, clothes torn and askew. 

And, fuck, you swear some of his pheromones must have infected you too, because you can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous- more than usual- a furious pink blush from the tips of his ears down to the mole on his chest you can’t stop kissing, the color a beautiful contrast to his dark locks, now wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead in thick curls. 

His eyes never leave yours, not even as they roll in pleasure, their sunset hues dimmed with an animalistic sort of hunger that makes you shiver with every forceful press of his hips against yours. It’s punishing, brutal, and a violent contrast to the tears brimming in his eyes from the mere friction alone.

You want to ruin him. You plan on it.

"I won't be able to stop.” Rafayel whines, and you can't stop your hips from rutting back against him, the sensation pulling a choked sob from his throat. You swallow the noise with a kiss, the motion so gentle compared to his desperate, frenzied fucking. It's all he can do not to break, his control already slipping through his fingers like sand. “I won’t want to, I’ll fuck you until you can think of nothing else, just me. Only me.”

The idea sends a sharp spike of heat up your spine. His desperation for you is intoxicating, and you know his warning is sincere. He won’t let you go until you tell him to. You should be scared.

But all you can think of is his voice in your ear, begging and crying.

Your voice is hardly a whisper, "What do you need from me, Rafayel?"

"To breed you. To have my pretty human filled with my brood, to fuck you full."

You moan at the vulgarity of his words, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Rafayel groans as he fucks harder against your thigh, his own breath ragged as he tucks his forehead against your neck. 

But the mention of his brood has you nervous, and you gasp the question between moans at Rafayel’s insistent grinding. You don’t know much about Lermurian biology, but between the myths and Rafayel’s teasing, you have a vague idea that makes your head spin.

“How many, ah-” fucking hell, the word seems weird to think of, let alone say, “eggs do Lemurians usually have?”

Rafayel laughs at that, and you nearly sigh at the sound, the familiarity comforting. It isn't mocking, more surprised, and the sound is music to your ears, especially considering the delirious state he was in.

"Don't be silly, love," he teases, but his hips don't stop moving, undoubtedly soaking through his trousers and your pants. "We're not animals, we're civilized creatures."

His tone shifts, the light-hearted nature vanishing in an instant. The words are hissed against the shell of your ear, and a violent shiver runs through you. "I'll fill you to the brim, make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure every creature knows whose bitch you are. You're mine, and I'll mark you however I wish, however many times I must, until the message is clear."

A sharp pinch on the shell of your ear makes you gasp. He bit you. But the pain is gone as fast as it came, replaced with a wet tongue and warm lips. A whimper slips out, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound.

"So, my lovely mate, since you’re so eager, how many eggs do you want?"

He’s mocking you. Brat. 

Blushing furiously, you shove him down, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position as Rafayel whines at the loss of contact, hips bucking into empty air. You can feel his cock throbbing against your leg, and his hand reaches out for you, fingers barely grazing your skin before you roughly push him back down.

You give him a firm look, and the sight sends a fresh wave of arousal through his body, his cock jerking as Rafayel keens and throws his head back, unable to meet your eyes. He’s trembling, and the hand you pinned down flies to his face, covering his eyes as you scowl down at him.

“Alright, alright, ‘m sorry.” He laughs, trailing into a moan as you finally sit back against him. “It depends, our biology doesn’t favor us. We only mate once, and despite going into these seasons our clutches only take once a decade or so. Per season is variable too, anywhere from five to a dozen.”

Up to a dozen. 

A dozen eggs.

In you.

Fuck.

You must have made a sound because Rafayel looks at you with a cheeky grin, and a mischievous glint in his eye. He can smell the want on you, the scent is driving him wild, and you know it. But the realization of your need sends another ripple of desire through him, and Rafayel grunts in pain, writing against the cushions. 

"Fuck, need you. Need you so, so bad." He growls, grabbing your wrist and yanking you towards him. You lose balance, and your knees slide against the couch, falling over him with a gasp. “Need you now. Please, need my mate, need you to be mine—”

Greedy. 

You scoff before his mouth is on yours again, licking up into you.

He's insatiable, and as he presses closer you swear his teeth feel sharper, catching against your bottom lip.

“Poor baby,” you coo, palming Rafayel through his boxers as his eyes roll back at your touch. His mouth opens in a gasp, and you can see the hint of fangs, the razor edge of his canines. They glint in dusk’s low light, and you lean closer to get a better look. Rafayel can sense your interest, and his head lolls to the side, giving you a better view as he bares his throat, a dull blue shimmer now coating the sides, pulsing in time to his racing heart. 

It's a vulnerable position, one he would never allow anyone else to see him in. But you are not anyone, and he trusts you enough to offer himself up, trusts you to protect him as he succumbs to his desires, even if you’re the one that holds the knife. 

And you reward him for his loyalty. 

"Mmm, such a good boy, showing your mate what a pretty mess you are." Your voice is sweet and praising, and you feel Rafayel shudder violently, biting his lip deep enough to draw blood to stop the high-pitched moan that rips from his chest. Then he stills. “Did you just…” 

“Don’t tease,” he bucks into your palm, impossibly hard still in a way that is utterly nonhuman. “Just once more, make me cum once more, and I’ll fuck you properly. Promise.”

You hardly need to be told twice. 

Slipping off the side of the couch, you coax Rafayel to turn with you, settling between his legs as you work at his belt. “Then let me taste you.”

His thigh jumps at that, and Rafayel throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud, his hand already lacing into your hair. 

For all that talk his cock was still surprisingly human-like. It doesn’t look too different from before, still annoyingly well-endowed and leaking violently against the angry purple-red tip. But this time there’s a faint pale blue discoloration around the base, with a shine you can’t tell is a result of his Lemurian lineage or due to the copious amounts of precum he’s dripping down to his thighs. 

Gods, he’s messy.

There’s nothing sweet in the way you fuck him within your mouth, tongue trailing a prominent vein against the underside of his dick until you reach the tip once again. Rafayel goads you forward by pushing and pulling your head with his hand and his almost obnoxiously loud moans and mumbles of praise.

Both of your hands join, one stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and the other massaging against his balls, each one heavy and tense, waiting to spill into something other than your mouth. The slick slap of skin on skin spurs you on, and Rafayel’s hand rips through the fabric on the couch with sharp nails you now feel digging into the back of your neck. 

“I’m almost–” He warns, and you nearly choke in surprise at the feeling of something swell against the base of his cock, a firm, round intrusion that has Rafayel sobbing. Then, he comes again, overflowing down your throat as you force yourself off, thick ropes of cum covering your face and shooting over his bare abdomen and chest, and then more. And more. 

All of that, and he’s still hard. 

Despite the strands of cum dripping between your hands, chin, and his cock, Rafayel still feels no relief. The bulge against the base of his cock inflates more, and he trills, a deep sound akin to whalesong deep in his chest. 

“It’s no use, I need…” A breathy moan, and Rafayel yanks you both to your feet. “Ocean. Now.”

His words devolve into incoherent rambling, and you nod, dragged alongside him as he clings to you like a child, his weight nearly toppling you both over as his knees buckle. You catch him, but his strength is inhuman, and even with the help of your Evol he could crush you.

You are his.

You will finally be his.

Rafayel’s grip around you tightens, and a possessive growl rumbles against his throat. He needs to feel you against him, inside him, his instincts screaming to mark you in every way conceivable. 

The studio's back doors lead directly to the beach, and the summer night breeze hits Rafayel with a delicious chill against his burning skin. The air tastes of salt and brine, the scent familiar and comforting— the smell of home.

The ocean is as gorgeous as it is terrifying in the midst of night. The roar of the waves and the silver reflection of the full moon are the only things illuminating the vast darkness before you. Yet Rafayel shows no such fear as he tugs you further along the beach, kissing and nipping and groping at you endlessly as he strips you of your clothes, his own following suit. 

"You'll regret leaving me after this," Rafayel whispers, pressing his lips to the pulse of your neck. 

"Silly fishie," you murmur, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever leave you?"

He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You figured he was simply being overdramatic yet again, but Rafayel refuses to meet your eyes, smiling in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty.

“Of course, silly me. Why would anyone ever leave me?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair, preening. ”I’m perfect.”

You scoff, shoving him gently as you roll your eyes. Of course he would be cocky right before getting his brains fucked out.

"Well, you are quite pretty for a fish."

Rafayel laughs, deep and rumbling in his chest, a contagious sound that has you laughing too, until the cold spray of the ocean hits you with a light mist. The crest of another wave surges against you, curling around your bare ankles and knees as the tide ebbs and flows. Rafayel spares you one last teasing grin before running further into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a splash. 

You can’t help but feel nervous as you watch and listen for a break in the sea, knowing when your lover emerges, he will be a wholly different being than the one you’ve memorized every curve and edge of. 

But you want him to know you’ll accept him regardless. No matter how scaled or fish-like or ugly he may become. 

As if testing you, your mind conjures up a horrid fish-monster complete with swampy hair and a shark’s face before you chase the thought away, shaking your head violently. There’s no way a man as gorgeous as Rafayel could turn into a creature so hideous… Right?

Regardless, you’d help him. Regardless, you’d stay with him, love him. 

This you vowed.

And the ocean listens, seafoam curling around your ankles before it retreats, carrying with it your promise into its depths. Keeping it. 

A splash breaks the surface of the waves and you squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you see the outline of a man, cutting through the waves with a dull glow, as if parting the waters themselves. 

“Surely you don’t plan on making me wait any longer.” Rafayel complains, “Join me, my muse. My heart.” 

His voice coaxes you forward, and like a sailor drawn by a siren’s call, you walk further into the ocean. Each soft wave crashes higher against your legs until the salty spray hits the bare skin of your stomach, and you flinch from the chill against every sensitive part of your body. 

Finally, he’s close enough for you to see everything in the evening glow, and your breath leaves you entirely. 

He’s still your Rafayel, the mischievous glow against his duochromatic eyes reminds you of that much, but there’s a vibrant blue glow to them, a clearer blue than the ocean itself, one that freckles down his neck and body with bioluminescent markings. There’s also that familiar pointed smile he still wears, only, at the upper corner you catch the glint of fangs. Even longer than before. A splash, and your attention snaps behind him, where an enormous tail flicks impatiently out of the waves, a pale blue rippling into the color of the ocean’s depths, complete with purples and blues so dark it could be night itself. 

Dragging a hand across his cheek, you press your forehead against his own. “You’re gorgeous.” 

Rafayel’s pointed ears heat up, and he can hardly stop himself from succumbing to his instinct begging him to take you, to lure you into the stormy depths and to fuck you until you lay writhing, full of his brood on the seafloor. 

Instead, he lets you explore him, his new body, and what remained of the man you knew. Drunk on his siren’s call, you are pulled closer to him, waves lapping at your chest now as you trace the swirls of purple, vermillion, and gold markings dancing down his chest, scales of the same hues following down until the warmth of Rafayel’s skin turns to the cold, smooth feel of scales and he gasps against your touch. 

One moment you’re standing against the waves and the next you’re dragged back to shore, pinned against the sand.

“I’m sorry, I promise you’ll have more time to ogle and worship my body another day.” You scoff, about to throw a snarky reply when Rafayel presses his tail between your legs, yards of it still tailing behind the two of you as you’re effectively pinned. “But right now, I need to breed my pretty little mate full.”

You whine, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he can babble any more nonsense. His lips taste like seafoam and smoke, and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his tail begin to roll into your hips, the motion smooth from the foreign texture of his scales and your own dripping slick. 

“Ah, you’re going to have to…” Almost embarrassed, Rafayel’s hand leaves yours, trailing down his own body as he prods against the underside of his tail. Curious, your fingers follow his own, finding a spot where the rough scales turn soft and smooth, a seam that feels like muscle, and within it, an equally wet slit. “There.”

You’re too desperate to even tease him, working your fingers in gentle circles until you ease one in, stroking the smooth velvet of his walls until both of your fingers can slip in. Then, something bumps against your fingers, prodding as you help coax it out. 

Rafayel groans, his enormous body convulsing as he presses against you. “Hurry up.” He grinds harder, nearly pulling you deeper into his slit. “Hurry up, hurry up, you’re taking too long.”

Rafayel has always been a demanding lover. But not like this. Not like he might actually die if he isn’t inside of you right at this very moment.

You huff, amused. Why not make him suffer just a little more? 

“What do we say when we want something, Rafayel?”

“Fuck. You are impossibly cruel, can’t you see I’m already suffering and yet still you make an effort to be so–” You curl your fingers up, knuckles roughly knocking against his still-sheathed cock. You very well almost come undone at the face he makes, twisted in pleasure as his eyes roll back, jaw slack with a high-pitched whine as he arches into your punishing touch. “Please! Please, ah, I’ll beg. I’ll beg, I’ll- fuck - I’ll fill you so well, I swear, just let me breed you.”

How could you say no to something so sweet?

Finally pulling his cock free, your breath catches at the sheer weight of it, heavy against your stomach and at least two inches longer and rough to the touch, ridges slick with how badly he’s leaking as you feel up and down his tapered length. But, unlike back at his studio, this liquid is clear and leaves pinpricks against your palm, almost going numb as he spills and drips onto your skin. 

Rafayel gasps, “Antispastic. It’s muscle relaxant to keep our mates comfortable and pliant for us.” 

Comfortable and pliant. You suddenly feel the very opposite, especially when you remember the end goal of this mating session. 

“Shh,” Rafayel coos against your ear as though hearing your fears, his fingers already working against your entrance as he whispers sweet nothings and praise into your ears. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt any more than you want it to.”

And with that his fingers retreat, grinding his enormous form closer as you feel the nudge of his cock against your core, pushing in with the help of the gentle rocking from the waves, tapered tip making the stretch easier. 

You wince and Rafayel immediately kisses you, distracting you with his tongue before he hilts himself in one brutal movement, pinning you down as you thrash in protest. The pain only blinds you for a second, and then the relaxant does its work, filling you with a warm, tingling feeling that almost has you floating. You let out a garbled plea and Rafayel coos in response, lacing his fingers with yours. 

Despite already being fucked deep within you, Rafayel’s hips rut insistently against yours, pushing and pushing until you can feel the round bulge at the base of his cock grind against your clit, making you cry into his lips. 

Every ridge on the side of his cock catches deliciously against your walls, and you arch off the beach, your legs twitching against Rafayel’s tail until he lifts one up, nipping against your ankle and calf before hooking it over his shoulder, still suckling at the delicate skin around your inner thigh.

The intimacy of it all scares you. 

For the past month Rafayel has been insatiable, as if once he finally got you in his bed he never wanted you to leave again, always finding a way to lure you on top of him or trap you underneath, the perfect picture of lust. Regardless, it would always end with fast, frenzied fucking. But not like this. 

Not with him slowly rocking into you, pulling back until just his tip remained before grinding all the way in as he whispered songs in a language you could not understand. Not with him intertwining his fingers with yours and watching your every reaction with utmost receptiveness and adoration. Not with him kissing away your tears as you come undone. 

But for Rafayel, this was long overdue.

After all, he’s chased you throughout every lifetime, forsaking his people, giving up his heart, and vowing himself to you time and time again despite knowing how it ends— how it always will.

Your face goes slack at your sudden orgasm, but Rafayel helps you through it, one hand unlacing from yours as he thumbs your clit until your shudders subside. He whispers, not caring that you’re still too fucked-out to hear. “I’m not a patient man, you know. I’ve been waiting for centuries. And now you’re here, you’re here and you’re all mine.” Another kiss to your forehead before he feels that uncontrollable heat rise again, letting it take over. “I’m never letting you go again.”

When you come to the first thing you feel again is the rhythmic pounding against your sweet spot, and you writhe against the sand with a violent gasp. Desperate for some sort of relief, your hands push at Rafayel’s chest, futilely trying to force him back or at least get him to slow down until another particularly rough thrust has you sobbing, clawing at his arms and shoulders.

But Rafayel hardly seems to notice. He’s lost himself entirely, eyes glazed over as they fixate on where his cock bullies into you, muscles across his back and tail pushing him forward with a force that makes you scream. Fueled by your mindless whimpers, he forces his cock in deeper, chasing his release so he can finally, finally fuck you full. 

Rafayel also doesn’t last long, his third orgasm hitting him violently enough that he nearly collapses on top of you, purring against your throat with a trill that comes from deep within his chest. His fangs dig into the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he continues to come, rope after rope coating your cervix, filling you with a warmth alongside the muscle relaxant. You nearly come too, almost uncomfortably wet, slick enough that even the monstrous ridges alongside Rafayel’s cock slip deeper and deeper inside you with terrifying ease. 

Again, he moans something in another language, a series of clicks and purrs rumbling from his chest, eyes dark and unfocused as he forces you to look up at him. “You’ve been so, so good for me. Pretty little mate needs to be fucked full though, ya? Need to be filled with my brood?” You don’t even realize you’ve come at his words, something else squirming against your clit below his swollen base. Rafayel licks your tears away, tongue nonhuman as its length curls around your cheek, moaning at the taste of your sweat, arousal, and seasalt. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll defy your silly human biology, make you a mommy.”

Fighting to prop yourself up against the sand, you reach down, hand trembling as it thumbs against Rafayel’s slit once more. But this time, something else has begun to emerge.

Rafayel sobs against your neck, keeping what you now realize is his first cock buried greedily inside you, unwilling to pull out by any more than an inch. Drunk off of him, you messily press two fingers into his slit, hiking your legs further up his shoulders to give you better access to where the two of you are joined against the splash of the waves. 

Dipping your fingers in, you inhale sharply at the squirm of something rough, thumbing the coil out as it writhes and curls into the warmth of your palm. his second cock is not, well, it’s a tentacle for lack of a closer human anatomical reference. All ridges and scales as you coax it to a similarly monstrous length as the first, but thicker, writhing as though possessing a mind of its own.

And right below it, you feel the obvious bulge against Rafayel’s tail where his eggs are. 

You’re suddenly very, very grateful for the Lemurians’ natural muscle relaxant. 

Despite the slick practically leaking from you, you still tense as the tip of the tentacle dick begins to flick and tease at your already full entrance, not giving you a moment to breathe before it begins pushing in alongside the first. It pokes and prods enough to have you whimpering before Rafayel holds your thighs still and thrusts, forcing both his cocks in to the hilt.

It feels impossible. It shouldn't be possible.

But the way he fits is perfect, a tight, burning stretch, the ridges along his first cock and the suctions on the second bruising you in ways that make you scream, vision going dark around the edges as Rafayel moans into your ears. Your cunt feels abused to the point of numbness, the pain dissolving as your mouth hangs open, jaw slack as nonsensical babbles and pleas fall from your lips. 

And, fuck, Rafayel doesn’t even bother waiting to let you regain your sanity before his two cocks start pistoning in and out of you, the bottom one curling and stroking against the first, effortlessly brutal along the slick walls of your cunt. His fangs ghost along the shell of your ear as he splays his huge, slightly webbed hand across your lower belly. 

"How deep am I?" He rolls his hips again, rougher. You cry as Rafayel’s weight forces you to tuck further under him, nearly folding you in half as your legs press against his tail. "Can I go deeper? Can I? Please, please, please—" 

You gasp, mewling and writhing as you feel the bottom cock begin to squirm again. Bullying its way into your cervix, it thrashes violently against that spongy spot inside you that has your vision spinning. Rafayel is fairing no better, losing the capacity for human speech altogether, moaning as his cock finally breaches the tight ring of muscle, fucking into your womb.

Even through the haze, legs numb and twitching, your body still convulses in protest as you feel the bulge pressing against your clit begin to move. Rafayel shudders right as it does, clawed hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forces you impossibly closer. The bottom cock twitches, coaxing your womb open, and you moan as you feel the bulge creep forward.

This should hurt, it should horrify you, and yet it only breaks you in ways that will ruin you for any future lovers. Not that you ever plan on leaving him. Not after this. 

Rafayel thrusts one last time, waves raging around you as he does so, and you nearly sob as you feel the bulge shift up his length, dragging slowly against your walls until it presses against your cervix. Even then you only cry in pleasure, nails digging bloody crescents into Rafayel’s shoulder as he does the same against your thighs, the antispastic doing its work in keeping you deliriously wet and pliant. You roll your hips desperately against your lover, and the sudden shift in position forces the first egg beyond the tight barrier, falling into your womb.

Gods. It feels heavy, it feels wrong, it feels so fucking good you come again with a silent scream.

Rafayel swallows every noise with a messy kiss, his serpentine tongue curling around your own and sucking, nearly fucking itself into your mouth as you get lightheaded from both the lack of air and the press of his second egg already at your entrance. You sob into Rafayel’s lips, greedily moving your hips against his own, forcing him in further before he obliges, shoving your thighs further apart until your knees touch the sand too. Then you feel the weight of the second egg bump against the first, overwhelmed as the next has already begun stretching you full again. 

The two of you are reduced to little more than animals, helpless fucking and licking and moaning against one another as the eggs come one after another, again and again and again until your womb feels bloated and abused, the feeling euphoric thanks to the copious amount of relaxant and cum already flooding you. Rafayel’s bottom cock convulses after depositing the seventh egg, its tip finally wriggling out from your cervix’s vise grip against it, sucking and soothing your abused walls as you come once again, sobbing and numb to the pleasure-pain.

“Perfect,” Rafayel coos against your lips, rutting insistently inside you as his fingers lace with yours, forcing you to feel the taunt skin over your womb, the bulge obvious and hyper-sensitive. “You did so well, my perfect little mate, you deserve a reward don’t you?” 

Unable to form words, you nod, your entire body trembling as Rafayel laughs, thrusting his hips again, each one sharp and punishing against your overly-sensitive cunt, pelvis smacking your clit as your vision spins. He trills, a shudder overtaking his enormous body as his scales glow, pale blues and deep purples flicking violently down his skin and tail as the waves crash around him, continuing until he comes inside of you. It’s endless, the warmth coating every aching surface of your cunt up until your poor stretched womb, hot and thick as you feel Rafayel futilely attempt to keep it all in you with his dicks and then fingers. 

What does end up squirting back down your thighs and onto his abdomen is lapped up by the ocean, and the waves offer a cool relief as Rafayel finally pulls out and collapses onto the sand beside you. You feel simultaneously horribly empty and heavy, something Rafayel takes note of as he pulls you against him, humming into your neck and wrapping his arms around yours, careful not to place any pressure against your sensitive middle. 

He groans against your ear, and you turn in panic, only to see him back to his human form, the only evidence left of his tail the deep valleys against the sand where it once rested. You immediately regret moving, however, as the weight against your womb lurches you off balance and you moan before stilling yourself on your side. Holy fuck, how long will this last? 

“R-” your voice is raspy and you wince, “Rafayel?” 

He hums in answer, already kneeling beside you before lifting you easily in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he litters butterfly kisses over your forehead and nose. “What you said about the, um, fertilizing thing. These won’t actually hatch, will they?”

Again, Rafayel laughs, pressing his nose against the top of your head as he inhales. Another giggle. “Maybe.” You hit him. Hard. “Ouch, meanie. No, even with all of that there’s hardly a chance Lemurian clutches take. Not to mention you’re a human, so therefore not our necessary host.” 

You choose to let his provocative word choice go over your head and sigh in relief. Thumbing gently against the bulge of your lower stomach, you lean further into Rafayel’s chest, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart thumping in time to the crash of the waves. 

“But,” Rafayel sings the word with a playful lit. “If any of them do happen to fertilize, we can just fish them out before they hatch.”

“We can what.”

Gods, what did you get yourself into?

Blue Lock art~💙

CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of swear from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an unexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asked am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow azure in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, ge.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”

MC, laying in bed: Get out of my room.

Caleb, standing just outside of the door frame: I’m not in your room.

I fear i am no longer capable of being normal about this

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

Synopsis: MC gets kidnapped by Caleb for “protection”, but little does he know about her true feelings of dependency.

CW: NSFW, fem MC, Caleb and MC are red flags, angst, kidnapping, easily overwhelmed and crybaby MC, codependency, obsession, surprisingly fluffy smut ?, dry humping, fingering, p in v.

English is not my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so I apologize for any mistakes.

MDNI

The silence was overwhelming.

There wasn’t even a single noise in that dark space, devoid of any sensation. At least, that's how she felt, her weak breathing was almost inaudible. The sighs would never reach her ears. She shivered, even though it wasn’t cold, she couldn’t contain the emotions that were slipping through the cracks. The girl was in a comfortable bed, with a warm blanket and a lot of pillows, just how she liked it. But, nothing could comfort her at this moment. She delighted in the nothingness, disconnecting herself from all of her senses.

“Knock knock”

She took a few moments to process the sound of steps. She was alone for so long that she didn’t think anyone would show up for at least a few more hours. The girl took a deep breath, coming back to her senses with a wave of sensations. The fabric of the sheets, the cozy smell that felt like home, the steps, the tears running down her face… her breathing. The sounds were getting louder as she prepared herself mentally. She knew who was coming. She wasn’t ready to face him.

And in a moment, there he was, his feet unmoving in front of the door as he locked it again. The girl was not brave enough to look at him directly, her emotions were a mess and she didn’t have the capacity or the time to process them correctly.

“You haven’t eaten anything.” An affirmation. That was the first thing that left his mouth for what felt like years. She held her breath for a second. The man sounded worried, she knew there was a lot of weight behind those words and felt her shoulders tense. He wanted to see her fine and healthy, and it was exactly this worry that brought her to this situation. She couldn’t say that it wasn’t nice to be the object of his attention. She liked it… she liked it a lot more than she should. That’s exactly why she was so confused. He didn’t have to do this, to go this extreme. She didn’t mind being alone with him, being locked up with him. She wanted to be the only thing he needed, just like she only ever truly needed him and nothing else. So why…? Why is it that he didn’t hold any trust in her feelings?

She nodded and hummed in response, with her head held down. She tried to conceal her face, red with tears, but knew it was futile. He would notice. He probably already knew.

“You need to eat well, pip-squeak” he said her nickname with a heaviness to his tone, a deep sadness that she couldn’t tell with precision where it came from, but it was certainly related to the situation at hand. “I’m not hungry.” she answered in a weak voice, and they went silent. She couldn’t read his expression while looking down, so she had no idea about what he could be feeling. It was nerve wracking. She couldn’t bear this distance, but his lack of belief in how strong her feelings were truly hurt her. She wondered if he felt the same, if he was also itching to get closer, both emotionally and physically.

“I know you are probably angry at me.” He started talking. “But… I had to do this, I had to protect you.” Was this an excuse? Did he truly wish for her protection and that was his only motive? Or did he want… more? Did he have a want, or a need, to have her stay by his side? To keep her enclosed and warm, near and at his disposal at every hour of the day? Was she thinking about her own wishes as she wondered this? She couldn’t tell anymore. It was selfish, yes, but humans are full of selfish needs at the end of the day. She didn’t want him. She needed him. And she wanted him to need her just as much, but didn’t know exactly if his actions meant that he did or meant that he felt like she was useless and incapable. Just an annoying “little sister” type of girl that he thought was dependent on him. If that was the case, he was at least right about one thing. She truly was dependent.

“I’m not angry, I’m just frustrated.” She said abruptly and loudly, finally meeting his eyes. He was looking at her, but at a safe distance and looked quite taken aback by her sudden outburst. “I feel betrayed Caleb, I don’t feel like I’m being understood or seen by you. Not really.” She looked away for a moment, hesitation starting to rise in her throat but quickly being replaced by anger and pent up feelings left unsaid. “Why have you felt the need to do this? Don’t you understand?” She was throwing a fit, almost screaming as she cried and moved her hands at a faster rate than he has ever seen her move while talking. Shocked would be an understatement to express how he felt.

“I don’t get it! I just don’t! Do you truly see me as someone who needs protection? Because that’s wrong. I don’t need protection! I need you! I need you so badly it hurts, and I need to be with you all of the time, I need to consume you and have you and make you mine. But I can’t! And you just keep pushing me away like this, making me doubt myself and doubt your feelings. And I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of this, Caleb.” She started sobbing, tears streaming down her face while she wailed loudly and pathetically. She truly felt pathetic.

“Princess, I-…” He felt a pillow smash into his face, ruffling his hair and catching him off guard. Was she really acting like a child right now? But he knew her, he knew she could get overwhelmed easily and didn’t know quite how to deal with her emotions but, well, neither did he. He wasn’t expecting this, he didn’t think that she felt that way, that she felt so strongly about him. He thought about it sometimes, thinking about maybies and possibilities, but at the end of the day, he never dared to think it was true. She would never want him as much as he needed her, right? He picked up the pillow from the floor, and stepped closer bit by bit, waiting for her to calm down and for his heart to stop beating so fast. The rush of adrenaline was slowly fading away, and deep embarrassment was taking roots in its place.

“I’m sorry… Caleb I don’t know what came over me…” He motioned for her to stop talking.

“It’s okay… I’m… sorry too.” He spoke quietly as he finally stopped by her side, standing up next to the bed. He was getting closer hesitantly, wanting to comfort her but not having the words to express himself. He thought that if he said too much in this moment, it could make her even more anxious and overwhelmed. So he knelt down next to her, pushing a strand of hair away from her face, and slowly getting closer and touching his forehead to hers. A gesture that always made her calm down. The feeling of his breath, his heartbeat. Having actual living proof that he was real and standing so close to her made her relax her tensed shoulders. After being locked up for a while, she could finally feel his skin against hers again. Even without words they could feel the meaning of this touch. A silent “I’m sorry, you mean too much for me to lose”

“I’m sorry but I can’t keep it in anymore… I love you Caleb, I really do. And it’s killing me seeing you so distant.” She said quietly, almost like a whisper. “I love you too, maybe more than you could ever realize.” Her heart skipped a beat. “I just never thought that you could forgive me, it felt like you hated me for not being the same boy that I was.” He sounded almost scared, like this was all a dream he would wake up from in the morning. “I could never hate you. Sometimes I feel hurt by your actions, but It doesn’t matter because… I want you in every way. In each form or facade you create I will always need you with me.”

Maybe he was always like this.

Maybe she was always like this.

Her hands were tugging at his shirt, so tightly so he could never leave. His breathing hitched on his throat as he felt her slowly pressing her body more and more against his chest. It seemed like she was trying to suffocate him, from how strongly she held onto him. She lifted herself up slightly, sitting on his lap while hugging him with a death grip. They sat there for a moment, feeling each other's warmth and heartbeats.

“Well… even if you apologized, I have to say… what you said was pretty interesting.” Breaking their comfortable position, Caleb lifted her chin, making her look directly into his eyes. Her eyes were watering, and her face was flushed. She looked like a little surprised deer, she wasn’t expecting him to bring this up again. “But I thought you said it was fine.” She said sheepishly, shifting slightly in place, making him shiver. He winked at her, as a way to comfort her, and to assure he wasn’t being completely serious. She understood and waited to see what he would say next. “I might forgive you, if…” he said teasingly “If…?” She repeated, curious and slightly hopeful. “If you say it again.”

He grinned. “Tell me about how muuuch you need me.” She stopped the hug, moving away from his chest and crossing her arms. “What do you mean? I won’t do that! I already said more than enough.” She said that, but felt a warm feeling in her stomach. She loved it when he talked like this, but after the embarrassment from earlier she wasn’t ready to admit it.

“If you won’t do it then I will~” he paused, and looked her in the eyes with a serious expression. “I love you. I always wondered when I thought about you, if you were also thinking about me. If you felt the same way… if this constant need to have you in my life was not a weight I carried alone. You are everything to me. Without you, there is no me, there is no Caleb.”

She felt the weight of his words resonate with her as he slowly lowers the distance between their faces. His thumb caressing her lower lip before he finally brushed his lips against hers. The kiss started agonizingly slow, like he was testing the waters to see how she would react, but she was getting impatient. She grabbed him by his hair and forced him harder against her, deepening the kiss and exploring his mouth. Getting another confirmation of her need, Caleb started getting bolder. Hands roaming each other's bodies as they shared this heated kiss. From the shoulders, to the waist, to her thighs. His hands explored her body, getting to know her once again, learning about her curves and what made her shiver and gasp. He gripped her thigh, which made her grind closer against him as the pressure she felt on her lower region tightened. The kiss left her breathless as he hungered for more, more of her. She felt him getting hard against her, and it only turned her on even more. She had dreamed about this, about seeing the effect she had on him, making him hard and with his breathing unsteady in just a few touches. He grabbed her waist as he guided her movements, making her grind against his clothed cock with fervor.

“Caleb… Please…” She said, breathless against his ear. “I need more…” she whined against his lips. “Then say it. Say that you need me.” His eyes had a different glow to them, more possessive. She liked it a lot. “I- I need you. I need you badly, and I need you to touch me more because I am yours and only you can make me feel like this.” He smiled, with his cheeks flushed and suddenly lowered her body on the bed, looking at her up and down, trying to memorize every part of her in this moment like he often did. Clothes fell on the floor, hastily thrown away. Their eyes and hands wandered on each other's bodies, and they felt right, as if they were made to fit one another. Caleb’s hand brushed her skin until it reached her wet pussy, teasing her in different ways until he found the places that made her squirm and breath out his name so naturally that it made his chest hurt. He felt… amazing. It was as if he finally drank the purest water after years of thirst. It was better than he had imagined many times, because it was her. It was real. And it was finally happening. It was a rush of emotions and sensations. Warm skin touching warm skin and their smells intertwining as she kissed his neck and gripped his muscles. She sighed and moaned while his fingers explored her pussy in a sensual rhythm, he felt overwhelmed with love and a primal need intertwining as he watched the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“You are doing so good for me… taking my fingers so well.” He said and kissed her forehead. She threw her head back while pleasure washed over her, closing her eyes and moaning his name repeatedly as she came. She was in complete bliss, earlier worries only feeding the excitement she felt. She finally had him. After taking a few deep breaths she murmured “Caleb I need you… more…” she dug her fingers into his arm, as if trying to find a way to break in, and looked at him pleadingly, apparently not done yet. She wanted nothing more than to have him deep inside of her, for both of their pleasures, yes, but mainly for wanting to be together in the truest sense of the word. “Can I…?” He asked, positioning his throbbing erection between her thighs, teasing her entrance. She nodded and kissed his shoulder, pulling him closer. He groaned as he thrusted, heart swelling with happiness to have her completely but with a bitter feeling of… regret for his actions? Maybe? He couldn’t quite tell at the moment, but the only thing that truly mattered was her… finally being inside of her and chasing that high together. Their mouths met again in a passionate kiss, stealing the others' breath away in an instant. He fucked her in a slightly erratic rhythm, their bodies tightening until they released. They hugged each other tightly, not wanting to let go.

Yes, she was dependent but she thought that maybe… The feeling was mutual.

⋆˚🐾˖°𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 🐕 COSMIC LEASH ?!

⋆⑅˚ paring : zayne, rafayel, sylus, xavier & caleb x puppy fem!reader

⋆⑅˚ synopsis : Trapped between them, you whimper as they tug on your leash, making it clear you’re nothing but their obedient little pet for the night.

⋆⑅˚ warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, size kink, humiliation kink, leash play, hair pulling, chocking, spanking, gagging, dacryphilia, nipple teasing, dacryphilia, rough s*x, power play, dom & sub dynamic, light degradation, overstimulation & other stuff!

⋆⑅˚ note : banner art by @/rororo_mg on X , also not proof read really sorry ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა ! Also dunno if this was ooc for rafayel 🧍🏻‍♀️

．－ 𝒵𝒜𝒴𝒩ℰ （the best fucker?!）

Zayne’s grip on the leash tightens as he yanks you forward, the collar around your neck pulling you closer to him. You can feel the tension in your body—both the leash and the anticipation tightening in your core. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam as he moves behind you, his hand brushing over your tits, squeezing them roughly before dipping down to grasp your clit between his fingers. You moan, but the sound is cut off when he pulls the leash hard, choking you just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Such a good girl,” he growls, his cock already hard and pressing against your back, his body looming over you. His hands move to your nipples next, pinching and pulling them until you’re gasping, knees weak. His fingers circle your pussy, teasing at your entrance before sliding in with brutal ease. “Look at you, all needy and wet, just for me.”

The sensation of him deep inside you makes your eyes water, a mix of pleasure and pain as the leash pulls tighter, forcing your head back. His hands on your tits grow rougher, his cock pushing deeper with every thrust. You can feel the sting of his choke, the suffocating pressure making you dizzy as he pounds into you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Your puppy eats flattening as you whined.

“Z-Zayne—” your voice catches as the leash jerks tight again, cutting off your words. Your hands tremble where they rest against the floor, barely keeping you upright as he keeps you in place, his cock stretching your pussy with every deep, ruthless thrust.

“What? Can’t speak?” His voice is low, teasing, and cruelly amused as he watches your lashes flutter, your breath hitching from the pressure on your throat. “Poor little puppy. Just let me fuck you dumb, yeah?”

You whimper, nodding quickly, cheeks burning with shame. It’s too much—his cock is thick, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, and his hands won’t stop playing with your tits, squeezing them, rolling your nipples between his fingers like he’s trying to make you cry.

“Sensitive here too,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue over a hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth. You gasp, your back arching, ears twitching as his teeth graze you. It’s embarrassing how loud you are, how easily you melt under his touch. You try to stifle a moan, but Zayne just tugs the leash tighter, forcing another strangled sound from your throat.

“You're shaking.” He groans against your skin, his lips hot against your tits as he nips at them, sucking harder. “Gonna cum already? That desperate?”

You shake your head frantically, but the way your pussy clenches around his cock betrays you. He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your wrecked expression—eyes glassy, lips parted, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Cute,” he murmurs. “Now be a good puppy and cum for me.”

Then he thrusts in harder, tightening the leash just enough to steal your breath, and you break—crying out as your body seizes up, pleasure slamming through you in waves. Your walls clamp down around his cock, your clit throbbing, and Zayne groans as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

Zayne doesn’t stop—not when your body shakes, not when your pussy clenches down so tight around his cock it feels like you’re trying to keep him inside. If anything, he seems to enjoy watching you struggle, the way your small frame trembles under the weight of him, your breath coming in short, choked gasps as he tugs on the leash again.

“Still so fucking tight,” he groans, dragging his cock out of your drenched cunt just to slam it back in, making you cry out. “You can barely take me, puppy. Look at you—your little pussy’s stretched around me, and I’ve barely fucked you properly.”

Your ears twitch at the humiliation, your cheeks burning. He’s right—his cock is too big, stretching you wide, filling you so deep it makes your stomach bulge with every thrust. You’re dizzy from the way he’s handling you, his grip unrelenting, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You try to speak, try to beg for mercy, but all that comes out is a broken moan. Zayne chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw and forcing your mouth open. “That's it. Keep your mouth nice and wide for me.”

Then he shoves his fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, making you gag as he fucks into you even harder. Your eyes flutter, throat constricting as you choke around his fingers, drool spilling past your lips. He watches with a smirk, his other hand keeping your leash tight, his cock still slamming deep into your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you're so cute like this,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out just to smear your spit over your lips before gripping your chin. “So dumb and messy for me.”

You can only whimper, body shuddering under the overwhelming sensations—the size of him splitting you open, the leash cutting into your throat, the way he manhandles you like you’re nothing but his little plaything. Your legs tremble as another orgasm creeps up, and Zayne notices immediately, his cock twitching inside you.

“Gonna cum again?” His voice is a low, mocking growl. “Go on, puppy. Cum while I ruin this tight little cunt.”

Then he slams in deeper, and you break all over again—gagging, sobbing, your body convulsing around him as he fucks you through it, his grip on your leash never loosening.

．－ ℛ𝒜ℱ𝒜𝒴ℰℒ （gentle but rough?!）

Rafayel holds the leash firmly, tugging just enough to make you stumble closer to him. His gaze is sharp, glowing with that cold, unreadable intensity—but there’s something else beneath it, something almost indulgent as he watches your small puppy tail wag despite the tremble in your thighs.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, one large hand stroking down your back before gripping your ass. His touch lingers, fingers pressing into the soft flesh before he suddenly spanks you—hard. The sharp crack echoes through the room, and you yelp, body jerking forward.

“R-Rafayel—!” Your voice breaks into a whimper, your puppy ears twitching as you press your thighs together. The sting of his slap spreads through you, heat pooling between your legs, and your tail wags again—completely betraying you.

Rafayel chuckles, low and amused, before giving you another sharp slap on the ass, making you jolt. “You like it,” he muses, tugging the leash so you’re forced to arch your back, your tits hanging as he positions you just how he wants. “Such a needy little thing.”

His fingers trace over your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make your breath hitch. “I should make you beg,” he mutters, watching as your small frame trembles under his touch, as your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for him. “But you’re already crying.”

You are crying—small, shaky sobs spilling from your lips, overwhelmed by how big he is, how much stronger, how easily he handles you. The humiliation only makes it worse, your face burning as he strokes your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

"Poor puppy," he murmurs, though there’s no real pity in his voice. “Is it too much?”

You shake your head frantically, afraid he’ll stop. “N-no! Please—”

He cuts you off with a sharp tug of the leash, forcing your back to arch even further. “Then take it.”

And then he’s inside you, stretching you open with one deep, slow thrust. Your mouth falls open, a broken moan spilling out as his cock fills you completely, pushing in so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

"Fuck," Rafayel groans, his hands gripping your hips as he stills, letting you adjust to his size. His fingers flex, like he’s barely restraining himself. “You’re so—” He exhales sharply, pulling out just enough before slamming back in, making you choke on your own moan.

His thrusts are rough despite the way he holds you, each movement knocking you forward, making your tits bounce with every deep stroke. His hand comes down on your ass again, the stinging heat only adding to the pleasure, and you sob into the sheets, your small puppy tail wagging wildly behind you.

He notices, because of course he does. A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips the base of your tail, stroking it slowly. "So cute," he murmurs, his tone almost tender—right before he tugs the leash hard, forcing your back to arch as he slams in deep.

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock as you cry out, your body giving in completely. Rafayel groans, his pace growing rougher, more desperate, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

“Cum for me, puppy,” he orders, voice firm but laced with something softer, something only for you.

And you do—your body shattering as pleasure crashes through you, your pussy squeezing his cock so tight it forces a deep groan from him. He doesn't stop, fucking you through your orgasm, gripping your leash, your tail, your hips like he owns you, and it only makes you fall apart even harder.

．－𝒮𝒴ℒ𝒰𝒮 （big size kink?!）

You barely have time to catch your breath before you're being pulled into Sylus’s lap, the leash in his hand tightening just enough to make your body jolt. His sheer size alone makes you feel small—his broad chest, strong arms, and the way his thick cock presses against your trembling thighs. You look up at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and he smirks, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rich and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “So tiny compared to me… and yet, you think you can take all of me?"”

You swallow hard, your ears twitching as you nod shyly. But Sylus just chuckles, wrapping the leash around his wrist and pulling you forward until your tits press against his bare chest. “You're shaking,” he points out, his large hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Maybe I should stretch you out first. Don't want my lil’ pet breaking too soon.”

A whimper escapes your lips as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his cock. His size is intimidating, the thick head pressing against your soaked entrance, stretching you open inch by inch. Your walls struggle to take him, your tiny body barely accommodating his girth, and you whine, gripping his shoulders.

“S-Sylus—t-too big—“

He groans at your weak little protest, his grip on your leash tightening. “Shh, you can take it,” he soothes, though his voice is thick with hunger. "You're made for this, aren't you? My pretty little puppy, all stretched around my cock."

Your breath stutters as he lowers you further, his cock sinking deep into your cunt, making your tummy bulge slightly from the sheer size of him. You whimper at the overwhelming fullness, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and Sylus groans, gripping your ass to keep you still.

“Fuck,” he breathes, watching the way your pussy struggles to take him. “You're so fucking tight. Gonna have to train you to take me properly.”

Your fingers dig into his skin as he suddenly yanks the leash, pulling you flush against him, forcing his cock even deeper. You choke on a moan, your body clenching around him, overwhelmed by the sheer stretch. Sylus only smirks, his hand moving to your tummy, pressing down slightly.

“Feel that?” he murmurs. “That's me, buried so deep inside this lil’ pussy. Can't run from it now, sweetheart.”

You shake your head frantically, overwhelmed, but he just leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now, be a good girl and ride me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body trembling as you try to adjust to his sheer size. Every inch of him stretches you past your limit, making you feel impossibly small compared to him. The collar around your neck feels heavier now, especially when Sylus gives the leash another firm tug, forcing you to meet his gaze. His red eyes burn with amusement and hunger.

“What's wrong?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your hips. “Too much for my little puppy?”

You shake your head quickly, even though your body is already struggling to move. Your thighs ache, your pussy throbbing from the overwhelming stretch of his cock, but you still try to lift yourself, only to sink back down with a broken moan.

Sylus groans, his hands flexing against your ass before delivering a sharp slap to it. “Struggling already?” His voice is thick with satisfaction. “Guess I’ll have to help.”

Before you can respond, he tightens his grip and begins lifting you himself, forcing you to bounce on his cock. Each motion has you gasping, your pussy clenching down around his thick length as he guides you with ease.

“Fuck, look at you,”he murmurs, watching the way your tiny body struggles to take him. His hand presses against your stomach again, feeling the way his cock fills you. LSo damn small. You're barely able to handle me, but you're still trying so hard.”

You whimper, your ears twitching as you shyly bury your face against his chest. But Sylus only chuckles, tugging on your leash, forcing you to sit up straight again.

“Don't get shy on me now,” he growls, his other hand gripping your jaw. “I wanna see that pretty face while I wreck this tight little pussy.”

His thrusts grow rougher, your moans turning into desperate cries as he uses the leash to keep you in place. His cock slams into you with each movement, stretching you wide, making it impossible to think about anything except how deep he is inside you. Your walls flutter around him, another orgasm creeping up fast, your legs shaking from the intensity.

“S-Sylus—” you gasp, gripping his wrists, overwhelmed.

He smirks, pulling you down onto his cock one last time before holding you there, his grip keeping you locked in place. “Go on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your lips. “Cum for me.”

And with one more harsh tug on your leash, you break—your pussy clamping down, body shaking violently as pleasure crashes over you. Sylus groans as he fucks you through it, his cock twitching, his movements becoming more erratic as he chases his own release.

“That's my good girl,” he growls, pulling your leash tighter as he slams into you one last time, burying himself as deep as possible before spilling inside.

Your breath stutters as you feel the warmth of his cum flooding you, his thick cock keeping every drop inside. The leash loosens slightly, and Sylus pulls you against his chest, his large hands rubbing slow circles over your trembling thighs.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

．－𝒳𝒜𝒱ℐℰℛ （fuck boy?!）

You barely have time to recover before Xavier forces you onto all fours, the leash tightening around your throat as he tugs you into position. His grip is firm, his touch almost lazy as he runs a hand down your spine, appreciating how small you look beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice. “On your hands and knees, just like a good little puppy should be.”

Your ears twitch, heat rushing to your face as you shyly press your cheek against the mattress. His teasing always gets to you, making you whimper, making you squirm, but he only chuckles, rolling his hips against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he is.

"Already soaked," he muses, dragging his fingers through your folds, spreading the slickness. “Are you really that desperate?”

You whine, embarrassed, but your body betrays you—your pussy clenching around nothing, aching for him. Xavier hums, amused, before gripping the base of the leash and pulling your head up.

“Use your words,” he purrs. "Tell me what you need, puppy."

Your breath hitches, your thighs trembling. “Y-you…!”

“Me what?” His tone is mocking, his free hand moving between your legs, fingers barely brushing your swollen clit. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

You squirm, your body pushing back against him instinctively. "N-need your cock, please!"

“Good girl,” he praises, and before you can even brace yourself, he’s pushing in.

The stretch burns in the best way, his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch, forcing your body to take him. Your mouth falls open, a choked moan escaping as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, making you jolt. “You're so fucking tight. Can barely even take me.”

You let out a weak whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. Each thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, his cock hitting deep, making your legs tremble. The leash tightens again, pulling your head back, arching your spine even more.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, his free hand sliding under your body, groping your tits. “Face down, ass up, struggling to handle my cock.”

Your cheeks burn, your body tingling from the mix of humiliation and pleasure. You try to bury your face in the sheets, but Xavier clicks his tongue, tugging on the leash again.

“Ah, ah. Don’t hide from me,” he scolds. “I want to see every little expression when you cum all over my cock.”

His pace grows rougher, his grip firmer, using the leash to keep you exactly where he wants you. Your pussy flutters around him, the overwhelming stretch, the deep thrusts, the way he manhandles you—it’s too much.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Xavier groans. “Go ahead, puppy. Make a mess for me.”

And with one last sharp thrust, you break—your body shuddering, your pussy tightening around his cock as you cum hard, moaning his name. Xavier doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, chasing his own high until he slams into you one last time, spilling inside.

He stays there for a moment, his cock still buried deep, the leash still taut in his grip. Then, with a lazy smirk, he leans down, his breath warm against your ear.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “But I think you’ve got a few more rounds in you.”

．－𝒞𝒜ℒℰℬ （hottest fuck?!）

Caleb doesn’t waste time. The moment he gets his hands on you, he’s yanking you into his lap, the leash wrapped tightly around his fist. His cock is already hard, pressing insistently against your soaked folds, and his free hand grips your waist, holding you steady.

“You've been passed around like a fucktoy all night, huh?” he muses, his voice carrying that usual teasing lilt, though there's something darker underneath. His fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, making you whimper. “And yet, you're still dripping for me. Such a greedy little thing.”

You whine, ears twitching as you shyly avoid his gaze, but he just chuckles, tugging the leash to make you face him.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, puppy,” he coos, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Your breath stutters, your thighs trembling as you nod. “Y-yes…”

“Then be good and take me.”

Before you can brace yourself, Caleb lifts you effortlessly, positioning you over his cock. The thick head presses against your entrance, forcing you to stretch around him inch by inch. You let out a broken moan, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support.

“F-fuck, Caleb—”

“Shh, you can handle it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your ear. “I know you can.”

He guides you down, making sure you take every inch of him. The stretch is overwhelming, the sheer size of him making your body struggle to accommodate. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls fluttering as you try to adjust, but Caleb only groans, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight,” he growls, his voice rough. “Like this little cunt was made to take my cock.”

You let out a whimper, overwhelmed, and he smirks, tugging on the leash again. “You like that, don’t you?”

You nod weakly, too lost in the pleasure to respond properly. But Caleb isn’t satisfied with that—he grips your hips and lifts you before slamming you back down onto his cock, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

“That's better,” he praises, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, keep going. I wanna see you bounce on my cock like the perfect little pet you are.”

Your body moves on instinct, your thighs burning as you start to ride him, his cock stretching you over and over again. Caleb watches you with hooded eyes, his smirk widening as he tugs on the leash, keeping you under his control.

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to where you’re impaled on his cock. “Bet you’re close already, huh?”

You nod frantically, your body trembling, the coil in your stomach tightening with every movement. Caleb chuckles, his grip tightening as he meets your movements with rough thrusts.

“Then cum for me, puppy. Show me how much you love being used.”

With one last sharp tug on the leash, you shatter—your pussy clamping down around him, your vision going white as you cry out his name. Caleb groans, fucking you through your orgasm, his cock twitching inside you before he buries himself deep, spilling inside.

He holds you there, panting slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles against your hips. Then, with a lazy smirk, he leans in, his breath warm against your lips.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “But don’t think we’re done just yet.”

© 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!

nsfw mdni

yadda yadda yadda, thinking of caleb laying on his bed with you sitting on his lap holding a marker. it started as something innocent and playful, but now you have him under you, laid back with his shirt pulled up. he’s completely at your mercy, not that he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

he watches as you start writing, recognizing your signature followed by a cute heart, and he swears he’s never gotten harder in his entire life. fuck, you’re marking him as yours??? holy shit he could die happy. has to close his eyes and let out a shaky breath, because he knows he’ll cum way too early if he doesn’t.

and you barely even stop writing, sticking your tongue out cutely as you focus on writing in your prettiest handwriting. your hands make their way down his body as you work on properly marking him, ignoring the way he whines as you keep not touching him where he needs you to.

then he feels your hands move to his jeans, unbuttoning them and moving the zipper down. he opens his eyes and reaches down to help you take them off, but your hand swats his away. instead, you pull them down just enough to see the base of his cock and draw an arrow. then in your prettiest handwriting, you write “mine” and draw several hearts near it.

reaching over to the night stand, you grab your phone and start taking photos of him, his face blushed a cute pink as he looks up at you.

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

SHE'S SWEET LIKE CANDY!

synopsis. you spot something when you're out at the mall with tara. you cant help but think about your boyfriend who's at work doing the best he can, so why not give him a little gift?

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, face fucking, cunnilingus, making him whine, petnames, make him beg for you girl, well its caleb so he a lil nasty icl, nicest I've written caleb

add ons. THIS LITERALLY CAME INTO MY HEAD WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG OHH MY GODDDD GUYSSSHEBDHEB

wc. 2.9k

it wasn’t everyday you wore lingerie. actually, you didn’t even wear it. you thought the clothing was cute - sexy even! it just.. wasn’t something you were much into. well that was until you saw the set hanging up in a store you passed with tara. you couldn’t take your eyes off it - everytime you found yourself circling around back to the store at the mall, tara now being annoyed with you.

“i thought you weren’t that into lingerie?” she nudges you. she was right— you weren’t, but the thought of you putting it on, spreading yourself on the bed, waiting for him to come home and devour you. the sensation. you needed to buy this - it was a sign.

“i wasn’t” you retorted. sure, you didn’t really think of yourself as the type of woman to put on a show, but you couldn’t help but think about how he’d look at you. maybe he’d slowly glide your hands over the baby doll shaped dress, his hands would gently fondle your tits until your moaning for him - maybe his mouth would kiss all around you while he told you how gorgeous you looked in your newly bought clothes.

you needed that matching set.

“but trying something new wouldn’t hurt, right? it’s pretty cute too ‘tars” you nudged her back. your eyes flickered away from the glass that so proudly showed off the matching set going to your friend. tara glanced from you, to the set, back to you. her eyes scrutinizing you, her gaze watching your movements, face and even posture. it went until a moment after she moved her hands to her mouth. her face contorting into a shocked expression.

“you’re trying to impress - no, show out for someone!” tara yelled in a hush. this wasn’t a question, it was pure fact to her. oh how you hated how correct she was too, fine. you were trying to show out for someone. she wasn’t going to know that. she wouldn’t let you live it down. for sakes it was for caleb after all! part of you thinks he does deserve a little sweet treat for all the hard work he’s been doing for you.

“whaaaaaat? no! what makes you think that? i’m just.. getting more comfortable in my skin y’know?” you tried to avoid her gaze. it was scary how accurate she was on most things, like, crazy accurate. maybe you should cut her off from those spiritual classes, they were obviously working horrible wonders for her.

tara tried to hide the snicker that was coming from her. her hands returning back to her sides before she grabbed your wrist. “fine fine, let’s go get you fitted in the set you’re eyeing. i’ll pay for it - think of it as a celebration! i’ve been waiting for this moment!” you could only sigh.

this was going to be a long while.

when you finally returned home, you thanked tara before rushing up to your door and making your way inside. you could admit, you were partly excited. you couldn’t see yourself fully in the set but based off tara’s inputs you looked ‘totally sexy!’ whatever. you checked your phone and looked at the text that caleb sent you, your face in a smile.

“be home soon pip’s! can’t wait to see what you bought back home! hopefully you got me a gift :)”

oh, you got him a gift. you sure did. you couldn’t help the excited kicks you did before getting the house ready. you started the shower and made sure to get your good razor and body scrub. your washing routine being extra careful. you got out, now scrambling to dry off and get the set.

it took you a minute but you got it on, you rushed back to your bathroom and started to do your hair and makeup, making sure it was subtle but enough to give you a little boost. oh and were you were feeling yourself. anxiously, you made your way to your mirror. your gaze glancing over your body, your face, hair. you looked put together.

you giggled to yourself, striking a pose or two and taking a photo. did you want to surprise caleb when he got home? yes, yes you did. but could you contain yourself? no. no you couldn’t. you set up your room and cleaned up the house a bit before making your way to your bed and settling down. you whipped out your phone and sent a pretty little text to caleb.

“i got you a little something on the side too, wanted to show you now. i can’t wait til you come home, hurry :(” - 1 photo attached.

your bit your finger anxiously. he read it. no response. your mind wandered, what if he didn’t like it? is he weirded out now? did he not want to see you like this? god were you anxious. you couldn’t stand waiting; especially since he didn’t reply to you.

it didn’t take long until you heard the rattling of your door, your head perking up as you got back into the position you were in. he’s home. you scrambled around while the rattling stop and sounds of footsteps filled the air, getting closer and closer to your room.

your door creaked open, caleb stood there, his gaze unwavering from you. his eyes fixed on you while a smile creeped on his face. “so i didn’t imagine it.” he said softly. “welcome home, honey.” you said back oh so sweetly.

caleb didn’t take any time when it came to you, his hands finding their way around your body, his lips kissing every part of you that he could feel. how euphoric this was for both you and him. you were so sweet for him, he could almost cry. “so,” he said whispering, his head digging into your neck. “what made you get dolled up for me? hm? did i do something good?” his voice was intoxicating. how he spoke with such urgency but he was so gentle.

“hmm.. well you’ve been working so hard for me. you deserved something.” you smiled, your hands finding his. caleb felt like he could melt. just for him? for working like he’s always done? oh fuck, it was enough to make his cock twitch with eagerness.

“who am i to deny something so sweet? especially since it’s a gift from you.” he grabbed your hips, turning you over so he could see you on top of him. you were beautiful. his hands roamed around your body, he couldn’t get enough of you. your curves, the way you swayed your hips, how you arched so naturally for him, how you were made for him.

your hands found their way to his face, and he couldn’t help but lean into them letting out a soft moan. “you look really pretty, and I mean ‘fuckin gorgeous.” his words were shaky. his eyes dawned on you. your hands making their way to his jaw, then to his lips. glazing over them slightly before you bent down to give him kisses. such a good idea to wear lipstick.

your lips stained his body, it was proof. proof on how you owned him, how he was yours forevermore. caleb couldn’t help but snicker. “you having fun there?” and you nodded. you reached for his uniform, undoing it and tossing his clothes to the side. your pussy throbbed at the sight of him like this. he was so fucking pretty, like a puppy. the way his eyes looked up at you in a way where he was pleading you to let him ruin your body. the way your lipstick matched such a perfect shade for his skin and how messy his lips looked.

he looked fucking messy, and you haven’t even started.

caleb gripped your thighs, “cmon baby don’t be like that, I’m dying here.” his hips rolling - sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a moan, your hands running down his exposed chest. “i know baby” you coo. your hands moving back, finding his cock and palming it through his pants. you could drink up this sight of him and it was one of the days where his robotic arm was exposed? you were in heaven.

“fuck, fuck fuck fuck, that feels good - real good, please,” his hips bucking up. your hands sliding away while his moans turned into pleas. caleb squeezed on your hip. “no, no no no please baby let me, I’ve been a real good boy.” oh fuck did that do something to you. his face soft with an sad expression. he was so so cute you couldn’t help but tease him. your cunt throbbed from negligence. you leaned down and kissed him again, smiling. “then be a good dog and eat me out.”

you settled your body on his face, not sitting fully but enough for him to taste you. caleb let out a scoff before grabbing your thighs and tugging you down, pushing all your weight on him. “oh cmon baby, i wanna taste all of you.” and that’s what he did. caleb licked your folds and sucked on your nub, his tongue licking your slit and drinking up your arousal. he was eating you out like a starved man.

your hands gripped on his hair, your hips swayed on his lips to his nose. oh fuck did he feel good. caleb used his hands to feel your bra. it was nice, pretty. it suit you so fucking well, fuck you were his pretty girl. he whimpered, allowing you to ride his face. what’d they say? save a plane & ride a pilot? whatever it was, this was fucking it.

caleb placed sloppy kisses around your entrance, using his evol to keep you down while he was able to continue touching you. “if you keep moving baby, i can’t eat my dinner properly.” he chuckled. his tongue finding itself inside your dripping cunt, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. fuck he was a natural. you twitched while calebs mouth worked wonders on you.

“caleb — caleb ‘m gonna, oh oh please make me cum make me cum,” you whined. his mouth picking up speed as he kissed and licked you. fuck did he make you stupid. caleb placed his last kiss before he felt you twitch. his evol letting you move freely while he flipped you both. “look at your panties baby, they’re all soaked now.” he teased.

you couldn’t help but push him a little. caleb snickered before removing his gloves, his fingers now freed while he kissed your chest. “gonna make you cum a few more times ‘kay?” he smiled. before you could respond his fingers disappeared and your stomach does flips. his fingers big, and long, making your toes curl. “oh fuck, you’re so good caleb — so fucking good for me.”

caleb couldn’t deny, hearing you praise him make his cock throb. he wanted to make you feel like heaven and earth combined. his fingers curling upward making your gasp for air, his thumb rubbing circles on the nub of your clit. “aw baby, i really make you feel that good?” he teased. you grabbed his arm nodding and whining. you wiggled under him - your eyes glistening.

“gonna cum? cmon say you are.” he coo’d. you moaned, body shaking as you tried to at least form a sentence. “yes yes yes ‘m close please please please” god you sounded pathetic under him. he loved it. your walls clenched on his fingers as he stretched you and kissed you. “okay, cum for me then pretty baby.”

you did exactly that. coating his fingers with your juices. you felt weak, and caleb sat up. “what about me baby? i need to cum to.” he said sadly. his cock practically imprinting on his pants. you couldn’t just leave your dear boyfriend like this. you got up, pulling on his waistband and revealing his dick. did he seem.. bigger???

“from all the teasing you’re doing to me. not to mention this cute little outfit you got on.” his face wide in a smile. his tip was swollen, pink and veiny. curling up just enough to hit every one of your sweet spots. you saw the pre-cum that leaked from his slit and you couldn’t help but give it kisses.

“oh, fuck. that’s it baby.” caleb moaned, his hand making its way around your hair, and rubbing your chin.

you looked up at him, swirling your tongue around his tip. fucking perfect. was all he was able to think before you used your other hand to start pumping his cock.

he was big, it took a minute for you to relax your lips and jaw around his head, but once you felt okay; your mouth slammed on him. caleb cried out when he felt you start sucking him. his hands that were once gentle and soft now rough; grabbing your hair and bucking his hips up.

you let your tongue relax while caleb grabbed your head and rammed his cock in your mouth, abusing your throat. “i can’t help it ‘m sorry please you feel so good - so tight.” he pleas. your eyes on him while he looks completely drunk off you. he was such a pretty fucker.

his cock tightened, and your throat slacken. caleb looked down at you and moved his hands to your face. plugging your nose.

it didn’t take long for caleb to be slamming into your mouth aimlessly. his hips spurt and a ‘pop!’ sound comes from your mouth, caleb’s dick hitting your face while he came all over it. you gasped and moan. “thaaaat’s it pretty girl.”

caleb moved behind you, his hands cupping your bra then moving to the straps, undoing the clips and taking the bra off. “the sheer gown stays on.” he kisses your neck. “you look so pretty in it.”

he pushed you down gently, bringing your ass up and aligning his cock with your entrance. caleb bit his lip, “need you to relax up a little okay?” he asked, and then he eased his way in. you felt so fucking warm. the way you clenched around his cock so nicely - how he stretched you even after prepping you. it was delicious.

caleb thrusted into you, hitting your cunt in all different ways. his pace picking up speed while he groaned. “got all pretty for me, do you know how hard it was to keep my composure at work?” he whined, snapping his hips back to you. his abs rocking against you. “couldn’t even jerk myself, fuck fuck, I came home as soon as I could just for you baby.”

he was mean. his tip kissing your cervix over and over again making you into a wobbly slobbering mess of cries and moans. caleb brought his hand down right between your thighs, rubbing circles over your already crying cunt. “reeeaal nasty girl you got here baby.” he teased you, placing a kiss on your back.

caleb grabbed your hips, slamming into you continuously. you couldn’t help but rock your hips attempting to match his pace. fuck did he like the view. his pretty baby, who once was dolled up now defiled into a pathetic whiny mess. “caleb - caleb,” you whined in your pillow. makeup smearing everywhere, nice one. now you have to buy a new pillow set.

you felt yourself getting close.

it was coming fast.

you lifted your head, moaning at the feeling of caleb’s cock burying itself back into your walls and out again. euphoric. “i feel weird. so weird baby please —”

caleb hushed you “i know baby it’s okay, im close too, yeah? come on baby come on.” he coo’s. caleb’s hips snapped and you felt a little ‘pop!’ and then a nudge near your stomach. he was in. fully. you moaned and gripped your sheets, tears streaming down your face as caleb fucked you like he was in heat.

caleb nipped at your tits, he fucking loved them. how perky and sensitive they were, how everytime he kissed them you whined in response, hell, caleb loved everything about your body. when it came to you he wanted to touch and explore you. his pretty doll.

he grabbed your arms, bringing you up and kissing your neck. “cum for me baby, cmon you can do it.” he hummed. oh how those words felt like heaven for you. it wasn’t until you started twitching as caleb now thrusted slower into you, and then it happened.

you sprinkled out a clear liquid on his cock. twitching and moaning while it dripped everywhere, you panted and whined. your body relaxing as you collapse while caleb came right inside your cunt. grunting, watching the little show you gave him.

caleb pulled out of you in awe. “did you just squirt all over me?” he teased you. you heaved, letting out small “m sorry”s. caleb could only chuckle at the sight.

“it’s fine baby, it was a show for me. felt good!” he smiled. caleb could see you were tapping out, breathing heavily as your lingerie was now messy with sweat, cum and what he liked to call ‘pussy juice.’ he smiled, his eyes looking over you and then placing a kiss on your cheek as you flopped to your side.

“i’ll get the water running, this was a nice gift princess. i might start buying you more lingerie sets from now on.” he chuckled before walking out the room.

yeah, maybe you could get used to this.

oh my my my!

caleb x fem!reader wc: 1.027k (the nctzen in me is screaming) cw: caleb is insane, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, pipsqeuak), caleb has endless stamina again, fat cock caleb, cock-drunk reader, mating press, slight breeding kink, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, unrealistic sex lol, i did not mean to write this much actually, not edited!

TIME: 11:12 PM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: LIVING ROOM

...what did he say? all you did was confront caleb about why the two of you haven't had sex yet, but what did he just say?

"my... penis... is too big." he mutters shyly, a blush spread across his cheeks and ears paired with an expression you've never seen on his face before. you stare at him, mouth agape. you take a moment to to process what he said before stifling a laugh, making caleb frown even more.

"that's it?"

"i'm being serious! i don't want to hurt you."

you smile at him with a sigh, a bit relieved that was his answer. you place a kiss on his cheek that he grumpily accepts, pulling you close to him.

"sounds like you're just going to have to do a better job at prepping me then," you smirk, a hint of mirth in your voice. the look in his eye changes, arousal pooling in his irises.

"is that a challenge, pipsqueak?" he cocks an eyebrow, pulling you closer to him by the waist, "i'm just not sure if you can handle it."

"is that a challenge?" you glare at him, suddenly feeling yourself get competitive too. it's not like you were going to lose, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 1:39 AM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: YOUR BEDROOM

you were, however, indeed losing.

you blink past the stars that caleb was making you see. it's been about 2 hours since he started eating you out, his licks and bites relentless. he gives one last harsh suck to your clit before pulling away, looking at the art he's created.

you're shaking, your pussy became puffy thanks to his ministrations, and there are countless bites and marks around your thighs.

"looks like you bit off more than you could chew, hm? princess?" he kisses your temple, caressing your hair and arms to calm you down from your nth orgasm.

"can... still take more..." you mumble, gripping onto his shirt, frustrated that he's still clothed while you were stripped naked. you feels his hands drag against your arms, your abdomen, before reaching just above your mound.

"you sure? we still got a bit more before you can actually fit me." he warns, his fingers dangerously close to your entrance. you nod, but he ignores it. "words, baby, need you to say it out loud for me."

"mm—" you moan, feeling his fingers graze your clit, "i... i can take it! just fuck me already!"

he plunges two fingers into you and you cum immediately, squirting onto his palm. his hands were big, you knew that, but they were reaching places you couldn't manage to touch yourself.

"fuck, you're so wet," he groans, sucking another mark onto your neck as he fucks his hand into you, "maybe i don't need to do this—maybe you can fit me like this."

he takes his fingers out and you whine, trying to pull him back in. he ignores you, using his other hand to hold both of your wrists above your head as he licks his essence off of his fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop.

he unbuckles his belt swiftly, letting his cock spring out, the tip angry and leaking with precum. it's drenched with its own cum because he couldn't hold back, your moans and whines were enough for him to climax without being touched—if only you knew the effect you had on him. he presses his cock against your entrance and you shudder at his size, suddenly unsure if you could really take it. you try to shy away, scooting your body away from him when he catches you, caging you in his arms as he pins you down.

"aw, don't tell me you're scared now?" he laughs, being uncharacteristically mean. he pushes the tip of his dick a bit further into you, slowly stretching you out with a groan.

"if you can't take it anymore, you just gotta say the word." you glare at him, yanking on his arm to pull his face closer to yours.

"i already said 'fuck me!'"

"as you wish," he smirks, "gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 3:54 AM, YOU THINK. LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, YOU THINK. YOUR BEDROOM... YOU THINK.

you're on all fours, trying to get away from caleb as he pounds you mercilessly, his cum spilling out of your cunt and pooling onto the sheets. his cock is so, so big, you think you're cumming with every thrust, but you're not sure. you don't know how many times you've cum tonight, but you do know that he's made you pass out a few times.

"c-can't... can't..." you cry softly, the pleasure too much for your poor pussy to handle.

"say the word, then. then we'll be at 1 - 0." he taunts, "do you even remember the word, baby?"

you gulp down a sob, nodding while humming weakly as he slows down his thrusts to give you the chance to speak.

"i-i—" you stutter, your mind hazy with cock, "caleb—"

"my name isn't a safeword," he chuckles, "it's Linkon, okay?"

you nod and he smiles sweetly, kissing your forehead before tossing you onto your back, slowly pushing your thighs up and into a mating press.

"just a bit more," he kisses you again, starting up his thrusts once more, "just one more and then it'll be your win."

he resumes the pace he had before, the sound reverberating throughout the bedroom. it's almost animalistic, the marks and bites all over your body, the way your pussy can't even hold in his cum anymore—it's almost like he's trying to breed you, trying to make it stick. you cum weakly, squirting a bit as your eyes roll back. at this point, it's not just stars you're seeing, you can see the entire deepspace tunnel thanks to him. he feels the way your cunt convulses around him and he grunts, unable to stall any longer and he fills you up one last time. his cum floods your womb and spills out, only adding to the mess below you two.

"i guess it's 0 - 1 now. too bad i lost," he says with a smile.

oopsies... caleb u r my muse... also the safeword line has been all over my tl so i couldn't help but implement it! showed up at the perfect time :3

also i actually do not have any ideas on good safewords to use for the men... if yall wanna send some my way in my ask so i can use them in future fics !!!!!

ᯓ ✈︎ the forbidden fruit's temptation

Caleb usually rents private gym space to unleash his evol during workouts; this time, he invites you along. The air feels charged, every glance and movement igniting a tension you can’t ignore. Caleb becomes an unknowing temptation, drawing you in with effortless allure. But as the intensity builds, the tables subtly turn—your desire transforms into a primal need. He remains oblivious, yet you’ve become the predator, ready to claim what you can no longer resist.

lads caleb x reader

warnings : dry humping, blow jobs, teasing, semi-public sex, doggy style, mc is a freak

6.8k words

rated : e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62513281

A/N: I’ve realized I’m not entirely happy with what I’ve written here. After uploading it and giving it another read, I’ve found that this one isn’t my favorite. I lean more toward dominant Caleb, personally. I think it’s also because I wrote this in portions during breaks at work, so my ideas were a bit scattered each time I came back to it, and it doesn’t feel as cohesive as I’d like.

That said, I hope you all still enjoy it! Caleb is such a frustrating mix of hot, nerdy, and stupid—I can’t help but hate love him

You’re playfully swaying Caleb side to side, arms wrapped snugly around his waist, your chest pressed against his back as he fumbles with the passkey to the private gym space he rented. “How long do you usually rent these for?” you mumble, your voice muffled against the warmth of his shirt, your face nestled in the curve of his back.

“About an hour or two,” he replies, his tone nonchalant. “But since you’re here… just an hour.” The door clicks open, and he steps inside, guiding you along.

The room feels vast and almost empty. Padded floors stretch across the space, with just a bench press, a pull-up bar station, and plenty of open room. You glance around, tilting your head. “Not exactly a variety of options here,” you quip, your fingers brushing his arm as you step forward.

“When you can manipulate gravity,” Caleb says, setting his bag down with a soft thud against the wall, “you don’t need much.” He rolls his shoulders back, stretching his arms wide. His dog tag chain swings with every fluid movement, catching the light as he speaks.

Your gaze lingers on him as he moves, his confidence tangible. “How does that even work?”

“I just increase the gravitational pull,” he explains casually, gripping the pull-up bar with one hand and leaning his weight against it. “Makes everything heavier—no need for extra weights.” His lips curl into a smirk, his tone laced with pride.

Suddenly, you feel it—the subtle but unmistakable shift. The air seems heavier, your steps slightly labored as though gravity has doubled. “You started already?” you huff, adjusting your stance as your legs resist the added weight.

Caleb saunters toward you with ease, his grin widening as he watches you wobble. “This? This is nothing. I went easy on you,” he teases, his hand slipping to your arm to steady you. The warmth of his touch contrasts the firm grip, grounding you against the increasing pull. “I brought you here because I needed extra weight for my calisthenics.”

“Did you just call me heavy?” you gasp, eyes widening in mock offense as you clutch your chest dramatically.

“What? No! That’s not— I mean… it’s about gravitational force, not your—” Caleb stammers, his face flushing as his usually smooth composure crumbles. His words tumble over each other, trying to explain.

You watch him flounder, suppressing a laugh until you can’t hold it anymore. Your fingers reach up to cup his face, gently tilting his head so you can look into his flustered eyes. “Relax,” you murmur, shaking his head lightly, a mischievous grin on your lips. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “I’m messing with you.”

His tense shoulders drop, his embarrassment fading as his hands settle on your waist. His lips curl into a grin, his earlier pride returning as he pulls you closer. “You’re too easy to tease,” you add, your thumb brushing against his cheek.

Caleb leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his smirk playful but his eyes warm. “Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low, “teasing me might just mean you end up working harder than you planned.”

You playfully push Caleb’s chest, tilting your head as you pout. “So, what exactly do you need help with?”

“Simple,” Caleb says with a grin. “Having you sit on my back during push-ups with normal gravity wouldn’t do much since, well, you’re pretty light…”

You narrow your eyes, but he quickly raises his hands in defense, laughing. “Hey, I wasn’t done! That’s why I’m cranking up the gravitational pull. Makes it more challenging.”

“Couldn’t you just use a weight plate or, you know, ask someone else?” you counter, folding your arms and trying to suppress a grin.

“Nooo, this is the only way,” he replies, dismissing your suggestion with a casual wave. He drops to the floor, settling into position with a cocky smirk. “Sit.”

You sigh but oblige, carefully lowering yourself onto his mid-back. Adjusting your position, you rest your hands firmly on his upper back and raise your legs to avoid weighing him down unevenly. “You’re like my personal horsie,” you tease, laughing.

Suddenly, the air grows heavier again. You feel the weight pressing down on you as Caleb amps up the gravitational pull. He adjusts his stance, his body tensing beneath you as he begins his first push-up.

The motion is slow and deliberate, his arms trembling slightly as he fights the pull. He manages to push himself back up, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.

He doesn’t answer, his focus entirely on his rhythm. His breaths are steady but labored, his determination evident in every controlled motion.

You decide to stay silent, trusting Caleb’s expertise. This is his evol—his unique strength, his domain. He understands it better than anyone, and your interference might only distract him.

As his movements continue, his pace begins to pick up, smooth and deliberate. Your eyes wander, tracing the way his back muscles ripple with each push-up, the strain and effort becoming undeniably attractive. The sight alone has you mesmerized, but then you feel yourself slipping slightly.

Instinctively, you adjust your position, shifting your weight to sit more securely on his back. The movement causes an unexpected sensation—a jolt that catches you off guard. You pause, confused, but the lingering warmth in your lower abdomen doesn’t go away. Trying to dismiss it, you subtly sway your hips again to readjust, hoping to find a better balance. But instead, the feeling intensifies, spreading through you in a way that leaves your heart racing.

You glance down at yourself, trying to figure out what’s happening, but Caleb’s sudden grunt makes you snap your head back up. For a moment, you panic, wondering if he’s noticed, but his focus remains entirely on his push-ups. He doesn’t seem to have a clue.

Your mind races as you try to remain still, careful not to make your movements too obvious. Whatever this feeling is, it’s building, and you can’t seem to stop it. Caleb shifts his shoulders slightly, rolling them to readjust his stance, completely unaware of the effect his every move is having on you.

You lean forward, resting your upper body against Caleb’s broad back. Your arms are planked on either side of his shoulder blades, offering you support, while your legs hold firmly to his sides. You wonder fleetingly, What if Caleb catches me? But the thought is quickly drowned by the sensations coursing through you.

Tentatively, you let your hips roll against his lower back, testing the movement. It’s subtle and faint, and you’re careful not to disrupt his rhythm. Yet, the motion aligns perfectly with the pace of his push-ups, each rise and fall pressing against your core in a way that’s almost maddening. It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but it feels dangerously close to something deliberate like he’s unknowingly bouncing you against him.

You let out a soft sigh, quickly muffling it by burying your face in your fists and biting down on your thumbs. The friction is faint but electric, teasing at something deeper, more primal. You rock your hips again, just barely, enough to feel the heat in your body rise.

Caleb’s breathing grows heavier but he doesn’t pause or acknowledge your subtle movements. He’s so focused, his body working against the increased gravity, that he’s oblivious to your growing tension.

Your fists press harder against your lips as you continue to move in time with him, the rhythm pulling you deeper into your world, each roll of your hips stoking a fire you’re desperately trying to contain. “Mmnh..” you sigh, quickly covering your mouth hoping Caleb doesn’t hear you. The feeling coursing through you is impossible to ignore. Caleb wouldn’t mind you indulging in this moment—not that he’s even aware of what you’re doing. Slowly, you sit back up, your breath hitching as you adjust yourself. Sliding your hips slightly back, you arch your spine, positioning yourself perfectly. Each subtle movement of your body against his sends a jolt through you, hitting exactly where you crave it most.

Your head falls back, a bitten lip barely stifling the choked giggle escaping you. It’s a mix of sweetness and sin. You let your hips roll faster, rougher, unable to resist chasing the friction. “Faster…” you murmur breathlessly, though Caleb misinterprets your plea as encouragement for him. His pace quickens, his push-ups becoming more forceful. You lower your head, biting back the noises that threaten to give you away, even as the intensity pushes you closer to unraveling.

Your hand grips his shirt tightly while the other drifts down, grazing over your thigh until it reaches the damp heat between your legs. Pressing against yourself through the fabric of your skort, you’re consumed by the warmth and the humid evidence of your desire. The rhythm of Caleb’s movements against you, paired with your own touch, ignites something feral.

A low, husky giggle escapes you, rich with temptation. Memories flood your mind—Caleb’s hands on you during late nights, his lips marking you during stolen moments in cars, the way he claims you without hesitation. Your free hand moves to your chest, massaging yourself before tracing up to grip your own neck. Your fingers mimic his touch, a tease of past pleasures that makes you ache for more.

“Don’t stop… faster,” you moan, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Caleb obeys, increasing his pace again, oblivious to your true meaning. The sudden, harsher movement catches you off guard, and with no solid grip to steady yourself, you slip. The high gravitational pull amplifies the fall, and you hit the floor with a harsh thud.

The impact jolts Caleb, and he immediately stops. He’s over you in an instant, concern etched into his features. “Hey!” he calls out, one hand cradling your cheek while the other quickly checks for injuries. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”

Your body still hums with need, and you laugh lightly, brushing off his worry. “Sorry, I was having fun up there,” you tease, your voice dripping with lingering lust. “Let me get back up.”

But Caleb presses you back down gently, his hand firm against your chest. “I’d rather you stay here for now,” he says, his tone protective but soft. “With the gravity in this room, that fall could’ve hurt you.”

Before you can argue, he adjusts himself into a plank over you, his body hovering close. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of something more in his gaze. “Let’s not have that happen again,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, grounding you in a moment both tender and electric.

The tension in the room is electric, and every movement of Caleb's body over yours fuels the fire simmering within you. His focus is unwavering, his gaze locked straight ahead as he holds his plank. His dog tag swings gently, brushing against your flushed face, a teasing sensation that makes your breath hitch. His lower abdomen hovers just above yours, so close you can almost feel his heat seeping into you. When he shifts to a forearm plank, his body dips closer, his sides grazing yours. Back and forth, regular planks to forearms, the friction, though subtle, is maddening.

Your breathing grows heavier, and your chest rises and falls as you fight to stay composed. Caleb remains oblivious, his sharp features and disciplined posture implying control. You lick your lips, closing your eyes to let your imagination take over.

You picture the Caleb you know in private—the one whose body feels like it was sculpted for your hands, for your lips, for your pleasure. Every detail of him flashes through your mind: the way his skin glistens when drenched in sweat from relentless nights together, how his veins pulse against your touch when he’s deep inside you. You imagine his hands gripping your thighs or binding your wrists, keeping you close as he claims every inch of you.

“Gah… fuck,” you groan softly, the memory and the sensations overwhelming you.

Caleb suddenly pulls back, his face mere inches from yours, his nose almost brushing against yours. “Hey, are you okay? Is the gravity too much?” His voice is rich with concern, his brows furrowed as he studies your face. “You’re flushed.”

You shake your head, desperate to regain control. “Can we do glute bridges?” you blurt out, the words rushed and panicked. You need distance—anything to keep yourself from unraveling completely beneath him.

Caleb blinks, slightly confused. “Glute bridges? That’s not part of—”

“Please!” you interrupt, your voice a little too eager.

He shrugs and rolls off you, lying flat beside you. The space between you offers little relief, but it’s enough for now. Both of you bend your knees, feet flat on the padded floor, arms at your sides with palms facing upward. Slowly, you both raise your hips in unison.

You look at Caleb, at how his hips rise and fall. He’s focused, and disciplined as always, and his movements are precise. But your mind wanders again, conjuring images of you straddling him. You can almost feel the way his hands would grip your hips or wander to your breasts. You picture the way your body would move in perfect sync with his, your back arching, hair falling into your face as he pulls it aside to kiss your neck.

Your fists clench at your sides, and the ache in your core is unbearable. Without thinking, your hand drifts down once more, grazing over your skort. You press against the fabric, the friction a fleeting relief that only deepens your longing. Your imagination spirals, and you imagine Caleb losing his composure, pinning you down, and taking you without hesitation.

Your movements become bolder, your fingers rubbing against the damp fabric as your breaths grow heavier. You bite your lip, muffling the soft moans that threaten to escape. Turning your head toward Caleb, you’re startled by what you see.

His hand is… inside his pants, his movements unmistakable. The rhythm matches your own. Your eyes trail up, locking onto his face. His intense gaze meets yours, and it’s clear—he’s been watching you the entire time.

The air is thick with tension, and neither of you utters a word, your heavy breathing and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re the first to act, letting instinct take over. One hand stays between your legs, teasing and fueling your desire, while the other reaches for Caleb’s hand, guiding it toward you. Without hesitation, you slip his hand inside your skort, pressing it against your soaked center.

A low moan escapes his lips, his eyes darkening as he feels your warmth. “All this… because of me?” he murmurs, voice tinged with awe and lust.

“Shh,” you whisper, your tone commanding yet laced with seduction. You guide his fingers, showing him exactly how to move, how to make you tremble.

The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, rhythmic squelch of Caleb’s fingers exploring you. His other hand remains frozen at his side as if he’s trying to process the shift in power.

Your gaze shifts momentarily, focusing on the far wall as you try to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensations. But when your eyes return to Caleb, his expression shifts—his usual air of dominance is replaced by something raw, something vulnerable. His fiery gaze tells you he’s ready to take charge, to flip this moment back in his favor.

But before he can move, you act. You grab his wrists and pin them down, catching him completely off guard.

His eyes widen, and he exhales sharply. “You’re not supposed to move that fast under this level of gravitational pull,” he says, his voice shaky but tinged with admiration.

You don’t respond. Your hair falls in wild waves over your shoulders as you loom over him, your breath uneven, your pupils dilated. Slowly, you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes with a look that’s both predatory and seductive.

In this moment, you’re no longer the one following his lead. You are ravenous, insatiable, and unyielding. Caleb’s strength, his power, his evol—it’s not enough to hold you back.

He seems to sense the shift completely now. His hands slide up to your waist, his touch firm but reverent. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low, his composure beginning to crack under the weight of your dominance.

Your lips curve into a wicked smile, and you lean closer, your voice a sultry command. “Listen. Obey. Do as I say.”

Without breaking eye contact, you lift your shirt, exposing your bare chest. Your hands trace over your breasts, teasing them, pinching just enough to make yourself gasp. Caleb watches, his mouth slightly parted, his breathing growing heavier.

His eyes flicker between your face and your body, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. The roles are reversed, and he knows it. His beloved—once pliant, obedient, and at his mercy—has become the one issuing commands, the one drawing him into the depths of temptation.

“Good boy,” you purr, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his as you hover above him. “Let’s see how well you can follow orders.”

You shift your position, grinding against the firm bulge beneath you, the friction sending waves of heat through your body. A soft laugh escapes your lips, followed by a gasp as you whisper breathily, “God, you’re so hard.” Your rhythm is unrestrained, each motion rough and desperate, an outward display of your insatiable craving.

Leaning forward, your breasts are now inches from Caleb’s face, fully in his view. His eyes, wide and pleading, glisten with unspoken need. He looks at you like he’s teetering on the edge of surrender, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Keep your hands on my waist,” you command, voice low but firm. “Only on my waist. Don’t move them.”

He nods wordlessly, his restraint palpable, his grip tightening against your waist. You feel his fingers press into the fabric of your skort, his nails threatening to pierce through as he struggles to maintain control. His breathing grows heavier, and soft, choked whimpers spill from his lips.

“Mm… ngh,” Caleb groans, his head tipping back slightly, his composure unraveling.

Your movements become more fervent, your body moving with a raw need to release the tension building within you. Each grind against his clothed erection sends jolts of electricity through your core, and soon you’re teetering on the brink.

Your head tilts back as you moan loudly, surrendering to the intense wave of pleasure washing over you. The explosion of sensation leaves you trembling, but you don’t stop. Instead, you grab Caleb’s dog tag, pulling it sharply as you shift your position. Caleb adjusts instinctively, sitting up slightly as you reposition yourself between his legs.

You recline against the floor, your body stretched out flatly, arms draped above your head in a teasing display of submission. Caleb’s hands remain glued to your waist, his knuckles white from the intensity of his grip. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed upper body, drinking in every inch of you. He’s utterly captivated, his gaze locking onto your every expression as you shamelessly use him to continue your pleasure.

Without warning, one of Caleb’s hands slips from your waist and moves to your chest. His large palm covers your breast, his fingers kneading with a mix of reverence and desperation.

You slap his hand away with a sharp motion, and your gaze snaps to his, fierce and commanding. The silent message in your eyes is clear: not yet.

Caleb freezes, his hand retreating immediately as his jaw tightens. There’s a flash of something feral in his eyes, but he obeys. He leans back slightly, swallowing hard, his chest heaving as he fights against his instincts to reclaim control.

The tension between you is electric. You smirk, satisfied by his submission, and grind against him once more, savoring the way his body reacts beneath yours. “Good boy,” you purr, your voice dripping with lustful authority, “Now climb over me…”

Your hand presses firmly against Caleb's chest, the warmth of his skin radiating into your palm. "You can only hump," you murmur, your voice thick with amusement, daring him to test the boundaries you've just set. "You can't fuck me."

The air between you is filled with a charged silence, his sharp intake of breath breaking it like a snap of static. His lips curl into a subtle, annoyed smirk as his eyes darken, frustration pooling in their depths. “I don’t demand this much,” he mutters, voice laced with a quiet defiance.

“What was that?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow as your nails lightly graze his skin.

“Nothing,” he bites back quickly, his tone clipped, betraying how close he is to unraveling.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Caleb adjusts your legs, draping them around his waist. His grip tightens on your thighs as if grounding himself, and when he starts to move, his hips roll with unrestrained desperation. The friction of fabric against the fabric, the heat of his body pressed into yours—it’s maddening. His face flushes, a shade deeper with each thrust, his control slipping further away.

You pull him closer, your arms snaking beneath his, fingertips digging into his back. “That's it,” you whisper against his ear, your breath warm and coaxing. "Lose yourself a little more."

His head dips and your noses brush before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is wild, uncoordinated, all hunger and no finesse—a kiss born of need rather than thought. Caleb kisses as if he’s been starved, as if the power you hold over him is suffocating, and the only way to breathe is to taste you.

His movements grow erratic, each thrust harder, needier. The friction has him teetering on the edge, and you feel the subtle quake in his body as he tries—and fails—to keep composure.

Abruptly, Caleb breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged as he stares down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire. Without a word, his hands grip your legs and pull them away from his waist, his touch possessive, his intent clear.

Before you can question him, his mouth is on you again, this time lower. Through the fabric still separating you, he buries his face into the apex of your thighs, inhaling deeply like he’s losing himself in you. His nose grazes against you, his tongue darting out to taste what he can, his growl of frustration rumbling against you as the barrier taunts him.

"Let’s make a deal," he says suddenly, voice thick with agitation. His lips hover, brushing against the sensitive spot he can’t quite reach. "I’ll take care of you with nothing but my tongue. You know how good I am at that, how much you love it when I devour you."

He sits back on his knees, his hands now in his pants, stroking himself as his gaze locks on yours, heated and desperate. "Let me make you feel like you’ve ascended the stars,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, both a plea and a promise.

As he continues to nuzzle his face against the delicate fabric of your skort, rubbing his nose in a deliberate, circular motion, you feel a jolt of pure electricity. His nose presses insistently against your clit, teasing the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine. He licks at the fabric, teasing, tormenting, honing in on the sweet spot that makes your knees weak.

You try to resist, to push him away, but your body betrays you. Your muscles tremble, your breath hitches, and a moan threatens to escape your lips. You're drowning in a sea of sensations, every nerve ending screaming for release. The fabric, once a comforting barrier, now feels like a cruel tease, a maddeningly thin veil between you and the full, unbridled pleasure you crave.

Just as you feel yourself slipping, losing all control, you find the strength to act. Your leg shoots out, your foot connecting with Caleb's forehead with a surprising force. He stumbles back, a look of bewildered frustration on his face, his eyes wide and unfocused.

"Nooo," you say, your voice husky with a mixture of amusement and warning. You get on all fours, the cool floor a welcome contrast to the burning heat within you. The air crackles with unspoken desire, the gravity of the moment thick and heavy. Caleb watches you intently, his eyes glued to your swaying hips as you move towards him, a predator stalking its prey.

You crawl slowly, deliberately, your movements a slow, sensual dance. Each inch you cover seems to heighten the anticipation, the tension building to an unbearable crescendo. Caleb watches, mesmerized, his hand tightening around his pants, a desperate attempt to contain the burgeoning erection straining against the fabric.

"How about I fully remove my top," your voice a seductive whisper, "and use my breasts to massage that erection you can't seem to control?" You pause, letting the suggestion hang heavy in the air. You watch as his Adam's apple bobs, his throat working as he swallows hard. You can almost hear the primal growl deep within him.

"Or perhaps," you continue, a playful glint in your eyes, "I could use my mouth. I rarely indulge you in such a manner, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity."

The words hang heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of things to come. Caleb groans, a low, guttural. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a raw, primal desire. "Fuck," he breathes, his grip on his pants tightening, his body trembling with the force of his arousal.

You chuckle, a low, throaty sound that echoes through the room. "And before you cave," you tease, your voice dripping with honey, your eyes locked with his. "I'll let you have your way—just for a few precious moments."

As you crawl toward Caleb, the atmosphere is charged with an undeniable tension that seems to thrum between the two of you. Every movement you make is deliberate, and calculated, and it sends a shiver of anticipation through the space. The game is on, and though Caleb might not admit it, he's surrendered to your lead.

You close the distance until he's backed against the bench. With a slow, predatory smile, you see him raise himself onto the seat, his knees parting slightly as if inviting you into his space. His eyes lock onto yours, unblinking, darkened with the weight of his desire. You revel in the moment, knowing you've got him right where you want him—completely at your mercy.

Reaching for the waistband of his shorts, you take your time, your fingers brushing against his skin just enough to send electricity through him. Slowly, you slide them down, exposing the bulge beneath his underwear. Your confidence unwavering as you lean in, letting your lips hover mere inches from the strained fabric.

You begin with the gentlest of touches, your lips pressing teasingly against his erection, the fabric adding a tantalizing layer of separation. Caleb's head tips back as he releases a low, guttural sound, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The power shift in this moment is undeniable—he's completely at your mercy, and you know it.

With a soft giggle, you trace your tongue along the length of him, the heat radiating through the fabric almost scalding against your lips. His dick twitches beneath the thin barrier, a silent testament to the effect you're having on him. Each soft kiss, each feather-light lick, drives him closer to the edge.

Finally, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pull them down, freeing him completely. His dick springs to attention, hard and ready, and you take a moment to admire him. Caleb, always so composed, looks utterly undone, his chest heaving as he meets your gaze with a mix of need and adoration.

He reaches out, his fingers tangling gently in your hair, guiding it away from your face. His voice is soft but commanding as he whispers, "Come up here for a second." Obediently, you rise to your knees, leaning in as he places two soft kisses on your lips. The gesture is tender, and intimate—a ritual between the two of you that speaks volumes.

When you pull away, Caleb’s grip on your hair remains firm but not forceful, a reminder of his presence and desire. You lower yourself again, your lips hovering just above his dick. Starting at the base, you let your tongue glide upward, slow and carefully. The light touch is barely there, more a tease of your breath and warmth than anything else, but it’s enough to make his body jerk in response.

A broken whimper escapes his lips, his voice barely audible as he murmurs, "God…" His restraint is fraying, unraveling with every flick of your tongue and every teasing kiss.

You smile, savoring the way his body reacts to your every move. You avoid the head of his dick, purposefully keeping your touches light and lingering along the underside, just enough to make him shudder beneath you. The control is intoxicating, and you relish every moment of his quiet surrender.

As your lips glide over the sensitive head of Caleb’s dick, you tease him with gentle suction, swirling your tongue in slow, deliberate circles. His sharp intake of breath is a symphony to your ears, and the low, strained sigh that follows makes your pulse quicken.

His grip on your hair tightens, the pressure both commanding and intimate, urging you to keep going. You slide your tongue down the underside, savoring the way his body reacts to every touch. Without hesitation, you take him deeper into your mouth, letting his length sink into the wet heat of your tongue and lips.

"Ahh, fuck," Caleb whimpers, his voice shaky and raw. His hand presses against the back of your head, not forcefully, but with enough insistence to hold you in place.

You fall into a rhythm, your mouth working diligently as you hollow your cheeks, creating a firm yet supple pressure. Caleb’s quiet groans and labored breaths spur you on, each sound proof of his unraveling. As your hands join in, massaging the base of his dick, you glance up to see his expression. His teeth are buried in his bottom lip, and his head is tilted back, eyes locked on the ceiling.

You attempt to lift your head, seeking a reprieve to catch your breath, but Caleb’s hand prevents you, his fingers weaving tighter into your hair as he mutters, "No… not… not right now…" His voice is low and breathy, carrying an edge of urgency.

Confused, you push past the feeling, letting curiosity gnaw at the edges of your mind. You continue your motions, his restrained responses both intriguing and frustrating. The tension builds as you take him deeper, your throat protesting as your gag reflex kicks in. The need for air becomes undeniable, but Caleb’s hand remains firm, holding you in place.

Desperate, you dig your nails into his thigh, the sharpness of your touch a silent plea for release.

“Hsss…” Caleb hisses, his gaze snapping down to meet yours with a flicker of discontent in his dark eyes.

Finally, he lets you pull away, your lips flushed and slick with saliva, his length glistening with the evidence of your efforts. You wipe at the corner of your mouth, searching his face for answers.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, your voice laced with both concern and confusion.

“Nothing,” Caleb replies, his tone flat, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. The disconnect is jarring, his usual intensity replaced by something distant, as though his mind is somewhere far away.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words. You tilt your head, studying him, unsure whether to press him further or let him process whatever storm is brewing within.

As you adopt a mock pout, your voice drips with feigned disappointment. "You don’t like what I’m doing? Then I’ll just fuck myself, then."

Caleb's sigh is low and exasperated, but there's an unmistakable heat beneath it. "No. Not you," he mutters, his tone carrying a weight of possessiveness.

Gripping his length firmly, you brush it against your lips, letting the silky heat of him glide against your skin. "So, what is it, then?" you ask, spitting lightly on him and watching as the moisture glides over his dick. Your eyes flicker with fascination at the sheer size of him, marveling at how your body manages to take him in.

Before you can tease further, Caleb’s hand tightens in your hair, urging your mouth back onto him. The motion is commanding, but his groan as you obey is laced with pleasure. "I forgot… mmnh… about the cameras in here," he says, his voice breaking into a husky laugh.

The thought lingers, an illicit undertone in his words. "To think… someone could be watching you while I’m here… tsk, tsk," he groans, his hips arching forward.

He pushes himself deeper, his dick hitting the back of your throat as you struggle to take him in. You gag, swallowing reflexively, your nails digging into his hips for leverage. Caleb’s breath hitches as you tighten your grip, the pressure sending shivers through him.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air, your lips flushed and wet. But before you can gather your thoughts, Caleb grabs you roughly by the neck, pulling you close. His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, his hands cupping your face tightly as though he never wants to let go.

"I can have my way now… right?" he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.

You nod, breathless and pliant, surrendering to the intensity of his gaze.

In one swift motion, Caleb pushes you to the floor. The impact is softened by your hands and knees catching you, but the air between you crackles with raw anticipation. You feel him drop to his knees behind you, his hands already tugging your skorts down with a fierce urgency.

"No one else is allowed to see you feel good," he growls, his voice low and feral, each word vibrating with possessive hunger.

You're taken aback by the stark shift in Caleb's demeanor, but deep down, it doesn't surprise you. If there's one thing about Caleb, it's that he’s possessive. No one is allowed to have you, see you, feel you, touch you, kiss you, or even dream of you—you are his.

Without warning, Caleb thrusts himself into you, and the sharp intensity of it pulls a moan from your lips. He grips your hips, pulling you even closer as if he can’t get deep enough. You instinctively arch your back, your body adjusting to him, but his commanding voice cuts through the haze.

“Keep your head on the ground,” he demands.

His movements are rough and erratic, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming—pain and pleasure mingling in a way that has you craving more. The ache from his earlier unintentional teasing only heightens the sensation of finally having him inside you. Caleb leans forward, his body pressing against yours. His lips brush over your shoulder, leaving heated kisses in their wake, and one of his hands finds yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I…” he grunts, his voice strained, “…wanted you to have your… ha… moment, fuck,” he growls, his words cutting off as his hips pick up speed.

The urgency in his movements isn’t just about his desire; it’s as though he’s determined to end the voyeur’s show as quickly as possible.

“Let… them,” you manage to moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. “Let them watch… ahhh.”

Caleb responds with a sharp thrust, his intensity knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Let them see… nnngh… that… you own me,” you groan, saliva slipping from your lips as your climax takes hold.

His laugh is deep and guttural, vibrating through you. “I like that,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

In a swift motion, Caleb flips you onto your back and pulls out. Without missing a beat, he begins stroking himself, his hand working quickly. You lift your legs and rest them on his shoulders, reaching for him, guiding him. Together, you watch as his release spills over your lower abdomen, painting your skin.

Caleb’s damp hair clings to his forehead, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You don’t wait long before throwing yourself into his arms, your lips crashing against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He cups your face, gently pulling your shirt down to cover you as if to shield what’s his.

But then, he pauses, his gaze shifting to the camera in the corner of the room. “Yeah… I’m gonna ask them for a copy. Have them delete theirs,” he says casually, though there’s a quiet threat laced in his tone.

You try to stand, but your legs wobble beneath you, threatening to give out. Caleb is quick to catch you, steadying you in his strong arms.

The room’s gravitational pull shifts back to normal, the weight of the moment settling over you both.

“So… watching me work out makes you hot?” he asks, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he pulls his pants back up.

“You were practically humping me,” you retort, rubbing your thighs, still trembling from the aftermath. “This is your fault. My legs are numb…”

He laughs, the sound rich and unbothered. “I didn’t even do much work. Probably my evol’s fault,” he teases, scooping you up bridal-style before setting you gently on the bench. “Stay there for me, will you? I think we’ve got about 20 minutes left in this room.”

You settle onto the bench, your legs parted slightly, the evidence of your shared passion glistening on your skin. You trace a finger lightly over your sensitive area, the sensation still making you shiver.

“Hey…” Caleb’s voice calls out, sharp but amused. “Don’t get any more ideas. Not until we’re home, alright?”

The mood between you is tense, your body humming with a desire that refuses to wane. You bite your lip, your mind already plotting for the next round. Next time, you think, you’ll finish on top, taking charge and making him beg. But for now, Caleb still owns that spot, his dominance leaving its mark on every inch of you.

Your hands trail downward, brushing against your chest and grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. The warmth of your touch stirs something deep inside, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes your lips. “Caleb…” you whisper, the sound low and needy, your hips swaying subtly against the bench.

Your body’s not finished. Not yet. It craves more, every fiber of your being yearning to feel him again. You try to suppress it, to mask the raw hunger threatening to consume you, but your efforts are futile. A sigh escapes, and with a playful smile that betrays the urgency in your voice, you murmur, “I think… we should go home now. Work out there.”

Caleb’s gaze snaps to you, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and intrigue. “More?” he breathes, his voice dipping into that rich, low tone that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

You lean forward slightly, your fingers brushing against your thighs as if coaxing him closer. “You can take control…” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. Your eyes lock with his, daring him to deny you. “I just want you.”

For a moment, Caleb simply stares at you, his chest rising and falling as if he’s trying to steady himself. But the flicker of desire in his eyes betrays him, and you can see the tension building in his body. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a warning. “If we start now, you might not make it home.”

You press your lips against his thumb in a silent challenge, your hips shifting again, your body pleading for his touch. “Then don’t stop,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough.

His composure cracks, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours. The bench beneath you creaks in protest, but neither of you cares. You’re lost in the moment, in the heat, in the unspoken promise of what’s to come.

“Home,” he finally mutters against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “Now.”

But even as he says it, his hands linger, his lips brushing against yours, teasing, tempting, and leaving no doubt that this is far from over.